#i wish tag let me use commas | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mimicry741 · 11 months ago

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I RAN OUT OF SPACE IN THE TAGS SO I'M JUST GONNA DUMP MY SCREAMING UP HERE BECAUSE I AM UNWELL I AM INSANE I AM FOAMING AND FROTHING AND GOING FERAL OVER THIS I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU!!!!!!

I am free of my shackles I can take as many big chunks and commas as I want now I should not have been granted this power but I will use it only for adoration and appreciation!

��Spencer what time is it my love?” “You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.” it is like,,, paragraph 2 and I am already making ungodly sounds babes you can't do this to me this early

“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me“ ”Aw baby. You’re cheating on me?” “I’m afraid so” NOT THE I'M AFRAID SO!

'Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore.' DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING TO ME!? I AM SCALING THE WALLS OF MY ENCLOSURE AND GOING INSANE

“I annoy people.” “You don’t annoy me.” AOUGH.

'You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. "No,” he hums sadly.' OH MY FUCKING GOD ARE YOU KIDDING ME I NEED TO GO HOME I AM UNWELL! the little gasp! I bet that man even *slumped!* deflated even!

'It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it.' Oh. My. *Lord.* this whole chunk. This whole entire piece right here. 'It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it.' I am in shambles. I am in pieces. This is a poem, this is a love song in itself, I am losing my marbles

“But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.” "-I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.” How am I supposed to read this and its adjacent parts and be able to only pick small parts out to highlight as my favorite?? How, when every sentence is so good? also people need to stop staring blankly at him! like damn bitch you never learned how to be polite?? at least pretend to be interested! I would pay real money to be able to listen to a Spencer Reid podcast that's just him meandering around for hours talking about whatever he comes up with and they're getting it for free??

“Is that why you make all your jokes?” “What jokes, babe?” “Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.” You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?” oh the heartbreak! the way you just cracked open my ribs and punched me in the heart?? please remove yourself from my organs I need those!

“I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.” He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him. You’re happy to. “Spencer, I like you like this,” AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!

“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled.

“To you. And you’re perfect to me. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do.” I am wailing. I am sobbing. I am unhinged, throwing myself onto the bed and kicking my feet. But you're *perfect*, he says, puzzled! as though he can't possibly fathom the idea that you're not! as though there cannot exist a world in his mind where that statement isn't true! I am so god damned NORMAL about EVERYTHING but ESPECIALLY YOU AND YOUR WORDS AND THE WAY YOU WEAVE THEM TOGETHER THE WAY YOU DO

'Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time.' ALL THE TIME!? HE THINKS ABOUT IT ALL THE TIME! half sick with dehydration and grief oh my god......

'He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true.' presented without comment because I'm too busy going insane and losing my mind and crying I think

'Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it.' YEAH BUDDY GUESS WHAT! ITS NOT JUST LIKE!

“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move.' THE WARNING! THE OPPORTUNITY TO MOVE AWAY! THE WAY HE DOESN'T!! I AM SICK! I AM UNWELL!

'You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again.' Oh he deserves such softness, he deserves the world, he deserves someone to adore him.

𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

Spencer calls you drunk and in need of rescue. You confess a few secrets to him while he won’t remember them (or so you think). 3k, fem

cw drunk!spencer, mentioned past drug use, confident/bombshell!reader, flirting, spencer getting some well deserved comfort, a handful of his drunken compliments, insecurity, intense mutual pining

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re blissfully sleeping in the arms of a REM cycle when your phone rings. It pulls you by the chest, a punch of shock and expectancy at once. It’ll be someone calling you into work, Hotch himself if you’re lucky.

You search blindly for your phone. If you’re even luckier, it’ll be a wrong number. Your fingers curl around the little body of your phone and you bring it to your ear without checking the number, frazzled. “Hello?” you ask hoarsely.

Total quiet.

“Hello?” You pull the screen away. The caller reads: SPENCER. You pull it back rather than hang up. “Hey, Spencer. Are you there?”

“Hello.” He laughs. “Hello, are you there?”

“I’m here, Spencer, where are you?”

“That’s an interesting question, actually, and I’m sure there’s a great answer, but…”

“But what?” You sit up quickly, your throat aching with sleep. Your room is black as coal pitch. “Spencer, what time is it, my love?”

“You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.”

“Stop being weird and tell me where you are.”

He laughs like a hyena. You can see it in your mind, his smile and all his pearly perfect teeth. You love it when he smiles like that and he rarely ever does. “I’m somewhere and I need your help getting home!” he says with another funny laugh.

“Are you alright? You sound…” He sounds inebriated.

Spencer struggled with his drug problem for so long before you found out. You just hadn’t been around enough, and when you were he’d gotten good at hiding it. You can still remember how furious you’d been with everyone, including him, because you could’ve helped, would’ve done anything to support him through it. If he’s hurting now and hasn’t told you, you love him, but you’ll be insanely angry.

“Spencer?” you ask quietly.

“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me and I may have drowned my sorrows too much,” he admits. “Um. Did you know gin is very strong?”

“Aw, baby. You’re cheating on me?”

“I’m afraid so,” he says, and hiccups.

“Where are you?”

After some hassle wherein you persuade Spencer to give the phone to someone else in the bar for a slightly less drunk interrogation, you dress and gather your bearings for the drive. You zip a hoodie up over your pyjamas, stuff your feet into some old converse, and set out into the dark to find him.

He calls you again as you’re parking. “Hello,” he says as soon as you answered. “I need you to come and get me.”

Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore. “Spencer, I’m two minutes away, I’m parking. You’re still where you were?”

“Where was I?”

“At the bar, sweetheart. Are you still there?” It’s scarily dark out and you didn’t grab any sort of defensive measure before you came, which you regret now, climbing out of your car to walk the dimly lit road. The bar glows like a beacon to be followed.

“Still where?”

“Did you hit your head?”

“Not to my knowledge. Though I’m not sure I have much right now. I feel like I’m forgetting everything I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot. You know I can read about eighty average length novels in one hour on an e-reader? The buttons make it faster.”

“You haven’t told me that before.” You shiver against the nighttime winds, footsteps heavy on the grey sidewalk.

“I’m trying to be more conversational. Emily says it’s not working.”

“You’re conversational. Isn’t the only condition of being conversational to prompt a conversation? We’re always talking.”

“…What?”

You laugh like crazy. “Spencer, you don’t need to change the way you talk.”

“I annoy people.”

“You don’t annoy me.”

You approach the door of the bar, a ramshackle sheet of plywood over what looks to be a glass door. The bar building seems in similar dessaray, with modern features wrecked by scratches and smashed panes. It’s a real dive. Spencer couldn’t have meant to come here.

You war with both hands to open the door and find yourself faced with a long and empty corridor leading to another door. Worried you’re going to get kidnapped, you bring the phone back to your ear, Spencer’s chatting an immediate greeting. “…telling me I’m doing something wrong without telling me what it is, it’s impossible.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, can you come to the door?”

“I don’t think I have control of my legs,” he says without inflection.

“It’s definitely the building with the smashed door?”

“Yesssss. Are you here?” he asks excitedly.

“I better not get murdered, Spencer Reid.”

“Am I in trouble?”

“How are you even keeping the phone to your ear right now?”

“I’m on speaker phone. Milly showed me how to do it. Say hi, Milly.”

“Hi Milly,” a new voice says.

You rub your eyes with one hand and square your shoulders, prepared to defend yourself if the creepy door leads to a creepier room.

Spencer is immediately visible from the get go. You open the door on to a rather cosy looking bar, which you’re thinking might be the whole point; wretched exterior, secret attraction. Warm orange light ebbs into the space from sconces and a faux fireplace, while a wrestling match playing from the small TV behind the bar casts brighter light down onto Spencer’s shoulders. He looks out of place, dressed in a white oxford shirt and a suit jacket, his tie loosened and hanging from either side of his neck, compared to the lingering patrons who sit dotted around the room in booths and on barstools. One such patron sits in a plaid shirt and a trucker hat, her hair to her back, thick and dark.

You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar, clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. “No,” he hums sadly.

“Spencer,” you say, not wanting to disturb the people spending their sorry-looking night here. “Spencer. Hey, Spence!”

His phone tips between his fingers. The woman you assume to be Milly catches it and offers it back without looking too far from her beer.

“Hey,” you say gently, crossing a wide empty space to meet him. The room itself is shaped like a horseshoe, the bar taking up a surprising amount in the centre, and booths and tables placed around it. Spencer’s off of his barstool as you approach, eyes like puppy dog’s, arms extended. “You okay?” you ask.

You can feel eyes on you both from every angle, but it doesn’t matter, not when Spencer’s falling into your arms (or on to them —he’s surprisingly tall when you aren’t wearing heels). “You alright?” you ask again.

“You don’t have to be worried, I’m fine.”

He’s less coordinated in real life than he’d sounded over the phone, his slurring unmissable, his hands like jumping fish as he tries to hug you. It’s weird and straining to take his weight but you do it without complaint. He smells the same, at least, only his cedary cologne is sharpened by the tang of gin on his breath.

“Thank god you’re here,” he whispers.

“Why?” you ask, pulling away to check for danger.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too, handsome,” you say, genuine but laying it on thick simultaneously as you ease his head back to cup his cheek. You can’t help yourself. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever met, and it gets worse every year.

He frowns at you deeply. “I don’t like first dates.”

“Then don’t go on them,” you suggest, “you don’t need to until you’re ready.”

“I’m ready for love,” he says. You pull your lips into a flattened line, unsure of what to say, how to explain that it’s waiting for him, but his chin dips towards his neck and his eyes lock onto your face. “You’re not wearing makeup. God, you’re so pretty.”

You flinch away from him. “Fuck, Spencer.”

“I’m sorry! It’s not that you don’t look pretty with makeup, but I never see you without it!”

You’d forgotten you weren’t wearing any. Makeup isn’t a shield, exactly, but you like putting your best foot forward, so to speak. You’ve no clue what you look like tonight, hadn’t managed to look in the mirror, you’d been focused on getting to Spencer before he got lost. You can imagine the puffiness.

Spencer touches your cheek. You let him turn you mostly because he’s surprised you, his eyes roving up and down your face with a fawning curiosity.

“You’re beautiful. You know that already, but people don’t tell you enough,” he says, his hand falling from your cheek.

“Spencer,” you say softly, “let’s get you home.”

You thank Milly for her help and grab Spencer’s bag from the floor to hang on your shoulder. You’d make a joke about how heavy it was if you didn’t think he’d take it from you, and, considering how drunk he is, topple over from the imbalance it provides. His shirt is clammy where you push your hand through his arm to link them, his footsteps wobbly.

“I didn’t want to go on a date,” he says.

“Then why did you go?” you ask, helping him over the door jam into the long hallway.

“I don’t want to be alone forever.”

“Spencer, you won’t be.” It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it. But now he’s determined to write your affection off as a joke and going on dates?

In the morning, when he’s sober, you’ll have to tell him how you feel. Or you could let him find someone more like him… ugh. It’s such a mess.

You grapple with the size of your feelings for him as he hums and laughs his way down the hall to the glass door. On the street, he squints and straightens his back, fighting to regain his arm from your hold to cover your shoulder instead. “It’s cold,” he says in surprise. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, I got my jacket. It’s a short walk, come on.”

His arm stops acting as protection and starts to use you for support. “I didn’t mean to drink so much.”

“Drowning your sorrows is always a terrible idea because it tends to work,” you lament, less scared of the dark with him at your hip, though what protection he might offer is negated by the alcohol.

“She kind of looked like you.”

You squeeze your eyes together quickly. “Oh.”

“I didn’t know she was going to. But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.”

“Spencer, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I know,” he says.

“Do you?”

“Yes.” He frowns. “No, I don’t know. I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.”

“Is that why you make all your jokes?”

“What jokes, babe?”

“Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.”

You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?”

“I won’t remember to ask you in the morning.”

“Spencer, you remember everything.”

He drags his feet. “I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.”

You look down at your hands, panicking, a flash of Is this a good idea? like an alarm in your head as you turn on the sidewalk to face him. He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him.

You’re happy to.

“Spencer, I like you like this,” you insist loudly. His eyes and all his sweet lashes track the movement of your hand as you touch your chest, and your neck. “You’re not normal, I’m not normal. Do you know how many times I’ve been rejected? Just for being me? I’m too bossy, too outspoken, too– too high maintenance. I've had friends with good intentions tell me I need to lower my standards, need to relax, because otherwise I’m going to end up alone for the rest of my life. I feel alone all the time.”

“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled.

“To you. And you’re perfect to me.” Your hand crawls to the base of your throat. “So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. You think I’d come and get anybody else in the middle of the night dressed like this?” you ask him, gesturing to your ratty pyjamas and your dingy converse.

“You look so cute,” he says mournfully.

You roll your eyes. He’s too wasted for this conversation. “Come on, sweetheart. You can think about this too much in the morning. Let’s just get home in one piece.” Physically and emotionally.

“Can I come home with you?” he asks.

That had always been the plan. “Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it on the way.”

— —

Spencer shuts his eyes, hands itching to clap over his ears as you scratch the head of a spatula across your frying pan. “Is three eggs too many? People usually have two but that’s never enough for me.”

“I think…” Oh my god the metal screeching is so loud. “You should have as many as you want. You know your body. There’s this study on intuitive eating…” I'm too hungover for this. “Three eggs is better than two.”

“So you want three?”

He cannot eat right now. “Yes. Please.”

Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time.

You’d tipped your head back to smile at him. “There’s my boy. Sweet dreams?”

He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true. And now you’re making him breakfast, humming a tune under your breath, sourdough sizzling under the grill and a shoddily blended avocado sitting in the bowl in front of him.

You asked him for one thing. He picks up the fork and starts to mash the avocado again. He can’t fight the foreignness of sitting in your kitchen, a gap in his memory.

He knows he told you about his date, how she looked like you, how she didn’t seem to like him much, but he’s struggling to collect the finer details. Why had you picked him up? He must’ve called you, but you could’ve said no. He remembers thinking you looked beautiful, but he always thinks that.

The avocado is making him feel sick.

“Here,” you say, sliding a plate of toast in front of him. “Do you want butter?”

“I think I'm gonna throw up.”

“You’re okay.”

“I can’t believe how I acted,” he says, pressing his palms to the hollows of his eyes.

You turn off the hob. Fat bubbles and pops until it’s cooled. The clock on the wall by the refrigerator ticks incessantly. His slept-in shirt feels too tight despite the undone button.

“Hey…” You round the island but don’t touch him, your voice gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He drags his hands down his face. “I can barely remember what I said.”

“You were really nice to me… told me I looked pretty without my makeup, n’ that I was perfect. You were really nice.”

Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it. You take the bowl of avocado he’s made a mess with and put it aside with the toast, resting your arm on the counter, and leaning into his space. “Spencer, last night? You didn’t do anything to be embarrassed of. You were nice, and kind. You tried to open the car door for me and you almost lost your eye, but you were fine. You don’t have anything to be worried about, really.”

“But it’s you.”

“I’m not normal,” he says, remembering now.

You’re not normal, I’m not normal, you’d said.

But you’re perfect, he’d said.

To you. And you’re perfect to me.

“Right. We’re not normal, Spencer Reid, so forget that girl. She didn’t deserve you anyways,” you say.

You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again.

You turn away. “Now we should eat before everything goes cold.”

He watches your shoulders move, and he remembers one last detail. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do.

The way you’d said it… you couldn’t really mean…

“How’s your appetite? Still feeling sick?” you ask.

Spencer smiles to himself, the ghost of your touch glowing warm on his cheek. “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!!! please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate anything and it always inspires me to write more<3!! my requests are pretty much always open for bombshell!reader (even though this one strays a bit from their usual story haha) so if you wanna see more let me know❤️

#I ran out of space in the tags #putting this on the shelf #ANOTHER BANGER YOU NEVER MISS BESTIE #sometimes I wonder if I perhaps go a bit *too* crazy when I reblog things #but no. no I do not. if anything I do not go crazy enough #how else am I meant to convey how much I adore things? how else if not to scree and go batshit insane?#it's what I would want to receive so I am assuming everyone else is the same

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haitaniapologist · 3 years ago

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ONLY LOVE CAN HURT LIKE THIS.

pairings — king! shiba taiju x lady madarame! reader.

genre — angst, a bit of fluff, smut, enemies to lovers ish.

warnings — an unhealthy obsession with using dashes instead of commas, sentences with strange structures and grammatical errors because english isn’t my first language, yearning, mentions of domestic violence, death of a minor character, misogyny (not from taiju), shion is a pain in the ass, oral (m->f), a bit of breeding & size k*nk, a pregnancy. if i forgot anything let me know.

word counting — 14k

tagging — @tooweirdforyou @1900-aria @etheralyonn @lonnie19 @sincerelyraylene @chronic-claire-universe @sanzu-s @aqualesha @winterv-black @nanamis-wifey-reye @softbajis @crown5

notes — sobbing. the hold this man has on me, i swear. but!! this is the last part of the first batch of the royal aus, focusing on a knight and two kings. next one will probably start in late june, with izana, ran and baji! hoping you guys will enjoy <3

likes, comments, reblogs, asks, everything is appreacited !!! NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

“shion, for god’s sake, if you don’t stop shaking your leg, i will murder you.”

the carriage wasn’t small, far from it, but your husband was too huge for it — and, it seemed, he was the only one comfortable inside it. you were crumpled at his side, and you were almost puking by the close proximity. shion and hajime were sitting in front of you, poor koko having to deal with the king’s long and strong legs, and you were facing your brother — who, for a reason you didn’t understand, was nervous and bouncing his leg just to prolong your suffering.

shion averted his eyes to his king, an annoyed frown on his scarred lips. “will you let your wife speak like that to your most trusted counselor?”

taiju chuckled, and you wanted nothing more than to just strangle him. “y/n is your queen, she can speak as freely as she wants.” you hated how your name left his lips, but you looked smugly at your brother. “and your sister, too.” you didn’t fail to notice how gloom your husband seemed saying that — but it was his fault for losing his siblings.

“half sister.”

you couldn’t pretend you weren’t hurt by shion’s words. your emotions weren't in the best conditions since you and your husband attended king takeomi’s marriage. it seemed like destiny was rubbing with salt a wound in your skin, looking at the happy looking couple — you were happy for them, because they married for love, and you wished you could’ve had the same destiny. you were supposed to, at least. and shion had always been unnecessarily mean to you since your childhood, but you never cared. but you envied the queen of brahman, and you noticed how her life was what you’ve always dreamed about: a loving marriage and a good relationship with your brother.

you felt a warm hand on your face, and a thumb wiping some tears you didn’t know you were crying. “apologize, shion.” your husband’s deep voice resounded inside the carriage, and you unravelled yourself from his touch, heart racing.

you failed to notice the hurt on his face, but that was what he deserved, taiju supposed.

you were looking at the view outside the window, feeling shion’s feet nudge yours. “i am sorry, daisy.” you cringed at the sound of your childhood nickname — earned after you fell on a flowerbed of daisies trying to steal some jelly tarts when you were four. but before you could say anything, taiju spoke up again.

“daisy?” he asked with curiosity lacing his voice, and your eyes widened. you started to shake your head to shion, but the smile on his lips told you nothing would change his mind. even kokonoi seemed curious to know — he knew about your nickname, growing up alongside you and your cousins, but he never heard the story behind it.

“you see, my king.” smugness was lacing your brother’s voice, and you already felt the heat on your cheeks. “your wife fell in a flowerbed of daisies, after trying to steal fresh jelly tarts from the kitchen.” if you could, you would become one with the carriage cushion, your eyes throwing daggers at shion. how could he? he knew how much you hated taiju and how you didn’t want him to know anything about you.

you didn’t know who you hated more.

taiju’s soft laugh made your blood boil, and his hand on your thigh was like a burning ember on your skin. “daisy, huh?”

“do not ever call me that.” he only smirked at you, and before you could try to start an argument with him, kokonoi spoke up.

“since the four of us are in the same place without being at each other’s throats, why do not we discuss how our kingdom can take advantage of the war situation?”

“go on, kokonoi.” your husband commanded, the hand on your thigh squeezing your flesh. you tried to ignore the feelings rising up to your chest — you’ve hated him for the past six months since you, begrudgingly, said yes to being his wife, why now would it be different? taiju hadn't changed anything since the black dragon caravan arrived to takeomi’s wedding. he was the same rude, violent and ruthless man from before.

the same man who killed your mother even though he was betrothed to you since you were born.

—

being queen was easier than you expected.

after returning home from the trip to brahman, you had a few things to do. mainly regarding the charity places you supported through the country, or organizing the victory ball. your husband insisted black dragon had one, to show the people how well the country was with his rule. and you needed to admit — you never saw black dragon faring so well.

your uncle wasn't a good king, always drinking and playing cards to even care what was happening in his home, leaving the kingdom to be ruled by your late cousin, princess akane. she was good and kind, in contrast with her father, but she couldn't do much before he died. but both of them perished together in a fire in the summer palace of the royal family, on the same day your mother died, and your cousin seishu fled the kingdom before he could take the throne. and in a beautifully thought-out coup of etat, taiju was crowned king.

you sighed.

you didn't like to think about that day, two years ago. your whole world was shattered at your feet, and to see your mother's lifeless body resting in her bed after taiju, who was your betrothed at the time, delivered her — face and hands tainted with her blood — was like your worst nightmare coming true.

the gardener cleared his throat, and you blinked your eyes. oh — you were supposed to be making the decisions of the ball’s decoration. would it be a cruel joke if you chose daisies for the flowers decorating the ballroom? they were your favorite flowers, and used to be your mother's too. you shrugged at the garden, a thinking expression on your face. “daisies would be lovely. what about some water lilies, too? maybe the blue ones?” you suggested, the blue color representing the shiba dynasty.

you wondered when taiju's patience would break, and he would impregnate you.

it would be soon, you thought. he was getting more touchy day by day, and sometimes you woke up with him having an arm around your waist. maybe he was trying to get you comfortable with his touch, but his skin on yours always felt like a million needles were penetrating your skin at the same time. maybe if you didn’t see him carrying your mother’s lifeless body and with more blood on his clothes and skin than he was supposed to be for someone who just found her in the road, you would already be carrying his heir.

you sighed, dismissing the gardener. you didn't have anything else to do, now. the decorations of the ballroom was the last thing you needed to decide on, and now the preparations could fully start. you didn't have any meetings to attend to, and you knew your husband was only doing paperwork now. you pondered who you should pester — kokonoi or shion. you were still pissed with your brother from how he treated you and for revealing an embarrassing story of yours, so koko would it be.

he was in his office, of course. as the minister of the finances, he had a lot of work to do, but you were childhood friends — one year younger than him and seishu, you grew up as their honorary younger sister. it was simple times, and you missed them. now, you were married to the murderer of your mother, and hajime was still looking for your cousin.

his office was almost like your second home, and koko never cared about having your company. you would always help him in some matters he was struggling with, and you always made sure he took breaks from time to time. he never expected, however, that your husband would appear in his office exactly when you two were chatting excitedly about a new market trade koko managed to strike with toman.

“i hope i am not interrupting anything.” hajime knew what your husband was implying, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at your expression. when would you leave your state of denial, and finally accept that you loved taiju?

you always did, after all.

—

“mama.” you whispered, a hand holding tightly your mother's skirt. her kind blue eyes looked down at you while she examined the work the maids did on your big brother. shion hated to dress up to meet new people, and today the shibas were going to visit the madarames.

“yes, my daisy?” she whispered back, a warm hand cupping your cheek. you were already eight, and it seemed like it was yesterday when you were nothing but a baby that needed her for everything.

you felt your cheeks heat up, remembering shion's words. “brother said lord taiju won't like me.” it would be the first time you would be meeting your betrothed. he was two years younger than shion, and they seemed to be good friends — and your brother said he didn't like fierce girls like you, making you worried. lord taiju was supposed to be your knight in shining armor, but what if he didn't like you?

“nonsense, y/n.” your mother lightly scolded you, her eyes returning to shion's figure for a second. “you are beautiful, kind, and fun to be around. why would not he likes you?” she asked, wondering what her stepson told you.

“brother said he doesn't like fierce girls like me.” you admitted.

“well, then it will be his loss, alright?” you nodded, and she caressed your cheek. shion got ready as soon as the maids finished prepping him up, and you gripped your mother's hand, following her and your older brother to the meeting room, where your family would wait for the shibas to arrive.

when the guards announced the family, you hid behind your mother's legs — hearing the chuckles of her and your father. you could only see the legs and feet of the shibas, and you smiled, seeing a dress. maybe you could make a new friend. “i am sorry about my daughter. she is quite shy when meeting new people, and she is even more nervous now to meet her future husband.” your father explained and you heard shion’s sneer, and you huffed.

your mother turned in your direction, a smile adorning her lips. “go on, my daisy.” she encouraged you, and even shion was giving you something you thought to be a smile after your father scolded him.

as soon as you were out from your hiding spot, a bouquet of lilies was shoved in your face.

“taiju!” a feminine voice scolded him while you took the bouquet from your betrothed's hands, cheeks red, looking at him for the first time. the only boys you knew were shion, your cousin seishu and his friend hajime, but taiju was more beautiful than all of them.

you smiled, feeling a wave of boldness and kissing his cheek. “thank you, lord taiju!”

“i-it was nothing, lady y/n.”

—

you woke up suddenly, your body jolting from the laid position to a sitting one, hand on your chest. why were you dreaming of him? taiju couldn't leave you even alone in your dreams?

speaking of your husband, you could still feel his warmth from where he was sleeping, and you saw his silhouette getting ready to start the day. you didn't mean to ogle, far from that — but the flex of his back muscles, alongside the black cross tattoo he had on his skin, was hypnotizing to watch. as soon as he was ready, you pretended you had just woken up.

“good morning, wife.” he muttered while tying his boots.

you nodded. “morning.” you weren't supposed to be kind to him in private, but seeing his child version in your dreams made your heart soften, just a little bit. you remembered the day when you first met him fondly, and you wondered when everything changed — and why became such a monster. “where are you going?”

he raised a brow at your curiosity, and you just scoffed, getting up from the bed and walking towards your dressing table to fix your hair.

“i am going to pray in the chapel.” he answered, and you were at a loss for words. you knew your husband was religious and often did that, but today his actions seemed different. “i pray for your first ball as queen to go smoothly, y/n.” you wanted to wipe away from his face the soft smile he was giving you.

“thank you, husband.” you muttered while you watched him go by the mirror of your dressing table, sighing.

soon, your maids were to arrive to prepare you. it was ball day, so you were expected to check if everything was as you wanted, and to retire earlier from your queenly duties to get ready. you had a new dress and a new diamond necklace, courtesy of your husband, to use. you looked at yourself in the mirror, heart heavy — why were you missing your husband's voice telling you about what he had to do? why were you missing his company?

you pinched your arm, hissing at the pain. then, you slapped your cheeks, a scowl on your face.

a stupid dream wouldn't make your feelings change.

“my queen? is everything alright?” the main maid asked, and you felt the heat coming up to your cheeks. you didn’t notice when they arrived. the younger ones were trying their hardest to control their giggles, and you didn’t have the heart to scold them — you never did, after all.

“yes.” you answered, chuckling at the younger girls. “i am just nervous.”

they hummed, and you allowed them to start their ministrations, smiling at your image in the full length mirror they brought into the door. you ate breakfast with your brother, and something tugged your heart when you noticed taiju wasn’t inside the room — was he avoiding you? why was he doing that? shion scoffed at your face, and you kicked him under the table, but thanked the cook nonetheless.

“you are hopeless.” shion muttered, and you gave him a dirty look. what did he know? nothing. he was the one who firstly supported taiju on his claim to the throne and the one who said that your betrothal to him never ended, even if he was considered a traitor before your uncle died.

you turned to him, bringing a fresh strawberry to your mouth. “hopeless for what exactly, brother?”

shion just smirked at you, and you swore you wanted nothing more than to just take a butter knife and pierce it through his skin. you hated when he smiled at you like that, as if he knew more than you just because he was four years older than you. “when you are going to stop pretending you do not love taiju?”

you opened your mouth to say anything — either to deny or curse him — but nothing came from your mouth.

“see? you can not even deny it.” he smiled at you, and it seemed like your senses returned to your body. you kicked him under the table once more, abruptly getting up and gathering you skirt.

“i do not… l-love him.” that stupid smile didn't leave your brother's face, especially after when you suttered.

you left the dining room with shion's laugh intertwining itself in your legs, almost making you fall for how quickly you were taking to get away from him. throughout the day, your heart was hammering inside your ribcage and everyone could see how on edge you seemed to be, and you hoped they thought it was because you were nervous because of the ball.

you made sure everything was like you remembered. you tried to make the ball an almost copy of one your mother was the hostess when you were a teen — the color pallet for women was pastel and light colors, men weren't supposed to wear suit jackets, and the flowers were white. you added blue flowers to not hear taiju complaining, though. the food was delicious, with tasty delicacies and delicious sweets, and the music was on tune. you made sure that the orchestra was going to play all of your mother's favorites, and you remembered fondly how she and your father enjoyed dancing — they always reserved the first and last dance for each other.

time for lunch was near, and you asked your maids if they couldn't bring the lunch to your makeshift study room — your uncle didn't let your aunt have one, so you were using an old guest room as one until yours was finished — because you weren't ready to face your husband again. and you knew lunch was the only time you could spend on his company on a ball day, since after it you would spend the afternoon and a bit of the evening getting ready.

bathing, shaving, relaxing — your maids made sure that you received the best treatment after a quiet lunch, and you appreciated their effort. they always knew when you needed an extra shoulder massage or a gentler treatment. you liked to hear them talk about their day and life, and you wished yours could be simpler. you wished you had the guts to run away when seishu asked if you didn't want to go with him, but you couldn't leave shion behind.

maybe you should have.

you sighed, feeling the cold feeling of the silk hugging your skin. the light blue color of it accentuated the glow of your skin, and you needed to agree that the necklace taiju gave you was beautiful. you touched it softly with your fingertips while the main maid placed the crown atop of your head, your eyes meeting your husband's throughout the mirror. when did he arrive?

the maids promptly bowed and left the room when they noticed the king, and taiju leaned against the wall. you were still looking at your appearance in the mirror — you really looked like a queen.

“you are the most beautiful woman of this kingdom, daisy.” you made a strangled sound hearing the nickname coming from his mouth, and taiju chuckled. he was so lucky to have married you — even though you looked like you were going to a funeral on your wedding day.

you said nothing more, avoiding his gaze, and taiju expected it. he deserved it, actually — he wasn't able to save your mother, after all. and he was a monster, and he knew that very well. every time he looked at the empty seats besides him, which were destined to his siblings, he was reminded of how badly he treated them — threatening to kill the two people he loved most if they didn't agree to his claim to the throne.

your hand on his arm took him out of his thoughts, and you had a worried frown adorning your graceful features. “shall we go, husband?” he nodded, offering his arm to you.

his smell was intoxicating. you tried not to think how well he looked without formal clothing, just wearing a white blouse and black trousers, or how his hair seemed to glow below the golden crown. everyone inside the castle paused to look at you two walking — you and taiju were a stunning couple, and even though it seemed like being near him hurt you physically, it was still a beautiful sight to witness.

reaching the ballroom, you took a deep breath and the facade of a devoted and loving queen took over you. a guard announced you and your husband to those inside the room, and you could hear a few gasps. for many, it was the first time seeing the king and the queen together since the marriage, and you didn't want anyone talking about your relationship with taiju behind your back.

you gave your husband a puzzled look when he started to lead you to the dance floor instead of a social circle, and he smiled. “the first dance of a ball always belongs to us, y/n.”

such tradition wasn't one you knew about, but you didn't care if he was making it on the spot. if you two danced already, maybe he wouldn't ask for another one. you got in formation, one hand on his shoulder and the other intertwined with his, and a shiver ran down your spine of the feeling of his large one in the middle of your back.

the melody that started was a melancholic one, maybe not suited for newly-weds to dance, but it was one of your mother's favorites. taiju led you through the room, and you nervously looked at the faces observing you two. “eyes on me, daisy.” he commanded, but you didn't want to obey. you were on edge since you woke up, and being near his presence made your mind dizzy — but your eyes involuntarily found his golden ones, and you almost drowned in them. it was probably the first time you really looked at taiju in the eye since your mother died, and you understood why you stopped doing it. his eyes were mesmerizing, and they hypnotized you.

dancing with him never felt like that before.

you almost drifted your orbs to a point behind his face, but taiju only brought your body closer to his, as if he was for you to not break eye contact with him. you nodded almost imperceptibly, lips parting sightly. it took everything on taiju to not kiss them, but he knew he needed to go slow with you — at least, with you, he could still mend what he broke. and that was his fuel to wake up every day, even if you treated him as if he was the scum of the earth. he knew that after knowing the truth, you would find it in your heart to forgive him.

taiju hoped, at least.

the music ended with the piano, and he kissed your forehead, bowing to your dumbfounded self — who at least had the mind to mimic his actions — hearing the claps of the invited. soon the dance floor was crowded with people, and you were stolen by your brother. taiju smiled at the sight of you dancing with shion — it reminded him of him and yuzuha, in times when her first dance always belonged to him. he wondered how his siblings were faring in tenjiku. he had hoped he would see them in takeomi's wedding, but, if they attend it, they probably were hiding from their older brother.

the ball went smoothly. after your dance with shion, you found yourself surrounded by the influential ladies of the kingdom, who were showering you with compliments — from your appearance, to the food, to the decorations of the ball. almost all of them knew you from childhood, from monthly afternoon tea your mother used to attend. only one was hosted in your home, and your mother made sure to show them how beautiful her daughter had grown. when their husbands asked them for a dance, you found yourself in hajime's company. he was a fun person to be around in balls, always knowing the newest gossip of the kingdom. you, him and seishu used to hide behind the pillars to hear what people were talking about, giggling when they said something you three could gush to your mothers later.

however, as you chatted and giggled alongside koko, you felt as if you were being observed. it didn't take long for you to meet your husband's eyes, and the emotion dripping from them made you confused — why it seemed he was angry at you? you weren't doing anything to embarrass him. maybe the count he was talking with said something that wasn't of his liking? every subject knew how fickle taiju's mood was, even though he was a charismatic leader. you didn't try to think much about it, but kokonoi knew what was happening.

taiju was jealous.

ever since he saw you and koko inside his office, something changed in him. hajime noticed how more observant he was when you two interacted — and it seemed he was at his break point. hajime only hoped his vein wouldn't pop off, or he would be a dead man. the ball ended with taiju proclaiming a well written speech, exalting the allied nations on their courage to fight a usurper, and you almost snorted — he was a usurper, who used the fact he was betrothed to a cousin of the royal family to feign a claim to the throne that was absurd. but you kept your composure, smiling and clapping when it was necessary. you two were the last to arrive but the first to leave, but something seemed different in the walk back to your shared chambers. taiju seemed tense, and you wondered if what happened when you were talking with koko was still the reason.

as soon as the door closed behind him, taiju gripped your arm. “do not touch me.” you spat, and his grip tightened. but, surprising you, it wasn't with the intention to hurt. “i said for you to let—”

“are you cheating on me with kokonoi?” he cut your complaint, and your eyes widened. what was he talking about? “do not act surprised on me, y/n. i see how close you two are.” you expect to find anger in his eyes — as was expected of a man having suspicions of infidelity coming from his wife — but you only saw hurt. “tell me, woman.” he spat.

“you can not accept the fact that a man and a woman can be friends?” your voice was laced with venom, and you managed to get away from his grip. you didn't understand why his suspicions hurt so much — or the fact he called you woman instead of wife —- but you didn't want to be in the same room as him any more. how could he think you saw kokonoi as something more than a brother? yes, you gave all the reasons for taiju to think that someday you would do such a thing like cheating on him, but you accept your fate in a loveless marriage as soon as you walked down the aisle. “go away.” you murmured, tears burning your eyes.

“y/n…” taiju started, his heart breaking by being the cause of your tears. he messed up everything again, didn't he? he let his anger speak for himself, once more.

“i do not want to see you.” you wiped your tears, turning your back to him.

how did you think things could change between you two?

you sighed when you heard the door closing again, walking towards your dressing table to get ready to sleep. the tears already took all the small amount of makeup your maids applied on your skin, but you still had a few more things to do.

—

you wanted to sleep. but you couldn't.

taiju's eyes were haunting you. every time you tried to close your own, you saw his golden orbs — how intense they looked while you two danced, or the hurt and anger dripping from them. you didn't like it, and even though you were the only who said you didn't want to be in the same room as him, you noticed you couldn't sleep if he wasn't at your side.

the door to your shared chambers opened and you instantly closed your eyes, hearing taiju's footsteps. he stopped in front of you, gently tucking you inside the covers before going to get ready for bed, and you knew he was aware you were awake. you opened your eyes again, orbs following his very movement until he got under the covers too.

his hands found your waist, bringing your back to rest on his warm chest, and you felt a blush creeping to your cheeks while he intertwined your legs. your better judgment was telling you to scream and kick him, to demand him to not touch you, to leave you alone and treat you as if you didn't exist — but another part inside you, the little girl who received a bouquet of lilies from him when she was eight, wanted nothing more than to just bask in his warmth.

you listened to her.

“i am sorry, y/n.” taiju whispered against the skin of your neck. “i did not mean to upset you.” you just nodded, not knowing what to say. he didn't mean to, but he did upset you. just an apology wouldn't do much. “i just feel jealous because i know what we have is just in the papers.” you parted your lips when he pressed a kiss to your neck, a soft whimper escaping them. “and i am not brave enough to make it a real marriage.”

“taiju…” you whispered in the night, but his arms tightening their hold on your waist shut you.

“i will make you fall in love with me again, do not worry.”

—

you thought last night was a dream.

if your head was on its right place, you would never let taiju touch you like that. or even find comfort in his warmth and feeling safe between his arms. shion probably put something inside something you drank in the ball, you were sure of it.

but you woke with your face facing taiju's shirtless chest, one of his hands on your lower back and the other on your waist, keeping you firmly inside the cage he made with his arms. your faces were centimeters away, and you could see all the small freckles his skin had — or the curve of his nose, or the baby hairs growing on his scalp. it was the closer you had even been near him, and when you noticed his eyelids fluttering, you hid your face on the crook of his neck, pretending to be asleep.

taijj changed his position, bringing you with him — now he was facing the ceiling and your head was on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. the hand on your lower back was still there, but the one on your waist went to your head, stroking your hair. “i know you are awake, y/n.” taiju chuckled when he felt you huffing. “good morning.” you nodded, feeling too embarrassed to say anything else. you opened your eyes, being met with the sight of taiju's tattooed chest once more, but you could feel how his heart was beating differently. was he nervous? “morning…” you whispered, trying to get a view of the curtains to try to see how many hours you two slept. the feeling of his large hand stroking your curls was almost soothing, and maybe a day off — without him, of course — would be good. but taiju wasn't moving, and maybe he had the same idea as you. “i will call it a day off.” you made your intentions known, hoping he would get the hint.

“i was thinking about doing the same thing.” you weren't looking at him, but you knew he was smirking. you just rolled your eyes in annoyance.

“this is hard to believe, husband.” you knew how taiju was committed to his work as king, and a day off was something you never saw him taking since you married him six months ago. you tried to move from his hold, but he only held you tight, manoeuvring your body so you were laying on top of him. he was too warm — and you rested your face on his chest, his fingers going up and down on your spine. “i never saw you taking a day off.”

taiju hummed. “did not i say last night that i would win your love back?" you felt your cheeks heat up at the remembrance of what he said. “how will i do it if i spend the whole day in the office?”

“alright.” you answered embarrassed, and taiju kissed your hair, before manoeuvring your body back to the bed.

you watched as he got up and stretched, eyes ogling his back once more. you hid your face in the covers, avoiding looking at his naked chest. “i will tell a maid to bring us breakfast here, is that alright with you?”

“yes.” you answered, taking the covers out of your eyes, your orbs following taiju as he put a robe around his broad shoulders. “tell her to bring jelly tarts, please?” you asked, heart hammering inside your ribcage when taiju smiled down at you. it wasn't fair that his smiles were so stunning — you were supposed to be hating him, and not thinking such things.

you waited until he was out of the bedroom to get up from the bed, sitting on your dressing table. you didn't have much to do while you waited for him to come back with breakfast — you were sure the first poor servant he found would probably have a nosebleed seeing their king like that — and while you could brush your hair, you didn't want to try to do it again and be scolded by your maid.

soon, taiju was back with a few servants, and all of them were already blushing — and you watched as how redder their cheeks got when they saw you in nothing but a white nightgown. you knew what everyone was thinking about. maybe an heir was being made, finally.

but they weren't, and you didn't know if they would ever be made.

breakfast was pleasant. you ate your loved jelly tarts, and tried not to blush when taiju’s finger wiped a bit of jelly that stayed near your lips. it had been ages since you had a proper conversation with him, and it was a pleasant surprise to see that he wasn’t such a horrible company. he almost made you laugh twice, and you tried as you could to not let the giggles escape your lips. and it seemed as if he wanted to hear you laughing, making it his mission to hear your sweet laughter.

you spend the rest of your day with him. taiju made sure that no one would be bothering you, especially koko or your brother, and you two did things suited for couples — a stroll in the gardens, lunch on the balcony, horse riding and a little picnic. through the whole day, you felt yourself torn between two. the first half was the one who saw taiju carrying your mother's lifeless corpse, his whole body bloodied and guilty dancing in his eyes, the one who watched with anger on the eyes as taiju crowned himself after, probably, being the responsible for your cousin and uncle's death. the other half, however, was the little girl who wanted nothing than to marry him, and the woman who didn't want to have a loveless marriage.

every time you felt taiju's lips on your skin, or you heard his laugh, you knew the second half was winning. and you were angry at yourself for that — you had promised that you would never love him, that he would die before he saw a child being born out of your marriage. where was that girl? was she really going to be bought with kind words and sweet smiles?

such thoughts were plaguing you even when taiju had his arms against you once more, your back to his chest and his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck, sound asleep.

was you really falling in love with him? has this feeling always been inside you, but you never acted on them?

—

someday you would murder shion, you were sure of it.

he was the first one to notice how yours and your husband's relationship changed, and the smug smile on his lips was infuriating. why he always needed to be right? why, for just one time in your life, couldn’t you be the one giving him such a smile?

“do not even try to say something.” you said as soon as taiju left the dining room, after kissing your forehead and saying he would have a busy day, but you would always be in his mind. it was the first time he did that, and you thought it was because he felt you were more comfortable in his presence. and you were, in fact. it had been a few days since the night of the ball, and sometimes you even missed taiju when he needed to work late and couldn't be with you until you fell asleep. it was embarrassing, how dependent you became on his warmth to be able to sleep properly.

shion’s smile just grew bigger. “if you listen to your big broth—”

“oh, now i am not just your half sister?” even though it was just a friendly banter, your words held a bit of hurt in them.

“as i was saying.” shion gave you a dirty look, and you rolled your eyes. “if you listened to your big brother, you would not be in such a situation.” you raised a brow at him, wanting to know more of his well of wisdom. “i always told you that your hatred towards taiju was just a façade of love.”

you averted your eyes from his gaze, lowering it until it was on your plate. yes, shion told you that, but… but did taiju really have feelings for you? he acted as if he had, but what if he was only doing things so you two could consume your marriage and you get pregnant? you knew how manipulative he could be, but you didn’t want to believe that his feelings for you weren’t a real thing. “and?”

“i was right, was not i? i always am.” shion chuckled, seeing your flustered expression.

you got up, extending your hand towards your brother. “i think we should get going to our duties. we have a meeting together today, brother.”

shion got up as soon as your feet touched the ground, an arm sneaking around your shoulders and bringing you to an embrace. you didn’t understand why he was getting so affectionate, but maybe it was your mother’s death anniversary coming. both you and him got pretty emotional when the date was coming up, and that could only be the explanation for his actions. or he was happy you and taiju were getting along? he and your husband were childhood friends, and you wondered what taiju was telling him. “you always change the subject when i start talking about your feelings, do not you, daisy?”

“do not call me that.” you barked, starting to walk with your arms hugging your brother by his torso.

“why not, daisy?” he teased, and you pinched his waist, making him gasp.

“because i said so. i am your queen, you should respect me.”

you giggled at the expression on his face. “how can you be queen before me being king? that is unfair.”

“then marry taiju. i will gladly divorce him if that means you will be his husband.”

“as if.” shion had a disgusted expression on his face. the idea of being married to taiju was a cursed one — he wasn’t against the idea of having an affair with a man, but with taiju? no. the king was like a little brother to him. “whenever he will fuck me, he will be moaning your name.”

“s-shion!” you felt your cheeks hot and tried to stop to scold your older brother, but he kept walking, dragging you with him towards the room you would be meeting some nobles from the region you were born. they were nobles who were against the claim of your husband to the throne, staying faithful to taiju because he was married to you, someone who had inui’s blood flowing through your veins. you knew the talks would be centered about an heir, and you didn’t know if you would be able to endure them. of course, you didn’t want a rebellion to take place in your childhood home, but those nobles were only thinking about the privileges they had when your uncle was king — privileges which taiju took from them to give to others, who supported him since the beginning.

you were right about the meeting, but shion proved to be more understanding of your feelings. he defended your integrity of those disrespectful men — saying that you were still getting adjusted to queen’s life, and you wanted to be more suitable to the role before having a child to call yours.

after that meeting, you had a few other meetings to attend — most of them regarding the charity organizations you were the patron of, or with the staff of the castle. it was a busy day, and you hoped to see your husband at dinner, but it was just you, shion and hajime. the two almost laughed at your disappointed pout, but entertained you with stories of their day, maybe taiju was already in your shared room, probably too tired because of his day.

but he wasn't there, and when your maid left you — after helping you to get ready to sleep — you were left alone in a room that was supposed to be for two. you knew where your husband was, and you left the room tiptoeing, so nobody would suspect anything and follow you.

the walk to taiju's study was quicker than you expected. no encounters with maids or needing to hide — it seemed as if the universe wanted you to find him. you rolled your eyes when you saw the light coming from the door. of course, he was working late. he was doing that more and more, and while you admired his passion for his work, you were quite worried too. it wouldn't be good for his health to do that all the time.

what you didn't expect to find, however, was your husband sound asleep on his desk.

you closed the door carefully, walking towards him with careful steps. you never saw him sleeping — taiju always awoke before you and went to sleep after you, and that was a rare sight. he looked more peaceful without his signature frown on his face, and your fingers softly traced his features. his sharp nose, his angled cheekbones, his chin. taiju was a beautiful man, and you knew how many women — and men, too — badly wanted to be his mistress. but taiju would die before thinking about humiliating you like that.

you huffed, just thinking about that. he would never dare to do that to you — but it was just a hypothesis of something that could happen and, if shion's words were true, your husband loved you more than you thought. a smile made its way to your lips at the thought, and you bent down to press a chaste kiss to his forehead.

“taiju, husband.” you shook his shoulder, watching as his eyelids fluttered, and he opened his golden eyes, being met with your figure looming over his body.

you looked like an angel on taiju's eyes, and your face became red with the intensity of his glare. “i… why are you here, daisy?” he asked with sleep lacing his voice, his head still resting on the desk.

“it's late, taiju. you need to sleep.” you responded, offering your hand to him. “come.” authority was dripping from your voice, and taiju wasn't a fool to not do as he was told, getting up from his chair and intertwining your fingers with his.

you led him through the castle's corridors towards your shared chambers, and taiju followed you like a lost puppy. he was so tired, that he could sleep on the ground if you left him there to walk alone. he knew he was working more than he should, but the kingdom needed him all the time — he was worried about some intern threats from lords that were against his rule, and maybe he should've expect that to happen at least once.

too lost in his thoughts, taiju didn't notice when you two arrived in your chambers, you making him sit down on the bed and helping him get rid of his day clothes, handing him a clean pair of pajamas. “thank you, y/n.” he thanked you by kissing your hand, and you averted your gaze from his tattooed chest to the bed.

“it is nothing, taiju. just come to bed already.”

a chuckle escaped his lips at your reaction while he changed, and you just sneered at him in retaliation. you were too adorable for your own good, and taiju didn't know how much more he could live without kissing your lips senseless until he made you dumb and quiet, no more quick responses to anything he had to say.

you bit your lips when you felt his weight on the bed, but taiju's next words took you by surprise. “can you… can you hug me tonight instead, y/n?”

you turned your body towards him, seeing you defeated he looked. it wasn't easy to rule a kingdom, and you would do anything to not see such look on your husband's face again — as if the stress and his duty were like arrows piercing through his skin. you nodded, opening your arms to him and taiju promptly scooted closer to you, hugging you by the waist. his head found its comfort on your chest, and your hand started to stroke his hair.

“thank you, y/n.” taiju whispered, his voice muffled by your nightgown. he placed a kiss on your collarbone, and you shivered, but you only tightened your hold around him. “i lo— i appreciate this.”

was he… was he going to say what you thought? but before you could ask, you smiled to yourself, seeing taiju sleeping face once more.

—

as the days went by, your marriage to taiju was becoming more and more a real thing.

you decided to stop fighting with that part of yourself that hated him. you had never been happier in your life — everything seemed to be working in your favor, and even your relationship with your brother improved. you two still bantered a lot — that would never change — but shion seemed to be more considerate of your feelings, and you were more touchy with him, just like when you two were younger. taiju stopped being jealous of kokonoi, and you two only became closer — you held him while he cried for his love for your cousins, and he heard your conflicted feelings for your husband.

but, something that was still bothering you, was the lack of your study. you needed to have an office for yourself, even though there were plenty of rooms that you could use. but you wanted something that was yours and not someone else’s, a place that would be sacred for you, that you felt safe within its walls.

“where are you leading me to, husband?” you asked, while your husband had a firm grip on your hand, your eyes covered by a black piece of cloth.

“it’s a surprise, daisy. i can not tell you yet.” he answered, mischief lacing his words like vines, and you pouted. you hated surprises — you hated not knowing what was going to happen, and the feeling of anticipation when someone did what your husband was. “your pout will not make me indulge in your desires, y/n.”

you huffed and taiju chuckled.

you two walked in silence for a few more moments before your husband stopped, his presence now behind you, his hands coming to undo the lace behind your head. you opened your eyes, blinking them to get used to the light, looking puzzled at a door. “so?” you asked, turning your head to look at taiju’s looming figure in your back, his hands now on your shoulders.

“open it.” you did what you were told, and you almost broke down in tears.

it was a study room, beautifully decorated with everything you liked. the walls were of a mint green color, with paintings of nature and flowers, as well as tall bookshelves filled with the most variety of books. a big mahogany table was placed in front of a beautiful window, with its view to the garden. “it is all yours.” taiju whispered against your ear, pushing you to enter more into the room. you spinned around, giggles coming from your mouth — until you saw it. a painting of your family, that used to be in your father’s study back at your home.

you remembered the day your father commissioned it. you were twelve, shion was sixteen, and you two had a big fight before the painter arrived. you cried in your mother’s arms the whole time, telling her the horrible things your brother told you — that you were just his half sister, that you were an annoying little girl that would never be loved by her husband, that as soon as he became duke, he was going to break your betrothal to taiju and would ship you off to a foreign nation to never see you again. she just held you, but when your father called the family to pose, you saw how red shion’s ears were. after the painter went away, he asked for forgiveness — and you said how sorry you were too, since you were pestering him about learning how to fight. in the end, he gave you a piggyback ride to the training grounds and taught you how to defend yourself from creepy men, your mother smiling fondly at you two when dinner time arrived and you were both disheveled and sweaty.

you just noticed you were crying when you felt taiju’s fingers wiping the tears from your cheeks. “did you like it?” he asked, a worried frown on his face. you just nodded, eyes widen and mouth slightly agape due to his close proximity. “yes?” you nodded again, feeling as one of his hands came to rest in the back of your head and the other cupped you cheek, his thumb caressing your lips. your hands gripped his dress shirt and yanked him down to bring him closer, your eyes flicking from his eyes to his lips for a brief second before his lips crashed over yours.

the kiss tasted of tears and something bittersweet, as if none of you two thought it was real. you have wondered what kissing taiju would feel since forever, but your imagination could never be compared to reality. it seemed he was torn in between treating you like glass or kissing you like he truly wished you, and a tug on his shirt was enough to snap him out of it. taiju broke the kiss and lifted you up, his eyes never leaving yours. they were two little suns shining in your sky, and you were willing to pay the price of looking at them — just like that story of the boy who flew so close to the sun and died, you were willing to burn just to stay looking at them.

your husband placed you on top of your new desk, and he still towered over you. his lips were ghosting yours, and a shiver ran down your spine when he whispered against them. “daisy.” you hated the nickname, you really did, but the way they left taiju’s lips was sweeter than anything else. “my daisy.”

you nodded. “all yours.”

it was the confirmation he needed to kiss you once more, this time more brutal than the first time, teeth clenching with each other and hands roaming over your body. yours were on his hair, dishevelling it as much as you could, to show everyone inside that bloody castle that taiju belonged to you and only you — you did not seek fire, but your heart was aflame from what you felt for him. such feeling was not from earth, no. it was something else, something that burned without being seen, that made your skin turn upside down.

you broke the kiss in search for air, and taiju’s lips attached themselves to your neck, his hands grabbing your thighs. he sucked the sensitive skin of your neck, and you let a whimper from the feeling, at the same time the door opened.

“oh my god.” you heard shion’s voice and your face heated up, heart racing from shame. “i— you were trying to fuck my sister on her study?” shion asked dumbfounded, and you hid yourself behind taiju, who turned around to face your brother with the same intention. “never mind.” your brother answered himself, a disgusting expression on his face. “just… when you are ready, come to your study because we have some matters to discuss.”

your brother exited the room quickly, and your husband turned his body to face you once more. “duty calls, my daisy. but stay here, i will be back soon.”

you nodded, chasing taiju’s lips once more. this time, he managed to restrain himself, just giving your sweet ones a peck. as soon as taiju was out of your study, you started to explore it, after trying to rearrange your appearance. you knew the delicate hairstyle your maid did in the morning was now ruined, so you let your hair loose — it was sometimes a bother, but you enjoyed not having so much pressure on your head. you smiled, noticing that the paint of your family was in the walls across from your desk. you knew that whenever you felt down or not worthy of your position, your mother and father would remind you why you were there.

you explored everything you could, discovering all the little secrets inside your study, and your husband wasn’t back. maybe it was just like last night, and he caught himself trapped with work, so you decided to make him a visit. but you wished you had not.

arriving at taiju’s study, you noticed the door slightly ajar, and you could hear your brother’s and taiju’s voices, both of them sounding annoyed at something, and you hoped they weren't fighting.

“they demand what?” taiju asked, and you furrowed your browns.

“an heir.” shion answered, and you felt your heart drop to your stomach. you didn’t… you didn’t feel ready to be a mother yet. last month you were cursing and hating taiju, not wanting to acknowledge your true feelings for him, and you didn’t even know if taiju felt the same yet. “they say they will only accept your claim when you impregnate my sister, then the next ruler will be of inui blood too.”

taiju sighed. “why they think i married your sister?” he asked, for no one in particular, and you didn’t see how shion’s eyes widened. “for her good locks? of course not. because of her claim, and just for that.” the king passed a hand through his face. “and i am trying to consummate my marriage, but your sister is more stubborn than i thought.”

you couldn’t hear anything more of their conversation. was everything a lie? when he said he would make you fall in love with him? all the touches, the smiles, the late night chats. the kiss — was the intensity of that kiss just a lie? was taiju trying to seduce you so you could give him a child? you felt sick, at the verge of throwing up everything you ate at breakfast and lunch. tears glossed over your vision, and you ran from there, your feet taking you to your chambers. you couldn’t believe you fell for his trick — you should’ve listened to the side of you that told yourself to hate him, to despise him until the end of his days, and not the naive little girl that wanted nothing more than to be loved by him.

“is that… is that true?” shion asked, quite dumbfounded. he was ready to punch taiju if he said that yes, he only married you because of your family bond to the former royal family. “you only married my sister because of her claim?”

“of course not, shion. i love y/n more than anything in this world. even if she didn’t have inui blood, she would still be my queen.”

—

you didn’t appear for dinner, and taiju was worried.

the maid told him you were in bed, not feeling well, and that scared him. what if he scared you away because of the kiss? what if you still hated him and didn’t want that? everyone could see how tense the king looked without the queen inside the room, and koko and shion wondered if something happened between the two of you. when they finally thought they would have peace from taiju’s pinning and after you and your bratty ways to not accept your feelings, it seemed everything returned to zero scale.

he couldn’t even eat properly, his plate almost untouched when taiju announced he would retreat to his chambers. he almost runned there, the dread on his stomach making him wanting to see you only growing stronger. and as soona s he opened the door and heard your sobs, he knew something was really wrong. did someone say nasty things to you? just the thought made his blood boil, and he approached you on the bed, curled up and crying your heart out. taiju kneeled beside you and started to wipe some of your tears.

“do not touch me.” you meekly said, and he gave you a puzzled look. you did nothing to take his hand from your face. “i told you to not touch me, taiju.” this time, however, you rolled on the bed and got up, his presence being too much for you to handle.

“what happened, y/n?” he asked, a worried frown on his face, and you laughed. he felt his heart break by your actions, as if you didn’t believe he was worried about you and your well-being. but he needed to know what happened, and he felt an unbridled rage just like… just like his siblings defied him. he swore he would never do that again — taiju understood how wrong his actions towards them, of slapping or punching them when he was upset, seeing how shion treated you. many times he saw you being a brat towards him, and he never did anything. but the king noticed that too late, and when he was ready to apologize and try to start over, his siblings fled the kingdom like they were criminals.

and to feel that, again, but towards you was something that made him sick. and you noticed a change in his behavior, too, and the fear in your eyes made him want to slap himself. no, you should never fear him — he would never do anything to you. he unclenched his fists. “please, tell me, daisy.”

“do not call me that!” you screamed, more tears flowing down your face. “you have what you want now, no? you made me fall for you and think you loved me, too.”

what? what were you saying?

“the last step was getting me pregnant, was not it? but now i know… now i know everything was a lie.” you laughed again, and the dread on taiju’s stomach only grew. did you hear what he said to shion? that couldn’t be true. he said he loved you, too. why didn't you believe that? “you are truly a monster, taiju. i do not know how i could think i loved you.”

“y/n, please, this is not what you are thinking.” he tried, feeling his voice quiver with unshed tears. you had already treated him as if he was the scum of the earth, as if he was the worst person alive, and it didn’t hurt as much as it was now.

“i do not want to hear anything from you, taiju. from now on, we will sleep in separate rooms and i do not want to hear from you ever again.” you made your intentions clear, even through tears. “i will give you your desired heir. but after you impregnate me, you will not ever touch me again.”

not, that couldn’t be happening. when he thought you were finally opening himself for him, when he thought you would finally be happy at his side, everyone crumbled. he watched powerless as you exited the room, but taiju needed to fight — he couldn’t let you walk away, like he did with his siblings.

but as soon as you heard his footsteps, you started to run.

“y/n, please!” please, believe me. please, have faith in my love for you.

“go away!” you turned to look at him, not noticing how close the stairs were — but taiju did.

the scream of your name got stuck on his throat as he saw you tripping in the stairs’ steps and taiju ran, thinking he could have reached you before something worse happened, but you had already fallen all the steps.

it seemed like the world had stopped around him as he watched your unconscious body in the end of the stairs — would he lose you too? he watched his mother dying, your mother dying. was lady destiny punishing him for his past actions? was everyone he loved going to leave him, until he was all alone in the world and bitter and broken?

a screaming maid broke his line of thought and he ran towards you, cradling your face on his lap. he hugged your body, feeling your warm blood wetting the hand that was on the back of your head. “call a doctor now, you useless shit!” he screamed at a servant, who promptly runned down the halls to venture himself in the city in search of the royal doctor. “do not leave me, please, y/n.” taiju whispered.

“i will gladly trade my life for yours, my love. but do not die on me like your mother did, please.”

—

as soon as the doctor arrived, taiju left you with shion and kokonoi. he couldn’t see you like that — pale, without your signature smile gracing your lips and heavy limbs. the walk to your chambers with your body nestled in his arms was the worst walk he ever did in his life, your blood drying on his skin and the fear of losing you forever by a silly mistake he did.

he felt like the same boy who watched as his mother perished day by day on her bed, from an unknown disease that no doctor knew how to cure, who watched his father losing himself to his own greediness, who watched as his sister curling her body on their younger brother’s to prevent him from taiju’s violence. the man who watched as you cried on your mother’s lifeless body like a little girl, asking her to not leave you.

it hurt, but he was used to it.

he sighed while he cleaned his hands, watching the water getting a reddish color due to your blood. he could just wait for when you woke up, and he did that by working. taiju knew it wasn’t a healthy coping mechanism — he should be there with you, like a good husband, but if you died, he wished for his last memory of you to be you alive, even if you were screaming at him.

a knock on his door made him raise his head from some papers, his heart skipping a beat at shion’s figure.

“she is awake.”

a wave of relief passed through taiju’s body, and he felt something warm on his cheeks. was he crying? the last time he cried was at his mother’s funeral, ten years ago. he made a promise back then, the promise to not let him get hurt by someone else ever again — and you made him break it. he rested his head on his hands, sobs taking control of his body. taiju should feel ashamed to be seen by a subject of his crying like that — but shion was your brother, and his too.

“my mother… my mother used to say it is unthinkable to find someone like y/n is to you. someone… you love.” he felt shion’s hands on his shoulders, a smile on his scarred lips. “i know she does not want to see you, but i will speak on your behalf. do not worry.”

taiju nodded, but before shion could go away, he gave him a piece of paper, that was resting heavy on his desk. what if you died without reading your mother’s last words? “you two need to read it, please.”

shion nodded, taking the piece of paper from his king’s hands and walking back to you.

even though you didn’t want to see taiju, you wished he was walking behind your brother when he entered your room. your head was hurting and you felt a bit dizzy, but you were fine. you just scared everyone, like you used to do when you were a child — you were always falling from places and getting nasty bruises. this one was one of the lightest you ever had, but you lost a bit of blood on your husband’s lap, as the doctor said.

your brother took the seat he was occupying when you woke up, an unfamiliar piece of paper in his hands. “what is this?” you asked, trying to conceal your disappointment in not seeing your husband.

“taiju said we need to read it.” he handed it to you, and you opened it, seeing a familiar calligraphy. “it is from mother.” you gave him a puzzled look — it was taiju’s one, not your mother’s.

“can i… can i read it?” you asked, and shion nodded.

“my dearest children,

if this reaches you, it means i am no longer breathing. i am sorry — a mother should only leave their child to themselves when she feels they are completely ready to face the horrors of this world, and while i know shion is, my little daisy needs me still. maybe i am saying this selfishly because i want to see you marrying this fine lord who is writing this for me. i am sure you two will be a beautiful couple, who will give me beautiful grandchildren — even though i will not be here to meet them.

do not blame taiju when he arrives with my dead body. he was not the one who killed me — but rather, your uncle’s men. poor taiju even tried to save me, but i can feel my life spilling from my hands like sand. i do not have much time, and i hope this letter will explain everything.

your uncle, the king, he changed. we all knew how corrupt the court is, but he promised me he would change it for the better when he was crowned king. but greed and power took him over, like it did to my father and grandfather too, and he broke the promise. me and your father were aiding the shibas in overthrowing him — y/n, your engagement to taiju is one to make his claim to the throne stronger, but believe me when i say he loves you. i am happy to die knowing i will leave you in his safe hands.

i know my death will bring pain for both of two. but it’ll pass — even though you will not imagine a day when this pain will release its hold on you, someday it’ll fade. and you will remind me like i was, with my gentle touches and loving words. i will forever be your mother, no matter how many years it passes or if your father marries someone again.

you both are my pride and joy. shion did not come from my womb, but it feels like he did — my love for him is not different from the love i feel for y/n. i love you both the same, and i wish for you two to stop fighting over silly things. you are brother and sister, and there is not a more beautiful bond to exist in this world.

this is my last wish: be happy.”

you finished the letter with a quivering voice, holding back your sobs.

“mother, she…” shion started, sitting in the bed and passing his arms through your quivering form. tears were streaming down his face too, and he kissed your hair — he was used to pain. it wasn’t easy growing up knowing the woman you called mother wasn’t the woman who gave birth to you, and sometimes he wondered how his life would be if his birth mother didn’t die in his birth. he wouldn’t have you as his sister, and he couldn’t imagine his life without your annoying yet lovable self at his side. “she was thinking about us in her final moments.”

you hugged shion tightly, trying to process your mother’s words. you knew that your uncle wasn’t the best man in the world, but to kill his own sister? even though she could be considered a traitor, they still shared the same blood — you uncle watched you mother grow, was the one walked her down the aisle, and still had in his heart to order his men to kill her?

“why taiju did not say anything?” you asked quietly, the pieces still trying to find their other halfs inside your head. you have spent two years hating taiju for something he didn’t do and he knew that — yet, he said nothing. that could’ve saved you from at least one heartbreak, and from a horrible marriage day. but maybe the heartbreak from now would hurt so much more, knowing he only married you for your claim to the throne — and even though your mother said he loved you, people could change. what if you weren't like taiju expected? what if the hate you held for him made him stop loving you?

shion sighed. “you will need to ask him that, i suppose.”

“i do not think…” you started, nuzzling your face on his shoulder like you used to do when you were children and he let you sleep with him when you were too afraid of the monsters under your bed — fear acquired by a prank he did. “i do not think he loves me anymore or wants to see me again after how badly i treated him, brother. and it hurts.”

only love could hurt like this, and you felt like a fool for only noticing the nature of your feelings towards your husband now.

“nonsense, daisy.” shion tried to reassure you, cupping your cheeks. “i never saw a man so in love with a woman like taiju loves you. he is even worse than father.” you chuckled, remembering all the corny displays of love your father did to your mother — you always laughed at them, but you knew you shouldn’t settle with anyone that didn’t treat you like lord madarame did to his wife. “i know you heard us talking earlier today.” you nodded, remembering taiju’s words. “but i asked him if that was true, because if it was, i would kill him.”

you giggled. you knew shion was like a dog that only barked but did no biting, and taiju could easily win against him in a fight.

“you wound me, you know?” you giggled once more and shion pinched your cheek, like he used to do. “when i asked, he said he loved you, too. if you stayed for two more seconds behind the door, you would hear that too.” shion smiled seeing your eyes widen, and he let go of you. “go to your husband, little sister. i want to be an uncle, you know.”

“and i, an aunt.” you teased back, getting up from your bed. “thank you, shion. you know i love you, right?”

“of course. who wouldn’t love the great shion madarame?”

“forget i said anything.” you giggled, opening the door and venturing yourself in the castle’s corridors once more.

“i love you too, daisy!” you heard your brother screaming, and you smiled to yourself. your relationship with your brother improved in those weeks, and you couldn’t be more grateful. it hurt when he was mean and rude towards you, and while you knew that shion’s personality was like that, you missed the playful and funny shion from your childhood.

by now, you knew the walk to taiju’s study by heart, but you weren’t expecting to find guards outside its door. you smiled at them. “may i speak with my husband?”

“the king said he doesn’t want anyone bothering him until tomorrow’s morning.” oh, so taiju was working late. you knew the guards wouldn’t let you go inside, so a plan formed itself inside your head. it could backfire if taiju took your words by heart and won’t ever touch you again, but you needed to ask for his forgiveness for not believing in his love for you.

you started to scream, asking for your husband’s help.

the guards looked at each other, shocked. why was their queen doing that? nothing was happening, you didn’t need to scream for help.

but it worked, and taiju promptly opened the door after your first ‘taiju, please, help me!’. his hair was dishevelled, as if he had passed his hand through it more times than he was supposed to, and his eyes widened, saying that everything was okay. “what… exactly is happening here?” he thought you were in danger somehow, but seeing you well and walking brought another wave of relief over him.

you smiled sheepishly at him. “the guards did not let me talk to you.” you explained the situation, and taiju brought you closer to him, his touch as light as a feather, afraid that you would snap off what was happening inside your mind and start screaming at him once more.

he frowned down at them. “whenever your queen demands something from you, you will do exactly what she said, do you hear me? even if it goes against my orders.” they nodded, and taiju closed the doors of his study, heart hammering. you were there either to crush his heart even more, or to mend it back to a functioning one.

the silence inside the room was broken by your voice. “why you did not tell me about my mother?” you asked, standing in the middle of the room while taiju was still close to the door. if anything happened, he would not let you walk away. “you… you let me hate you for two years while you knew my feelings were built over a lie?”

“because i deserve your hatred. i still do.” he admitted, eyes trying to imprint your figure inside his brain. “i could not save your mother, i was a horrible brother, too. i am nothing but a monster, y/n, and it was foolish of me to think such a beautiful creature like yourself could love me.” you opened your mouth to speak, but taiju cut you. “i could say anything because the king was still alive. and when he died, i just… i do not know.” he admitted, passing a hand through his hair once more.

your next words took him by surprise. “i do not know what transpired between you and your siblings, but i can help you.” you offered, walking towards him. “and i… i love you.” you admitted, stopping in front of him — just a lift from his hands and he would be touching you. and he did that, his hand found its place in the curve of your neck. your words made him feel like that little boy who gave you a bouquet of lilies all those years ago again. “i need to ask for your forgiveness. i doubted if you really loved me, and that is the worst sin a wife can commit.”

“and i forgive you.” he answered, curling down to kiss your lips once more. you sighed in the kiss, your hands finding support on his shoulders, as you were tiptoeing to be able to reach his lips — was taiju ever been that big?

the softness of the kiss was broken when you felt taiju’s tongue breaking into between your lips, and the moan that left your mouth prompted him to go rougher with you, his free hoisting you up to bring you to his desk — he was going to finish what he tried to start inside your study.

you broke the kiss still being carried by him, your lips attaching themselves to the tattoo on his lips, kissing and sucking the skin there. taiju gently put your body on his desk, and you spreaded your legs to accommodate his body between them. but before he could chase your lips again, a finger of yours gently ghosted over his lips, making him look at you, puzzled. “kneel.” you commanded, and he understood what you wanted.

and he would gladly do that.

you couldn’t see what taiju was doing because his head was buried inside your dress’ skirt, but you could feel his hot fingertips rubbing your thighs and ghosting over your clothed cunt, making you hold back a moan. “do not hide your sounds from me, wife.” it was his time to command, and you nodded, gasping when you felt him yanking your underwear away.

you didn’t hold back when you felt taiju’s tongue giving your folds an experimental lick, and your moans seemed to be the confirmation he needed to continue. it was a new feeling — the only sexual encounter you had was at eighteen with a stable boy, but he used his fingers instead of his mouth. and now it was so much better, and you didn’t know if it was because it was taiju doing it, or because you preferred when men used their tongues.

“t-taiju.” you moaned when his tongue entered your hole and his nose started to nudge your clit, and soon you were coming undone on his mouth — but he couldn’t get away from it, no. he finally had the taste of something he thought he would only see on his dreams, and he wouldn’t let you go so easily.

you started to squirm, and he planted his fingers on your tights, to keep you still, his tongue starting to play with your clit. his cock was sitting heavy and uncomfortable on his trousers, but taiju felt the urge to make you feel good before he would seek his own pleasure. he knew he would have the nights and all days from now on to teach you how to pleasure him, and while he couldn’t wait to feel your mouth around his shaft, but your clenching cunt was bewitching him.

you came for the second time on his tongue, and it seemed his hunger was finally satisfied. emerging from the confines of your skirt, taiju thought you were the most beautiful sight he ever saw — with glossy and disoriented eyes, cheeks ready and hair clinging to your forehead because of sweat. he wasn’t much different from you, and your juices dripping down for his chin made you mewl, dragging him closer by his shirt to a kiss.

but the kiss was short because taiju cut it, his hands hoisting you up again. “i am taking you to our bedroom, our first child can not be conceived in my study.”

—

“you do not need to feel nervous, husband. they are your siblings.” you tried to comfort your husband, a kiss to his forehead and a giggle from the toddler that rested on your lap — daisuke, yours and taiju’s one-year old son. you returned to the couch your husband had on his study, daisuke nuzzling his cheek on your shoulder, a bit sleepy. he was awoken much earlier than he was used to, just to wait for his uncle and aunt to return to their homeland for the first time since taiju was crowned.

you were the only who managed to make such a meeting a reality, sending letters to both yuzuha and hakkai on taiju’s behalf. you didn’t want daisuke and his future siblings to grow up just with shion at their side and, after witnessing taiju saying he was going to be a good brother to his son, clearly thinking about hakkai, you knew you should do something.

“i know, it is just…” he sighed, looking fondly at you trying to wake daisuke up. “what if they do not have in their hearts the need to forgive me?” he expressed his worries, and you frowned.

“they have, taiju. if they did not, they would not even agree to my proposition.” you replied, hearing some commotion outside, in the hallways. they probably arrived. walking up to where your husband was sitting, you smiled down at him, hoping the sight of you and his son could distract him from the turmoil inside his heart.

and it seemed to work, until a guard opened the door.

lady yuzuha and lord hakkai were different in your memories. of course, in your mind they were still children who you used to play with, and not two young adults the same age as you. daisuke gripped your dress, puzzled as to why those people were inside his home — big golden eyes blinking at his aunt and uncle, almost as if he knew who they were. you smiled at your siblings in laws, ready to make the meddling between the shiba siblings, but the sound of taiju’s voice took you by surprise.

“yuzuha, hakkai.” he greeted them, getting up from his chair and putting a hand on your shoulder, daisuke making grabby hands at him, wanting to be held by his father. taiju indulged his son’s desires before continuing. “meet my wife and queen, y/n, and our son, daisuke.”

you noticed hakkai’s mouth slightly agape with taiju’s actions and yuzuha’s glossy eyes, but before any of them could say something, your husband continued. “i know the past can not be erased and that my mistakes are unforgivable, but i wish you two to have in your heart the desire to put my mind at ease. if not for me, then for your nephew, because i wish for you two to be part of his life.” you could feel how shaky his hand was on your shoulder, and it seemed like yours and daisuke presence’s was what was holding him back from break down.

a moment of silence passed.

“we have a lot of work to do, but i am willing to forgive you, brother.” hakkai whispered and you smiled, eyes full of tears like yuzuha’s.

“yes, me too.” the shiba sister answered, and it seemed like something heavy was taken from taiju’s shoulders — he told you what he did growing up, and his sister was the one who suffered the most. her forgiveness meant everything for taiju, and you were happy his siblings wanted to make up things with him. “you changed, brother. i supposed your wife has an important role in this.” you chuckled, cheeks heating up.

“i guess i do.” you answered before your husband could, and he smirked down at you. “why you two do not come to meet your nephew?” you asked, and taiju passed daisuke to your arms, while yuzuha and hakkai approached you two.

“he looks like hakkai, does he not?” taiju whispered, watching his siblings interacting with his son.

“because hakkai looks like you.” yuzuha answered back, daisuke now on his uncle's arms, making grabby hands towards his hair. you, taiju and yuzuha chuckled at hakkai’s panicked expression, and the shiba sister took her nephew from her younger brother's arms. “he is an angel, though i hope he inherited your personality, y/n.”

“of course not.” you answered her, a fond smile on your face. “he is his father’s son.” it was funny how much like taiju the little boy was — both in personality and physically, daisuke was like his father. they were both stubborn and had the same pout, or how they always demanded your attention and were jealous of each other. but taiju was the only one who could calm daisuke when he was afraid, and when taking care of his son, was when you saw taiju smiling the brightest. "but i hope this one now in my womb will be more like me."

you giggled, watching as two pairs of golden eyes and one of blue widening and looking at you, in disbelief.

#shiba taiju x reader #shiba taiju #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #taiju shiba #taiju shiba x reader #— june writes.

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