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readychilledwine · 1 year ago

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Could i request something where az and reader are mates. They have a huge fight and “break up” and reader leaves the court. She finds out that she is pregnant and writes him a letter. He never shows up so she thinks he doesn’t want the baby. Rhys visit the court she is in and sees her with a child maybe a couple months old. He is mad because she didn’t told him and when he ask her why she keeps his nephew away she tells him that she wrote az but he never answered. Rhys is mad and ask az what is up with him to just leave his pregnant mate. Unbeknownst to him that az was searching for her the whole time. Az tells him that he never got a letter and they find out that maybe elain burned it. It takes some time for them but they find their way back and just fluff azriel dad who teaches his son how to fly.

( you could write more angst between reader and az because of elain or you could use a maid or something who wants az)

Here Without You

Summary - Being a single mother was more painful than you'd ever thought it would be, especially when your son's father was just a court away.

Warnings - Angst, Elain showing those claws, single mom status, a child, PPD and the thoughts that come with it, **edited to add** cheating

A/N - I had one of my friends who is a single mom help me with this one while also imagining my life without baby daddy, and um, yeah. We cried a lot, so hopefully, you all do too.

*message from Liz regarding the ending at the end*

💙Peep my Azriel Masterlist Here💙

You had decided whatever you had done to offend the Mother must have been truly unforgettable and unforgivable as you sank against the wall of your family chambers in the Day Court Palace.

Being a new mother was the hardest thing you had ever and will ever do. You had finally gotten Nox down after 3 hours of fussing and tears, and now you waited. He'd sleep 2 hours if you were lucky, wake up crying, and you'd start the process over.

You had wished for your mate more times than you could count, but that bridge was long gone and burned. He had ensured of that by not coming when you wrote him, by not even bothering to write you a response.

The last fight between you and Azriel had been ugly. Glasses had been thrown, a bottle of wine knocked over in rage, cruel words you would both have to live with ringing in your ears like a scream. 350 years. Gone. Thrown away like garbage. All for Elain.

Selfish, plotting, destructive Elain.

You stood, body swaying with sleep deprivation setting in before sitting at the table where your now cold food set. You were too tired to eat, choosing to instead drink the water you had been desperately craving 4 hour ago.

You had wished you could turn it to wine, drink it with no consequences, and still feed Nox when he woke, but that was not the reality of the world. So, instead, you allowed the room temperature flavorless beverage to slide down your throat before moving like a ghost to the couch. There was no point in getting comfortable in your own bed. You would have to be up soon anyway. It wasn’t as if you had help.

You were alone.

And that wasn't even the most painful part of it.

The most painful part was setting in doubt. The growing disbelief that you weren't capable of this, that Nox deserved more, that you should have dropped him at the cabin you had no doubt Elain had moved into, leaving him with her and Azriel to allow you to-

You cut your brain off, refusing to put those words into a full thought. Refusing to believe that your disappearance or death was better for your son than this.

This had to be enough, you had to be enough, because Gods if it wasn't and you weren't, then what truly was the point in living any longer.

Helion entered your chambers the next morning, eyes falling to where you were sat on the floor, shoulders shaking as sobs tore through you. He placed a large warm hand on your shoulder before taking Nox from your arms. "I know I can not offer much of a break due to his feeding cycle, but when is the last time you ate a hot meal, y/n?"

You shook your head. He was 2 weeks old. You supposed it had been before labor. Since then, it had been moments begging for just a second of deep sleep. Moments begging for the Mother to help you, to guide you. Moments where those prayers went unanswered as if they were just thrown into a void. "I don't remember."

Helion could have killed Azriel for you, for Lucien, for Nox. He almost had when you had winnowed yourself here, collapsing in his arms from the exhaustion magic and a growing babe had caused your body.

You hadn't known when you came to the Day Court, begging your oldest friend for a week of safety and healing that you were pregnant, but the High Lord had scented it the second you appeared.

It left him wondering how the hell Azriel hadn't.

"Let me hire a wet nurse for you," he offered again, knowing you would turn it down since your depressive state had you hyper fixated in this belief that all you were good for now was your breasts, and if you gave that duty away, what purpose did you have? "At least for the next few hours. To give you time to rest?"

You still shook your head, messy, tangled hair trying to sway. "I can't. I can't burden someone else."

Helion turned his head away from you, willing himself not to cry at the emptiness of your voice, at the lifelessness you had become.

"The Night Court and Spring are coming today," he started slowly. "I am the magic selected neutral ground for Tamlin and Rhysand to begin setting a peace treaty and trade routes." He waited for your reaction, almost breaking further as you gave him none. "Do you want to see any of them?"

"Lucien and Tamlin."

Helion felt his heart shatter for Cassian, the male who had been asking about you for months now. "The general-"

"Is Azriel's brother. And probably has taken his side. Attempts to see me are probably to give him some sick sort of satisfaction."

He dropped the subject immediately. Nox was asleep, content in the High Lord's arms. "I have time before they arrive, go nap." Helion ordered it, eyes blazing a soft gold and forcing you into submission.

Your bed had never felt so soft.

Helion was walking with Nox around the Palace, smiling and cooing the little male. He was always content when he was being held, and you were so deeply asleep you hadn't even noticed Helion holding the boy to your chest as he nursed. He walked towards where Lucien and Tamlin were.

His son, his pride and joy, looked just radiant in his Day Court attire. The soft, off-white pleaded fabric draping him showed the new healthy build he had gained since Azriel and Elain's transgressions, a golden snake wrapped his bicep, new golden earrings adorned those many piercings.

Lucien paused, a look of concern etching his face when he saw Nox before shaking his head rapidly.

But it was too late, Helion was already in the room where Rhysand also stood with the Inner Circle. The Lord of Night's face fell as he looked at the Illyrian boy, looking so happy up at Helion as he dozed off.

Cassian had frozen, mid sentence with Nesta. He had tried to take a step, wanting to see the babe he immediately knew was his nephew. His eyes met Helion's pleading with permission to approach. Elain's face had paled. A mix of guilt and fear running across it before she schooled it into a faked look of hurt and sadness.

But it was Azriel's face the broke the High Lord. It was a look he knew all too well.

The look of a father who missed the birth of his child.

The look of a father who didn't know he had a child.

The look of a father mourning lost time.

Lucien moved to Helion, taking Nox before leaving the room quickly. The boy did as he always did when his head found Lucien's warm bare shoulder. He released a heavy breath, snuggling into that familiar scent and warmth. "Your mother did not call for me last night," they all heard his soft voice trailing off, speaking to their nephew softly.

"You will tell me everything I do not know," Rhysand demanded as if he was in his own court. "When the fuck was he born. Why were we not informed of her pregnancy?"

Tamlin looked to Helion, digging the shit further. "Is she in the same room as last time?" The Lord of Day nodded. "I will go see her while you all deal with this."

Helion didn't answer, walking to the centered round table and taking the head seat. "To begin, Rhysand, this is my court. You will not make demands of me in my home." They all sat, aside from Azriel. His gaze was locked on the hallway Lucien and Tamlin had gone down.

If he ran, he could catch them. He could see you. He could-

The slam of hands on a table ripped him from his thoughts, and his head snapped to Helion. The High Lord was blazing, glowing like the sun itself, heat radiating from him. "Sit. Down."

An hour later and Rhysand had the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers. "You saw her send each letter?"

Helion rolled his eyes, nodding again. "Every month after every check up and once after the birth."

Rhys pointed to Azriel. "But you never got them?"

"My son wouldn't be in another court if I had," Azriel's voice mirrored yours. Broken, empty, mourning. Mourning what was, what he had missed and would never get back. "You're sure she sent them to me?"

Helion could have snapped his neck. "Who else would have fathered her babe? You are the one who stepped out of the bonds of marriage and mateship. Not her."

Azriel paused, a sudden look of anger gracing his face as he looked up at Elain, shadows curling his ears. Nuala appeared, setting envelopes down in front of Rhysand. "In her room. Under her bed in a locked chest. Along with every communication you had tried to send to y/n, my lord."

Feyre gasped, turning her back to Elain and leaning further into Rhysand, holding Nyx tightly between them. She remembered those first few weeks. The sleepless nights, the pain, the emotional down pour. She would not have survived without Rhysand. Without Nesta and Mor. Without Cassian and you and Azriel. Her sister, the one who had held her as darkness swallowed her mind after her son's birth, had allowed you to endure this alone.

Azriel's hands shook, reaching for that stack. He separated out the letters. 10 for him. 2 for Rhysand and Feyre. 2 for Mor. 2 for Amren. 4 for Cassian and Nesta.

Helion stood. "I will let you all process this. Call for me when you are ready to do negotiations. The sooner you all leave, the better for her."

Rhysand's eyes shot up. "You won't let us explain to her-"

"Does it change the fact that he took Elain to their marriage bed? Does it change that he signed the annulment papers." Silence filled the room. "I believe that's why she left. Correct?" Rhys grit his teeth nodding. "Then all this changes is me, someone she trusts and feels safe with right now, informing her of what happened and allowing her to decide if she wants to reach out again from that point." He made a pointed look at Elain. "Which would not matter since I cannot see you removing the parasite from your court."

Helion walked into your room to Lucien and Nox laying skin to skin, a blanket over them as Tamlin held you, long fingers running through your dark hair. "And?" His son said.

"Your mate hid the letters regarding her pregnancy." Lucien whistled. "She's a snake hiding behind beautiful scales."

Azriel had tracked down your room with his shadows easily. The inner circle had been excused for the negotiations and allowed to explore the city. Cassian had flown Elain home, Mor and Amren winnowing Nesta behind them. Cassian wanted Elain out of his house, and Azriel could not have been more grateful to his brother for having his back.

He entered the room slowly and quietly. You were placing the babe in a crib on the balcony. It was shaded from the sun, shielded to remain the perfect temperature, and yet gave him access to fresh air, to the breeze.

You turned, eyes wide the second you saw Azriel. He moved to you so quickly that you could hardly process it. One second, your feet were on the ground, and the next, arms held you tight against him. Azriel was breathing deeply, memorizing your scent all over again.

He set you down, keeping you close to his chest, and sent a prayer to the Mother. "Elain hid all the letters," he began slowly. "She kept them all in her room. I didn't know. Had I known about you, about him, I would have crawled the very depths of hell to bring you back home to me."

You didn't answer. Tears fell as your body relaxed into him. It wasn't fair. The hold he had on you. The need you still felt in your bones when he touched your skin. You ached for Azriel so deeply it echoed into your bones. You longed for his smell. His voice.

Azriel took your silence as permission to continue. "I made a mistake. I will never be able to make up for it. Elain knew the second you left, I wanted to correct this. I was so blinded by her, by the feeling of being needed like that again, that I forgot how precious your independence was. How beautiful it is."

He couldn't stop himself from kissing the top of your head. "You are all I think about. Morning, noon, and night, it is always and will always be you. I am so sorry for what I have done. I am sorry for hurting you, for ruining us, for hurting the family we should be raising together. There are no words for my remorse."

"Why?" Your voice broke as you asked. "Why wasn't I enough?"

Azriel pulled back to look at you, hand raising to hold your chin and force eye contact. "Y/n, you are not at fault for my actions. You did nothing wrong. There is no partial blame, no what ifs. I fucked up. I made a mistake and it cost both of us everything. You are the victim of my actions, not the catalyst."

He saw you process those words and saw as they sunk in. "You were and are more than I will ever deserve. I want to spend my lifetime making up for it. Becoming a male you are proud of. I want to be the father I never got to have. I want to be the husband and mate you deserve. I know it will take time, and I do not expect your forgiveness today, but if you give me a chance, I will go to my grave worshipping the ground you two walk."

"Do you want to meet our son?" He broke at the question, feeling the bond opening back on your end. "This doesn't mean we're back together. It means we need to coparent for him while we work on things." He nodded rapidly, following you to the bassinet.

It felt like the world was coming full circle. You knew it would take time, that you two had many things to discuss first. This was a needed good start, though. Your pain eased slightly as you pulled back the curtains to the crib and whispered, "Azriel, this is Nox, your son."

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

**I have received some pretty nasty anon asks, some unconstructive comments, and a good amount of general negativity regarding this fic. If you are unhappy with the ending and want to know why I made the choices I made as the author, click #discussingherewithoutyou. Unconstructive comments will be receiving the same copy and paste answer from here forward.

My time and content are free. If you do not like them, scroll.

General Taglist:

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium

Azriel Taglist:

@elle4404

#acotar #acotar x reader #send asks #send anons #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x yn #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #discussingherewithoutyou

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jenicaclarisse · 8 months ago

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YUNO GRINBERRYALL

Dating the notorious Yuno!

summary: dating the vice captain of the Golden Dawn is an experience you don’t want to let go.

genre: fluff (obvi) had to get him on here. How can he be so pretty? fanfic + headcanons cause I spoil all of you

A/N: I’m still an active member of the BC fandom and I’m thinking of making this a series. Please send requests of characters you want me to do!

;not proofread (💨)

———

Yuno isn’t the type to actively seek relationships, mostly just the type of person to reply and talk to somebody when first approached. And or somebody paired him up for a mission. So taking an interest in something other than being the best of the flock is new territory.

Getting to know him is getting to know him entirely. Despite his detached nature, Yuno is actually very open to getting to know you. Already seeing you as a romantic interest despite his goals, ambitions and dreams.

When actively entering the courting stage, Yuno is very competitive. Striving to let you know that you are one of his priorities and doesn’t see this “courting” as a one time thing. Don’t even bother speaking with other guys, Yuno will let you know he is interested.

His behavior changes, his demeanor is different too. It gets to the point his squad notices his absence after being done with a mission and is somehow nowhere to be found.

Klaus and Mimosa are naturally curious. What was he doing? What was he thinking of? Or who?

It’s perfect timing he was back in town.

“Do you think Yuno’s been disappearing lately?” Mimosa asks, walking with Klaus in the hall. She looks up at Klaus who was comically adjusting his glasses and posture.

“Yuno is responsible! We don’t need to worry! I think we should mind our own business!” Klaus shouts as he looks back at Mimosa who clearly knows better.

“You’re curious too.”

“..I’m not.”

Klaus continues to deny but is inevitably shut down. Mimosa has seen through anyway as he adjusts his glasses again with a resounding cough.

“Where do you think he went?” Klaus nervously asks, both he and Mimosa hiding behind a wall. Yuno looks to be waiting for somebody as he decides to indulge himself in some bread.

“Do you think we should even be spying? He’s a good man I assure you. Do you honestly think he’s being suspicious? Why do you-“

“Shhh shush!”

Mimosa puts a finger on her lip, effectively shutting Klaus up as he grumbles.

They continue to wait until they heard a voice. A magic knight from another squad! A girl…

“Yuno!” You happily greet him as you hugged him. Yuno is quick to reciprocate, patting your head as you let go of him. Yuno is seen with a soft smile as well.

“WHat!” Klaus’ voice breaks.

“Shhhh!”

Mimosa is quick to shut him up, but this time she puts a hand on his mouth to shut him up. Maybe she should’ve done the spying with a different partner.

“…They’re on a date.” Klaus surmises. After an hour pf following You and Yuno around town, he had made his conclusions. Klaus and Mimosa obnoxiously disguised themselves with accessories to prevent being recognized. Seeing the both of you holding hands and buying street food was convincing enough.

“Obviously!” Mimosa replies, holding a pair of binoculars as she continues to zoom on the both of you.

“Ahhm” You feed Yuno a piece of your crepe as he leaned down to eat his share. He goes back to his position as he hummed.

“Yummy.” Yuno wipes a piece of whipped cream from the corner of his lip.

Klaus is appalled!

Pointing and looking back to both of you, then mimosa, and again.

“Will you please calm down?” Mimosa exasperates.

“I just find it hard to believe!” Klaus is practically hyperventilating. “I didn’t take Yuno for the type!”

“He’s allowed to date.” She deadpans.

Eventually, the date comes to an end as Yuno walks you back to your headquarters. Dutifully letting you ride on his broom for more convenient travel. And an excuse to hold him (wink wink).

Both You and Yuno get off the broom as you dust yourself off. Yuno is quick to ruffle your hair again. Affectionately smiling at you as you hugged him goodbye.

“I really enjoyed my time.” Yuno tells you as you nodded.

“Thank you. It was really fun.” You smiled back at him and by the lords. You are beautiful.

Yuno gives you forehead kiss goodbye as you waved back at him and begin to enter the headquarters’ gates. Gazing at his back for a few more moments to savor more time to look at him.

You definitely have a story to tell much later.

Yuno stops in his tracks as he deadpans.

“I know you’ve been stalking me.” Yuno lets out a heavy sigh. Somebody flinches from behind a wall as a guilty Mimosa and Klaus makes their appearance. Klaus is adjusts his glasses again and clears his throat.

“We congratulate you!” He obnoxiously bows, as Mimosa scratches the back of her neck in an embarrassed manner.

“Impossible.” Yuno sighs and walked past the both of them.

“We did not think this was your after duties!” Klaus is quick to follow as well as Mimosa who right behind.

“How could you never tell us! We are your friends! Squadmates!” Klaus goes on a full rant. “We are supposed to tell each other everything! Aren’t we closer now?”

Before he gets to shout any further, Yuno was already on his broom and leaving.

“What idiots.”

———

HEADCANONS

When push comes to shove, you were eventually revealed as Yuno’s significant other. Causing an uproar with the people he was close with, particularly a certain sylph and an obnoxious person.

Needless to say Belle wasn’t the most happy. Grabbing and pulling Yuno’s face and hair in protest about getting a girlfriend. Her obvious glares towards and sometimes even stomping her feet.

“This is fairrr!!!” Belle screeches. “I was supposed to be your only love! Not that witch!” She grabs a fistful of Yuno’s cheek as she complained and complained. Glaring at you once again.

“Who even are you?!” She accuses you with a finger as you chuckled. “This isn’t a laughing matter!”

Yuno pushes away with his hand eventually, causing her to quiet down as she settles on his shoulder. She still doesn’t like you, but is afraid of Yuno’s disapproval. So she keeps put. But the jealousy is bleeding.

Meanwhile, Asta is swearing up and down like crazed man as he confront Yuno as they come across each other again.

“You jerk! You weren’t supposed to beat me in that department!” Asta holds his head as he rolled around on the ground. Passerby’s whisper as he whined. A child throwing a tantrum? Yeah. Looks like it.

Yuno merely smirks triumphantly.

“You pretty jerk!” Asta exaggerates. Continuing to get up on Yuno’s face as Yuno smirks, lifting his head up when Asta moves closer. But his screams eventually reside.

“But I’ll be wizard king! I’ll definitely surpass you!” Asta declares.

“No way.” Yuno counters.

“I’ll definitely will!” Asta is dragged off by Noelle. “Do you hear me? I definitely will!!”

Noelle slaps him across the head.

Yuno is genuinely so sweet to you as well. You cannot even deny the fact that he puts in effort to understand you more than he does with others. He makes you feel seen and heard.

And if you are the tempestuous type, he’s definitely the cool that’s gonna make you see reason.

He mostly calms you down with a gust of wind to your face and or he playfully teases you by messing your hair up.

You guys indulge in little challenges! Who gets to the end of the bridge first, who can finish a mission the fastest, or who can unlock a new spell in your grimoire. Let’s be honest, you loss on most of these things.

But Yuno lets you win from time to time, purposely running slower or maybe even challenging you to more activities. But don’t be fooled, it’s just a five second head start before he overpowers you. (Haha)

What he loves about you is that he feels comfortable around you (which is canon btw. His type is somebody who makes him feel comfortable. Which I believe you influenced that)

The fact that he can also participate in a conversation with you and or listen actively to you is his favorite past time.

He loves picnic dates because he gets to view the sky (and you)

He thinks you are the most beautiful woman in clover.

Belle still does not like you (lol) but Yuno is starting to slowly change her mind. But as of now she merely tolerates you.

Yuno absolutely loves food dates. Believe it or not he actually likes to get some scrub himself. As per charmie’s constant food she often gives. But mostly to restore his mana.

He loves trying new things with you. The relationship is rarely boring.

Whenever he’s busy he communicates with you with the communication wand. Often in private as he wonders off from the rest of his team. He definitely uses that communication device to his advantage to keep himself updated with you.

He thinks his fangirls are a pain.

Charmie wasn’t too happy with the news. She fainted with heartbreak but eventually accepted the power of the fates.

In conclusion Yuno’s a great boyfriend

———

reblogs, comments and likes are very much appreciated!

#black clover #black clover x reader fluff #black clover fluff #yuno x reader #yuno grinberryall x reader #yuno grinberryall x reader fluff #yuno fluff #yuno black clover #black clover fandom #yuno x reader fluff #black clover x reader #dating headcanons #yuno grinberryall #yuno from black clover #yuno grinberryall from black clover

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 1 year ago

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Halloween prompts year 2 day 29

Dont get him wrong, Danny had some big feelings about finding out his mom had cheated on his dad. He had even bigger feeling about the divorce and the whole shipping him off to live with his bio dad.

He wasn't going to lie. The new school was actually really nice and he had made friends quickly, though at first it was tough to weed out the ones who just wanted to get close to the Wayne family name and not him as a person. He didn't get to chat with Tucker and Sam a whole lot due to thier schedules but he and Jazz always made time for eachother.

His life had surprisingly taken a massive upturn. Vlad had been arrested soon after Danny warned the Waynes about him, making Danny believe either his dad it felt wierd calling him that but da-Jack made it perfectly clear he should never call him that was Batmans sugar daddy or somthing or maybe the Waynes got kidnapped so much that the bats bugged the whole place. Danny hoped not, he had done a whole karaoke thing with Jazz during thier video call the other night and he really didn't want anyone to hear thier shared cat screeching.

Jazz was super happy to learn Danny had joined the Volleyball team and Astronomy club. He used to play Volleyball in middle school and played defense a lot. He was even the best on the team but he stopped playing after one too many times of his parents forgetting to show up or causing a ruckus whenever they thought a ghost was nearby.

But it was better now

The portals were shut down by the bats. The GIW where expertly obliterated from existence. His parents are getting court mandated mental help. There are no more ghosts. No more ghost hunters.

And no need for Phantom

Danny doesn't think he's ever felt this free. He could go out to eat with friends with his way too big allowance that his...dad gives him and he didn't have to worry about having to ditch them to go fight a bad guy. He could eat dinner with a family who was a little awkward but surprisingly open to him and the food was delicious and didn't attack him. He could actually sleep at night and feel safe doing it. His siblings liked spending time with him and getting to learn anout him and thier "bonus sister" Jazz.

He had no reason to use his powers.

Until the grandfather clock he was walking past swung open like a door and he locked eyes with Nightwing coming out of it. They just stared at eachother before Danny just said, "I don't want to know which one your dating. Just know I have a bat and im willing to use it in the most ungodly of ways." And walked back to his room.

He wouldn't be a superhero, but he was willing to be a supervillian to protect his new family. Or in this case make sure Nightwing, a rumored playboy, knew better than to go breaking hearts in this household.

#halloween prompts #dpxdc #danny phantom #danny fenton #fanfiction prompts #prompts #nightwing #poor nightwing #imagine if danny thinks he found out who nightwing was supposedly dating and they were mad about something #probably something bruce did ngl #and danny tells Tim while theyre in the kitchen: brb i think Nightwing is cheating on Jason. Gotta go beat him up #and leaves Tim coughing after a bad spit take #im dying #so is tim #tim gets no explanation and is forced to stalk his new brother for answers. he instead finds out his new little brother has superpowers #even funnier if danny thinks Nightwing is dating Dick and fully expects Damian to be on his side for this.#danny might go full phantom supervillian to protect the waynes from the bats and the bats would have to reveal thier identities to him #danny: does...does this mean im grounded?

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sukunasun · 9 months ago

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may i pls get some alpha sukuna… he’s so nasty (affectionate)

sukuna's every bit the perfect alpha on paper. ask the potential omegas lining up to fix a nest in his home and watch them salivate for a knot so large and a bond so deep. an alpha they'll present and prostrate for. there are rumours about the sheer weight and size of his cock, the heady pheromones, not to mention his week-long ruts. call it an impossible excursion—a breeding fuckfest with only one thing in mind. to be used and bred full of his pups. a litter or two or more. fucking without care—brutal, relentless, and insatiable.

but forget that his reputation precedes him. sukuna's true value as an alpha stands solely on his capability to hunt and chase, to capture a coveted mate he keeps...or lack thereof.

contrary to the rules of ritual, courting is by far the least of sukuna's priorities. turning his nose up at romance and the like when he's had potential mates eating out the palm of his hand since the beginning. there's no need to make a song and dance about it when he'd have his pick and fill of omegas without needing to try. much less convince them of his oh so superior traits.

he's attractive, you'll give him that. most alphas are. but there's something extra special about a tall man with tattoos and a mean side. such callousness. oozing masculinity and hot-blooded need. like an impending storm. too intense, too forthcoming, and way more than you're prepared for. after all, an unmated alpha is an available alpha and you're not one to compete.

'she's so inadequate for a mate. he'll reject her soon.' they say. any time now and some other needy thing might just swoop in to take her place. someone who's deserving of it.

what a waste, you've gotten the attention of the most powerful alpha you've ever met and want nothing to do with it—a self-righteous omega who believes alphas should know better. why give in to such baser instincts, how primitive, how primal. moreso in this day and age when suppressants are readily available and cycles can be tracked to a T.

which is why you don't look back when his gaze lingers a bit too long. adding distance when he not-so-subtly attempts to leave his scent on you. going as far as to turn him down the first time he cages you in and offers—upfront and blatantly—to 'help you out' with your next heat. as if you were some charity case. "promise i won't bite," he teases you about your barren neck and inexperience, unable to hide the smirk on his face.

"i'm not interested," you scoff, leaving him there with a hard-on in his pants and no relief. he might be a prized alpha but you won't entertain the idea of proving yourself. stroking his ego and preening for him. you were just as valuable of a partner despite being beyond your prime years with zero experience and still unmated.

••••••••••••••••••••

the only problem is that he won't take no for an answer.

he's made his choice among the other blurred faces and dull scents. been waiting a long time for someone as irresistible as you. "do you fear me?" he asks the moment you bend over his kitchen counter. he allows himself a peek at a round ass and soft hips, also to sniff at your scent permeating the air. omega. he knows as much. you make it pretty obvious with your distaste for alphas. but the sweet-scented slick between your legs is as telling.

geez. he thinks. those suppressants of yours are next to useless if you're already dripping this much within proximity to an alpha. not just any alpha either, sukuna's well aware you're beginning to fall for him. you want him so bad and it's so unfair. he's barely even touched you. but only because he's wondering if your underwear would survive the rest of the day. 'what if she's wearing a thong and her thighs get drenched too.' he grins like a wolf at the thought.

you admit with a heavy heart, "i'm more afraid of what i'm like with you." because how does one resist his advances. sukuna pushes the envelope just enough to make your knees buckle. his domineering aura makes everyone else cower in fear under a cold gaze but watch how it turns into a dreamy one when you push his face away after a kiss gets heated. his incisors poke you slightly like a teasing taunt and you find yourself fighting the pleasure.

"it's natural," he'll justify. how your body longs so desperately to belong to this alpha. succumbing to his...ferventness. his large, heated hands roaming over your breasts hidden underneath his shirt. the collar's too wide but it gives him room to wrap his fist delicately around your neck. you bite back an excited squeal when it feels so right.

••••••••••••••••••••

there's something off about him when sukuna returns home late that night. an unfamiliar scent lingers on his clothing and your stomach twist with a possessive feeling. the same one that eats you alive to the point of guilt. you smell it the moment he walks through the door of your bedroom.

nothing like yours, it's not sharp enough to be daunting nor is it reminiscent of an alpha's scent. but it's potent. almost as if they were doing it on purpose. releasing their pheromones so he'd pick up on it, or worse, that you'd notice.

you try not to jump to any conclusions and you don't want to be jealous, but it's hard having your boyfriend come home with the smell of another omega on him.

you straddle him against the headboard with a hardened look on your face. involuntarily snarling as you peel his suit jacket off. shirt buttons coming apart under your rushed hands.

he grins at your ferocious display. reminds him of an angry kitten. he grinds his hips upwards, keeping you in place with steady hands. bouncing you on top of his clothed cock wasn't in the plans tonight, he thought he'd shower off the stench. it's not like it was strong enough to affect him.

but he tries to get you off instead, while he tries to get himself some self-control. "feel good?" he dares to question when you're practically losing your mind, a sudden spike of lust spurs in your belly, incited with just that little bit of friction. hoping feverishly that the scent of fresh arousal will be overridden by heat and breathy gasps through gritted teeth.

you're hardly in a headspace to reply but an eager nod shall suffice. "didn't think you'd be the jealous type," you feel him nipping at your ear, trailing sloppy kisses down your neck, the slight graze of teeth against freshly washed and oiled skin,

"i'm not jealous—" you lie. holding back a moan when he rocks a little faster, writhing atop him in pleasure. your nipples have risen taut against your nightgown and it makes an incredibly lewd sight. sitting in his lap so compliantly.

“i'd want them to watch us,” he whispers and you'd never do such a thing but the idea turns you on. he tells you that back in ancient times they used to partake in mating rituals and bonding ceremonies. privacy was more a privilege then and so was having an audience. that other omegas and betas would know of their place. how insignificant they are, if only they could watch you now, pussy fluttering and juices leaking all over their prized alpha.

••••••••••••••••••••

sukuna watches your face as you come undone for the fourth time. shushes your sobbing cries with a gentle hand caressing your back. "you don't have to worry," he's too busy holding himself back to find another.

says he wants to do things on your own terms and timing. swears that he won't easily fall prey to the lingering sweet-scented air around you, perfumed syrup and sugar. gently skimming his lips and tongue over a soft nape, a supple shoulder. he'll settle for merely licking the flesh he wishes to sink his teeth into. a caress, a chaste kiss, but never bruising or breaking.

he swallows the protest to earn your approving smile in return. it's enough of a struggle seeing you prancing around unaffected while he's been dying to fuck you senseless. to do what's natural to him. "it's wrong for an unmated couple to live together," seems to be everyone else's motto and he'd like to laugh but there's a shred of truth to it. he realises that it's impossible when he wants to fuck all. the. time.

gritting his teeth and forcing a smile when he's hit with a waft of your scent, he knows you're turned on. you want it just as much—every heat spent away from him in separate rooms. he smells your slick calling out to him. hears your moans poorly muffled and overshadowed by the sounds of you fucking yourself. your pussy bare and gleaming, he'll get on his knees for a taste. prying your twitching thighs apart, forcing them open if he has to, his lips nibbling and sucking your clit til you're crying from the pleasure, thrumming his tongue so fast it drives you crazy. all for the tang of your squirt staining his tastebuds and mussed-up sheets below.

but he shouldn't live life by the balls. no matter how full and heavy they get with the need for release. preferably inside you, so deep and plenty he finds himself picturing it at random times of the day. zoning out in his office, in the middle of traffic. how full you'd look with your belly bulging out. would it drip between your pussy lips or should he plug you with his cock instead, refusing a single drop to leak.

still, he wills himself to stay within your bounds. being lustful and possessive isn't anything to be ashamed of. it's part of his makeup but he's more than that. two people are perfectly capable of looking beyond their sex and desires—or so you tell him.

••••••••••••••••••••

his rut arrives when his symptoms not-so casually appear in the middle of the week. pheromones and a temper not even you can subdue. he's biting into his knuckles from the arousal spurred on by great timing and comically predictable circumstances—just the smell and sight of you there, happily unaware and otherwise tempting.

maybe your expectations have been exceedingly high. you can't change his nature. but how dare he forbid you from entering the home you shared, spare keys hidden and passcodes altered. "leave—" he warns, then breathes a frustrated sigh, "—it's not safe."

not that he feels particularly sorry about his tone, but what separates him from you is but a door and a razor-thin resolve. he's at his limit. he won't survive this on suppressants alone. not with you looking the way you do. "how can i help?" you ask worriedly, wrecking your head over him. wanting to comfort and coddle. for someone who turns their nose up at omegan stereotypes, you're playing the part so perfectly it drives him mad.

because it's the worst experience for an alpha to go through a rut alone. you'd understand the pain of having to suppress a heat. all the years dealing with the fevers and cramps. milk leaking from your sore nipples wishing he'd be there to relieve the pressure. a nest of him and only him. grinding and burrowing within amber, musk, and spice. intoxicating, intense, chasing after the smell found in his sweat-drenched tee, a wrinkled white shirt bearing smoke and aftershave on its collar. snuggling his pillow and getting off with your fingers or a whirring toy at its highest speed, but it's not enough, never enough. pussy contracting on absolutely nothing.

his den is dark and moody when you step inside. slipping into a frenzied haze, there he lazes with legs spread on your shared bed big enough for four, it stretches wider than you remembered, or maybe it's that you've yet to see it in this light, waiting to be broken in and littered with your belongings. he's grabbed at them in a rush. whatever your scent clung to. your duvet, your stuffed toy, and pretty, day-old crimson panties gripped in the same fist he pumps his cock with.

the threads fray, soaked fabric snapping and stretching with every drag down his shaft. rip. rip. rippp. a hole tears through when he tugs too hard and that heavy thing slaps over his stomach with a resounding smack.

you see it for the first time and wonder why not sooner. the perfect dick hiding in plain sight. actually, that's not true. you just haven't seen it this up close and personal. but given the sneak peeks—when the steam clears in the shower and it hangs soft and hefty, the way it juts out of tight gym shorts, or just...the swell of it rubbing in between your ass cheeks when he gets needy—none of them could've prepared you for this.

sukuna thinks it’s so ugly and brutish. he's found many an opportunity to tell you so, even now as his head cranes backwards with a frustrated groan, a growl that rumbles from somewhere deep within. ”it's enough to scare off any omega—” he says, a knowing smirk on his face when he can practically smell the slick dribbling down your thighs, saturating your panties, "—but not you."

a thick vein throbs on the underside, tip bulging and a little darker than the shaft, girthy and gushing with precum. his balls are heavy, taut with tension under the soft skin, and you shudder at the thought of what his knot would look like...who would've thought that such a monstrous-looking thing would have this much of an effect on you. weak in the knees and stomach fluttering in anticipation. the way it seems oh so daunting, how are you meant to take all of that inside you. if he laid the entire thing right against your stomach, how far would it go? it'd be enough to knock the wind out of you.

you try to calm your nerves. it's just a rut. it'll be over in no time. quick and simple. although you've read plenty of stories and watched the videos to know this wouldn't be a passionate embrace. no tenderness or care for your pleasure let alone your comfort. you wish to believe that he'll be careful if not a bit rough. and maybe a part of you wants to please him. despite all your certainties, would it be so bad to make him feel good and satisfy his needs? would it be wrong to wish for his scent mark, and his bonding bite. to be claimed and chosen.

it's an expression you've never seen before. as if he wants to devour you. he won't explain himself as he makes you watch. turning you into a voyeur as the urge takes over him. hooded eyes locked on yours, his blown-out pupils and slobbering drool are enough evidence for you—he intends to mate.

whimpering his name does nothing to quell his madness or ministrations. he's so far gone you don't think he comprehends the things he says, "can't wait to knot you...breed you...been wanting to taste you for so long..." he purrs, low and rumbling from his chest. sharp teeth grazing against your earlobe teasingly but never biting down on the cartilage, just a light nibble that turns you into a shivering mess. he's caught you within his jaws and your instincts argue against your better judgement, you're beyond fighting and struggling now while your weak hands push against his hulking mass to no avail.

yet, it's thrilling. amazing even. an alpha pinned atop you and nowhere to run. his nose nuzzling the crook of your neck, the back of your ear, both your arms lifted in his singlehanded grasp. he dives for every inch of skin, every spot that bears your aroma the strongest, going as far into the divot of your armpit while he's laving at the salt and sweat greedily. his saliva scenting sugar-sweet skin, marking you as his chosen victim. "you're so dirty—" is more of a plea for him to snap out of it. already embarrassed, exposed, and so eager.

he takes a pebbled nipple between his teeth and swirls his tongue around the tip of it. you're too distracted to realise he hadn't responded to your quip, because your scent told him all he needed to know, so did the soft whimper when he abandons one nipple, and the moan when he takes the other in his mouth.

there's a way to do things and sukuna's way is unmerciful. a man has never been this good at finding a clit, which is probably why his tongue won't leave it alone. he keeps his tongue broad until it comes out of hiding before he's got his lips wrapped around. he sucks on it languidly. pulls away just to spit and slaver, blow a raspberry for fun. marvelling at the drool and the mess you've made.

no time to waste when most of it was spent not eating your pussy. sukuna hums and hungrily feasts, tongue flicking frantically. your screams come out involuntarily, unable to hold back your moans coming out in short staccato bursts. a little panicked, but nonetheless agreeable. "something's happening! wait—" you hiss when it starts to burn a little. your hips lifting off the bed while his fingers keep prodding that special spot inside.

it only makes it all the more pleasurable when the pressure builds, when the squeeze feels so tight. you clench and feel every pass of his digits, every purposeful lick. "—kuna, i think i'm gonna—" his fingers quicken while his other forearm presses down on your pelvis to keep you in place and it's more than enough to make you come hard. gushing again and again, streaking the sheets and his smug expression.

"i've always wanted to do that," he admits cheekily. a face you can't stop admiring now that it's covered in your juices. your legs tremble and you can't catch your breath whilst he's leaving gentle kisses on your oversensitive lips, but he's far from finished with you.

with his cock leaking in his hold, he taps it on your sticky heat for good measure before gliding it back and forth, the opening of his cock prodding, getting caught on your clit as he slips in slow. with how thick he is, you feel every ridge and vein. gasping at the first push and fisting the sheets to try and accommodate.

unsurprisingly, it hurts just a pinch. "please,” you mewl, just that single word slipping past ragged breaths as you struggle. throat dry and crackly from the heaving and the foggy, post-orgasm haze. you don't know if you want him to stop or to go on but—"what if it can't fit?" you're genuinely concerned because it might not physically fit. already full to the brim, your pussy stretches so snugly around his shaft like a glove.

"there's a lot more to go," he hints at the rest of his cock he's yet to sheath inside you. "but we'll make it fit," a large palm rests over your womb as he swipes his thumb against your clit, hoping it'll ease the discomfort.

you nod weakly, whimpering "i trust you," but he's so big. you can feel your pussy trying to suck him in, a bead of sweat travels down your chest. mouth falling open as he slips in a little at a time, girth forcing your entrance to open wider. buries his cock in the one pussy he’s fantasized about the most and ruts like he's always wanted to.

••••••••••••••••••••

on the third day, you start getting restless. feeling sore and exhausted while running on no sleep and little bites of food. the room is in dire need of fresh air and the bed frame is on its last legs, but sukuna's urges grow stronger by the day. he barely manages to pull out to hydrate before he goes back to fucking you. always so slow and gentle, however, your moans and whines spill out, slowly but surely you succumb to every orgasm that rocks through you. wave after rippling wave.

still hard and throbbing the entire time. it's probably because every time your neck cranes upwards as an offering, baring your mating gland, he avoids it. fighting it. "why won't you knot me?" comes out sounding pouty and petulant but you don't care. your delectable scent slowly fades into a bitter note, anxiety and insecurity filling your voice. sukuna hasn't even tried to push it past your folds. steadily milking his knot outside of where it should be with his own hands is enough of a blatant rejection.

he reminds himself that he'd sworn to never let it go that far, knotting you would change everything, what if you couldn't see him the same way, that he was just another alpha who took you for himself. "i can't," guilt laces his voice and so does his frustration when his conscience appears from behind the pussy-drunk fog. his heart bleeding, his instincts yearning. 'i don't want to hurt you' is what he means. but what you hear in your dejected state is 'you won't be able to handle it.'

was it your inexperience that made him uninterested? you knew alphas liked them subservient, obedient. just like an omega should be. taking his knot without qualms. consummating in perfect rhythm. a tinge of pain shoots through your chest at the thought—sukuna could have any omega he wants, you've kept him waiting too long, you've made him doubt. you're not able to keep up, to please him, to be enough...despite giving in. despite trying your best to take him. he won't claim you,' says the voice in your head.

a whimper breaks from you at his words. you shouldn't have to ask, this was meant to be innate, instinctual, not something he has to restrain himself from. "aren't i your mate? don't i belong to you?" you sob, hot tears flowing down your cheeks.

he presses his forehead to yours, "you're gonna bleed, i might break you," he tries to explain, getting uncharacteristically soft in the moment. it's your fault for stumbling across a wounded beast. finding your way into his broken heart. binding the pieces back together while you soothe the aches and kiss his scars. 'yes you belong to me.' his beautiful omega who begs so nicely to be mated, if this is what you're like three days in, he longs to see what you're like in heat.

you shake your head, getting stubborn. you won't accept it and you're on the verge of clawing at him to get away. you've been ready at his mercy and what for. just to come out the other end dissatisfied and unfulfilled. fuck. you just want it to be done with. defile me, ravage me, you want him completely.

in an attempt to fight him, you let out a harmless threat, one you regret the moment it's uttered because you've gone too far—"if you won't do it, i'll find another alpha who will!"

suddenly, sukuna's thoughts are invaded by that sick thought. scenes of you naked and oozing slick. pinned beneath another alpha, his weight pressing into you along with his knot, glaring at him as he makes his claim the way he couldn't and it makes him snap.

the growling sound that leaves his mouth is a warning, and so is the hand that slips around your throat. large fingers coming together around your neck. the squeeze cutting your gasp short. it should frighten you, he could snap your neck as easily as it is to split a matchstick in half and right now, he seems just about ready to.

"careful now, omega," he spits out, teeth bared and demanding submission. forbidding and looming above you, his fist tightens ever so slightly. "you've forgotten your place," it seems you've misjudged your role and the precarious position you're in. fucked out in his den, in his bed. intentionally riling him up won't do you any good. no one touches you, scents you, or claims you but him no matter how your feet kick him uselessly, he doesn't move an inch.

"i'm sorry—" you pant, "i'll be good, i promise." you squirm and wriggle underneath, uncertain if you should run or relish in it. so ominous it turns you on even more. he's never put you in your place like this and you think you should make him jealous more often if it means he'd choke you out and go feral on your pussy.

"is that so?" he tries again. presses his cock in slowly inch by inch. feeling your pussy open up and yield to his girth. sukuna leans in close so he gets to watch your eyes roll back. bullies his way through with one deep thrust and finds himself balls-deep. "you want it so bad? want me to ruin this perfect pussy all because you wanna cum all over my knot, i won't stop til you're screaming and milking me dry—"

muscle memory forces your back to arch towards him. his broad chest against your nipples, delicious hot skin rubbing your hardened nubs the right way. he stills for a moment before he withdraws slowly, a mix of pleasure and anticipation coiling in your belly.

watching him, watching you. he looks down and groans at the obscene sight of cream and slick coating his shaft, viscous and too much to bear. the bulge in your tummy protrudes where his cock takes up all that space, rearranging your guts had never looked this lewd.

when his knot finally kisses your entrance, you feel it hot and prodding against you. desperate for him shove it in. to feel it pop through and nestle so deep, all the way to the hilt while he stays there and unloads himself inside you. balls twitching, sitting in a warm crook he’s found. your omega instincts sing at the thought of him filling you up. "knot me, breed me, my alpha—" you cry. begging for it, hot and immensely copious. a sticky mess all over, both the mattress completely drenched in fluids and your insides coated in his seed.

he feels the give of your womb, the tightness around the head of his cock. groaning at the sensation. just a little bit more and he'd be buried, finally. he fucks you violently, no holds barred. hands gripping your hips so achingly tight he might shatter your pelvis into pieces. you'll count the bruises later on but shall forgive him for the fact that he's cumming his brains out.

you're crying and babbling mindlessly, yes yes just like that. your limbs begin to shake as your peak edges closer, hand gripping his bicep while bracing yourself. wild and frantic hips jerking and shallow thrusts bumping and nudging against your cervix. striking deep and rocking you against the sheets.

your shivering doesn't go unnoticed and there he leans in to give your oiled and mouth-watering neck a final lick, shushing you with a gentle, calming kiss to your mating gland in preparation for his teeth.

and when he finally pushes his knot in, cock piercing your womb as your pussy clamps down viciously on its slim spot at the base, his teeth spears into your flesh with ease. there's the give of taut skin and tight muscle but soon he settles deep enough for blood to trickle and you come several times, pulsing and fluttering along multiple orgasms rolling in after the next, enough that you're shaking in his hold.

you cry and cry, overstimulated, sensitive, and so in love. not only with how full you feel but you surprise him with your own teeth sinking down into his trapezius, not too deep into muscle but just enough to leave tiny dents in his skin. your chattering jaw and slippery lips can't find purchase while you're preoccupied with whining his name. so you try again, this time closer to his neck.

sukuna catches on to your efforts and finds it all the more endearing. helping you find the perfect spot, he manoeuvres his neck closer while you give him light nibbles and sharp pinprick nips here and there but they're all too soft to pierce the skin. "do it," he pants, "mark me anywhere, i'm yours."

it must be his words that urge you but you think it's more to do with the greed roiling inside you. you want to leave a mark that he'd never be able to cover up. by the time he's grinding his knot into you again, pulling at your hips and guiding you on it like a toy, milking him of whatever's left, your lips part around the front of his neck without any more hesitation. inhaling his scent deeply, the vibrations of his groans rattling against your teeth, before biting down on his throat. teeth embedded deep and tongue lapping at his bobbing adam's apple.

he leans in to kiss you filthy and open-mouthed, tongues swapping spit and bloody iron while your thumbs caress his jaw and neck, adding a little pressure to the spot where his freshly bitten mating gland throbs quickly. a hummingbird wingbeat beneath your fingertips.

#just some thoughts...#alpha sukuna #sunpiece #ask #anon #saturated #whoever requested this im sorry it took so long ;__; i hope hes nasty enough #sukuna hcs #sukuna fic #sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #jjk hcs #jjk fic

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enviedear · 9 months ago

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oh em geeeee… honestly part of me wishes to train with him a bit. or like just watch him train,,, idk why… jace is eating at my brain for no reason. srry this isn’t a lot 😭😭😭 let me think — 🦢 (if nobody has used this one already)

i also want to train with our communal baby daddy, here's some fluffy training with jace. i hope you love it swan nonnie! enjoy the hints of societal misogyny i added in <3

request ⊹ send me your thoughts

night grips the entirety of the red keep, castle almost eerily quiet. you glance around your chambers, heart pounding. the court expects you to be confined to traditional duties—embroidery, etiquette, and endless tea lunches. despite your betrothal to the future king, education for your regency remains lackluster.

but tonight, you have other plans.

carefully, you slip out of your chambers, the soft rustle of your plainclothes barely audible. you navigate the winding corridors with practiced ease, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows on the stone walls.

each step bringing you closer to the training grounds, where your betrothed awaits.

as you approach, the sound of steel clashing and the grunts of exertion reach your ears. you quicken your pace, eager to see him. rounding the corner, you spot jacaerys in the courtyard, his sword slicing through a practice dummy with precision. he looks every bit the warrior prince, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he moves.

"you're late." he teases, a playful glint in his eyes when he sees you.

"i had to make sure no one saw me… or followed me." you reply, grinning. "wouldn't want to ruin my prince's reputation with my unladylike behavior."

jacaerys laughs, the sound warm and genuine. he steps forward, handing you a practice sword. "let's see if your skills have improved, my lady."

you take the sword, feeling its weight in your hands. despite the countless hours of secret training, the weapon still feels foreign compared to the delicate quilting needles you're expected to master.

but as you face jacaerys, determination sets in. you refuse to be underestimated.

he takes a offensive stance, and you mirror him. the first clash of your swords sends a shiver down your spine. the thrill of combat, the crash of steel—it’s intoxicating.

jace had mentioned the fact the first night he decided to train you. he was adamant, talking out of his head, rash yet horribly kind.

your prince has never fully bent for the rules. while the rest of court frowned upon their future queen welding the weapon of men, your love did not. he seeks only to encourage you.

jacaerys pushes you, sending you backwards, testing your limits. his movements are fluid, graceful even, but he holds back, allowing you to find your rhythm.

"you've improved!" he says, parrying a particularly aggressive strike. "but you still leave your left side vulnerable."

you huff, annoyed at his observation. "show me how to fix it, then."

with a grin, jacaerys steps closer, his eyes locked onto yours. he adjusts your stance, his hands firm and guiding. "like this..." he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. your heart skips a beat, the proximity of his body sending a jolt of electricity through you.

you nod, trying to focus on his instructions. he steps back, and you both resume your positions. this time, you're ready. when he strikes, you deflect, moving with more confidence.

slowly, jace’s hits grow less suppression— his eyes alight as you begin to match his pace. his true equal.

jace finally errs, striking out hastily and allowing your to draw back. quickly, and before he can recover, you leap forward and strike him. your swords’ edge pressing lightly into his practice chestplate. you lower your sword, panting. jacaerys stands opposite you, a proud smile on his lips.

"using my own teachings against me." he says, voice filled with admiration. "should i be wary of your true plans with these lessons?”

you laugh, shaking your head. "never, my prince. i simply mean to protect at your side."

he steps closer, his expression softening. "that's all i could ask for." he whispers.

"perhaps one day." you reply, a smirk playing on your lips. "save you ever entertain the notion of a mistress."

jacaerys chuckles, a twinkle in his eyes. "i would sooner seek the fate of dragonfire."

you can't help the foolish smile your lips curve into, “i’ll hold you to your promise, my prince."

he bows slightly, his dark hair falling back from his face. "i eagerly make this oath,” he looks up at you, soft smirk on his face, “my queen.”

you pull him into a hug, free of the watchful eyes of the usually bustling castle. he melts into your embrace, agile hands finding home at the small of your back. the pair of you stay like that for a while, fueled purely by each others company.

"i should probably head back before someone realizes i'm missing," you say reluctantly, already dreading the return to your stifling halls.

jacaerys nods, understanding flickering in his gaze. "until next time then, my lady. on time, perhaps?"

with a roll of your eyes and a soft smile, you hand back the practice sword and turn to leave. you feel his eyes watch you as you disappear into the castle’s walls—and somehow, the knowledge of that feels much more powerful than any weapon.

#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys x reader #prince jacaerys #jacaerys x you #jace velaryon #jace velaryon x reader #jace velaryon x you #hotd fanfic #jacaerys velaryon x reader #hotd jacaerys #jacerys targaryen #jacaerys x y/n #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x you #[.𖥔 ݁🐉 ˖]

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somuchforahobby · 1 month ago

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how many secrets can you keep?

Summary: An arranged marriage to everyone's fav tsar

Part 2: crawling back to you Words: 10K Tags: Fluff & angst Warnings: women used as bargain to win wars ? Gifs stolen from: @goatsandgangsters Read on AO3 ******

The Palace was much bigger than you were told. As soon as you stepped off the carriage you were led to what would be your rooms. On the right was a big bed, a sitting area in front of a chimney and a bathroom. At the end of the room there was a door to the balcony.

You stood on the balcony for what felt like hours thinking about all of this. An arranged marriage, a bitter laugh on your lips. Damned your father to have sold you off to Ravka and damned the King for buying you off in exchange for an alliance with Kerch. The irony of it all would drive you crazy.

“It is a nice view” a voice behind startled you. It was a man in ragged and dirty clothes. “Do you ice-skate?” There was a shit eating grin on his handsome face.

“No”

“Perhaps you will learn this winter” he pointed to the lake, “it becomes a ice rink”

“Does the tsar skate?”

His grin turned into a half smile, “he does, or tries to.”

“Who are you?”

“A friend”

“Of who?” You looked him up and down.

“Hopefully yours”

“I don’t think I’ll be allowed to have male friends” you looked at him again, “not that handsome at least” a blush raced to your cheeks.

“Yeah, you should ask your fiancé” The stranger leaned against the balcony, next to you.

“When I meet him” a disdained sight left your mouth, “do you work here?”

“Yes”

“What do you do?”

“A little bit of everything but first and foremost I’m an inventor”

“Of what?”

“Mmmm” he tapped fingers against his mouth, thinking, “ships, aircrafts”

“Are you part of the army?”

“Yes I am”

“Is it true that Ravka has flying ships?”

He laughed, “it is true, I invented them myself”

“The groom is not supposed to see the bride before the wedding!” A beautiful red haired woman shouted from inside of the room. She was wearing a kefta and glaring daggers at the man next to you.

“Your highness.” You bowed your head slightly to him.

“Please don’t.” He took a step forward, his hands raised awkwardly at his sides, uncertain what to do with them. “Please don’t ever do that again, it is just Nikolai.”

You raised your eyes to see him and nodded.

“You can have all the friends you want” he smirked, “none of them will be this handsome anyway”

You nodded, suddenly ashamed of your bolt of honesty.

“Hey” he lifted your face to see him, “we will see a way to make this work.” He gave you a half smile that told you he was not comfortable with this either.

“I am sure we will.” You gave him one of your own, “Nikolai.”

And with that, his smile was complete.

***

The ceremony was beautiful, you had to thank Genya for all the attention to detail in the decorations as well as to your dress. The white and golden gown worthy of fairy tales had been a perfect choice.

You drank and danced with your husband and guests, and although every single member of Nikolai’s court treated you wonderfully, your smile could not quite reach your eyes. There was an unspoken sorrow in your heart, no matter how handsome and kind your husband was, you did not know him and yet you now had to devote your life to him.

You thanked the servant who helped you out of the dress, walked into your joint bedroom in your nightgown and your heart stomping out of your chest.

Your husband was taking off his jewelry when he spotted you through the mirror, a shy smile on his face.

“Hey” he greeted first.

“Hi” you walked to him, “would you like me to call someone to help you?”

“No, thanks. I can do it.” He continued with the buttons on his jacket. Although the gloves made the task much more difficult.

“I can help you, then.” His hands laid nimbly at his sides as your fingers did the work efficiently. “You looked very handsome today.” You complimented, trying to get the conversation flowing.

“Thank you. I must admit I felt quite jealous, I don’t think I could ever look as good as you, my queen.”

Your face flushed at his compliment, quickly finishing with his jacket and taking a step back, looking down.

“Are you alright?”

You figured it was best to be honest about it. “I am nervous, Nikolai. I have never done this and I hope I can, well, please you.” Your face was crimson by the time you finished the sentence, but his’ was puzzled.

“Done what?” His brows furrowed.

“Consummate a marriage.” You looked away in shame.

He scoffed. “Neither have I, I’m afraid this is my first marriage.”

His joke release tension from you, making you smile, “you know what I mean.”

“I do, but you don’t have to worry about that.” His gloved fingers guided your chin to look back at him. “I have no intentions of doing it tonight, or any other night, as long as you do not want it. I do not find your fear desirable.”

A breeze of relief fell on you.

“I asked for your room to be ready for tonight, you can stay there as long as you like. This thing-“ his hand gestured to the space between your bodies, “will take time, and I have no intention in hurrying it.”

“Thank you. But I know why I am here, Nikolai. If this thing” you mirrored his gesture, “doesn’t work, just know I know my duty.”

He contemplated you for a minute before speaking again. “I will not bring a child product of fear and disdain into this world. It would not make a good king.” He leaned in and placed a tender kiss on your forehead. “Good night, my queen.”

With that, you left his room for the night, grateful that you had not married an ape.

***

“I did not know I had married a little myshka.” Your husband smiled from the door of the library, bringing one to your own face.

“Moi tsar.” You teased, “what a surprise to see you this afternoon.”

He walked to you, hands clasped on his back, looking at the books on the table.

“Ravka’s history and myths.” When you looked up he extended a bouquet of flowers to you. “Thank you!”

“The least I can do for my queen” he sat in front of you, “how are your studies going so far?”

“Good, the life of Saints is a bit confusing, but it is going well.” You took a quick look at your notes, leaving the flowers aside, “Hopefully I can get a good idea soon enough so I can join your court, maybe?”

“Oh” he smiled, “is that what you wish to do?”

“I think so.”

“Why?” He seemed intrigued.

“Well, I was on my way to become a scholar in Ketterdam, I think I could do decent work.”

“I went to College in Ketterdam as well, quite a nice place.”

The declaration surprised you, “Oh? Never saw you there, I think.”

“I doubt we frequented the same places, darling.” He smirked.

“What was your major?”

“Law and politics.”

“Same as me.”

“Yeah but I barely spent any time in classes.”

“Were you a drunken moi tsar?” You teased.

He laughed, “I will not entertain this nonsense of accusation.”

“You were!” You laughed as well. “That is why I never saw you there.”

“You are also younger than me!” He tried to defend himself.

“Just two years, I still could have seen you in some classes.”

He scrunched his nose, “good thing you did not”

“Why?”

“I would have asked you out, of course.”

You scoffed, “I don’t think so”

“Are you joking?” a pretty girl who can do all of my homework? Darling you would have been my number one target.”

It was your turn to laugh, “then good thing you didn’t because I wouldn’t have done your homework.”

He shrugged, “I would have done mine with you, for sure.”

You blushed at his comment, feeling your face warm at the insinuation. “But we did not meet.”

He raised his shoulders, dismissing the missed opportunity.

“So… a law and politics advisor in my council. I like that. Right now it is filled with soldiers, Ravka is in urgent need of a brain there.”

You matched his smile with your own. “I’d be honored.”

His eyes were kind on you, as if he was amazed to hear you want to be part of his life. “Please let me know when you feel ready and or if you have any doubts.” He took a look at his watch and then stood up.

“Nikolai, I do have one question.” He looked back at you tenderly. “What is myshka?”

A sweet smile lightened his face, “mouse, my little library mouse.” He leaned in to kiss the top of your head before leaving you for the day.

***

Time passes so slowly when you are in a trial.

“She bleeds again.” One of you maids said during your second month in the Palace.

“You shouldn’t be running everyday, moi tsaritsa. Your eggs will fall.” the doctor ordered, little did he know you had barely seen your husband.

“It is not her bleeding we should be checking.” Some girl whispered during your breakfast at the patio, while you pointlessly drank all sorts of beverages to ‘help’ your fertility.

“He doesn’t like her because she is not noble” a whisper on your back, “neither is -“ she shut up when you looked.

“Your duty to the Lantsov Dynasty remains” a letter addressed to you from Queen Tatiana was stamped in your brain. You tossed it in the trash when you read it.

“Nikolai wants you to visit the Hospital today and send the ill his regards.” Genya announced with a smile that brought sickness to your mouth at the mere thought that everyone in the Palace knew your husband’s wishes better than you.

Whispers and voices filled your days, until it was nighttime.

Because every night, you had dinner at the quietness of your chambers and then, you would stay awake to listen when your husband came into his room, next door from your own. When he did you counted the steps that accompanied and then waited in the hall to see who and when they left.

Every night your heart sank a little deeper, because every night the same person walked out of his chambers.

And not a single time General Nazyalensky could hold your stare.

***

You were not speaking to him. You were actually avoiding him.

You ran at breakfast time, ate at council time and read in your bedroom. It was not so hard considering he didn't try to find you either and he was away constantly. Away with her, your mind shouted.

A month or so went by since the last time you had seen your husband. Until one night a servant announced the King wanted to have dinner together.

You chose the most beautiful dress in Lantsov blue, simple but elegant, to drag yourself to the dining room. He was already there in his First Army uniform, smirking at you.

“My beautiful wife.” He stood and walked to you, bringing your knuckles to his lips and placing a soft kiss. He helped you in your seat before returning to his. “I missed you, I haven’t seen you in forever.” He complained with tenderness.

You did not answer.

“I just returned from a trip with General Nazyalensky and Count Kirigin, can you believe he is crazy for her?”

You bit down a growl. The audacity of this man, you thought.

“I was hoping you’d join the council soon, how are your studies going?”

You did not answer.

“I am running out of ideas for a conversation here, darling. I think I need your help.” His tone was firm and you finally raised your eyes from your plate to his face.

You sighed, “leave us” The waiters left the room, giving you the much needed privacy. “Perhaps you should ask General Nazyalensky to join you for dinner.”

Every hint of amusement and his signature smirk were gone in an instant. “Why would I?”

“Well if you can’t help to have her in your chambers every night then perhaps you should have dinner with her as well.” Your tone was also firm.

His eyes did not falter, “it is not what you think”

“Then explain it.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me”

“You have my word, dar—”

Your scoff interrupted him. “Nikolai,” your patience thinned, “I would rather you behave like a jerk than keep up the good boy facade while you’re mocking me.”

“Because I am not!”

You covered your face with your hands, it was the lie that hurt the most. “I knew this would happen and I only ask you to be more discreet.” You sighed, keeping your face down, “the whole damn castle talks about it and I am the idiot wife who can’t even do what she was brought to do. I can’t compete with her, Nikolai. She has it all, the beauty, the power, the king’s attention. It’s excruciating.”

“Look at me.” A firm order, your eyes caught his again, only that this time you did not see Nikolai, you were looking at the King. “You do not have to compete with her or anyone else, you are my queen.” His gloved hand captured yours on the table, drawing circles on your skin with his thumb while guiding it to his chest, you could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady, “I swear to you, there is no one else, General Nazyalensky is not in my bed. You must believe me. I will do anything for you to believe me.”

“Everything but the truth.”

His heart beat faster. “What can I do to make you trust me? What do you want?”

Tears pricked your eyes, “Your attention.”

“You have it, but now I will make sure you have no doubts about it.” He closed both eyes, then swallowed, defeated. “Would it be ok with you if I paid you a visit every night, and then returned to my rooms?”

“That would be a place to start.”

“Although, the Second Army General will continue to make a brief visit afterwards.”

“Can I be there as well?”

“No.” That was definite. It amazed you how easy he changed from Nikolai to The Tsar.

“This would be easier if you told me the truth.”

An exasperated sigh left his mouth and he stood from his seat, “my word will have to do for now, myshka.”

Removing your hand from his chest, he laid a tender kiss to your knuckles before leaving the room.

***

Later that night he knocked on your door, you opened it widely and he walked all the way to the couch in front of the fireplace. “How was your day?”

You sat next to him, facing the fire, his arm extended on cushions and your shoulders. “It was alright. I have been looking for books or writings about your father’s reign but I haven’t found any.”

His gloved fingers picked a strand of your hair to toy with. “I think I can help you with that, if you’d like?”

“Please.”

“Well, umm” his gaze was lost on your hair, “what would you like to know?”

“Anything a member of your council should know.”

He thought for a minute or two, immersed in your hair, “I do not think he was a good king. All he did was send troops to borders, give power to the darkling and the apparat, I don’t think he cared for the needs of the working class.”

“And do you?”

“Of course. I’d be a fool not to, they’re the only ones who want me to keep my throne.” He gave you a lazy smile.

“Why is it different what your father did with the darkling than what you do with the triumvirate?”

He leaned back, getting more comfortable, as he weighed your question. “Because I am not relying on one person but a council of Grisha, and because they would never do the atrocities the darkling did.”

“Such as?”

“Separating families, sending children to be abused by powerful men, even to the king himself…”

“Nikolai,” you turned your whole body to face him, “that is an awful thing to say about your father.”

He released a hopeless scoff, “good thing I am not.”

Your head leaned to a side at his statement, “so it is true?”

“I am afraid so.”

“Well that is also important information for a political advisor.”

He smirked, “and to my wife.”

“I don’t think she’d care as much as Fjerda.”

“Is that a fact?” He asked playfully.

“A hundred percent.”

He leaned towards you, leaving a kiss on your temple, “That is good to know.” He mumbled against your hair.

“How was your day?”

“Awful.” He looked at the fire. “There are a bunch of people wanting to Sanctify the Darkling and my wife hates me.” He looked at you with what you guessed was some sadness in his eyes.

“I don’t think she hates you.”

The tiniest of smiles tugged at his lips, “no?”

“No. I think she is just insecure.”

“Well she shouldn’t. As a victim myself I would never inflict the pain of lies on someone else.”

“Thank you.” You whispered and his face warmed.

“Trust me, please.”

You simply nodded.

You both sat by the fire for a good while, his arm on your shoulders as you slowly dozed off.

The next morning you woke up in your bed, alone. The other side, as usual, untouched.

***

“It is not up for discussion” one of your maids had said. So now here you were, dressed in a beautiful gown, alone in the balcony while strangers celebrated your Birthday in the saloon.

The leaves on the trees had just started to fall, early signs of the upcoming autumn visible in the palace gardens. The night breeze stirred your arms, making you shiver. A warm jacket fell on your shoulders then, making you turn to find a man standing beside you.

“My apologies, moi tsaritsa. You seemed to be cold.” A tall man with dark hair said. “I am Count Anton Nerenski, your highness.”

“Thank you for your kindness, Count Nerenski.” You turned to the gardens again.

“Beautiful party, I assume that tulips are your favorite?”

Since the whole Palace was filled with them it was a fair assumption, “No. Roses are.”

“Then why haven’t I seen any?” He quipped.

You sighed, “because nobody asked me anything about this damned party.”

“If I had known roses were your favorite I would have brought you a hundred of them.”

You turned to see him, there was tenderness in his eyes, “thank you Count Nerenski.”

“Please, call me Anton.”

You smiled and he matched.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Your Highness, Where is the King?”

You sighed, unable to hide your disappointment. He left in the morning and promised to come back before the celebration, yet he had failed his promise. “He is on an important business trip.”

“And how do you feel that he is away?”

Your jaw tightened, your whole body turned to face him, “I do mind your questioning, and I am nothing but proud of the King’s work. As should you.”

“My apologies, your highness. I didn't mean to offend the King.”

“You have spent far too much time on this conversation apologizing, haven’t you?” You pressed.

He scoffed, “I have, and I am further willing to get on my knees if my queen requested so.”

A blush crept your face, understanding the nature of his intentions. “I wish for no such thing.”

“Yet,” his features softened, “but the path you are on is a lonely one, moi tsaritsa, I wish to extend you my friendship if you ever need it.”

You merely looked at him: he was a handsome man, taller than you, his eyes were the color of sapphires, and a full beard filled his face. Black hair fell to his shoulders, which were wide and built like a soldier’s. Was this how your life would be now? Men throwing themselves at you offering an affair to deal with your loneliness?

“Your beauty does not belong to a balcony, moi tsaritsa, you have not danced all night, would you like to change that?” Count Nerenski extended a hand to you.

“As caring as always Anton, but I am afraid I must steal my dashing wife’s first dance.” Nikolai’s voice took you out of your thoughts, your eyes instantly finding him. Your heart swelled on your chest at the sight of him, already taking off his First Army jacket and walking towards you. “I fear other men might try to take her for a swing, forgetting altogether that can be considered treason. Although, I would too forget protocols and loyalties at the sight of her.” Nikolai’s voice was cheerful, yet a slight treat could be found in it.

Nikolai removed Anton’s jacket from your shoulders, replacing it with his own and pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek.

Anton grabbed his jacket from Nikolai’s hand, “Your Highness” bowed towards both of you and returned to the saloon.

“My savior” you looked up to your husband.

“Would you dance with me?” He offered, his hand lingering on your waist. “I’m afraid I have to remind everyone in this Country who your husband is before they try to steal you from me.”

“Are you jealous, moi tsar?” You teased.

He huffed, “of Count Nerenski? Don’t make me laugh, dear.” His fingers tapped your waist to the rhythm of the background music.

“Then laugh.” You dared, “laugh and take the jealousy off your face.”

“I’d be jealous if you had enjoyed his company.”

“I enjoyed the warmth of his jacket.”

He scoffed, “enjoying another man's warmth, darling please just put a bullet in my head, it would wound me less”

“I am sorry, Nikolai.”

“Don’t be, unless you are actually interested in him?” There was a silent sorrow behind the question.

“I am not.”

“Then I am sorry for not arriving on time.” His gloved hand touched your cheek, you leaned to his palm. “I brought you a gift though.” From the pocket of his pants he pulled a paper and handed it to you. It was a list.

“You bought… nineteen, twentyfiv, THIRTY books?” You looked up to him to find him smiling.

“Well I could not fit them all in my pockets so I figured I’d show you the list. If you want to change them we can go to the bookstore tomorrow morning. The order sails in the afternoon to Ketterdam.”

“Nikolai” tears gathered in your eyes, touched by his present. “You didn’t have to do that, thank you.”

He placed a lock of hair behind your ear, “I might have not known you loved roses but I knew you loved books.”

“Thank you.”

“Let’s go back in there and give them a nice show, shall we?”

You nodded.

He helped you get your arms through his own jacket, “such a condecorated and beautiful soldier.”

With both hands on your nape, you pulled your hair out of the jacket. “What can I say? I'm a catch.”

He smirked, “of course you are” he guided you towards him with a hand on your waist, pushing your body against his, as you both walked back to the salon.

One of Nikolai’s valets stepped in front of you. “Your Highness, it is against protocol for the Queen to wear a military uniform as it is for the King to have an incomplete one. Also please be aware of the closeness.” The man’s eyes moved between your bodies, clashed together.

“Thank you for your suggestion, Mikhail.” Nikolai pulled you towards the dance floor.

Gasps filled the room when you both bowed before the music started; the King without his jacket and said jacket on his wife’s shoulders must have been a whole show. Anxiety left your body as soon as his hands guided your waist through the waltz.

***

You left the bath in a sheer gown, your hair wet falling on your back after your usual bath post run, and found your husband waiting for you in the same spot he had taken the day before, but instead of toying with your hair, he had one of your books in his hands and his long legs stretched on the couch. At the sight of you he raised his eyes to your body, taking an embarrassing amount of time admiring you before turning away.

“I am sorry I should have-“

You grabbed a robe and pulled it on your shoulders, “that’s fine, you can look now.”

When you saw his face, a faint blush still colored his cheeks.

“How can I be of service, moi tsar?”

He rearranged himself, allowing you to sit on the other side of the couch, nervousness could still be found in him, oddly enough. “I came to ask you to join me at the council today.”

“Yes, sure, when is it?”

He looked at his watch, “In 10 minutes.”

“Oh.” You walked to your wardrobe in a rush, trying to find something to wear.

“Punctuality is important but not mandatory for a queen, myshka. Take your time.” He leaned back and returned his gaze to the book in his hands.

Without Genya or a maid to help you, you put on a dress and dried your hair as much as possible before leaving your chambers with your husband. You had never been to the war room before, and you were just as surprised to see it as the people inside were surprised to see you.

Nikolai held your hand during the entirety of the meeting, drawing circles on your skin with his thumb, what you had now identified as an anxiety tick.

Every time some decision was to be made, he turned to you and asked your opinion, every time you said you’d rather listen this time and every time he announced again you were a political genius to the group. Shy smiles could be spotted between all of them as a blush betrayed you.

Once the meeting was over and everyone had left the room, Nikolai turned to you with the brightest smile you had seen in him yet.

“Thank you.” He placed a chaste kiss on your knuckles.

“Thank you for letting me in. I have so much to learn from all of you.”

“Nonsense.” He hooked your hand on his arm, walking out of the room with you.

***

“I have been wanting to ask you something.” You said after a few minutes of silence.

He nodded, asking you to continue.

“In Ketterdam, there were some places where people had stuff and you could go in and get it for a price.”

His eyebrows furrowed, confused. “Yeah?”

“Every month, my father gave me a certain amount of money for me to be able to get whatever things I wanted.”

Nikolai tilted his head.

“And since I have been here of course I have not yet needed to buy anything, because the Palace has it all.” You started speaking faster, “But I heard there will be an art bazaar downtown and I would like to go. However I do not have any money and I was wondering if maybe you could lend me some?”

“Lend you?” His voice was firm yet confused.

“Yes”

“And how would you pay me back?”

You had not thought about it, “I could send word to my father so—“ his laugh interrupted your rant. He had bent over his stomach laughing while you stared, not sure what was so funny.

“You are the queen of Ravka!” He said between paths, “you do not need to carry money around !” He said it like a dirty word.

“I do not understand?”

He took a long breath to rearrange himself. “You can go downtown whenever you please, you get whatever you want and ask for the tab, then bring it to my valet and forget about it.”

“Oh” you blushed, suddenly ashamed of your question. “And I can do that anywhere?”

“Nearly, yes.”

Now it was your turn to smirk.

“But please measure yourself, do not bring this country to bankruptcy.” He teased.

“You should have thought about that before laughing at your queen!” You teased back.

He sighed and sank deeper into your bedroom’s couch, “either with her beauty or her boldness, but this queen of mine is gonna drive me crazy.”

***

You hugged your legs close to your torso, leaning your face against your knees, watching him as he told you yet another story of his life at Sea. By now the only thing you wish to have done before marrying him was getting to know the notorious Sturmhond.

Nikolai was so passionate about his privateer past, the way he told the tales was so detailed, you could picture them in your head and soon after you could swear you had been there. He talked about Kaz Brekker and the crows, and your mouth opened to know he knew and was friends with your father’s biggest headache, both laughing at the thought of him finding out.

“What do you desire, Nikolai?” You asked after a few minutes of silence and looking at the nostalgia on his face.

“For peace in Ravka.” A well rehearsed answer.

“I asked Nikolai, not the tsar.”

He finally looked at you, “what I desire has no consequence since I am no longer a man but a Sovereign.”

“And if you were just a man again, what would you desire?”

His shoulders dropped with a sigh, “to sleep” he stared at the fire for a long time, then asked, “what would you desire?”

“To hold your hand.”

He grabbed your hand in his, kissing your knuckles before tangling his fingers with yours.

“Without the gloves, Nikolai.”

He did not speak for a while, just looking at your hands intertwined.

“I was cursed by the darkling.”

“I have heard, Korol Rezni.”

He looked back at you with profound sadness in his eyes, “yes, which is why I can not let you see my hands.”

He dropped your hand and stood up abruptly.

“Nikolai, plea—“

“No” again, when he turned it was the Tsar. You kept your place and nodded when he said good night.

***

You had ten people around you, all of them working to get you ready for your agenda of the day. Genya was working on your hair when you realized nobody was working anymore and instead they were bowing. You turned to find Nikolai leant against the door frame, looking at you.

“Moi tsar.” You teased and returned to look at Genya.

“My beautiful wife.” He walked to your line of sight. “Busy day?”

“Yes, I will visit the primary school today.” A bright smile lightened your face.

“By yourself?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Tamar is going with me.”

“Mmmm” he contemplated for a minute, “Tolya will go as well.”

“And what about you?” As much as you appreciated his concern, he could not be left without a bodyguard.

“I’ll be right in front of him the whole time.” He smirked, “if you don’t mind of course?”

You smiled, “I’ll be honored.”

That night you were crying on the balcony when he let himself into your room. The weight of everything you had seen that day was starting to get you.

“Darling?” His voice echoed from your bedroom.

“Over here!” You cleaned your face best as you could hoping he wouldn’t notice, but failed.

“What’s wrong?” There was concern in his voice, “are you hurt?”

You scoffed, “It’s nothing, don’t worry.”

“What’s wrong?” He guided your shoulders to him, then drew your face upwards.

“What we saw today made me a little sad.”

“The school?”

You nodded.

“I don’t think I understand?” His brows furrowed. “I saw children very happy to meet their queen.”

You turned your body towards the garden again, leaning your forearms to the balcony. “I saw boys, mostly. Little girls, that started to be less and less around the age of nine.” A long sigh left your mouth, “they are not in school because they are married, Nikolai.”

“No, that’s”

“What?” You turned to him, his brows were furrowed, he was piecing together a puzzle.

“Illegal” he muttered.

“Just because it’s illegal doesn’t make it undoable.” There was hate in your voice as you said it.

“That is what illegal means.”

“It means nothing if you don’t do anything to stop it!” You tried to regain control over yourself, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry. It’s just that I feel for all those girls who will never get to experience their lives because their parents sold them off to the highest bet.”

“Like you.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

Panic flooded you, “No! Nikolai, don’t! I am so very lucky to have you!” Your hands landed on his chest, as if you were trying to keep his heart inside.

There was a sad smile on his face as his hands circled yours, “I understand, I often wonder how different my life would be if I had been born a woman, I understand you are upset.”

“Every day I thank the Saints for the luck I have to be your wife, Nikolai. I swear.” You looked him deep in the eye, not a single doubt on your words. “I just grieve for those girls that did not have the luck I had to marry a kind man.”

He kissed both your hands and then held you into a tight hug. “Then good thing you are the queen of Ravka and can change things for them.” He mumbled on your hair.

***

You had taken your reading to the gardens. The Palace was just too much noise, too many people, so many whispers. You laid leaning against a tree, reading the Story of Saints again, trying desperately to distract your mind from the aura surrounding you.

You stared at the Palace from afar, how could a place so beautiful be so obsessed with finding other’s flaws? No doubt why the royals often went crazy.

“I have been looking for you” Nikolai’s voice startled you, making you drop your book from your hands to the floor. He sat next to you on the grass. “What are you doing?”

You did not turn to him, “just reading”

He took the book from the grass and gave it back to you, “Do not let me stop you.”

“Please do, I can’t even focus.”

“mmmm” His arm rounded your shoulders, “come here” You leaned your head on his chest. “Does that have anything to do with my trip to the Fold?”

“Not the trip, really.”

“The crew.”

You shrugged.

“Darling, I beg of you not to listen to that nonsense.” His hands moved up and down your arm. “It’s not easy when people laugh around me.”

“You could have them hanged for treason, you know?”

You scoffed, “Yeah, that would make me a very beloved queen.”

He sighed, with his free hand, he guided your chin upward to face him, “Then let’s issue a statement.” There was a sassy smirk on his face.

“A statement?”

His eyes fell from your own to your lips briefly, “yeah.”

“what would it say?”

“Have dinner with me today, I’ll send Genya to your room to have you ready at 7.”

You just stared at him, not sure what to say nor what to think.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think I can say no to you moi tsar.” a shy smile threaded on your lips.

“For the sake of my intentions I’mma say that is correct.”

After a romantic dinner in the garden, he walked you to the main saloon.

When the door opened your mouth did as well. The whole floor was filled with short little candles.

You turned to see him in awe and he merely shrugged like it was nothing. A runway leading from the door to the center was lit by larger ones, where a wide circle was also free of fire. He walked with you through it and once you were in the middle of the room, a quartet of musicians started to play a waltz.

“Would you honor me a dance?” He offered his hand and you nodded.

He grabbed your waist in a heartbeat, like if your body called to him. Your hand on his chest felt meant to be. He swayed you like a doll, like a well rehearsed play. His signature smirk was permanent on his face.

“What is this, Nikolai?” You asked, blushed.

He made you swirl and you caught servants looking from the balconies above.

He shrugged, “a statement.” He leaned to your shoulder, his lips gracing your skin, “may I?”

“I don’t think I can say no to you, can I?”

You felt him smile, “I don’t think you can, no.” He mumbled before leaving a path of chaste kisses on your exposed shoulder.

“Nikolai”

“Mmm?” He mumbled against your skin.

“What does this statement say?”

He raised his head to see you, a gilded smile on his face, “that the King of Ravka is head over heels for his wife and that he would do anything to show her how he feels.”

“And is it true?”

His forehead leaned on yours, not granting you an answer.

“Nikolai?”

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Like it was an order, his lips found yours immediately. He guided your hand to his neck and his arms moved to circle your waist, his lips evolved into a soft, romantic kiss. He was tender, kind, his lips were begging you for more in the kindest of ways.

Your chest tightened in desire, and you could feel the thread where his control was hanging, you pulled back to regain yourself, leaning against him again.

His breath was agitated, but so was yours, he stole a short kiss and then continued his path on your shoulder.

A few waltz later, he guided you to your room. apologizing for not being able to stay any longer, He went into his chambers and soon after you heard someone else walk by.

The next morning he was gone before sunrise, but your room dawned with a bouquet of fresh roses and a goodbye note from him.

***

Protocols aside, you nearly jumped to hug him when he finally returned. You heard his chest rumble with giggles as he wrapped his arms around you, “Did you miss me, moi tsaritsa?” He whispered in your ear.

Pushing away you answered, looking up to him, “Greatly.”

His eyes were fixed on your lips, “May I kiss you? You know, so everyone sees it.”

“You may.”

He leaned down to kiss you, a soft yet needy kiss for every witness to see how much the King had missed his wife; the tenderness of a devoted husband along with the urgent need of a man. It was a display, yet your heart had not gotten the memo, since it was stomping out of your chest.

He pulled away first, his eyelashes fluttering against your brow, his breath hitching your face.

“I missed you too.” He said before kissing the top of your nose and finally taking a step back.

***

Since he returned, he made it his personal goal to kiss you whenever you were surrounded by other people, he had even said so the first time he did. You found him as you walked out of the library towards the garden, he was leaving his study with the council, and the second he saw you his hands cradled your face and kissed you briefly, for then tilt his head sideways and deepen the kiss. When he pulled away you saw everyone around you was flushed and trying to look away, except for Genya who had a genuine smile on her face. Nikolai then winked at you, and continued his path.

***

When he was focused he would not even look at you. Sitting on his desk and with a thousand papers in front of him, his eyes were reading page after page, immersed in paperwork about the year expenses and needs, you knew this was your chance.

You walked to his desk, until your thighs graced his forearms. Almost instinctively, his hand landed near your hip.

“Yes, love?” He asked, not raising his eyes.

“Nikolai, could you please sign this?” You put the paper in front of him, without hesitation he drew a signature on the bottom of the page and continued his reading.

You bent down and kissed his cheek then started your path out of his office.

“Darling” he called when you were near the door.

“Yes?” You turned with feigned innocence on your face.

“What did I sign?” There was a small smirk on his lips and light amusement in his eyes.

You smiled playfully, “A law.”

“Oh?” His smirk grew. “About what?”

You returned to his side and gave him the paper, he took it with a playful smirk and read it.

“Mandatory school for girls?” He looked up to you.

You nodded.

He stood from his chair, taking you in his arms. He smelled like woods, like sea, like fire, like freedom and class, like a prince from a fairytale. your arms wrapped around his waist briefly before he let you go. “Please see it published first thing in the morning.”

He sat again but his gaze remained fixed on you, a mix of admiration and fondness emanating from him. “And please keep doing this.”

“That you can be certain of.”

“Darling” his hand hovered above your knee, he was not touching you but you could feel the warmth of his skin even through the gloves and the heavy fabric of your dress. He looked up tenderly, “I have plenty of work to catch up tonight, I’d recommend you to get some sleep, I don’t think I can join you today.”

“I understand.” You bit your lower lip and turned to leave the room.

“Think of how you want me to make it up to you.”

You turned to see him again, there was a boyish smirk on his face, and you matched with your own. “I already know.”

“And what do you want, moi tsaritsa?”

“I want you to take me on a date outside the Palace, I want to see Ravka.”

His brows lifted in surprise, a shadow crossed his face.

“Have I offended you in any way?”

He sighed, leaning back on his chair, “not in the slightest. I find it disappointing that I have not done my job courting you properly and I apologize for that.”

“A king does not need to court, your highness.” You teased.

“Not out of need, but of desire. The day I met you I promised you we would make this work, I intended to make it so by courting you and hopefully making you fall in love with me, and look at us: you have to beg me to spend time with you.”

You walked to his desk, a playful smile on your face, “I have not begged yet.”

That brought a slight blush to his cheeks. He placed both elbows on the desk, his gaze intensifying on you “and I am certain you’d look delightful but if I am to make you beg it won’t be for time.” Now it was your turn to blush. “I will take you out on a date, the day after tomorrow. I’ll send you something to wear.”

“You already know where we are going?”

His smirk deepend, “I always have.”

You bit your lower lip to hide your smile and nodded once before leaving the room.

For about fifteen minutes you considered going to Tolya since you felt your heart was leaving your chest right away.

***

Nikolai spent the day submerged in meetings, from one room to another, you heard people passing by all day as you were in the library, which is why you were not expecting him that night. You guessed he was either too tired or still too busy to come to your rooms, and given you were almost certain your hand was injured from all the writing you had done, you made yourself comfortable and dipped your strained hand in a bucket of warm water. That’s how he found you, sitting on the couch, in your spot, with your hand up to the elbow in water while you calmly looked at the fire.

“Are you alright?”

You turned to him with surprise on your face, “Nikolai”

He walked to you, looking at your hand, then repeated himself, “are you alright?”

“Yes, it’s just that I wrote too much today.”

He grabbed a towel and sat next to you, taking your hand out the water and drying it before massaging it softly. “Was it another Law?” With a raised brow he lifted his gaze to you.

You merely shrugged.

“I appreciate your service but not to this point, myshka. Your wellbeing is this country’s priority, do not forget that.”

You pouted at his scorn, leaning against his shoulder. “How was your day?” Your voice was dipping in tenderness.

He sighed, “exhausting” he kissed your hand before extending an arm on your shoulders, you rearranged yourself on his chest. “As much as I wanted to come home to read in the gardens with my wife, a lot happened while I was away that required my attention.”

“Your wife requires your attention as well.”

A dark smirk formed on his lips, “she does?” He shifted, from being relaxed against the couch to sitting straight with his body angled towards yours, a hunter lurking his prey, “And how can I oblige to her needs?”

“Take a wild guess”

“I fear I might take one that turns out to be too wild.” His gaze was fixed on your lips.

“And?”

“Might scare you off”

“Impossible”

He let out a scoff, “Sturmhond would say that you mean improbable.”

“Oh? I wonder what the notorious privateer would do in this situation?” You teased.

An amused sigh left his mouth, “things that are far too scandalous to be even mentioned in front of a queen.”

“I’d suggest not to say them and just do them, then.”

“Even worse.”

“Ummm” you feigned deception, “too bad, I would have loved to meet the guy. I heard he has quite a reputation.”

“Really?” Nikolai’s ego shone through his smile.

“Oh, yes. I’d like to know if what I have heard turns out to be true.” You laid on your back, him following closely.

“And what have you heard?”

“Things that are far too scandalous to be even mentioned in front of a King.”

He was practically on top of you know, his lips roaming yours.

“Then it is probably true.” He was practically on top of you now, his face millimeters above yours. “Please tell me what you want, love.” A jolt of honesty and vulnerability dominated his eyes, pulling the lust and desire away to accommodate your needs first.

“You, Nikolai.”

“Nobody is watching now.”

It screwed your brains that he might think you only wanted him when you could be seen. One of your brows lifted in a challenge, “Then do your worst.”

His lips crashed against yours, but this time his tempo was slow and cautious, not a hint of urgency and need, but a patient lover with all the time in the world. Your hands rounded his neck and his’ supported him while cradling your face.

His legs moved in between yours, applying light pressure in your core with his hips, earning a muffled moan from your lips. He pulled away, his eyes dark with desire and mouth open with adoration. “Tell me what you want”

“I can not move further without the touch of your hand, Nikolai, please.”

A half smile crossed his lips, “you truly are a delight begging” his sight roamed your face, “close your eyes” a firm order, you obliged.

Rough and cold fingers wrapped around your hand, lifting it over your head, while the other set touched your face lightly, you could feel all calluses and scars roaming your cheek, then your neck, and after a brief lack of touch, climbing up your ankle.

“Nikolai” you moaned.

“Shh” he let go of your hand to touch your lips with his thumb, “you’re so soft” you could hear him near, the pressure on your core harder every second. He pushed his thumb in your mouth, a weird taste of charcoal in your tongue as you licked it, he groaned in your ear, “can’t wait to feel more of you” his hand finally stopped on your hip, pulling his thumb out and resuming his kiss. His hands were still cold, but somehow made you feel even warmer.

He was toying with your undergarments, cold fingers stretching the soft fabric and touching all around, except where you needed him the most. You wondered how it might be, cold fingers against your hot core, and it made you dizzier.

It was becoming too much: the warmth of the chimney, his body on top of you and the coldness of his hands. You wanted to scream, to beg him to please take you now, but you could only continue under his torturous pace, kissing him back, your hands roaming his chest and making a mess of his hair, pulling his curls out of its perfect place. A gentle tug of his hair earned you a groan, which nearly pushed you off the edge.

“Can I take these off?” He tugged your undergarments, panting.

“Yes.”

“Beg” he said in your ear.

“Nikolai, please.”

“That is not begging.”

“Nikolai, I beg you to take them off.”

“That’s my girl” he bit your ear while pulling the fabric.

A loud knock made you open your eyes abruptly to see him hide his hands from your sight “close your eyes” he instructed.

You heard the sound of fabric, steps and a door open. “Nikolai” General Nazyalensky’s voice filled the room, “We received correspondence from the Termite, there are Fjerdan troops marching south. The council is waiting for you in the war room.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes”

The door closed and he was back in your eyesight. He sat between your legs again, admiring you for a minute.

“Care to continue?” You teased.

“We’ll have to put a raincheck on that” He said and you blushed at his blunt rejection, turning your face away from him. Suddenly he was on top of you again, his now gloved hands guiding your face towards his’, “because I only have a couple minutes and with you I need so much more than that, myshka.” He kissed you deeply again, it felt like a natural thing now. “Get some sleep, I’ll see you in the morning for our date.” He stood up, extending a hand to help you do the same. You took it.

“Don’t you have a war to attend?”

“It will have to wait for another day.” With that he kissed you again before rearranging himself and leaving with a flirty wink.

***

The smell of flowers woke you up. When your eyes opened you realized your room was filled with roses of all colors. On every surface of the room there was a thick bouquet and on the nightstand a note that read

I am not sure if they are a hundred, but I brought you all the roses of Ravka.

-Nik.

There were more than a hundred, for sure. You stood on your tiptoes, careful not to kick any, as you inspected every single vase, each one had a card sending you regards from the flower shop, each of them further away than the other. How had Nikolai gathered them all this morning, you had no clue.

Minutes later one of Nikolai’s valets left a box with clothes in it. After you changed into them, a plain white shirt, trousers and boots, you met your husband in the dais of the main stairs.

“Dashing as ever” His signature smirk greeted you.

His outfit was similar to yours, way too simple for a king. He escorted you out and towards the lake, where you found a ship.

“Am I meeting Sturmhond today?” You asked with a smile.

“Maybe”

He helped you on the ship, and after putting on a green jacket, he instructed the squallers as the ship caught the air and rose.

A gasp left your mouth in terror and your husband was at your side in an instant, holding you close to him. For a while there was only him, your face buried on his chest, his smell grounding you. Then everything was calm again, and softly he pulled away and guided you to the bow, one hand on your waist and one on the railing.

“You wanted to see Ravka… I thought to show you your whole kingdom.”

Out of words, you explored the frozen woods of the North and the border with Fjerda; the vastness of the city of Os Alta, the desert on what used to be the Fold, all the cultures and colors of the southern cities, the clarity of the shore. All the while Nikolai whispered stories in your ear, his chest pressed against your back and his hands on your waist.

You ate at Os Kervo, where you both had to be tailored to go undercover, his now ginger hair bouncing free.

You stood on the docks, looking at the sea.

“Missing home?” His chin leaned against your shoulder.

“You are my home now, Nikolai.”

He turned you and kissed you fiercely. There, in the docks of Os Kervo, tailored away from your royal faces, you were just two idiots in love. No protocols to respect or whispers to feed; just two lovers intertwined, hypnotized by their most animalistic needs of each other. Sturmhond took risks Nikolai wouldn’t; like pulling your hair and letting his fingers dig your skin, biting your lips and tasting your tongue, he pulled muffled moans out of you like a child takes cookies out of a jar. Your knees buckled, but his strong arms were there to hold you and continue his quest. When he was done, he leaned your foreheads together, gasping for air.

“Such a conqueror” you whispered, panting.

“And I am not done yet.” His threat made your legs weak again.

You barely kept your hands off each other on the way back, but your control was completely lost as soon as you arrived at the Palace.

Your legs were on his hips, and his hands supporting them as you both walked in, the welcoming party waiting for you quickly dissipated as he carried you up the stairs and to your bedroom.

He pushed you against the wall, and once the door was closed and secured, he carried you to the bed.

“Careful with my roses” you teased.

“I’ll plant you a whole new garden”

His body was pressed on yours, both of you working on taking your clothes off. You pushed him making land on his back, straddling him, his naked torso to your bare chest.

“No objection to that” a lopsided grin on his face

You took his hands, touching the fabric of his gloves, your eyes kindly asking for permission. His breath was ragged when he nodded.

Softly, you pulled the fabric from each finger, making them loose enough to pull out the right hand first. His eyes were closed, defeated, ashamed, as you completely removed both gloves. You laid a wet kiss on each one before kissing his palms and then moved to intertwine your fingers to his. They were black and cold, different, for sure, but not worth hiding and definitely better than those stupid gloves.

“Nikolai”

“Mmm” his eyes remained closed, his chest to yours while you sat on his lap.

“touch me”

“I don’t want the darkling’s curse on you.”

“Please”

“Are you not” he swallowed, “disgusted?”

“Not in the slightest”

He finally touched your face, his palm on your cheek felt cold but you leaned to his touch nonetheless.

“Does your night visitator have anything to do with this?”

Nikolai’s head fell forward in shame, “yes”

He remained silent as you pampered his face with kisses, falling back on the bed but now with a defeated aura.

“The darkling turned me into a monster”

“Don’t say that” your head was on his chest, your whole body wrapped on his.

“I wish this was a theatricality, love” You looked at him tenderly. “He literally turned me into a monster, Alina saved me or so I believed, when she destroyed the Fold. But the monster is still in me, it comes back at night sometimes. That is why Zoya chains me to bed every night.”

Your gasp broke his heart in a million pieces.

“That is why I do not sleep with you, I am afraid I might hurt you, kill you, while I am that damned monster.”

You took his hands and guided them to your waist, the cold of his fingers giving you chills. Softly, you left a trail of wet kisses on his ear, his neck, until he undoubtedly lost himself in you again.

The weight of his arm on your waist dulled you to the deepest, coziest sleep you have ever had, until a metallic clac woke you up. There was a slim figure standing on the foot of your bed, as you blinked the darkness away you realized it was Zoya toying with a set of keys. Her beautiful face was pursed, at least she was not enjoying this.

“I am sorry, I must take Nikolai to his rooms.” She whispered.

Nikolai moved next to you, his fingers wrapping on your waist as he laid sleepy kisses on your shoulder. “Mmmm?” He mumbled deep in sleep.

“He is asleep, he won’t turn into a monster tonight.”

“We do not know that, Your Majesty.”

“Zoya?” Nikolai asked, blinking.

“I will be waiting in your rooms, Nikolai.” She turned to you, “good night, moi tsaritsa.”

“I’ll go with you.” You turned to him.

Your husband got to his feet, buttoning his shirt, “No.”

“Nikolai”

He kissed your forehead and left.

***

Nikolai knocked on your door every night for five nights, not a single one you opened.

***

“I know we are not on speaking terms” Nikolai spoke from the other side of the desk where you had spent your afternoon.

You did not look up to him.

“But I have a gift for you.”

You raised your eyes to him, sneering.

“Ouch”

“A gift does not change anything, Nikolai.”

“I do not expect it to.”

You raised one eyebrow, insting him to continue.

He flexed his fingers and a man carrying a machine entered, placing the machine in front of you. It took you a few minutes to see it: it had … buttons? with the alphabet, although it was not in order. It had two rollers behind the alphabet and a paper sheet in between.

“It is a typing machine” he leaned near you to explain, “you can use this to type the laws instead of writing them down by hand and hurting yourself.”

Your eyes were glued on the machine. “Where did you get it?”

“I built it”

You raised your eyes to him again, but this time they were filled with wonder and admiration. “Thank you.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt, love” he said looking at the machine, but you knew he wasn’t referring only to it, “everything I do, I do it aiming for that.”

With that, he left the library, leaving you and your typing machine alone.

***

That night he knocked on your door once again, but this time you opened, leaning against the frame, opening just enough for your body to fit.

“Yes, Moi Tsar?”

“I…” he swallowed, “was wondering if I could join you for a moment?”

“You can join me for the night or not at all.”

His eyes closed in annoyance, “love you are taking this too far now”

“Am I? Or am I merely demanding my husband to trust me half as much as he trusts his soldiers?”

He faced the floor, exasperated. “As much as I hate to say this: they are replaceable. You are not.”

A scoff, “I’ll make you wish I was, Nikolai.”

With that you closed the door on his face.

#grishaverse #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov fanfic #arranged marriage

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j-k-writes · 5 months ago

Text

The Bronze Targaryen - 6

Summary - The year 115 AC brings about many changes in Westeros.

Warnings - character death, childbirth, general HOTD warnings

The bed was cold when (Y/N) awoke. He reached out to where Rhaenyra was laying, only to find empty sheets. He groaned, burying his face in the pillow.

“I’m over here.” Rhaenyra said, hearing his movements. He mumbled into the pillow in response. “What was that?”

(Y/N) turned onto his back, “It is too early for you to be up.”

Rhaenyra stood, walking over to the bed. “It is nearly midday.”

“Oh.”

Rhaenyra sat down next to him on the bed, “Oh.”

He sat up on his elbows. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

She reached out, running her fingers through his messy hair. “You looked like you needed sleep.”

(Y/N) smirked, sitting up further and grabbing Rhaenyra, pulling her onto his lap. She yelped indignantly, smacking him lightly on his chest as he laughed. He pressed a kiss to her lips, and she smiled against his mouth. “I think we both need sleep.”

“That is not what I meant and you know it.”

He pulled back, “I am fine.”

“You have not been sleeping well,” Rhaenyra said. “You have been stressed since your cousins left.”

“I am just worried about my grandsire. He is not well.”

“And Gunthor.”

(Y/N) shook his head, “Do not worry about him.” Rhaenyra frowned, opening her mouth but before she could speak (Y/N) captured her lips in his. He pulled away, resting his forehead against Rhaenyra’s. “If you worry about him, I must worry about him. And I do not wish to, I want to just be here with you.”

Rhaneyra frowned, but nodded nonetheless. She untangled their legs, standing up and grabbing (Y/N)’s hand. “You should eat.”

He broke his fast as Rhaenyra’s handmaidens moved in and out of the room, helping Rhaenyra properly dress and leaving clothes out for (Y/N). Rhaenyra helped (Y/N) dress when she was finished. They did not leave the room after they were finished, they had not been asked to court since their wedding. (Y/N) did not mind the break from the court, allowing him to spend his days in the yard and with Harwin, checking on the knight’s wounds. Rhaenyra did not share his indifference, feeling like once again her father was neglecting her role as heir. She refused to listen to (Y/N) when he tried to soothe her worries, but (Y/N) could not blame her. The two heirs were in different situations and (Y/N) had only words to offer in ways of comfort.

Ser Erryk entered the room, drawing the attention of the two teens. “Prince Daemon is here to see you both.”

Rhaenrya looked to (Y/N) who nodded, before speaking, “Let him in.”

(Y/N) frowned at his father’s demeanor as he entered the room, waiting for the door to close behind him before opening his mouth to speak. “A raven came for you, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) gestured for his father to hand it over, and as his father placed the letter in his hand he said, “You must leave for Runestone at once.”

(Y/N)’s heart dropped, and he opened the parchment.

Prince (Y/N),

It is with a heavy heart that I write to you. Your grandsire, Lord Yorbert, Lord of Runestone, passed during the hour of the owl. He went peacefully, and he is with your ancestors now. I am aware you are in the first days of marriage, but with your grandsire’s passing you are now the Lord of Runestone.

Maester Pate

“Your cousins have not yet reached the Vale.” Daemon spoke. “If you take Vermithor you will get there to claim your seat before they even cross The Trident.”

“Claim your seat?” Rhaenyra looked between the two men, and (Y/N) handed her the letter. She read it quickly, eyes widening as she took in the words.

“You must claim your seat.”

“Uncle his grandsire has just died,” Rhaenyra objected. “Let him mourn, the politics of the realm-”

“This is not about the politics of the realm.” Daemon spat, turning to (Y/N). “This is about taking your rightful place before Gunthor learns about your grandsire’s death.”

Rhaenyra frowned, “(Y/N) is the rightful heir, Gunthor would not be so bold as to try to undermine that.”

Daemon gave his son a pointed look, and (Y/N) sighed letting his hand fall into his hands. He did not know his cousin’s intentions, he did not trust him, but a simple feeling did not prove anything. In fact he barely knew his cousin, having only met him half a dozen times in his youth, but the unfamiliarity only fuled his distrust.

He rubbed his face, groaning, “I cannot take that chance. I must leave for Runestone.”

Daemon nodded, “I will make sure your things are packed.”

Daemon turned on his heel, walking out of the room. Rhaenyra turned to her husband as soon as the doors were shut. “I am coming with you.”

“You must stay here-”

“You are my husband.” Rhaenyra stood, standing directly in front of where (Y/N) was sitting. “I should be at your side.”

(Y/N) sighed, reaching his hand out and Rhaenyra gently grasped it. He looked at Rhaenyra, “You are the heir to the Iron Throne. You are already uncertain of your place in this court. I do not know how long I will be at Runestone, but you cannot afford to be away from court for too long, not now.”

Rhaenyra scoffed, and (Y/N) continued, standing up from his seat, “I will fly to Runestone on Vermithor. I will secure my seat, our future child’s seat, and then when that business is done I will return to you.”

Rhaenyra cupped his cheek, bringing their foreheads together. “Take what is yours, and then return to me.”

“Lord Royce.”

(Y/N) looked up from the books he was looking over, placing down his quill. The boy standing at the door looked between (Y/N) and Maester Pate nervously, holding a piece of parchment in his hand.(Y/N) recognized him as the young page that had been attending to Maester Pate in the rookery.

Maester Pate cleared his throat, “Well, what is it?”

“There is a raven for Lord Royce.”

“Give it here.” (Y/N) waved the boy over. The boy placed the rolled up parchment on the desk. “What is your name?”

“Jasper, my lord. I mean- my prince.”

(Y/N) chuckled, “My lord is fine, thank you, Jasper.”

Jasper bowed, practically tripping over himself to run out of the room. (Y/N) picked the parchment up between two fingers, it bore the seal of House Targaryen. He’d received many ravens from Kingslanding in his absence, many from his father, the most from Rhaenyra.

He kept them both updated on the situation in Runestone. Not that there was much to update, Gunthor was still playing an active role in the governance of the keep, much to (Y/N)’s frustration. He had no real proof that the man was up to anything, other than his odd actions during his grandsire’s final months and the queasy feeling that settled in (Y/N)’s gut anytime the man opened his mouth.

He picked his dagger up off the table, carefully prying off the wax seal before unrolling the parchment and reading the letter.

Valzȳrys,

I hope you are well, and that Runestone is prospering.

I have been quite ill these past few weeks, the maesters could determine no cause. Until last week.

My maids were dressing me when Elinda pointed out that my dress did not lace as tightly as it had before, and that I had not bled since before the wedding. Immediately the maester was called, and it is Grand Maester Mellos opinion that I am with child. He estimates that I am in my second moon of pregnancy, and my father already suspects the babe will be a boy.

I apologize for not writing of the news sooner, but to tell the truth when I first heard the news, and even now, I am not sure how I feel. I am overjoyed at the idea of a child with the best features of us both, a future dragonrider, and the future heir to The Iron Throne. But my mother died on the birthing bed, and suffered long before then through countless unsuccessful births. I do not wish to die in a puddle of my own blood as she did. But despite my fears, I am happy with the news, as surprising as it is, and I hope that you share my feelings.

I think of you every night, and miss your presence by my side.

Olvie jorrāelagon,

Rhaenyra

(Y/N) read the parchment three times, dissecting every word written by his wife. He looked up at where Maester Pate was still standing. “Bring me my cousin.”

“Gunthor?”

“Gerold, Pate.”

The maester bowed, exiting the room, and (Y/N) sighed leaning back in his chair. He resigned himself to getting no more work done today, and started to put the books away. When Gerold entered (Y/N) did not speak, he simply handed him the letter and watched his cousin’s face as he took in its contents.

“I wish to return to Kingslanding.” (Y/N) said when it was clear his cousin was finished.

“Of course.” Gerold said. “I do not blame you.”

(Y/N) bit his lip, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Will you not be returning?” Gerold asked, taking in his younger cousin’s tense posture.

“What do you think of Gunthor?” (Y/N) asked, deciding it was better to be blunt than to beat around the bush. Especially if he wanted to make his decision.

Gerold paused, opening his mouth and closing it multiple times as if he was struggling to articulate his answer.

“Speak honestly, cousin. I will not fault you for your opinions.”

His cousin took a deep breath, “I do not know what to think.”

(Y/N) motioned for him to elaborate.

“I had not seen him in years until your grandsire fell ill. I wanted to write to you to tell you of his illness, since as his chosen heir it would’ve been your place to take over the responsibilities of Runestone. But your cousin Gunthor urged me not to disturb you.”

(Y/N) nodded, “Can I trust you, Gerold?”

“Of course.”

“I fear Gunthor may have ambitions above his station. I cannot prove it but-” He paused, unsure of how to continue.

“You do not feel comfortable leaving Runestone unsure of his intentions.” His cousin finished, and (Y/N) nodded.

“You must understand,” (Y/N) said. “I wish to see my wife, and help her through these times but I cannot in good conscience leave Runestone when my position is not yet secure.”

Gunthor frowned, “What will you do then?”

(Y/N) groaned, dropping his head in his hands. “Can I not send him away and be done with it all?”

“Sending him away will not stop him,” Gerold said. “It may just incentivise him further. It is easier to keep him close where you can watch him and those who may support him than to send him away to move in secret.”

(Y/N) sighed, looking up at his cousin and taking in his expression. Defeated, he leaned back in his chair, “I cannot leave can I?”

“I cannot tell you what to do, (Y/N).”

“Just-” (Y/N) closed his eyes, frustrated with the entire situation. He longed for Rhaenyra, wishing to be there to see her through her pregnancy. “Just be honest, Gerold.”

“No, you cannot leave.”

(Y/N) nodded, reaching for a blank piece of parchment and his quill. “Thank you for your counsel, cousin. Tell Maester Pate I wish to send a raven to Kingslanding with my decision.”

Rhaenyra would have to understand, securing his position was for the good of their future family. Their second child will inherit Runestone after him, and (Y/N) would stay for as long as he needed to ensure that.

Rhaenyra’s labor had begun only hours after (Y/N) had set foot in Kingslanding. Viserys and Daemon had been thrilled at the news, but Rhaenyra’s fears of the birthing bed had not at all ebbed throughout the many moons of her pregnancy. (Y/N)’s absence from court during those moons had not helped her trepidation, but as the labors started (Y/N) assured her he would pick her over any babe.

(Y/N) was not allowed in the birthing room despite his protests, after a particularly rough scream tore itself from Rhaenyra’s throat (Y/N) had pulled his dagger on one of the guards, which subsequently caused his father to drag him even further away from the room.

His father and Ser Harwin were watching the young Lord of Runestone as Rhaenyra’s screams and curses echoed throughout the halls. Daemon was silent, wincing at his nieces wails every so often, while Harwin had taken to whispering words of comfort to (Y/N).

“She is strong.” Harwin said, hand resting softly yet reassuringly on (Y/N)’s shoulder.

“Cunt!” (Y/N) chuckled softly at Rhaenyra’s words, and Harwin smiled.

“See.” Harwin said, “She is doing well.”

Footsteps sounded down the hallway, (Y/N) looked over to see King Viserys and Queen Alicent approaching the group of men. Alicent was holding her own swollen stomach as she approached and (Y/N) was reminded that she too was soon headed toward the birthing bed once again. Alicent frowned at Harwin, and (Y/N) narrowed his eyes at the young queen.

“Ser Harwin,” Alicent addressed the knight, “Does Rhaenyra need her sworn protector-”

“I wished him to be here.” (Y/N) cut her off, and she looked at him, frowning.

“Of course.”

Viserys paid the three of them no mind, he looked exhausted. (Y/N) had heard from both Rhaenyra and Daemon about the king’s deteriorating health these past moons. The letter had given no justice to truly how bad Viserys looked, although he still insisted on acting as if he was alright.

“How is she?”

“Well,” (Y/N) replied, “I think. They would not let me in.”

Viserys gave him a sympathetic look, as the cry of a babe captured all of their attention. (Y/N) pushed himself quickly off the wall rushing into the room, Daemon and Viserys following closely behind him.

Rhaenyra lied in bed, face pale and covered in sweat, her normally perfectly styled hair was messy and sticking to her skin. She lifted her head at the sound of people entering the room, smiling and relaxing at the sight of her husband. The maester handed the babe, wrapped in a deep brown cloth, with a mop of dark curls peeking out, to (Y/N).

“A boy, your grace.”

(Y/N) stared silently at the babe, still crying although slowly but surely calming, (Y/N) looked up to Rhaenyra, who the midwife was attending to. He traced his son's features gently, fearful of hurting the precious bundle. He had not understood the fear his father spoke of until the babe had been placed into his arms, and he remembered that Daemon had been no older than he was now when (Y/N) was born.

“He’s perfect.”

Viserys and Daemon came up next to him, and (Y/N) remembered he was holding the future heir to the Iron Throne. He gently handed the babe to his uncle, and he smiled, allowing his brother to peer at their grandson over his shoulder. “What is his name?”

(Y/N) looked to Rhaenyra, “Whatever you wish.”

Viserys handed the babe off to Alicent, whose frown deepened. Daemon spoke before Rhaenyra, “He should have a name fit for a king.”

(Y/N) shot his father a dirty look, already knowing that his father was implying his son should not have a Vale-like name. “Rhaenyra labored to bring our son into this world, she shall pick whatever name she wishes.”

“Jacaerys.” Rhaenyra said, motioning for the babe to be brought to her. (Y/N) took the babe from Alicent, her expression making the Lord of Runestone uneasy. He handed him to Rhaenyra, pressing an affectionate kiss to the top of her head, and Rhaenyra laid down head resting on (Y/N)’s side. “His name will be Jacaerys Royce.”

Alicent did not linger around any longer than she needed to, exiting the room as soon as attention was on Rhaenyra. Viserys gave his daughter a kiss on the forehead before following after his wife. Daemon lingered the longest, looking adoringly at his grandson. (Y/N) had feared his father’s reaction to his son’s more Vale-like features, but Daemon did not seem to mind.

“Congratulations.” Daemon smiled, pressing a soft kiss to both of their cheeks before taking his own leave. “I will fetch someone to clean the sheets and help you dress.”

Rhaenyra nodded her thanks before the two new parents were left on their lonesome. Rhaenyra, wincing, sat up further, handing the bundle off to (Y/N). (Y/N) smiled down at Jacaerys, tensing when the babe opened his eyes, big and brown, but instead of breaking back into sobs he just stared up at his father. (Y/N) reached down, smiling softly as the babe grabbed his finger placing it in his mouth.

“I think he is hungry.” (Y/N) chuckled. “Shall I fetch a wet nurse?”

Rhaenyra nodded, and (Y/N) handed the babe back to her. He opened the door, looking at Ser Harwin who was still waiting outside the door.

“Would you like to meet him?”

“Him?” Harwin asked, and (Y/N) nodded.

“It is a boy.” (Y/N) smiled, “I am going to fetch a wetnurse, but I am sure Rhaenyra would be delighted to introduce him to you.”

As Harwin gingerly stepped into the room, (Y/N) tracked down a wetnurse. As he returned to the chambers, he took a seat by Harwin and Rhaenyra’s side as Jacaerys was handed off to the nurse. As soon as the nurse was out of earshot Rhaenyra turned to her husband.

“How long are you staying?”

(Y/N) frowned, “Nyra-”

“I will not beg you to stay, (Y/N). I know you will not.” Rhaenyra said.

“That is not fair. You know-”

“The complexities of politics are not lost on me, (Y/N).” She was obviously tired from her labors, but (Y/N) could tell he was not getting out of this conversation. “But what of our son? Will he grow up without you because you were too busy infighting with your cousin?”

“I am doing this for our son.”

Rhaenyra sighed, the fight going out of her at his comment. “Yes, I know- I just- I want Jace to grow up with a father.”

“He will.” (Y/N) promised. “But not until I am sure Gunthor will not undermine me at the first opportunity. I will return to you, I promise. And Harwin will be here watching over you both to make up for what I am missing.”

He turned to Harwin, who nodded a silent promise to the prince. (Y/N) took his hand in thanks.

“Did you see Alicent’s face when she held him?” Rhaenyra looked across the room longingly at where their son was now asleep in a cradle, the wetnurse long gone. “I am sure she is already spreading her poison.”

“Fuck Alicent.” (Y/N) spat, causing both Rhaenyra and Harwin to laugh. “She can spread whatever rumors she wishes, they will go nowhere. Our son is a Royce, he has Vale-blood, that fact alone will be enough to quell her whisperings.”

Harwin squeezed his hand in reassurance, bringing it up to press a soft kiss to its back. “I have missed you, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) smiled at the knight, before turning to his wife. “I do wish I could stay with you three.”

Rhaenyra reached for (Y/N). “We will pray for your success, ñuha jorrāelagon, and await your triumphiant return to us."

---

Translations -

Valzȳrys - Husband

Olvie jorrāelagon - Much love

Ñuha jorrāelagon - My love

#titles are so hard #like yes he's now lord royce of runestone but also he's still a prince? And then when Rhaenyra ascends the thorne he'd be king consort #god royals are complicated #leaving the idea of Jace Luke and Joff being bastards up to interpertation of the reader however I do have plans #x male reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x male reader #x reader #x y/n #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon x y/n #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x male reader #hotd x reader

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aliceinborderlandsquidgame · 2 months ago

Text

Bloody Letters | Banda Sunato x GN!Reader

Summary: Banda is in prision, you the only survivor of his killing are still being haunted by him in a simple way. Letters.

Warnings: Banda is a warning himself - Toxic!Relationship - Traumatic!Reader - Obsessive!Banda - Mentions of Gore and Mutilation - Mentions of sex - Reader gets called Bird - MDNI - +18 -

The first one came after he was arrested. It was only one week and yet he seemed to be missing you.

"Hello my Bird, each day in here its a torture I cant endure without you. Do you remember that week when I could not go out because the police was near our home? We had such a great time. I dont remember a place where I did not fuck you nice and full. The house never smelled better, sex and blood...the memory of it makes me hard while I write this. Why dont you send me some of these pics I took during that time? It would help me so much.

With devotion, your Banda"

You had pucked after it, wishing that by ignoring him he would let you alone. But you knew better.

At court you were called to testify against him. And you did, the horrors you had survived were showed to you once more. But you stood your ground. The most sickering thing was him. He looked proud of himslef after each relate of how he killed and dismemberment a victim was told, and when he looked at you. It was a look so confused, his eyes like an abyss of pure evil and possession.

You had to stay in your parents home after that day.

"My Dear Bird, you looked so stunning at court today. Are you eating well? I see you having lose some weight. But thats fine, we can work that up once im out of here.

I must say, I was quiet sad that you did not testify on my side. Didnt you say you loved me ? That we would be together till death ?

Maybe you forgot your place. Maybe your wings are growing again.

See you soon my bird"

"Bird.

Why are you not responding ? Do you know how hard its to get these letters out ?

Do you think you can go back to normal and escape me ? Im in your life now, I left part of me inside you multiple times. You cant just ignore that, or what ? Did you get a new partner? Bird no one would ever care for you like I did. We bathed together in the blood of that woman!! Do you remember ? You were crying so much and it was such a good thing to see..."

Each day you waited that they will stop coming. That whoever was allowing these letters out would have some compassion for you.

You could not sleep or eat. Each sound made you remember him and his tortures. The dark was once again your biggest fear, each shadow made you think it was him.

"My Dear Bird, sorry my last letters were too violent, I now see my mistake.

The therapist here says I should learn to control my impulses, how would he react if I told him i already imagined him dead by my knife ? Do you think he would react at all ?

You know I havent see it in so long. I miss it. Remember who I used it to ambush you that night ? I accidentally cut you, that was a real accident. I did not get to enjoy the moment. All the other ones....oh I did. The moments we shared are engraved in my mind forever now. Much like how my name its on your skin.

You havent remove it have you? I put so much effort on it...it would be a shame if you removed it.

Well I guess i will have to do it again then. We can do it as a part of our reunion.

With care, Banda"

The wait for his sentence was long. One more time, you had to see him one more time and then he would be gone of your life forever.

"My Bird.

Can you believe we will be seeing each other again ? We will soon reunite!!

I hope you smile more this time. You know I always loved that smile of yours....

You can cry too. It did things to me when you cried.

Have I mention how I keep dreaming of you? Its a shame I cant shove my dick inside you like I used to. You made the most delicious noises, specially when you were not fully awake and then when you did notice what whats happening...

Im getting hard just by thinking of it..."

"For the crimes the accused Banda Sunato has commitmet he is sentenced to death penalty with no chance for a appeal" The judge said and you felt like the world was off from you. You fell on the court's chair your family and Friends crying and hugging you. The family of the dead victims crying too.

But him. He was not crying. He was smiling that sick smile of his. His eyes pointed at you like a predator seeing his prey. For the first time you held his gaze and you saw how he did a move to try and come to you but was soon stopped by some guards.

"My Little Bird...

You were so beautiful at court today as well. And with your family no less, I have wanted to meet them for sometime now. What does they think of our relationship? Does they like me ? Does your father aprove of me ? I hope your mom cooks just as well as you used to. I cant wait to sit all together and tell them all the fantastic times we had together.

Where should I start ? The first night? The first time I took you ? When you saw me murder another person ? Maybe when you cooked their flesh ?-"

"Stop stop" You said covering your ears as your father read the letter with more and more ferocity.

"I will kill him myself" He said almost throwing the letter when a part catched his eyes. He went pale as he read it.

"What is it?" Your mom asked as she hugged you.

"I- I dont think-"

"Please Dad...what is it?" You begged now

"Dear Bird, do you know they grant a final wish for these whos sentence is death ? Besides a meal we get one final wish. And my wish was to see you once more, just you and me alone in a room. I hope the judge sees my love for you and gives me that final wish....I cant wait to smell you again-"

"No!!" Your mother screamed taking the letter from your father then throwing it. "He cant ask for it! I wont let them go, the judge wont- the judge wont aprove it" Your mother said between sobs.

But justice failed you and did grant Babda his final wish and even demanded that you must be present or pay a big amount of money.

The light blue room and too bright light was making your skin crawl back as you waited. You knew there were officers and your own parents behind the glass but that still did not ease your nerves.

Finally he came guided by another officer, he was chained, feet and hands. Once sat in front of you the guard made sure he could not move or reach you before leaving.

Banda smiled at you "Hello my Bird, did you get my letters ? You never wrote back" He asked a slight mocking tone on his side.

"I burned them. You are never going to hurt me again. You are dead Banda, after this you will be nothing" You said back trying to keep your voice steady and calm even if your fingers were thighten the edges of the chair.

This caused Banda' smile to slowly dissapear. His posture now tense, he was studying you. Like many times before.

"Do you really think this is the end? That I wont ever be part of you again? My Bird...we are mean to be together till the end. If its not by my hand then i can assure you. Fate will bring us together"

"You can go to hell Banda, and take that fate with you too. We are done" You got up giving him one last look before walking out of the room. Once outside you collapsed on your parents arms, the start of a panic attack coming.

"Its over Dear, its over"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Shibuya was always packed with people and while you were not really feeling that much need to go out, you knew you needed to take your life back.

The lights changed and you started to cross, lost in the music from your phone you failed to notice something from the sky...

Next thing you knew you were in the middle of the city but...it was empy. No noise, no cars, nothing. Fear went over your body as you checked your phone. Dead, no signal.

What...was this another episode ?

"Well, seems like fate does wants us together my Bird" The voice who owned your nightmares spooke from behind.

You turned and there he was, his smile back and blood dripping from his hand where now a knife stood.

"Oh dont look at me like that...you know I cant contain myself if you do" Banda said twisting the knife with expertise "five minutes, thats your head start"

Your heart fell as your legs started to tremble but you could not move. This was not possible. How could he be here...and where were the people ?

"Run little Bird, becuase once I catch you. You wont be moving for a long time..."

And so you ran knowing he never said these things without meaning them.

#alice in borderland #aib imagine #aib imagines #alice in borderland x reader #banda sunato x reader #aib x reader

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milswrites · 1 year ago

Text

Hobbies Part 5.

~Azriel X Reader~

Summary: In an attempt to keep Azriel away from Elain, Rhys sends him on a sabbatical to the Day Court. With a lot more free time on his hands Azriel needs to find something to keep him occupied. Unfortunately he meets Y/N who has the annoying habit of not staying away. Can she teach him that there’s more to life than he thought?

Grumpy!Azriel X Sunshine!Reader

Series masterlist

Warnings: Lots of fluff. Tiny bit of angst (I can’t even tell at this point). Very vague references to sex. Cliffhanger (Whoopsies)

Five hours later, once Azriel had planned out the date and bathed the sticky multicoloured icing from his skin, he had begun pacing his flat in anticipation of Y/N’s arrival. Shadows swirling around him, sensing their masters spiked anxiety. Should he have offered to pick her up from her own place? Does she even know this is a date? He had asked her to go out but he had never explicitly said the word date.

He was sweating profusely under the black dress shirt he had adorned for the occasion, glad he had one packed. Azriel had been with plenty of women over the years but taking one on a date? This would be the first.

It was only after she had left his flat that he realised he had never even given her a definite time to meet, just a vague promise of seeing her later. Azriel blames Y/N for this lack of communication, planting the kiss on his cheek and leaving him speechless.

So here had been for the last hour, moon now high in the sky, waiting for her to arrive. Having far too much time to overthink about everything that could go wrong. He had to stop himself from anxiously walking over to the mirror in his bathroom for a sixth time to make sure his hair was in place and question whether he should wear other clothes than all black, not wanting to look like death personified next to Y/N’s radiant self. No, he would stick with what he was comfortable with, Y/N wasn’t one to judge. That and Azriel didn’t own anything other than black clothes and he was sure if he ran to the shop now he would miss Y/N.

Finally, a soft knock at his door broke his pacing. His shadows all flew to the door whispering in excitement, waiting for it to be opened so they could be blessed by her presence. Straightening the collar of his shirt, Azriel took in a deep breath. He wasn’t going to let his fluctuating attitudes ruin tonight. He would allow himself to have fun.

He grabbed the handle of the door, looking up to the ceiling and praying to the Mother that tonight would run smoothly, and slowly pulled it open.

~~~~~

If Azriel was the personification of death, Y/N must have been that of life. As she stood there in his entryway, mouth slightly open as her eyes drifted over Azriel’s form, he couldn’t help but think that everything in his life just felt like it now made sense.

He looked from her dress, a soft pink which Azriel thought complimented her oh so beautifully, the entirety of which was patterned with hand embroidered flowers of a deeper shade of pink, and forced his gaze to move to her face where a nervous smile was resting.

“You look…wow” he finally spoke, gulping as he took in the sight of her. A rosy blush that matched her dress crossed her face, “Thank you. You clean up nicely too”. A matching tint formed on his own cheeks.

“So what’s the plan?” She asked curiously, looking up into his eyes which were still trailing the length of her body.

“Uh well I realised I don’t actually know anywhere nice to eat in this Court so I’ve kind of planned something else” Azriel tried to keep it vague, hoping to keep the true plan somewhat of a surprise.

“Sounds perfect! Lead the way!” She grinned, before stepping to the side to allow Azriel and his wings to fit through the doorway. Before he could even step out, his shadows rushed towards Y/N twirling around the skirt of her dress. Fearful that his shadows would scare her, Azriel went to angrily call them back. But he was stopped in his tracks by a melodic laugh slipping from her lips as she began to spin round with them as if they were dancing.

It was at this point Azriel made the decision to not stand there stunned like he usually does in situations where Y/N makes his heart pound and he doesn’t know what to do. Instead, trying to find some semblance of confidence, he reaches out to take Y/N’s hand which was outstretched for balance as she spun. He grabbed it in his own scarred one, and raised them together, allowing her to twirl underneath him, shadows in tow.

Their surroundings forgotten, this little dance continued for a few minutes, smiles on their faces as they were absorbed into the moment. Spinning and moving together fluidly. Wanting to feel her even closer, Azriel reached out his other hand hoping to come into contact with her waist, only to be interrupted by a squeak from the end of the corridor which caused him to draw his hand back.

His head snapped towards the sound, eyes viciously landing on the neighbour who earlier that day had witnessed him standing there in his frilly yellow apron. A low growl came from Azriel’s throat as the neighbour awkwardly rushed forward to pass them in the corridor, Y/N’s hand leaving his to make space for the neighbour to get past with a high pitched “sorry” coming from them as they sped round to the other stairway.

Azriel’s shadows had stopped dancing, electing to disappear during the awkward moment. The moment was gone much to Azriel’s disappointment, the embarrassment of being caught creeping up his spine was testament to that.

Noticing his red ears, Y/N placed a calming hand onto his chest, which of course made them even redder. “Come on! I’m excited to see what you’ve planned!” Of course Y/N wouldn’t be phased after being caught dancing in the corridor.

“Yeah” Azriel sighs, dejected. Annoyed at the lack of control he had over his body prior to being caught, and so when the pair walked out of the building he made sure to leave some space between them, not wanting to do anything else rash that would undoubtedly lead to further embarrassment.

~~~~~

Azriel led the way, walking towards the location of the date. He wanted to talk, but after what had transpired outside the flat he was afraid to and so he had to put up with walking in silence. Y/N clearly wasn’t bothered as she hummed happily, either having not noticed the arm length of space between them or choosing not to comment on it.

Azriel was kicking himself, he was on a date with a beautiful woman and he couldn’t bring himself to find the words to speak. He wished he had his brothers with him. Cassian would have prepared him for the date, he would have made sure his friend was filled with confidence and prepped lots of things for Azriel to talk about. Rhysand would have fussed over his clothing and given him tips on how to flirt, how to complement a woman and make her blush until her knees wobble.

Yet his family had abandoned him here. But now weeks later after the fact, Azriel couldn’t help but feel grateful for the events that had transpired otherwise he would have never met Y/N.

Y/N who was walking next to him, eyes full of love and admiration as if she was taking in the moonlit surroundings for the first time even though she undoubtably walked these streets daily as she headed to and from work.

On and on they walked, Y/N’s humming being the one thing that kept Azriel earthed, preventing him from freaking out and flying off in fear that he couldn’t do this right. Fear that he didn’t know how to act on a date. Until finally they approached the garden Azriel had found during one of his nightly flights around the city.

Azriel had originally landed in this hidden piece of paradise because he was searching for a little trace of Elain, a reminder of what he was missing out on from being away from home. Only once he had entered the gates to be greeted by garishly bright sunflowers his thoughts were only on Y/N.

He had spent hours walking around the garden on the first night he had discovered it, appreciating the hundreds of plants and flowers that grew inside of the gates. It was only after his third visit here during his nightly outings that he pictured Y/N here with him, walking along the trailing path, smiling up at him as she smelt the flowers, admiring their beauty as he admired her. It only made sense to Azriel that he had to bring her here. See if Y/N reacted to it in the same way she did in his dreams.

Her reaction did not disappoint. Azriel held open the gate for her, allowing Y/N to enter with a gasp upon her lips.

“Oh Azriel it’s beautiful! However did you find this?” Y/N was whispering, her awe at where she was overwhelming. Azriel silently watched on as tears filled her eyes, trying to cement this moment into his mind forever. Y/N in her pretty pink dress, standing in the garden.

It was only after he was certain the picture of Y/N, surrounded by flowers as beautiful as she was, was permanently fixed into his brain did Azriel then allow himself to talk. “There’s more” Azriel too spoke in a quiet whisper, afraid of interrupting the perfect moment that was occurring.

Y/N’s eyes which were filled with an emotion Azriel couldn’t place, looked to his expectantly. Gently, Azriel placed his scarred hand onto her back and led her through the garden, allowing her to stop whenever she wanted to appreciate a flower she found particularly beautiful. Until finally the plants broke away, revealing a clearing in the middle of the garden where Azriel had set up a blanket, jars of faelight holding it down and twinkling under the light of the moon. A wicker basket was placed on top, filled with goods he had bought from the market earlier in the day.

“Oh Azriel!” Y/N cried out, taking a step towards the picnic. His hand moved from the small of her back, tentatively grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the blanket to sit down.

“I know it’s not fancy, I should have probably taken you for a meal out. And don’t worry I didn’t do any of the baking, wouldn’t want to poison you again.”

Y/N didn’t even laugh at Azriel’s joke, she just threw herself over the basket on the ground and latched her arms around his neck, pulling him in tightly for a hug. It took three deep breaths before Azriel responded, wrapping one arm around Y/N’s body which was pressed against his, whilst using the other hand to brush the hair that had fallen from behind her ear back.

She pulled away, wincing in pain from the basket that had been digging into her stomach. “It couldn’t be more perfect Az” she smiled, resting her hand over his.

The two ate the food Azriel had bought, making light conversation about the garden they were sitting in and the food they were consuming. Until finally, stomachs full, they both laid back onto the blanket in order to gaze at the stars shining above them.

“What’s it like? In the night Court I mean” Y/N shyly asked, as if afraid of talking about the spymasters home might set him off.

Azriel felt no spike of anger as she mentioned his home court. In fact he didn’t even feel the painful longing he usually did at the thought of it, wanting to be nowhere else but in the present with Y/N.

“It depends where you are. The Illyrian camps are no paradise. But there’s some places…a city that is so magnificent it still takes my breath away every time I see it. That’s where I live. Sometimes I spend hours flying above it and no matter how many times I do I always see something new.” Azriel said whilst closing his eyes, allowing himself to picture it.

“Ah Velaris, the secret city,” Y/N teased, causing Azriel’s eyes to snap open as he sat up and looked at her in shock, “Helion’s a talker” she shrugged as if it was common knowledge.

Azriel laughed and settled back down, head resting onto his hands behind his head, gaze once more returning to the stars. “I’ll take you one day” he confirmed, wanting nothing more than to share his home with Y/N.

He didn’t have to look at her to know she was smiling as she replied, “I’d like that.”

“Maybe you could make a dress just for the Night Court” Azriel mused, imagining what Y/N would look like in all black before deciding he wasn’t sure if he would want to see her with her colour taken away.

“I’d make you a matching tunic so we could wear them together, only I’m not too sure how to make clothes for Illyrains.” Y/N brushed his wing lightly with a finger as she said this, causing Azriel to stiffen as they twitched responsively.

Obviously he didn’t expect Y/N to know about the sensitivity of an Illyrians wings so he did his best to calm himself, nervously stuttering, “yeah the wings are really something.”

“It must be the best feeling ever, flying.” She said wistfully, staring at the night sky as if imagining she was up there. “I can think of some better feelings…but yeah it’s definitely up there” Azriel spoke, turning his head to admire Y/N. The moonlight making her skin shimmer.

“If I were born with wings I’d travel the whole world. I would see everything Prythian has to offer.”

Azriel wanted to burst her bubble, tell her most of Prythian wasn’t even worth visiting. Yet he held his tongue, not wanting to dampen her dreams. Instead he encouraged them, “where would you fly to first?”

“To Velaris,” she said, finally turning her head to meet his eyes, “I’d have to pick you up first before we go.” Her hand creeped over to Azriel’s which was laying on the blanket before entwining their fingers. “I have a big wingspan, what makes you think you’d be able to keep up?” Azriel warned, smirk on his face. “I think you’d wait for me” Y/N said knowingly, matching smirk on hers. “I’d wait forever for you if I had to” Azriel squeezed her hand as he said this.

“Just you and me and the whole world to explore. Sounds like a good dream.” Y/N smiled sadly, no doubt referring to the fact she didn’t have wings like Azriel’s and reminding him their planning was all based on fiction.

Adamant he didn’t want to see her sad, Azriel shot up onto his feet, hand held out to Y/N to pull her up, “Come on!” He ordered.

Y/N sat up on the blanket, eyebrows creased in confusion, “What?”

“Come on!” He pressed, pushing his outstretched arm even closer to her impatiently, “We’re going flying.”

Y/N released a sound of disbelief, grabbing onto his hand and jumping up from the ground excitedly, “Brilliant! So how do we do this?” She asked, referring to how she would be carried.

Azriel’s eyes widened slightly, “uh well it would probably be easier if I just…” and with that he grabbed her and swept her into his arms, one going behind her back for support and the other holding up her legs.

Giggling in anticipation for the flight, Y/N once more ran her fingers down Azriel’s wings in admiration as he spread them wide and shook them ready for flight. He flinched abruptly, almost dropping her in shock before he stuttered, “It’s probably best you stop touching them or I don’t think we’ll ever get round to flying.”

This time instead of just her cheeks flaring red, her entire face flushed, clearly now understanding the implications of touching an Illyrians wings. Finding himself liking her response, Azriel bravely sent her a wink before shooting into the sky. Y/N’s arms flying around his neck and face pressing into his shoulder with a squeal at the speed he had launched from.

Azriel steadied out once high enough in the air, but Y/N still kept her face tucked into his neck in fear. “You can look now” he teased, urging her to lift her head but all he felt was the firm shaking of it against his shoulder so he continued, “We can’t go flying the world together if you won’t look at it? You won’t see much like this.”

That got her attention, Y/N’s head raising, but her eyes didn’t take in the view. Instead they found their home on Azriel’s face. “But I don’t have wings” she pouted up at him.

“But I do” he said with a laugh, batting his wings a little harder so they blew her hair into her face playfully.

“You mean it?” She asked in disbelief that he’d be willing to carry her just so she could see the world.

“Only if you take a look” he whispered into her ear, daring her to break eye contact and take in the view. And so she did and Azriel couldn’t have been more in love than he was in that moment.

Y/N beamed as she looked down on the city. “Look you can see the palace!” She pointed out the large building that towered over the rest of the city, “and my house! This is amazing!”

Azriel didn’t move his gaze to take in any of the sites, instead it stayed locked on Y/N as he replied, “yeah it is.”

“I’m going to want you to fly my everywhere!” She cheered excitedly.

“Wherever you need” Azriel replied, taking his focus off of where he was flying so he could rest his head against hers while she sat happily in his arms, “I would never put you down if you asked me not to.”

Azriel could see the struggle it took for Y/N to pull her eyes from the stunning sight of the twinkling city at night but she managed to, turning to Azriel and shifting slightly in his arms to face him better.

“And if I asked you to hold me forever?”

“Then nothing, no one, would stop me from holding you until the day the Mother takes me.”

Y/N released a small strangled cry at Azriel’s words before she leaned forward in his arms to softly place her lips onto his. Responsive, Azriel meets her halfway, their lips moving together in a passionate dance. Y/N went to deepen the kiss, drawing her tongue languidly against Azriel’s lower lip and in his surprise at her need to take control he completely forgot the two were in the air, relying on the beat of his wings to keep them afloat.

And so they fell.

Y/N releasing a scream as their lips tore apart and Azriel struggled to regain his grip on her flailing body as he turned his attention back to flying. Once she was secure in his arms one more he spread his wings out wide to level out, stopping their freefall.

Y/N panting slightly as her adrenaline at being dropped slowly evaporated, bravely placed her lips near Azriel’s until they brushed before pulling away as he eagerly tried to meet them once more. She shakily spoke against them “I think we’re going to need a rule about kissing while flying.”

Barking out a laugh, Azriel agreed before asking her which direction her home was in. He held her even tighter as he flew in the direction Y/N had pointed in, not wanting to permanently scar her so she never wanted to fly with him again.

He landed as gentle as he could, pulling her closer against him to make her feel safer as he did so, before he carefully placed her back onto the ground, a large hand around her back to ensure she didn’t stumble as she regained her footing.

“I think it’s safe to say this has been the best birthday I’ve ever had.” She grinned up at him, her hand finding his once more.

Azriel opened his mouth to reply but was interjected by one of his shadows moving up to frantically whisper in his ear, causing a frown to adorn his face. In her euphoria Y/N failed to notice this, instead she led him by their interlocked hands towards her front door.

“Would you like to come in?” She asked, dropping his hand to unlock the door. He cursed under his breath at the untimely appearance of his shadow. “I’d love to really but I’m sorry, I best go home. It’s getting late after all” he had to force the words out, throat closing tightly to try and stop him from saying them.

Y/N’s smile stayed on her face, Azriel knew if she was disappointed she wouldn’t let it show.

“That’s alright”, she said perhaps a bit too overly happy, “you’re right it’s late. Besides, I have something fun planned for us tomorrow, I should get that ready.” Azriel released the breath he didn’t know he was holding at the fact she wanted to meet him tomorrow, Y/N mustn’t be too hurt.

“Oh yeah”, he smiled back at her, batting away the shadow that was still whispering in his ear, “what fun things have you got planned?”

“That’s for you to discover tomorrow” she chided before her lips came to meet his once more. Azriel kissed her back, deeply breathing in her vanilla scent and gripping her waist tightly to avoid his hands wandering elsewhere. His shadow, annoyingly still chittering away into his ear, causing him to reluctantly pull back from the kiss.

“Tomorrow” he huffed, disappointed he had to leave and couldn’t come inside as he wished.

“Tomorrow” she confirmed before retreating into her house for the night.

~~~~~

Azriel was growling the whole flight home. His perfect night had been interrupted, he tried to brush away the thoughts of what could have happened if he had entered the house with Y/N. Best not to dwell on what he couldn’t have. He had tomorrow to make up for that.

Roughly landing outside his flat he stormed through the buildings corridor, where he had danced with Y/N, to his door, flinging it open in anger and stepping inside.

His shadows alerting him to the presence in the corner of the room.

“Hello brother,” Rhysand purred, “ready to go home?”

Part 6

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: (oh my there’s so many of you now! Thank you guys for all your continued support xx)

@minnieoo @thelov3lybookworm @going-through-shit @iluvyewman-blog @laughterafter @amysangel @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @justvibbinghere @honeybeeboobaa @willowpains @tele86 @mysticalfuncollectorus @mybestfriendmademe @starryhiraeth @gorlillaglue25 @moonlwghts @darling006 @anuttellaa @serendipityx150 @xxxalicerogersxx @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @naturakaashi @nyx-the-alien @lostinpages13 @namelesssav @dreamlandreader @fightmedraco @maxmouse001

(If I’ve missed any of you off I’m so sorry please let me know)

#acotar #fanfic #azriel x reader #acotar imagine #azriel imagine #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #azriel oneshot #azriel #azriel shadowsinger

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the-midnight-blooms · 9 months ago

Text

all i wanna do | jyh

pairing: scholar!jeong yunho x wife!reader AU: arranged marriage, historical au (Joseon dynasty) word count: 11.4k warnings: heavy angst, suicidal thoughts, mentions of suicide

masterlist

The rain thundered down from the sky on a sullen morning, the clutter of dishes and whirring of teapots stirring one awake from their slumber. At once the household was buzzing with activity, the slap of sandals against the cool marble floor as a weary middle-aged man retreated to the dining table. On one end, the seat at the top of the table reserved for him, sat his boiling cup of tea and newspaper, his wife soon trailing in after him. Afterwards was his daughter, and they all greeted each other with polite “good mornings” before settling down to eat, a comfortable silence held among them.

Mr Hwang, a renown land owner found that when he left his home, he was able to find a line of servants bowing their heads to him in respect. He was, by any means no aristocrat and did not preach claims of nobility but his knowledge of literature, politics and art had allowed him to extend his name into upper class society. He was proud to claim that his name lingered on the tongues of scholars, dukes and the general along with other important men in the militia. Such men were seen as gifted in society, how could it be that a poor man who had never had the privilege of receiving satisfactory education proved to be more astute than any scholar of Joseon. It was down to sheer luck, and god, he thought that he was able to claim a reputation such as the one he now held.

About three months ago, on a Wednesday evening, Mr Hwang kissed his wife goodbye- leaving his home to travel four miles east to the large estate on a hill that he had been invited to. Every Wednesday, scholars from nearby towns had gathered to invest in the latest literature and scribble their thoughts in the margins of transcripts that had been thrown their way. They were settled within the library- men walking up and down the aisles searching for novels of interest some men sipping on cups of tea. Around three hours in, the ripple of quiet murmuring would transcend into loud chatter. Like clockwork, on that Wednesday evening, Mr Hwang settled down his quill cracking his fingers to relax the tense fibres in his muscles. He sat opposite the esteemed Mr Jeong, a loyal civil servant to the King and a member of the Royal Council.

Despite the ongoing of chatter surrounding them, the two men worked on their studies with minimal conversation. Mr Jeong was the first to break the silence.

“How is your wife and daughter, Hwang?”

“They are in good health, sir. How is your son? How is he finding his duties as a gentry scholar?” Jeong beamed at the mention of his son’s position within the royal court.

“He is too in good health. The prince informs me that he performs his duties excellently.” Hwang nodded, sending a polite smile his way before raising the cup of tea to his lips. A comfortable silence held among them but a thought provoked at the back of Jeong’s mind. “Actually, I am looking for a bride for my son as he is now of marriageable age.”

“That you should have no problem seeking, Sir. He is an impressionable young man, is he not?” Whilst Jeong felt implied to agree with his friend, there was more to his son than meets the eye. Yet for what he wanted to confess, it was better to stay quiet and agree to Hwang.

“I think I had better be open to you, my friend. I was hoping to ask if you would so kind to extend your daughter’s hand in marriage, for my son.” Hwang, taken aback almost choked on his tea for a split second quickly placing his cup down giving his friend a wide-eyed stare. A surge of emotions overcame him. Jeong was not the type of man to joke about serious matters such as marriage.

“My daughter? Wedded to your son? With all due respec-,”

“I understand that this is no conventional way to propose but you know better that I am not a man of custom. I have met your daughter. She is patient, kind and intelligent too. It seems that you have shared the gift of knowledge with her and my son does not want a wife that he cannot converse with. He is not asking for scholar but an understanding woman as such. I believe your daughter would make the perfect wife.” Jeong reasoned. The truth being there were many intelligible women in Joseon but the problem being they were either haughty or impatient. Either too vain about their looks or just purely selfish.

“If you allow me, I must discuss these details with her mother.”

“Of course, take your time. We are in no rush.” Which wasn't by any means true, but he could not exactly tell his friend to hurry up and make an on-the-spot decision.

That same Wednesday evening, Mr Hwang rushed back to his home as fast as he could running through the double doors- panting and out of breath. Without pausing to sit to down and breathe, the words spilled out of his mouth without caution astounding his wife in the process. Breaking from her momentary paralysis, she escorted her husband to the nearest chair-summoning the closest maid for a cup of tea to be brought to the study.

"We have to say yes, you must send Jeong a formal letter of proposal." Hwang nodded eagerly. Mrs Hwang thought about her daughter and what she would think. She would say no, of course.

Mr Hwang was not as ignorant as his friend thought he was. He had his eyes and ears everywhere- he knew his son's true nature. Perhaps if he was a better father, he would have declined the offer as soon as the words left from his mouth. After all wasn't this marriage an opportunity to extend his lineage into nobility? He could be richer, more reputable, more well known. How could he decline this offer?

"Begin the preparations, but do not tell her. Not yet." Reluctantly, his wife nodded.

Miss Hwang, daughter of Mr Hwang- the noble landowner, knew something was being plotted behind her back. She spent the last three months in and out of the dressmaker's, her measurements being taken for hanbok's of every colour, in silk, satin and in every other expensive material she could think off. A plethora of jewellery and fabrics were being sent to the house and as the months went by the atmosphere of the household became much more busier and chaotic. It brought her much annoyance that she wasn't able to find out- she even tried to provoke Min Cha but the youngest maid was not prone to bribery. She stared at her father at the top of the dining table, as his eyes scoured down the page of the newspaper reading the contents of the latest news in Joseon. Clearing his throat, he meticulously folded the paper discarding it to the side before making eye contact with his daughter.

"Minister Jeong and his son, Yunho will be joining us tonight for dinner. Make sure you are here and not hiding in your room" he instructed, giving her a pointed look before lifting his tea cup. A sudden thought rushed to her head. It could only make sense that perhaps they were coming over to propose. The gifts being sent at the house, the fancier clothes she was forced to wear, the hushed whispers of the maids as she walked by and their talks of marriage and children. They never bothered before, they knew how indifferent she was towards the notion of it. It could only mean that they were coming over to propose, or maybe they already had- besides she didn’t need to say yes, herself. Her father could on her behalf and it could be perceived as her approval. That was a thought she did not want to entertain, being a woman devoid of many choices was hard enough. If she could have a chance of falling in love and being loved as deeply and constantly the way that one wanted to be loved- she would grab at it. Though grabbing at it was like reaching out for a feather, its fibrils caress her fingertips only for it to slip through her fingers.

A few hours after the breakfast table had been cleared, the bustling sound inside the house had significantly quietened, doors to the kitchen quarters had been slammed shut so no sound seeped into the rest of the home. Warmth trailed the surface of the study, perched on the windowsill, head leant against the glass pane she gazed at the town below outstretched beneath the three miles of grasslands- a small cobbly path paving the way for carriages and palanquins. A creak infiltrated the room, her head snapping the other way watching a small figure stumble into the room and an older maid following after her. Tea settled down on the table, the maid scurried to the fireplace continuing her cleaning duties whereas Min Cha sat beside her on the window sill. Her hands reached to caress the younger girls face, pulling her towards her-nuzzling her in her arms. With a comforting quietude held among them, in the far distance the swaying of carriage treaded towards their home.

"Do you think that's Mr Jeong and his son?" Miss Hwang hummed carefully, fingers stroking Min Cha's dark hair. They watched the carriage come to a sudden halt outside their home; several moments later an older man walked out. The servants ran towards him, offering their greetings. After him, a taller man appeared out of the carriage, moving eloquently across the lawn. His dark hair was strikingly shorter than most young men of the common day and age, his brown wide eyes scanning his surroundings. Their eyes locked, he tilted his head slightly as if scrutinising her. Jumping away from the windowsill, she pried Min Cha off with her scurrying away to her room- to hide- exactly like her father told her not to.

Yunho noticed her eyes first. He felt like he was staring into his own when he discerned they were that they were burdening with inquisition, the length of her lashes softening a look that could have been perceived as threatening. It was her, wasn't it? She’ll make do he thought- there had to be reason for his father’s persistency. He was perfectly satisfied with being unmarried but then again his father probably wanted a grandson to carry the lineage, the establishment of this matrimony purely founded on both his father’s and Mr Hwang’s pride. For now he needed to refrain from looking ignorant for the next few weeks. Granted, he was stuck with her for life but as long as she knew her place he’d make do with her presence. They had moved to Mr Hwang's study where they had been seated around the fireplace, the cold winter air still clung to their skin, the heat of the spitting embers easing the chill that ran down their spines. His ears became heedless to the conversation the two older men shared, moulding his face to look interested with the occasional vocalisation to please his father's friend.

"I must finally introduce you to my daughter," Hwang cheered, clasping his hands together in enjoyment. Yunho forced a smile onto his face, preparing himself to meet yet another bratty daughter of a rich man. Calling for the maid, Hwang then proposed that he made his way into the garden to share a private interaction with each other.

Miss Hwang let out a small whine, shoulders slumped with an exaggerated frown etched on her features as she ambled down the steps and moved into the front lawn. Letting out a sigh of exasperation, she straightened her posture entering the garden with a sheepish smile. He was much taller than she had anticipated in the glimpse of their eye contact, the closer she moved the more intimidated she felt by his slender, towering figure. Though his features were soft and inviting, his wide eyes particularly held such a kindness in them that she had not seen in the eyes of other men. She wanted to speak in that moment, but neither of them had any idea what to say. Instead, she decided to saunter through the garden; Yunho following her. Yunho cleared his throat, her attention drifted from the garden flowers to him-she turned around to stand in front of him his movements halting as he sent a look of confusion her way.

"Why exactly are you here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what I asked. What is the purpose of your visit? What are your intentions? What do you and your father intend to gain from your being here?" He cocked his head to side, and scoffed at her questions yet the look of seriousness on her face had thrown him off. He was half expecting to start the conversation flaunting about something, talk about her riches, or maybe even throw herself at him. Not question the nature of this visit, was Mr Hwang detaining the knowledge this arrangement from his daughter? If so, why?

"You are to be my betrothed." He stated, though it came out as more of a question as her eyebrows creased in scepticism. "Which I thought you would've known as you accepted the proposal-" she ran back in the direction of the home, abandoning him by burgundy dahlias. All the pieces had fallen into place now, it was dowry that was being sent to the house, all the preparations were for her matrimony. How could she have missed all of this? Storming into the study, the door banged open the abrupt dissonance making her father jump from his seat; Jeong raising an eyebrow in inquisition.

"Father, can I talk to you?" Her voice both breathless and desperate for answers. Before he could speak, she exchanged her position with Jeong- who the nearby maid had guided into the parlour. “Why have you been hiding this proposal from me?” Silence hung among them, as she glared into his eyes.

“Do you think if many months ago I approached you with this proposal you would have said yes? You would’ve spat in my face. This is for your own benefit. Did you even talk to Yunho? What must he think of you?”

“Who cares what he thinks of me? What I care about is how you’ve tried to dictate my life for me.”

“Everything I am doing is for your own benefit” There it was. That same old phrase. The same phrase that she had heard when her father pulled her out libraries and schools, pulled away from the fields and forced her into passivity and domesticity. She had gotten gone used to it finding partial amusement in embroidering, cooking, drawing while occasionally reading the odd novel but there was no satisfaction in a life where she only existed for the sole purpose of serving a man. Her whole life she listened and obeyed, her only desire being to at least choose who she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Now she couldn’t even have that- her only last grasp for autonomy was being snatched away from her.

“You will tell Mr Jeong that we cannot move forward with this marriage, or I will tell him myself." She claimed threateningly, her hands balled into fists.

"No, I will not. You will marry Yunho and that is that! Do you understand me? Your wedding is in two weeks so I suggest you start preparing for your departure."

"You planned all of this, and didn't once think to ask for my consultation?" With wide eyes in disbelief at the fact that she only had two weeks left in her childhood home before her name was tied to someone else’s.

"What does your opinion matter? I am your father, I know what's best for you." He moved closer to her, she winced as the tone of his voice rose, at this point it was better to think about what the Jeong family thought of him rather than her.

"No. You know what's best for yourself. You have always prioritised yourself over your own daughter and wife. You have never cared for me. It always what Byungchul Hwang has wanted and never-" his palm connected with her cheek, the slap sending a stinging pain through the supple flesh. His coarse grip latched onto her shoulders shaking them roughly; her body oscillating as he screamed at her many of the words sprinting through her head, the echo of his strident tone ringing in her ears, vision clouding as the line of tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. Something along the lines of 'ungrateful child', 'worthless', 'wretched' and any other invective he forced upon her. Nothing she hadn’t heard before. What was hearing them once more, before she succumbed to his despotism?

She could not recall how long he had endlessly been screaming at her, until her mother had stormed into the room calming her father, before sending her to her own room. The hallways of her childhood home seemed to restrict her now, the windows had been tightly sealed shut due to the wind- they seemed make the whole house feel smaller. Closed doors felt like shackles binding to her feet, restraining her. Her room was no solace, not anymore as she collapsed onto her bed a familiar numbness gnawing at her.

The two weeks had skimmed by faster than she would have hoped, the duration of them spent packing away the contents of her room into boxes. She dismissed the help of the servants wanting to savour the last parts of her childhood alone, structurally moving from one side of the room to the other. In the end there were many things that she had to throw away, keeping only the items closest to her heart. Min Cha informed her that Mrs Hwang told the Jeong family that his fiancée could not attend the dinner due to “feminine problems” to which this made both of their cheeks flush red. They shared a laugh, a genuine smile that bled into sadness soon after as it dawned on her that she wouldn’t share many more laughs with Min Cha for a long time. On her last evening at the home, she kissed the younger one before dismissing her for the rest of the night holding her a little longer, and a little tighter than she usually would have.

The creak of the wooden door, hauled at her attention head snapping up from the suitcase as her mother treaded into the room, steady but with graceful steps. She could never be as regal as her mother, she never understood how her mother maintained such a façade even after so many years of suffering from social abuse. How did one not break?

“Would you like some help dear?” Shaking her head, her hands glided over the clothes methodically stacking them one on top of the other. “I never thought the day would come, and so soon at that.” She sensed a smile on her mother’s lips, her awkwardly joyful tone striking a nerve.

“It wouldn’t have come so soon if you didn’t leave me with much of a choice.” Miss Hwang scoffed, avoiding her mother’s gaze as she continued packing her clothes into her bags. Am I ungrateful for thinking that I want a love that never dies?

“My love-,”

She shook her head furiously, pausing the words that came out of her mother's mouth. Of course she knew that her whole life she wouldn’t be allowed to have a say in her father’s decisions. She knew that eventually she’d be pawned off to the richest man that asked for hand but for a long time those were thoughts that were yet to become real. Tomorrow she’d be married off to Jeong Yunho, the minister’s son and be nothing but his trophy wife. The bearer of his children and an extension of his property. A pretty macabre way to perceive the situation that she was put in but she didn’t see any other way going about it.

“Today I am your daughter, tomorrow I will be just an object-not even worthy of being called a woman. What is a woman anyway, mother? A commodity, right? A baggage to be passed from one man to another?” She pondered as her mother gasped, tears rushing to the front of her eyes. How could her daughter have the courage to say that to her? “Don't look at me like that mother, you never once fought for me.” She bent down to knees, arms extending to grab the number of boxes that she kept beneath her bed. Her own tears pooled at her eyes. Attempting to keep them at bay, she remained on the floor sifting through boxes of jewellery, letters, books composing them into piles of what she did and did not need. She would give them all to Min Cha, with the exception of her a few sets of her mother’s pearls and diamonds. After several minutes, Mrs Hwang left from the room, she released a painful sigh. When the sun sunk beneath the horizon paving the way for the moon to rise upon the night, she had finally finished packing all of her belongings leaving them by her bedroom door for the butler to pick up and take downstairs in the morning. Glaring at the green hanbok draped on the dressing table stool, placed there by one of the maids- unbeknownst to her- she rested her head down on the silk pillow. Pulling the comforter over her eyes she shut her eyes, wishing and praying this was all a long and horrible dream.

A horrible dream it was not, she was rudely awakened from her peaceful slumber. Washed and dressed into a traditional green hanbok, hair brushed back and combed held into place by a bejewelled headpiece. The maids had painted red dots on her cheeks symbolising her youth but to also "ward off evil spirits" as the elders claimed. They left in her own room for a while, as they patiently awaited for the groom's family to arrive. The oldest maid appeared at her side, stroking her hair gently with an abating smile that even her mother failed to provide for her.

“I don’t know how to be a daughter and he’s expecting to be someone’s wife.” Her whisper transcended through Ji Hye's soul, a cry so quiet as if she was hanging onto the edge of an abandoned precipice with nothing but the rush of a hollow sea waiting to invite her death.

“Marriage is all about compromise, dear. Love him the way you want to be loved, men don’t know anything about affection- they need to be led the way. Hold his hands and promise you’ll be a devoted wife. He’ll hold yours and protect you with his life,”

Before she knew it the entire wedding ceremony had come to a close, she couldn't remember anything much other than staring into Yunho's eyes, his face hidden behind a fan as he entered their garden. It was tradition for grooms to give their brides a wild goose during the wedding ceremony, the flapping of its wings as it entered her father's arms provided her with temporary amusement. She remembered the exchange of their vows, formalising their union over a cup of wine. The few guests had eaten their food, blessing the newlyweds with nothing but happiness and prosperity in their marriage.

Entering the palanquin, she jerked at the white curtains before the bearers could, avoiding her mother's eyes through the translucent fabric. Maybe she was just being dramatic and unnecessary, but still it hurt to be used as a tool to extend the Hwang name into nobility. Not to mention Yunho had barely spared her a single glance other than when he was forced to play the role of a loving husband in front of their relatives. Leaning her head against the palanquin, exhaustion dominated her; she gave into her body’s demands to sleep.

“Ahem” a low grumble had stirred her awake from her slumber, an obnoxious yawn almost startling the servant who had been instructed to awake her. Rubbing her eyes, she stepped out of the palanquin the air burning her warm skin.

Two large black wooden gates opened to reveal the Hanok poised at the centre. It was not the largest house she'd seen a noble have but it was certainly a beauty with its glistening purple glazed tiles that decorated the curved roof and the dark brown walls of timber that structured around the home. A small set of stairs led to the porch revealing the salmun, a door made of wood panels and thick paper, allowing them entrance into the home, the path there littered with greenery that she made note to water every morning. Lifting the fabric of her hanbok she treaded up the stairs lingering by the porch as both her father-in-law and Yunho welcomed the servants to place the luggage in the front yard.

“I’ll have the maids take the rest in.” Yunho reassured his father, stood by the doorway with a questioning look of their presence, or rather absence. With a warm smile, Jeong laid a comforting hand on his daughter-in-laws shoulder.

“I’ve left this home in your hands, my dear. Yet should you need anything- I’m only one letter away.” His words held more tenderness than what was in her father’s being alone. He soon dispersed from the estate. With ease, Yunho grabbed hold of the luggage, sliding the door open to disappear into a corner of the home within seconds. All without a single word. Hastily, she followed after him; the interior of the home was almost empty, the translucency of each door feigned an impression of massiveness. She learned quickly that there were in fact no maids in the home, so then why did he lie to his father? Did Mr Jeong not know that Yunho kept no servants in his home? Not even as much as one maid?

There was little to no furniture, as she peeked her around the living space, the dining room, then she found herself wandering near a bedroom adjacent to a study and washroom.

“These are my quarters. Follow me, I’ll show you to yours.” His glacial tone had startled her, she felt her veins pulsating as blood sped through her body like scarlet rivers. Trailing after him, she noticed that the further they moved in, the colder it was wrapping her arms around her shoulders to keep her warm. The hallways seemed to be narrower in this part of the home too. Her quarters were similar to that of his with the rooms the same size and similarly furnished except in the far corner of the room there was a dressing table with a small stool. Adjacent was a washing room, however to compensate for the missing study there was a door that led to a porch extending straight to the garden. With her luggage held at the foot of the bed, her peripheral vision caught Yunho loitering by the door fiddling with his fingers as if he was unsure of what to do with himself.

“I thought we were supposed to be staying in the same room.”

“I like my own space.” She nodded in agreement. Unsure of what to do, she reached for his hands to place in her own as Ji Hye had advised her to do. Hold his hands and promise you’ll be a devoted wife. Yunho looked down at her in confusion.

“I promise I won’t let you down, I'll be a devot-."

"Dear god, stop this absurdity." Roughly, he shoved her hands away from him, "Stop this foolish act." The coarseness of his words stunned her, an uncomfortable warmth spreading across her cheeks as she looked down at her feet in embarrassment wanting nothing more than the ground to engulf her and take her six feet under. "Here's my promise. Do not expect me to be a doting husband and kiss you goodnight. This marriage is at the expense of both our parents. You’re nothing but a baggage to me, weighing me down.” He snarled, bitterness hanging heavy on his tongue. "Oh and stay out of sight- I can’t stand looking at you.” He grimaced at her appearance before stalking off in the other direction, leaving her alone in the desolate hallway. What great sin must she have committed for her to be have been cursed with a man like him? Barely even a day into their marriage and he was abandoning her as one did to a wounded animal in a slum. A sharp pang penetrated her heart as she slumped down on the bed. Tucking in her knees she bit her lips refusing to let out a sob. The worst was yet to come so it was futile crying now, she’d save her tears for when he had finally deconstructed her will to live as of now if she obeyed his rules she could survive.

As expected of her, she stayed out of sight and adhered to every command. Every morning she woke up at dawn rushing to the kitchen sweating over steaming soup, chopping vegetables as fast as she could before he woke up. The simultaneous roaring of the boiling pots of rice and whistling of the kettle often made her panic, the halls becoming used to her running down it as she frantically organised the table. The last few times she was late to set the table, she was subjugated to his yelling. He did not even end up eating the food in the end, surging out of the house in anger, speeding after him she tried to reason with him but Yunho left the front gate too soon and there was no point in causing a further commotion.

Not long ago her mother had sent a parcel to the house: a gorgeous traditional dress made from chiffon and silk, with an abundance of letters. A short note from her father, a page from her mother, and about three lengthy sheets from Min Cha updating her on all of the missed gossip of the town. Yet the final line of the letter had made her stop in her path as she strolled across the garden. 'How is your husband? Does he make you happy?'

'He is in great health. Yes, he makes me happy. As happy as the sun makes the earth when it arises from the suffocating dark.'

She wore the dress to one of the dinners that Yunho had been invited to by his good friend, and fellow scholar, Kim Hongjoong and his wife. For the first time in a long time when she looked in the mirror, she was complacent with her appearance the dress accentuating her figure in all the right places- she even wore a ribbon as she tied up her braid. Patiently, Yunho stood by the entrance of their home. Mrs Jeong walked up to him; on observing her presence he did not care to give her second look guiding her out of their home and down the village to Hongjoong's estate. Her esteem had dropped a little, she would’ve taken so much as a glance her way though he wasn’t obligated to give her even that much. Additionally, it hurt that many of the wives, at the party, had their husbands fixed to their sides while Yunho seemed to never be present. Even when the husbands had formed a congregation, some of them would glance affectionately at their spouses meanwhile Yunho never cared for a second to see if she was still in the room. For a while she just hid in the garden, away from the social gathering like she used to at the Hwang estate- enjoying her own comfort amongst nature. Except this time it was not comforting at all, not when the wives told her how lucky she was to have a handsome and intellectual husband like Yunho. Simply she smiled although a pit formed in her heart that only really seemed to dig deeper each time she was reminded of the reality of her miserable marriage. If only they knew, if only someone cared enough to ask her if she was happy instead of telling her how lucky she was. If only they noticed her distance and the sadness veiled beneath the façade of contentment.

Hongjoong, who had initially been making his way to the kitchen to check on how much longer they had to wait until the food was served, noticed a feminine figure standing alone by the white chrysanthemums her fingers brushing over the surface of the petal.

“Jagiya have you seen Mrs Jeong, I can’t-,” Mrs Kim followed his line of sight to find her target. The couple shared a look before Hongjoong made his way to the garden, Mrs Kim fixing her spot by the window.

“Mrs Jeong, are you ok?” The voice of concern cracked her immersion away from the chrysanthemums to Hongjoong who held a friendly demeanour.

“Yes, I’m just not very social at big gatherings.” She admitted, dipping her head in embarrassment.

“Ah, you’re quite the wallflower. Opposite to Yunho, he’s very talkative. I wonder how you put up with him when you feign such quietness.” Forcefully, she smiled. He never spoke to her; when he did it usually out of necessity. “You should come in now, the night will be settling in soon and dinner is about to be served.” Hongjoong had left her to her own devices but as soon as he turned, the hospitable appearance had dropped and he felt a wave of fury. He could see it in her eyes, the sadness she was suffering from, he noticed the longing looks she sent him and Yunho barely acknowledging her presence. How could he be so nonchalant? Mrs Jeong returned back to the house just in time for dinner to be served, the men and women had naturally been segregated from each other enjoying the delicious dishes cooked by the servants with the help of Mrs Kim. The lady of the house occasionally peered over her bowl to see Yunho’s wife who was crammed into the corner of the room avoiding conversation. When she was dragged into one, she engaged enough to not be seen as ignorant before excusing herself to use the restroom. She hid in the bathroom until she was sure that dinner was over, it had turned out that she came back after desert but nobody paid much attention to her absence. Silently, she thanked god for their disinterest.

Meanwhile, on the other end of the table the males had been interrogating Yunho on his life as a newlywed husband. For all they knew he was smitten with his wife and treated her as if she was the Queen Consort herself, taking his distance from her at this gathering as an act of shyness.

“Thank god you settled down, I was getting worried that you were going to be taking up courtesans for the rest of your life.” Mingi, his closest companion, imputed.

“Well that option wasn’t too bad either.” He aimlessly joked, receiving a mixture of responses. Some awkwardly chuckled while others gave him a pointed look latching onto his pending lassitude to marriage. The rest of the evening flew by in a breeze, at the end all of the couples drew back to their respective pairs- thanking the Kim family for their hospitality before dispersing out of the estate with linked arms and intertwined hands.

“You have got to be more attentive towards your wife Yunho. It’s what makes the moments between you much more candid.” Hongjoong advised as Yunho came to bid him goodbye. For the first time during the evening he searched for his wife, finding her conversing with Hongjoong’s spouse by the doorway.

“What do you mean, hyung?” Yunho questioned, that great big grin of his faltering slightly.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that you should be able sense her emotions towards you at this point. Do you ever stop to think that for a married woman she looks incredibly lonely?” His tongue poked the inside of his mouth, he cocked his head as he focused his attention towards her.

“I think you’ve got it all wrong. She’s just never been much of a social butterfly.” Hongjoong begged to differ but he did not want to pry, he had his attempt at trying to get Yunho to see how stoic he was being- whether or not he wanted to understand his sobriety was his own problem. The pair approached their wives, Yunho snaking an his arm around her waist, drawing her closer to him-he sensed how stiff she had gotten from his touch.

“…and be sure to visit me whenever you’d like! I would enjoy the company, Mrs Jeong.” Mrs Kim offered. The newlyweds smiled, bid their final goodbyes and whisked themselves away from the home. Yunho kept his arm around her waist, gripping his wife to his side all really because he saw the evident scepticism whenever he spoke about his marriage, the wool could not be pulled over Hongjoong’s eyes.

“Complaining about me to Hongjoong?” Her back pressed against the wooden panel as he inched towards her intimidatingly.

“What? No, there’s nothing to complain about-” He grabbed the bottom of her chin, her neck snapped back as she looked at him her jaw paining from the intensity of his coarse grip.

“I’m starting to get sick of you,” He yanked her head backwards and forwards, a breath catching in her throat. In that moment he looked like her father, inflicting tethers of abuse to assert his dominance. With a thumping heart that beat too quickly for its own good, her vision became cloudy, breaths exhilarating as he continued to yell at her. This time, the words whirled over her head- her mind clogged with everything and nothing at the same time as the walls of the room began to shimmer, caving in on her. Ripping away from his grip, she pushed past him stumbling to her quarters as tears rushed to the front of her eyes, her mind filling with all of the trauma she had endured from her childhood, as he called after her. She broke into a sprint, tearing through the open space. Her back slumped against the door; she gripped her lips to prevent any sound from coming out as hot tears streamed down her paling skin. Irrational thoughts began to infiltrate her mind.

I can’t do this anymore.

He called out her name through the door, skin leaping of her muscles at the unusual gentleness.

“Let me come in, what’s going on?” No, he’d only mock her. She couldn’t let her guard down. Darting her eyes to the drawer on her bedside table, the hurricane of voices in her mind seemed to quieten.

No one would miss me, right?

The tears stopped, the pace of her heart regulating back again, quickened breaths slowing as she edged closer to the drawer. Chewing on her lip, she felt a roar of emotions tackle her as she gripped the cold metal handle this time not bothering to glue her mouth shut as obnoxious tears escaped her.

Min Cha would miss her. Her mother would miss her. Maybe not her husband or her father. Her husband could move on, wives were replaceable after all. Though killing herself would be a way at getting back at her father, she had no siblings- there would be no one to elevate the Hwang name. Suicide was socially unacceptable, so she’d be digging a grave for both herself and her family. The thought had crossed her mind too many times than she’d liked to admit but she lacked the strength to commit the sin. Instead she'd clasp her hands together and pray to god for a way out of this torment. Fatigue overpowered her at last, crawling to the bed she lifted the covers slipping underneath as her arms wrapped around herself to feel the warmth she was entitled to. When she slept, she dreamt of a fantasy- a life where he loved her and she loved him. As deeply and constantly as one wanted to be loved.

He stood on the other side of the door, tempted to slide it open to see if she was ok. Her eyes had held a certain type of horror that had haunted him. Yunho was too proud to admit that he had been treating her terribly, in an attempt to rebel against his father for the way he'd been forced into this marriage with no way out. Despite this remark, he was still too shallow to see that she was in the same position as himself suffering worse at the hands of his tyranny.

"My dearest Min Cha,

I lied to you. I lied to you when I said he makes me happy. How can I be happy when I have to beg for him look at me? If God permitted I ever crossed his mind it would be a blessing for he torments me with his harsh words and aloof stare-"

He called out her name.

For the first time in a very long time, since that night he stood outside the door for hours as she sobbed herself weary. The sound of him calling her name echoing the beat of her heart, every octave was every rhythm silencing the sorrowness in her soul. Even when he subjected her to his ferocity, she grappled onto the moments when he called for her because even being used felt like loving.

"I was going to go on a walk, if you'd like to join me?" His eyes darted to sheet in front of her, "if you're busy-"

"I'd love to," Maybe she said that too quickly, but he gave her a sheepish smile. Slipping the sheet inside the drawer and closing the pot of ink, she rose from her seat following Yunho out of the home.

The neighbourhood was quiet, as the sun began to sink beneath the sky. Some of the neighbourhood’s children scuttled back into their homes- all of them reminding her of her own dear Min Cha. They’d ventured out of the town centre, towards the outskirts where a large park was situated. She’d never gone there herself, but saw it on her way to Mrs Kim’s house. The park itself was desolate, the grass waving eloquently as few birds soared through the sky. She wondered what it was like to be free. Was she not free? Perhaps free from her father’s wrath, but instead subjugated to even worse at the hands of her husband. In that moment she envied Mrs Kim- and envy was a foreign feeling to her- for having someone as caring as Hongjoong as her husband. Whilst she was so whisked away in her sorrows, she didn’t notice Yunho draw his fingers closer to her- before encapsulating her whole hand within his. The sudden warmth perpetuated through her, her heart fluttering at this sudden affection. Was he starting to appreciate her now?

"Hongjoong-nah!" he called out, summoning the attention of the couple sat beneath a tree, a large number of metres away from them. Oh, that's why he held my hand. Everything was an act to him, she bit her lip to stop it from quivering. No affection was ever really genuine and no amount of praying to God would ever make it real. Hongjoong and his wife waved back, Yunho stepped forward to make his way across the fields towards them but she tugged at his arm pulling him back. He looked down at her confused, attempting to tug her along with him but her feet anchored to the ground.

"I think you should leave them be, they're having their own moment." she offered, her faint voice infiltrating his ears. Processing the thought, he pursed his lips and then nodded. They both waved at the couple, turning away to move- she half expected him to let go off her hand at that but their hands remained clasped together, Yunho tightening his grip as they walked away from the fields back to their home.

Undiscovered to them, when Hongjoong waved back he almost made a gesture to invite them over to him when his wife tugged at his arm.

"Let them be, Joong. They're having their moment." He agreed, retracting his hand, watching as his best friend walk away from him.

As suspected, Yunho’s sentiment stemmed from his guilt. After that day where they walked through the park together, he never invited another moment of closeness. Ignoring the agonising pang that struck through her, she moved on with her chores, simply deciding that she would have to live it the same way that her mother did.

Her father-in-law stopped to visit a few times. Yunho had hired maids, for the week that he stayed over. For the first time it felt odd to not be doing something, she was not at comfort with it. However, she had to manufacture a façade for Mr Jeong; so she did. Much to Yunho’s dismay, her mother had sent a letter saying that she too was passing through the town and wanted to visit her daughter.

She knocked on the door to his study, his head perked up at the sight of her. Inaudibly she handed the letter to him, to which he quickly scanned over the page releasing an annoyed sigh.

“You couldn’t have told me earlier? I wouldn’t have to dismiss the maids.”

“I only got the letter today.” Rolling his eyes, he leaned back in his chair, exercising his strained fingers. “Go.” He ordered.

“Would you like me to get you-,”

“Go.”

Her mother, meekly, ambled through the gate a small bag of luggage in hand. Yunho had not been at home when she arrived, but when he came back she had to scuttle to the doorway and make him aware so that her mother wouldn’t have to hear any of his harsh words. With a short nod, he retreated to his room to change out his scholars robes, before greeting his mother-in-law in the dining room.

“You’re so lucky, dear, to have a husband like Yunho. Tall, handsome, clever. What more could you ask for?” For him to care for me, to treat me as his equal. To not just treat me as a toy, picking and dropping me whenever he wishes. Mrs Hwang’s hands outstretched for her daughter’s, jerking immediately once she had surveyed them. They were not soft like they had used to be, but coarse-as if struck by labour. “These aren’t a wives hands. Those are tender and full of care. These are overworked.”

“He’s overworked my love for him.” She joked. Mrs Hwang gave a detailed stare before cracking a forced smile, fear rushing through her. Perhaps she was just overthinking, maybe her daughter had taken up studying again and was spending her free time writing away with her husband.

“I almost forgot. I came to hand the keys to your grandmothers estate in Hahoe. Take it as a wedding gift. You ought to visit, to see if it’s still intact or has been run over by the villagers.” Accepting the keys from her mother, she opened up her bedside drawer, waiting for the rush of sombre emotions to subside before throwing them in.

Sometimes I envy you, at least you were seen even if it was to be hurt.

A low hiss escaped from her lips as she carried the heavy tray to the dining room, a sharp stab penetrating through her lower abdomen almost disabling her ability to move through the vast hallways. After many months, the frigidity of her quarters had finally gotten to her, waking up with a stuffy nose and an abrasive tickle in her throat. Much to her dismay, Yunho was sat in his seat as she rested his food in front of him. She bit her lip as she kneeled to set out his dishes, restraining a grunt. Her hands moved quickly, partly so she could withdraw to her room, roll up into a ball and wallow in her own pain. Yunho noticed her paling skin and the beads of sweat forming above her lip as with a shaky breath she poured his tea, his prolonging beam burning into her skull. Hastily, she rose up grimacing before turning to leave. He shot out his hand, grabbing her wrist, fear bleeding onto her face.

“You should stay and eat with me.” He suggested. The words somehow warmed her heart, yet the two forces of pain and comfort repelled against each other. Tugging at her wrist, it prompted her to sit aside him Yunho moving the plate between them. "Eat up, you look really weak. Are you eating properly?" With furrowed brows and pursed lips he lifted his spoon to feed her, her hand lifted to grab the handle of the spoon but he jerked it back. "Open your mouth." he spoke light heartedly. She accepted his spoonful of food as if he hadn't subjected her to months of distance and cold words. As if a few months ago their marriage was menial and meant as much as servant meant to a king or wheat meant to a lion. What had caused this sudden change? They spent rest of the duration of breakfast taking in turns eating; she spent the whole time clutching at her stomach- and avoiding eye contact at that. He wanted something from her, her nerves jolting at the thought of being used. At the end, she picked up all the dishes to clear them from the table, scurrying out of the room so he would be unable to notice the blush forming on her cheeks when he attempted to assist her and their skin touched sending a tingle through her fingers. Though he did notice, a blush crept upon his face- even he couldn't understand the change in heart despite knowing that his indifference towards her was unjustified; he could not blame the cruelty he beguiled her to on his father and a marriage he did not want.

A sigh of relief escaped her once he left the house; she limped to her room, the pains in her stomach unfaltering. Closing her eyes, she slipped into a deep slumber. When she had awakened to a soft nudge, no light streamed in through the windows. Her eyes widened in realisation, grunting to sit up.

“Are you ok?” She jumped slightly, shifting her line of sight to find her husband kneeled beside her. Oh god. An intense consternation seethed through her blood, her heart wavering with anticipation as if waiting on his judgement. What would he do? Shout at her? Maybe grab her forcefully as he had once done? Deprive her of food? He hadn’t done the latter as of yet, but what was stopping him? His despotism held no bounds. Yet, to her surprise, he did none of it. Instead, he placed the palm of his hand to her forehead, feeling the burn of her skin against his. “Goodness, stay here. Don’t move.” Her vision wavered, as a result of her drowsiness. Tucking up her knees to her chest, she waited for him on her bed. After a while, he reappeared in her room with a tray holding an assortment of things. A bowl of hot soup, some tea, a spoon. His affection astounded her. Yunho did not even let her pick up the bowl, raising the spoon to her lips to feed her the soup.

“Have you eaten?” She asked. He shook his head.

“You must be hungry, I can prepare you food.”

“Don’t bother, you’re staying here. Besides I’m not hungry. How long have you been in pain for?” Was this the same Yunho she was married to? Actually, was this all a dream?

“Not long, it started today.” His lips fell into a polite frown. She had always agreed when others told her that Yunho possessed a handsome face, yet today those features became particularly distinguished to her.

“I can call the Physician I’ll go-,”

“There’s no need. I’m-,” He arched an eyebrow in inquisition. “I’m on that time of the month.” His ears tinged red in embarrassment, an endearing smile fell on her. Then it had dawned on her. When was the last time she smiled? Truly, and not forced?

“Would you like a heating pad then?” Nodding her head, she beamed again, to which he immediately dispersed out of the room to obey her request. Yunho had realised how much he enjoyed being affectionate, hating himself for the torture he inflicted upon her. Every touch was still staggered, every kind word had come off less fluently than he would have liked.

“You have a thing for staring into space.” Yunho’s eyes met hers. “You’ll look at anything but me.” He sat in her room again, he liked it there. There was a comfort in her quarters that could not be found elsewhere in the home. Though she found comfort in the garden. He had never paid much attention to it before, his scholarly duties often prevented him from venturing into the garden- sometimes he stayed over the nights at the office, scribbling away in journals fulfilling an endless piles of tasks submitted to him by his superiors. He found himself looking at her whilst she was staring intently out of the window.

“Is that a problem?” She provoked, playfully.

“Yes. I require your attention.” She focused on his wide brown eyes for a second before raising her eyebrows in a questioning manner, one that read ‘Well what do you want from me?’ She knew better now than to interpret this sudden interest in her, as affection. “Is it too bad for me to want to you focus on me instead?” Hesitantly, he enveloped her smaller hands into his the warmth of his palms easing the tension of their embrace. Then with all the courage he had, he shifted his body to rest his head on her laps, her hands flinging upwards at the shock of the sudden display of affection. He closed his eyes as she feebly combed her fingers through his soft black hair. Were these the small moments of affection that made a happy marriage? Moments where they were basked in each others embrace, nothing but the comfort of silence draping over them.

“How was your day?” She whispered, a small smile formed on his lips.

“Pretty dull if you ask me, meetings after meetings but no progression. How was yours?”

“Also dull. But the kitchen and garden keeps me occupied.” His eyes snapped open and she halted her movements for a second.

“I could hire the servants back to help you, if it’s too much.” She shook her head as if to disagree. In all honesty, she liked the domesticity. It brought her a sense of security- if she could not entirely stable a place in his heart, she could at least have a place in his home. He made himself comfortable in her laps, flipping his head as if to indicate he was about to sleep.

“Right you can get off me now, your big head is weighing down my legs.” He snickered, that beautiful smile crawling across his defined features, plaguing her own heart. She snickered with him, sharing a small laughter between them. He did leave her that night, but not without placing a chaste kiss on her forehead leaving with her smile that fell with her when she slept.

“She just wanted a few pieces of literature. I write a few things in the margins.” On her way home from Mrs Kim's she sought Yunho stood outside of their home with another woman. A beautiful woman at that, wrought with elegance and grace. Her movements so poise, she even matched Yunho's insatiable beauty. He caught her discontentment through his peripheral vision. Picking up a book from the night stand in his quarters, where they both sat on his bed, he flipped through a few pages showing her his detailed annotation. “Most people just like to read my notes rather than the actual novel.”

“It’s very profound.” She noted, reeling through the words. He had a poetic way of writing, reflective of his image and movements. Yunho was looking at her again, whilst she was flipping through the pages in his book. He caught the long curve of her lashes, blinking as soft as a child’s blow across a face. Like the way he used to blow on his mother’s eyes to steer her awake from her sleep when he was hungry.

“You’re beautiful.” He blurted. And she was. She always was. He was just too cruel to deny himself the pleasures of being in love to admit that to himself. “I’m sorry.” A second confession, yet this one hung tensely in the air. Without looking at him, her palm settled on his cheek. She did not have the strength to say it was ok, because none of it was.

“Can you look at me?” Their eyes connected in an instant. His lips drawing nearer to her own. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, before meeting her lips, drawing her into a passionate kiss fuelled from his melancholia. I’m sorry. And they met again, in the darkness of his room, heads falling onto the pillow, kissing away their sorrows until the stars ignited in the night sky.

He had not come home for a while, his absence tormented her. She knew of his increasing number of hours at the Royal Office, regardless she launched into a fit of worry as she strode down the street to his workplace. If he wasn't going to come home himself, she would have to drag him from there. Upon reaching his workplace, piles of scholars rushed out yet Yunho was still nowhere to be seen.

“Are you ok, Miss?” A scholar had asked.

“I’m looking for Jeong Yunho.”

“In the library. Just down the hall from the entrance.” Nodding she quickly thanked him before he could question her further. Her eyes ran down the aisles, letting out an exhale when she noticed his appearance, at the bottom end. Though before she could take a step forward, the same noblewoman appeared from before. A pleasant smile graced his lips as she handed back one of his books. It had all appeared slow from then on, the way that she grabbed his collar down towards her.

She watched him kiss her.

Did the Earth stop orbiting the sun? For everything in that moment felt incredibly still, like the wind had an hitch in its throat, the delicate leaves outside had stopped swaying; the birds had stopped flapping their wings. When a dissonant gasp had escaped from her lips, the world had resumed all the same, soul thriving with vigilance. He had kissed her the same way she had once been kissed: with such raw emotional intensity, his hands settled on her waist bringing her closer to him. She couldn't watch, tears blurring her vision her sweaty palms balled into fists at her side. Tearing away from them she sprinted back towards her home- her body wracking with tears. Was it even her home anymore? It wasn't enough that she walked through the desolate alleyways, her sobs were loud enough to wake an animal from hibernation but she couldn't care less. Not when his love felt like a feather floating towards the ground, away from her and she was unable to clasp it, feeling its fibres caress her skin. It's touch was no longer satisfactory, it was addictive and she wanted more. Yet it was not hers to have, and not his to give.

All of it was a lie. She wasn't just a noble woman interested in some reading. She wasn't just an acquaintance. After all, Mrs Jeong wasn't just his wife- maybe on paper but had there ever really been moment in their relationship where his love hadn't reached after a period of hurt? There was no continuity to his affection and there never would be. The sadness within her transgressed to anger, she slipped into her quarters through the back garden- her tears ceasing as her body gushed with a familiar numbness.

How long- No.

There would be no more 'How long?' because with each passing second as she prayed for him to return to her and her alone, Yunho took advantage of her desperation to keep her looped to him. Impulsively, she yanked at her drawers grabbing at every article of clothing she possessed and shoving them into the same bags she had entered this cursed home with a never ending stream of tears soundlessly pouring down her face as she did. Her heart tugged at her when she slid the bags under her bed so he would not see if he entered her room. Residing to the table, she began to scribble at the sheet of paper, the wounding scratching of the quill against paper creating small dents.

He never returned home that night. And she didn't long to see his face, the memory of it disgusting her. She felt so tainted, marked, by his touch- is that all he wanted her for? Her body? And her, a fool she was to give it to him like it meant nothing to her. When the dawn seeped into the sky she placed a letter on the mahogany table of his study, taking the envelope containing the key that her mother had given her and fled from the estate-taking the doors at the back of the home. Her chest burned as she stormed up the hill, and when she reached to the top of it the chilling air suffocated her lungs- her eyes flung back to the home, her yearning for it ever so strong. A final look; she tore her eyes knowing that if she went back she'd only get hurt even more and there would be no one to blame but herself.

"Jagiya, I'm home!" He called into the foyer. There was no pattering of footsteps stumbling his way to greet him home. Neither was she in the kitchen, in her quarters-or his own. In replacement of her absence, in the study a crisp, folded up note sat on his desk. His heart thumped in his chest as he picked it up.

My love,

I find I cannot bring myself to say the things I want, to your face. So as the coward I am, I say them through this letter hoping it reaches your heart instead of your eyes. I’m sorry that I married you. I’m sorry that she’s not yours. I’m sorry that even though I tried, and tried and tried that I wasn’t enough for you. So I’m setting you free from the shackles of this marriage. Whilst a divorce is not an option, I wish for you to take my departure as a blessing to move on with the woman you love.

I cannot stand in the same room as you, knowing she stood there too. I cannot bear your touch knowing she felt you too, in a more sincere way than I have ever felt. I cannot and will not hear you say you love me, not when you don’t mean it. Perhaps you feel you must say it out of obligation. Now you have no obligation to me, so say it to her in all the ways I wanted to hear them.

Lastly, thank you. Whilst I could not be entitled to your heart, you gave me the comfort of your home, your money and somewhat your time. For that I’ll always be grateful. I wish you the best of luck for the future.

Sincerely,

Miss Hwang

The letter in his hands trembled, tears billowing at the front of his brown eyes. How did he lose her? Did she somehow see the kiss? The way that the noblewoman had forced herself onto him, fixing her lips to him so tightly, he was paralysed on the spot. He could have sworn he felt her presence looming in the room, he couldn’t do this to her. He had hurt her enough. Roughly pushing away the noblewoman he ran to the bathroom, scrubbing at his lips as if it would remove the cursed action in itself; take the unremovable stain off. A weak sob escaped from his lips, sinking to his knees to cry out to the moon. It was all a mistake. He needed to find her, he needed to make his way to back to her.

A little body dashed across the front lawn, parading around the bushes as his mother stood in the kitchen, stacking away the dishes back into the cupboards. Thunder cracked the sky once more as a tall figure dashed up the hill to find comfort from the rain in the house settled upon the hill. He found that a child ran around the outside, who having sought him transcend tiredly, slowly inched towards him. Having been sent to Hahoe to retrieve scrolls and various pieces of literature, he had been let out of the carriage too early left to venture his way into the town. Normally, Yunho’s navigation skills were precise though with his mind wrought with numbness- it severed at his ability to think rationally. Yunho did not find her. He had searched the whole of Joseon too. From Hongjoong’s home all the way to her parents. Every possible place he thought she could be, he checked. Her mother cried out her soul, his father taunted him. A fool he was to let a diamond slip from his hands.

Si Won watched a man walk up the hill to his home, cocking his head in inquisition. His mother, Mrs Jeong, stalked to the doorway to call her child back into the home. A few weeks after she had reached her grandmother’s home in Hahoe, she was attacked by a wave of sickness every morning, tiredness gnawing at her muscles and had suddenly manifested a large appetite. She met with the towns physician, quickly learning that she was pregnant. She came back home to cry herself to sleep, so much so that she had almost lost her child in the midst of her grief. He became her anchor, giving her a reason to wake up every morning and to survive.

“Si Won, get back inside.” The toddler nodded before dashing down the hills to satisfy his interest in the peculiar stranger. Yunho’s movements halted as he met with the boy, who had shyly stopped less than a metre away. With a kind wave, the boy smiled- one that eerily mirrored his own.

She stopped as the stranger lifted up her child, walking in the direction of her home. There was something about the way that he moved that magnetised her, though the rain beating down on them, had her rushing back into the doorway-poking out her head. Yunho’s heart stopped for a split second in his chest.

It was her.

The child released himself from his grip, squirming to be put down. Gently, Yunho set down the boy who rushed into his home and passed his mother, frozen to the ground. He called out her name, a pained sob releasing from her as she turned to grab her child.

She had left the door open, Yunho ran in. Facing away from him, her child’s head buried in the crook of her neck by the light force of her hand. All so he couldn’t see her in this moment of vulnerability. No child should ever see their mother cry. It hurt more for them watch, than the mother to endure.

“I searched the whole of Joseon for you, but I couldn’t find you.” His wavering voice, reached out to her from the other end of the hallway.

“Close the door. Take off your shoes and go into the living room.” She ordered, passing up the steps to settle her child down to sleep. Persisting through his whines to not go to bed, he shrunk into a ball under her hard stare; huffing as if that would change her mind.

“Is he mine?” The soft covers blanketed his tiny frame, her hands caressing his cheeks. She got up to face him, nodding.

“I think you should leave, Yunho. When the storm subsides.”

“You have to listen to me. It’s not what you think. I know you saw us-,�� His pleads were interrupted by the shutting of the door, descending the steps she entered the front room. “It was a mistake. She grabbed me, and forced herself onto me. I would never do that to you.”

“Would you not?” She argued. “You had no problem in hurting me when we first got married. In fact, in the entirety of our marriage you have hurt me more than you have loved me.” He went quiet, panting in the air as he held back sobs. He wanted to reach out and hold her again.

“I was sincere in my apology, I realised how wrong it was of me to subject you to punishment over something that was not your fault. I hadn’t realised that you never wanted this marriage in the first place- the same way that I didn’t. I hadn’t realised how cruel your father really was, until I told him that you had left home and there was not even so much as a scent of emotion on his face.” Breathlessly, his hands shook by his sides. Taking in his face, it no longer held the youthfulness that it once did. It was spun with tiredness and sorrow, his face sunken as if he hadn’t eaten in years. She wanted to dote on him again, hold him, feed him with her own spoon. Tell him how much she loved him, but hadn’t he hurt her so much already? Was he worth the endless amount of love she held for him?

“I had to beg for you to love me. Nobody begs for love Yunho. And even if you couldn’t love me, you could’ve tolerated me but you didn’t even want to do that.” A shaky breath escaped from her lips. His heated stare burned holes into her skin, her hair stuck to the back of her neck as sweat pooled under the guise of every humiliating emotion felt to man.

"Let me be yours again, please." he went down on his knees wrapping his arms around her stomach; tears staining the front of her dress. A stream of her own pearl tears soundlessly scurried down her face as she ran her fingers through his thick, black hair.

"Oh Yunho, why can't you understand? You've always been mine. It's me who's never had the privilege of having you." Falling to her knees, she plastered both of her hands to the side of his face, lifting it up gently so she could bore her eyes into his.

“Let me have that privilege again, let me have you in all the ways that you deserve. To have you and hold you in my arms is all I want to do. I will lay down my life for you just to have you again.” A solicitude remained suspended in the air, his staggered breaths pulping the palpable tension- attempting to calm himself.

“I’ve been hurt enough. I really don’t think I can go on being hurt.” He nodded his head understandingly, a look of dejection flooding over his perfect features. Hesitantly, she reached for his hands encasing his larger palm in hers- to grab at his attention. Patting her lap, she motioned for him to draw closer to her. Slowly, he drew closer falling into her laps. “Don’t say anything. I just want to hold you.” To hold you as if I’m going to lose you again. To drink you in as if this the last of drop of water to ever touch the earth.

With his face buried in her torso, his eyes fluttered to a close. Her knees tucked up, hands roaming through his hair as if it were uncharted lands. Wind rushed into the room, the sky dimming to a stony grey.

She knew now. Her worth was void of value but her love for him transcended deeper than the earth, vaster than the seven seas. Her hurt prolonged centuries, an immortal root that would transgress generations. Her heart limped towards him, through ruptured arteries and severed limbs.

“Get up, dear. Si Won-ah is waiting for us.”

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, REPURPOSE, OR PLAGISRISE ANY OF THE WORK HERE

‘hwang’ meaning yellow

A/N: I was hyping up how sad this would be, so I hope this actually lives up to everyone’s expectations 😭 I did catch myself crying but I am overly emotional sometimes. This has been sitting in my drafts for a good four and a half months, it’s such a relief to finally get it out.

let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for any future fics I post!

#ateez #ateez fanfic #yunho x reader #yunho x you #historical au #arranged marriage #ateez x reader #jeong yunho #kpop #ateez angst #ateez yunho #yunho

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