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#arranged marriage au: extra
floralpunkbarton · 5 months
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i've been thinking about a erke/stowe/eivor arranged marriage plot for two days now i'm so down bad for this ship i don't even particularly LIKE arranged marriage as a trope
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sipsteainanxiety · 2 years
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okay but a kind-of spy x fam au with bkg and reader getting together for their respective undercover aliases and dealing with the strangeness of living in the same apartment… slowly realizing they actually click rly well nd have a lot in common…
the ✨tension✨ the ✨slow burn✨ the ✨learning how to navigate a home life together✨
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faeriexqueen · 2 years
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Eternity (Updated: 10/28/2022)
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Written for @dgrayrarepair​ — Thanks for hosting! Day 5 (Friday 10/28) - Spicy: Death | Rape/Non-Con/Dub-Con | Incest | Torture | Mind Fuck Title: Eternity. Fandom: D. Gray-Man. Pairings: Alma Karma/Tyki Mikk, Past Yulma. Rated: Explicit. Words: 20K+. Tags: Fantasy, Angst, Royalty, Magic, Curses, Fairy Tale Curses, Forced Marriage, Arranged Marriage, Forced Intimacy, Dubious Consent, Rape/Non-Con Elements, Lemon, Tentacles, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Past!Yulma (Please see AO3 for full list of tags and warnings). Chapters: 2/2. Summary: In a desperate attempt to save their kingdom, Alma’s family strikes a deal — a dangerous one, that leaves Alma at the mercy of powerful sorcerers. One, who Alma will be soon bound to for all eternity. Chapter 2 Excerpt — The Wedding Night:
Alma gasped, sitting upright as he awoke suddenly. Cold sweat clung to his skin, his nightshirt sticking to his body and his hair disheveled. His lungs strained for air as he panted, Alma worriedly looking around his surroundings. Where was he? He wasn’t home, back in his bedroom. No, he was— ‘I’m…’ He blinked, his surroundings slowly coming into focus. It was still dark, and Alma was in a luxurious bedroom, the bed much too large for a single person and the furniture and décor ornate. The walls were stone and the windows framed by thick, heavy curtains as silvery moonlight spilled through. No, he wasn’t in his old bedroom. He was in his new bedroom that the Noah had given him. Alma’s heart sank, any relief from the nightmare gone as soon as reality settled in. Tiredly, he looked over, spying a tall grandfather clock against the wall. He realized he only had a few hours until sunrise. Until his wedding day.
Read on AO3.
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tennessoui · 2 years
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I am HYPED for Spousal Privelege! Sith Obi-Wan, mistaken identity AND mythology? You spoil us, Kit and yet I beg for more 🥺
I wish I had a good snippet to share, but so far all I have is boring set-up!!
Unfortunately given the nature of all those WIPs, it might be a while before I can post anything. Hopefully though I can get a few chapters up and ready so then it’ll be quick updates.
Obi-Wan “I don’t want my husband to see me” Kenobi vs Anakin “I am determined to fall in love with my mysterious husband” is a fight everyone deserves to see 😍
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whenthegoldrays · 9 months
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No but one of these days I am going to write a LUTYN au where Yeon-kyung is the daughter of the Minister of War who helps keep Im's medical treatment of the servants a secret.
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etfrin · 5 months
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⤷❝ The Quiet Gift | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-
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⇢☾Warning: NSFW | squirting, Snow is his own warning, mentions of killing, possessiveness, fingering (f. receiving), bathroom sex, mirror sex, semi-public sex (there was a gala), pinv sex, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), dumbfication if you squint, dom sub undertones, degradation, ownership kink, breath play with a twist | lmk if I forgot anything!
⇢☾Pairing: young president Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader
⇢☾Summary: continuation of the arranged marriage au, this is your one year anniversary with him with a gala held in place to celebrate, you get insecure because of some bitches and Coryo fucks you in the bathroom with sprinkles of your daily life with him.
⇢☾Request: this is a request (idk if i’m writing it in the write place im new to tumblr i usually use wattpad) young coriolanus snow bathroom mirror sex like him making u watch ur self come undone in the mirror
⇢☾A/N: enjoy everyone! And to one who requested, hope you like this! :) this might be my last post of this theme btw, i am getting sick of the blue :/
arranged marriage au: the study, mine to love
< masterlist > < bc: @cafekitsune > < tag list >
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A year had passed of your marriage, a bond between two souls which wasn't much of a lie as before. Things with Coryo were better than you could ever expect. You thought he would isolate himself from you after your confession but so much had changed. He had gotten softer but more possessive. His edges are sharp yet he makes sure it's a shield for you, not something that would make you bleed.
Among his actions include changing your entire wardrobe (not without your opinion first), a library that connects to his office (his office is something you have access to at all times now), his room was now yours both (your favorite change), and last but not least a poison taster was included so that no attempts of assassination at the First Lady could be taken.
At first, you thought it to be extra, but knowing that it would put his paranoid mind at peace you allow it without much to say. He picked out your outfit every day, and sometimes you did the same for Coriolanus. He would frown as you decide what to wear or not for him for the day, knowing that some of the pieces don't match his style but when he sees your smile as you pick out the clothes. He smooths his frown and takes whatever horrible fashion statement you created for him and wears it with pride.
If anyone dared to speak up about it, he proudly said that his wife picked it out and everyone knew better than to speak a single ill word of the unspoken Queen of Panem.
Today was one of those days when you decided to pick his outfit. Today was something special after all. One year had passed since you had become Mrs. Snow, and a gala was to be held tonight to celebrate the union.
So yes, you were going to pick his outfit. You had even woken up early because of it. You giggled as you opened your eyes, your arm around Coryo whose hair looked impossibly messy, sticking out everywhere. It made him look years younger than he was. You chuckled at the sight, your heart clenching with the love you have for this man. You lean forward to press a kiss to his forehead and then his cheek. You whispered, not expecting him to wake up until his alarm rang, “Good morning, Coryo”
You quietly slipped away from the bed and tiptoeed to the closet. The closet you both shared now. One side carrying every single piece of your clothing and the other side his. You wanted to pick out something different for your husband once, sick of seeing him in his white shirts and black vest. That's how you picked out a black suit with a white vest and a red silk shirt. You could imagine unbuttoning this off of him tonight and the thought made your body heat up and a giggle escaped your lips.
“What are you laughing about, doll?” A voice, his deep sleepy voice startling you. “Nothing!” You quickly said, turning to look at Snow, your breath hitching as his eyes were half closed and his hair turned into a mess of curls. Sometimes you wonder if this was all a fever dream and if you truly have the privilege of seeing him like this. You placed the clothes into a corner and went to him.
You pulled him down, your hand on his nape and another on his cheek as you guided him to your lips. Morning breath be damned. His actions were reflexive with how his arms pulled you in closer as his lips pressed into yours. He smiles against your lips and soon both of your tongues tangle in an uncoordinated sleepy manner and you whimper into his mouth.
This was real. This was your reality and you would do everything to keep it as it is. You pulled back and he whispered, “What was that for, doll?”
“Just needed to make sure this was real,” you answered him. Your words make him crack a real smile, something even you saw rarely and it would only be possible in moments like this. Moments when you have shocked the man with your actions and words and made him fall harder for you.
“Well it is,” he grins. Before his expression clears up he focuses on the clothes you have set aside. “Outfit for today?” He asked. You nod and smile at him, gesturing at the clothes. “You would look handsome in them,” you said. “Don't I always look handsome?” He smirks, you laugh, “I am not falling for that trap, dear husband. I'll be in the shower, choose something for me.” You press a kiss on his cheek before leaving the closet.
After showering and wearing the red dress he had decided, both of you go on for your respective duties. The gala would start early in the day and there were a few hours left before it formally started as guests were already coming in.
The mansion was set up beautifully, no words could have possibly explained the amount of work and dedication to make this the event of the year, valued higher than the Hunger Games itself. In another universe, it may not have been possible, in this one however you somehow managed to crack into his heart and made yourself a higher priority.
You were doing finishing touches of your makeup when Corio came in, his hair slicked back but his body tense, his eyes unable to hide the shakiness in them. You don't say anything, letting the man have his moment of vulnerability. You knew you would mess him up even more if you pointed it out, so you continued your task.
You didn't pay him any attention despite the itch to turn to him. You force yourself to stare straight into the mirror, applying your lipstick for the night. That was until he came behind you, his arms around your waist and pulled you against his chest, his head propped on your shoulder as you felt him take deep breaths.
You don't ask if anything is wrong, accepting the rare form of intimacy he initiated. Usually, you're the ones for the hugs, the genuine ones anyway. You knew despite everything you were like a math equation to Snow. His mind figured out the formulas to keep you to him forever, you doubted if he saw anyone as his equal but you were perhaps the closest thing to it.
You had accepted it long before, but moments like this when Coriolanus allowed himself to be a human meant everything to you. You fell for every version of him, the one that is an untouchable deity who could kill you without guilt, and the human he was, obsession filling in veins making you the sole objective of his mind as he already achieved Panem.
You close your eyes, taking deep breaths with him. In the end, you were human too and you broke. “What's wrong?” You asked, as softly as possible yet breaking the bubble that had formed.
He smirks through the mirror, his eyes meeting yours, a sense of superiority in the blue hues. “Nothing’s wrong, my doll,” he whispered to you, pressing a ghost-like kiss to your bare shoulder. His arms cage you tighter, making a small gasp on your lips. “Okay,” you smile at him.
“Ready to start the gala then?” You asked, “Snows are born ready,” he replied, his tone smug.
One of his arms was kept wrapped around his waist while the other opened a drawer to take out a small box. “For you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your neck. You opened the box, and in it was a gold necklace with the initial ‘S’. You blush, and leave it to Corio to give you a necklace with his initials for an anniversary gift. “It’s beautiful,” you whispered, your head turning back and you gave him the brightest smile. “Help me wear it?” You mumbled as you handed him the box.
And so he did, and now a necklace was on your neck, the letter ‘S’ sitting perfectly on your skin. It scratched an innate itch for Snow to see you wear this. A part of him had expected you to fight, and be disgusted by this action, his mind thinking of several ways to make (force) you to wear the necklace. But as always you surprised him with your acceptance, as if you knew that wearing this would help him with his possessiveness. You were truly the right woman for him.
With his arm around your waist, you walk into the celebration. Countless people, the top elites of the Capitol were attending the gala. Everything had to be perfect.
Alas, fate is nothing but fickle.
The rumors didn't catch your ears at first before slowly the whispers caught up to you. Too busy with your life in the mansion and with Coriolanus, you rarely were social. You never had many friends from the capitols' elites. And those who knew were merely allies for the future. So the gossip never reached your ears.
Gossip you knew better to believe. Words change when they travel mouth to mouth. It can be easily manipulated too, your husband was a living proof of that. The snake tongue of all of Panem. But when the words seemed to get louder and louder, you couldn't help but feel maybe it's tinged with truth.
Snow was busy talking to diplomats while you were politely having a conversation with the ladies. That's when the questions began about some things they had heard about Snow. Each worse than the other but nothing you didn't already know. You make sure to change their perspective whenever something new comes up. Coriolanus was still new at this position, anything could snatch the power away if either of you weren't careful.
Feeling like you have finished the job, you begin to move away, only to stop when you hear, “...even wearing a pendant with his initial, she's nothing more than a whore who was pushed up to play the role of the First Lady. A woman of her standing would never deserve such a title.”
It was true, when Snow asked you to marry you, it was sudden and he gained nothing from it. Nothing, no money, power, and just a few connections you had but he had already impressed them all beforehand so there was no need for you. Your history in the academy wasn't all that great either, you were never the best but wholly average. A man like Snow deserved the best.
Insecurity claws at your heart and even so with recent events you knew their words were wrong. Tears burned your eyes. Your hand goes to the necklace you had on, your fingers twirling the pendant. Meanwhile, despite Coriolanus' focus being mainly on talking sweet to the guests and gathering sponsors, his eyes were on you, your every moment, and each person you spoke to. He notices you walking away from the gala and into the hallways. He followed you.
You were in one of the many bathrooms the manor had to offer. You stared at the mirror, the necklace you were wearing, and your hands traveled to the back ready to take it off. That's when Coriolanus enters the bathroom, his footsteps stopping midtrack as you freeze too.
“Coryo,” you begin to speak, your hand at your side now. “I was just-” “Why were you going to take it off?” He interrupted you, his face twisted in a glare you never thought would be directed at you. You shrugged, trying to play casual, “It doesn't feel appropriate.” “Why?” He questioned his tone icy calm, spreading chills down your spine. “Because-” because you didn't feel worthy of it. “Because you're ashamed of me,” he scoffs, walking closer to you. His eyes now fully glaring at you.
You frown, “What? Coryo, no-” He tilts your chin up, as he leans in, his expression twisted in fury, “Then what? There's no other appropriate reason for you to take it off then.” In truth, something was getting lost in translation, the women you were talking to earlier were going to be accused of treason in a few days. The cause? The rumors (some truth mixed in as well) they had spread about Snow. They were invited out of courtesy and after this, they had signed their death certificate.
“It's nothing like-” “Then what?” He hissed, “Did you finally come to your senses? Did they tell you how much of a horrible monster I am? And a horrible president?” You knew some sort of major miscommunication had happened but you had no idea how to deal with it. Not when Snow pressed a harsh, hard kiss to your lips, teeth clashing and his tongue seemingly fighting with yours for dominance that you easily gave over.
“You can't escape me, doll. No matter how horrible you realize I am. Think about running away and it's your dead body that will be leaving this mansion.” he whispered against your lips, his hands on your waist, your body flushed against his as your back hit the counter.
You chuckled at his words, knowing that would never be your end. His eyebrows furrow in confusion and it makes you giggle even further. “Dove, I am not joking,” he said, looking straight in your eyes. “I know,” you smile at him, “You…” you shake your head, smiling, you were surely crazier than him. You leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Those women said something… mean and it made me realize I may not be worthy of this necklace…” you begin to explain, hoping the explanation would calm him down.
You thought wrong. “You don't think I can decide who deserves to be my property, pet. Whom I let to be my queen,” he said, his tone deeper than before. He whispered, “I decided it's you. It's been a year since that decision and I haven't regretted it once.”
He manovaroued you so you were facing the mirror. He was right behind you, his eyes hard. “The woman you're looking at right now is mine. My pet. My wife. How dare you try to take off a mark of my ownership, doll?” You opened your mouth to apologize, but a moan escaped instead as he bit into your shoulder. He begins to press you against the counter, your body bending over as he continues to press wet kisses on your nape.
“You need a reminder about whom you belong to,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin making you shiver, heat spreading to your body as his hands unzipped your dress from behind, letting the fabric fall on the floor. “I am yours,” you moan to him as his palms knead your breasts through the bra. “Then you should have known better, my stupid bird.”
“You look away from the mirror even once…,” he said, his hands squeezing your breasts roughly, his head propped up to your shoulder, his face set in a smirk, “and that group of women dies.” They were going to die either way but you didn't know that.
You gasp, “Snow- '' His hands squeeze your breasts harder, bordering on pain. “It’s Coryo for you, dove,” he said, slowly yet firmly as if talking to a child. His hands move downwards, one moves to your hip, and for the other, his fingers slip inside your panties. You whimper when his fingertip touches your clit. At any other time, he would have been slow, and gentle when he was rubbing the bud but now? His touch was fast and unconcerned, his sole goal was to inflict punishment with pleasure.
He rubbed at your clit relentlessly, making you soak your panties with your juices. His other hand squeezes your hips. You whine, your eyes closing and he pinches your clit making you moan louder than you should, your eyes opening immediately to meet his gaze.
“Only warning, pet,” he whispered, his finger now playing with the clit even more relentlessly. Back and forth, up and down with no mercy, making the bud swollen and your pussy clench around nothing. “Yes, Coryo,” you gasp.
“My dumb pet can learn after all,” he whispered to your ear and then his lips kissed the clasp of your necklace. His fingers abandon your clit to swipe at your folds to gather your wetness. He chuckles as he continues to tease you like this, his hard cock pressing against your ass.
“Coryo,” you whispered and your eyes connected with his and you knew his fingers could feel the flex of your cunt around nothing. “That's it. Look at me, doll.”
He slipped his fingers one by one into your slit, the stretch making you gasp. “It's too much,” you managed to get out, your voice shaky. “You can take it,” he tuts. His fingers begin to message your wall, hitting every crook and canny you never knew existed. He twisted his fingers thrusting right at your g-spot making you moan loudly, your body was now completely bent over in front of the mirror and your hands gripped the counter for life. Snow continues to playfully stretch you out, scissoring your pussy with his long fingers.
When he finally deemed you loose enough, he pulled his fingers out without a warning making you whimper. He pulls down your panties around your knees, and then his hand unzipped his pant to take his cock out. Something in you liked how he was composed and fully clothed while having you like this, primal and debauched. It showcased Coriolanus perfectly, no matter how prim and proper the man was outside in the end he was as much of a mess.
His impatient was clear with his clenched jaw, one of his hands traveling upwards your body to grip your breast like a handle as his free hand guides his leaking, hard cock into your entrance. “I was going to fuck you good tonight, on a bed properly like a wife deserves,” he begins to say as he pushed in with a single stroke. Your mouth lets out a small scream as your pussy adjusts to his dick. “Instead I have to treat you like a whore, bending your ass over a counter and fuck you while there are people all over the mansion.” He shakes his head disappointed, he meets your gaze, “I expected better, doll.”
“Then why keep a disappointment around,” you snapped at him, making him raise his eyebrows at your tone, his cock twitching inside your walls. “I wonder that myself too,” he grunts, his face buried in your shoulder, his tongue licking your salty skin. “You’re my everything,” he whispered, “Don't you forget that, dove.”
It was a confession that made you turn your back and made you catch his lips. He groans into your mouth as both of your tongues play with each other, expressing words the others cannot say. His free hand went to grip your necklace chain, making you gasp as he fisted the chain and pulled at it, knocking at your breath in one go.
His hips had begun to pound into you, short, hard thrusts that made his cockhead press against your g-spot while his remaining length messaged your walls perfectly. “You don't have to think, doll. I am here to think for you. You don't have to think about deserving me, or Panem. You don't have to think at all, just be my bird. My bird only,” he grunts.
Your eyes had begun to see spots from the lack of air, he hadn't seemed to care as your pussy keeps squeezing around him because of it. He lets go of the chain, making you gasp and you take the air you desperately need as his thrusts begin to get sloppier. Coryo was too impatient, too worked up, too mad at you to care about your pleasure. You were a pet getting used and you loved every second of it.
“I love you,” you whispered to him, and he groaned in response, as his thrusts got slower. He was edging himself to last longer, for this not to end. He bites your nape, not hard as he does usually to make sure the mark fades in a few seconds. His hips continue to rock into you, both of his hands now kneading at your clothed breast. He makes your round flesh spill from the bra and cups them with a groan escaping his lips.
“You’re mine,” he said as he pressed wet kisses all over your neck and shoulders, “Mine.” Your pussy clenched around him, making his pace get even slower, frustration begins to claw your mind as your body tethers to the edge. “Yours,” you agreed. “Fuck me faster,” you plead.
He lets out a laugh, “No. You'll take what I'll give.” “Coryo, my love please!” You begged. His hips stutter, making you feel confused, before realizing why he had stopped. You hadn't called him that since that night and you realized you had leverage on the man.
“My love, please! Fuck me harder,” you spill, “Baby, please!” He clenched his jaw trying so hard not to give in to the instinct of rutting into you like an animal. Knowing that he was near the edge, you continue, “Cum in me and make me walk around the gala with your cum inside, please. Please, mark me!”
That did the trick rather perfectly. His hand wraps around your throat, not choking you but staying there as a comforting presence that shouldn't have been comforting at all. “My dumb pet has ways with words. Gotta fuck that out of you, my dove,” he smirked.
His hips begin to roll into you again, making you gasp and squeeze his dick with your slick walls. The start of it was slow and cautious before Coriolanus decided to throw it all in the wind. He takes half of his length out before slamming it back to you. The sound of hips snapping echoed into the air along with his grunts and your moans. He kept fucking into you, with no care about anything.
Both of your sights were obscene in the mirror and it turned you not to end. Your body had begun to heat, your pussy aching to cum after being played with for so long. The tension in your body was close to snapping, and he knew it too. Knew it the way your cunt kept sucking his cock in so well. His head was on your shoulder, his mouth breathing out hot air onto your skin.
“Look at me,” you whispered, and his eyes snap at you and not even a second later he spills into your cunt, fucking his cum into you as he lets out a whine for the first time. You gasp, feeling your build-up fading without snapping but Snow was never to disappoint. He pulled his cock out, just to stuff you with his fingers. You whimper, your sensitive walls twitching around his fingers, so close to breaking.
Coriolanus doesn't waste a second to thrust into your sopping cunt, your folds covered in his cum, and fucking that into you with his fingers. He crooks his fingers perfectly, hitting your g-spot and making you black out for a second as his fingers keep assaulting your insides without a care.
You gasp, your body starting to give up. Snow has to wrap an arm around you to help you stay balanced. “That's it, doll. Cum on my fingers. I will make you cum on my cock later,” he promised to you. You cry out as his fingers continue their fast pace of thrusting. And finally, finally, your orgasm builds up again. A single graze from his fingertip onto your spongy spot has you not only cumming but squirting too.
Even Coriolanus eyes widen in surprise as you spill your juices onto the floor, ruining your dress and everything. You begin to feel ashamed of losing control in such a manner, but Coryo curses, “Fuck, doll. Fuck, that was…” He couldn't even finish the sentence.
You close your eyes, feeling yourself close to losing balance, only for Snow to swipe your legs from the floor and carry you to the bathtub.
“I’ll take care of you, doll,” he said, “I’ll bring in a new set of clothes, wait.” “What about the gala?” You asked. He kissed your temple before he replied, “I told everyone to leave the moment you walked away. Told everyone you were sick and as your husband, I shall be taking care of you.”
You let out a raspy chuckle, it was rather amazing how Coriolanus Snow always turned everything in his favor. Even this would help his image of being a president who took such good care of his wife and would surely take the country to great lengths.
“Snow lands on top,” you whispered to him with a smile.
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nana-gumi · 2 months
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devoted f.toji
pairings: fushiguro toji x fem! reader
cw: heavy angst, arranged marriage, illness, inaccurate descriptions of heart disease (just did some research lol), megumi is 5 years old, mentions of abuse, some kissing, mentions of pregnancy, drinking, toji is giving mixed signals, suggestive themes, lots of cursing, happy ending. wc: 18k
a/n: this was a filo au that i posted on tiktok, but due to problems posting on tiktok, the story wasn't finished and now here it is with an ending!! sorry for the long wait my tiktok readers 🥹 i'm sorry if the ending did not meet your expectations :') will post the angst ending soon
despite the years his past wife died, he still couldn't move on. it's up for the fate to decide if you could change him.
happy ending | alternate angst ending
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being an outcast in your family is the worst. you were forced to marry someone who's like you.
toji fushiguro, an outcast in his family and both of you were forced to marry each other. you've heard rumors about him. mostly bad ones. his father's company is famous after all.
toji have a son from his deceased wife. the time you met his son, megumi, you thought the kid will hate you but it was the opposite. he welcomed you, even told you that he was happy he finally has a mother.
you and toji never really interacted with each other that much, only if needed, like family gatherings or when megumi is around. who would want to show a kid that you're not interested with each other, right? but when it's just the two of you, both were completely a stranger to each other. there were times were you wanted to start a conversation because sleeping in one bed was awkward especially when there's no conversation at all.
you did start a conversation at some point but toji's presence was intimidating enough to shut you up. as time passes by, you're getting used to his presence. he seemed to be scowling at all times but you noticed that, that's just how he is. you continued to interact with him until you and him finally got comfortable with each other, where good morning and good nights were exchanged. but then you've grown attached to the man, especially his son.
when you asked toji why his last name is fushiguro, he told you that it was his deceased wife's last name. toji still refused to bring back his last name which is supposed to be zenin. he told you that his family once forced him to use zenin again but toji simply ignored them. even though toji was an outcast, none of his family couldn't argue with him so he kept the last name fushiguro while you stick with your own last name.
being an outcast, you didn't feel any love from your family and the simple things toji showed you made you feel loved. that night he let you borrow his jacket when it started to snow unexpectedly, those times where he makes extra coffee for you, he would even let you hug him if you have nightmares and most of all, he defends you from your family.
that's what you loved, no– love about him. but you wonder, does toji feel the same? and the answer was already obvious. toji only accepted the marriage because he doesn't have a choice. they will remove him from the business his family owns and he doesn't want that because he needs money for his son, megumi. he promised his deceased wife that he'll take care of megumi after all.
and you adore toji for that. sometimes you think, will toji cherish you the same way he does with his deceased wife? even if his wife died many years ago, he still have the love he has for her, as if she's still around to feel it.
-
you were currently laying on the couch as you hug yourself for warmth. it wasn't an argument with toji, but you just want to be left alone for now. the words "i love you" accidentally slipped out of your mouth, and you didn't mind if toji doesn't reply and you just hoped he didn't reply to it at all.
"i love you, toji." you whispered, enough for him to hear and his eyes looked guilty as he looked away from you.
"you shouldn't." toji replied. "you'll just hurt yourself."
"i know."
"you know we're married only in papers, we already decided to be just friends." you already know that, but you couldn't just hold back anymore, and of course he would say that. toji thinks no one could replace the love his deceased wife showed and gave him. she was there at his lowest point, she comforted him, told him the words he doesn't know he deserves to hear and toji just couldn't open his heart to love someone, at least not anymore. his wife was enough, megumi addressing you as his mother is enough, even a part of toji doesn't want it.
you glanced at the ring he's caressing on his finger. it should be the ring you placed on his finger on the wedding day but instead, it was the promise ring his wife had gave him. your heart couldn't ache anymore. you're so used at the empty feeling that it doesn't hurt you anymore.
"i'm sorry.." you mumbled as you excused yourself, deciding to just sleep on the couch. there you've grown to realize that being attached with toji fushiguro was the biggest mistake you'll ever done but you'll never regret.
-
you woke up with a shuffling beside you. you opened your eyes and saw megumi with his small blanket on his hand as he frowned at you.
"mama, it's cold." megumi said as he hurriedly draped his blanket above you.
"it's fine, megumi." you smiled at him as megumi tucked his small body on your arms.
"mama, did papa make you cry?" megumi asked and you pinched his nose as you disagree with his question.
"no megumi, mama fell asleep here while watching." you said.
"okay, i love you mama." megumi said and it has been minutes since he said those words and you were still silent that it made megumi look up at you.
"mama, i love you." he repeated with a hushed tone.
"i―" it was as if you choked on something as you embraced the child. "i love my baby too." you muttered.
after that conversation with toji, everything feels weird as if it's reminding you of your place, that you were forced to marry toji to strengthen your family's bond with the zenin's.
"papa loves you too." megumi mumbled and you just hoped it was true.
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toji's mother suddenly visited that day without a notice and toji wasn't around. his family doesn't really hate you but there's always a weird atmosphere around when you're close with them. just when his mother asked where toji was, he suddenly came back from work.
you knew he went here in rush, and the way he wrapped his arms around you as his lips came in contact with your forehead made your heart flutter. but you reminded yourself that it was only for a show. his mother smiled at the scene as toji sat beside you on the dining table.
"what brings you here, ma." toji asked in an annoyed tone.
"i just wanted to visit my grandson." you excused yourself a bit as you made your way towards the kitchen to make them something to eat and drink, and when you came back, the question you and toji were avoiding got asked by his mother.
"when do you plan on having another child?" she asked.
"no plans yet, we're to busy to have another child running around. megumi is enough."
"it's been a year since you're both married. why not give it a try?"
"ma―" you cut toji off before he could say something harsh to his mother.
"we did try it, ma, but it didn't really work so we decided to just wait for the right time." you answered, lied for toji and his mother seemed to buy it.
"ok.. but i am getting old, toji. we need to see a female granchild too." she said before excusing herself to go to her grandson who was playing. toji huffed at her mother's response as he stood up from the chair.
"i am sorry about that, toji." you said because as much as possible, you wanted to avoid answering that question too. toji sighed as he left the kitchen to get changed and when he went back to the living room, his mother was about to leave.
finally. he thought.
"just give it a try." toji's mother told you as she went inside her car.
"why'd she go here without informing me." toji muttered as megumi sat between you and him on the couch, showing the chocolate his grandmother gave him.
"i was surprised too."
"that's fine, thank you for covering up for me." he said as he stood up from the couch and took the chocolate on megumi's hand while carrying him. megumi whined in surprise as his father carried him like a sack of rice as you slowly followed behind.
"papa!" he exclaimed, kicking and punching but it was no use.
"come on, we don't want mama to get mad for eating to much sweets at night." toji said. he wasn't talking about you, you know that.
he placed megumi down beside the refrigerator as he placed the chocolate inside.
"too much sweet is not good for you." toji said as he carried megumi once again.
-
you just finished washing the dishes as you walked past megumi's room, and their muffled voices made you eavesdrop at their conversation, and you maybe you just didn't.
"megumi, why are you being so stubborn? you don't want mama to get mad right?"
"mama doesn't get mad at me!" megumi yelled as you smile a bit at his words.
"megumi, did you already forget your real mama, hm? she'll be sad in heaven. you want that?" toji said and his words was like a needle that was continuously poking at your chest.
"huh? but mama is here." megumi said, pointing at the door.
"look, (name) is just a replacement for your mama, but your real mama? she loves you, her love for you couldn't be replaced by someone."
"even (name)?" megumi said, and the way he addressed you by your name, you admit hurts. you took a deep breath as you felt a sharp pain in your chest. but that's fine, you're already used to it.
"yes, now go and sleep okay?"
"okay."
-
megumi started acting awkwardly towards you the next day, he was trying his best to avoid your gaze, maybe even you. he would stutter through his words between calling your name or 'mama'.
"bye bye, (name).." megumi looks away at you as he held toji's hand.
"bye bye." you replied as you forced a smile and megumi looked back once at the front door as they finally left the house.
-
"papa, i don't want to see mama sad." megumi said as toji placed his seatbelt. megumi might be a kid but he can clearly understood human emotions. when he called you by your name earlier, he saw how your smile disappeared but then you covered it up by a forced smile, and you just let him call you by your name.
"she's not sad-"
"yes she is."
"you don't understand, megumi." toji said and megumi only kept quiet because he knew arguing with his father is useless.
-
megumi jolted awake. he fell asleep after being in school the whole day as he searched for your presence. he had a dream, a really bad one and he found you in your and his father's room, talking to someone in your phone. megumi heard a sob coming out of you. you said something that megumi couldn't quite hear as you finally ended the call. he watched as you wiped your tears with your palms and took a deep breath. megumi silently close the door as he went back to the living room, sitting patiently as you appeared on his view.
"oh, megumi. how was your sleep?" you asked as you kneeled infront of the boy. megumi observed your eyes, they were a bit red.
"it's fine, mama." you were taken aback. he's calling you mama again. you smiled as you cupped his chubby cheeks.
"are you hungry?" you asked and he nods as you guided him on his feet. he didn't let go of your hand.
"mama, i love you. you're my one and only mama." you felt megumi's small hands squeeze your big ones, as if he's reassuring you of something.
"i love you too, my one and only baby. now let's go and prepare dinner!" megumi noticed that your mood shifted, and he was proud of himself that he was the one who brought a smile on your face.
-
it's unusual for you to wake up with toji's arms around you. you knew toji didn't do it on purpose, he was drunk last night and you just want to indulge the moment, even just for a minute or even seconds. you felt toji moved and you immediately stood up from the bed.
why do you feel guilty? it's not like you and toji were cheating on his wife. but that's how you felt. toji was still sleeping as you sighed, placing the blanket above him as you went out of the room.
"good morning, mama!" megumi greeted as he closed his ipad off.
"morning, 'gumi. what do you want for breakfast?"
"anything you cook!" he answered as he sat on the kitchen stool, watching you prepare the ingredients you needed.
"pancakes or rice?"
"rice!"
"okay." you laughed at his energetic response.
"mama can we buy art materials later? my teacher said we'll do arts on monday."
"sure, let's go out after we eat."
-
toji heard you and megumi talking as he arrived the living room. and just as he was about to enter the kitchen, your body bumped on his chest.
"oh, i was about to wake you up. breakfast is ready." you said, about to went back to the table but toji held your arm to stop you for a moment. he placed his other hand behind his head as he looks away.
"did i said something weird? last night." he asked as you look at him for a moment before you shake your head left to right. toji sighed in relief as he let go of your arm, both of you sitting on the kitchen stool. you look at toji, and he looks at you, but you couldn't meet his eyes as you smiled at megumi and place the food on his plate.
-
you just finished brushing your teeth as you were disturbed with a loud thud outside the bathroom.
"toji? are you there?" you called.
it was as if your soul went out of your body for a second, toji appeared infront of you. a curse slipped out of your mouth as toji's weight fell on you.
this was your first time seeing toji drunk, even your first time encountering a drunk person and you really don't know what to do so you tried your best to pull him with you in the room since he was so heavy.
once you opened the door of your room, you and toji fell on the ground. does his wife encountered this event a lot of times? if so what did she do?
toji was whispering something. you couldn't quite hear him as you placed your ear close to his mouth, the smell of alcohol getting stronger than it was and he was apologizing. you were confused as you move away from him.
"toji, i can't carry you anymore." you said, trying to wake him up as toji's eyes slightly opened.
"my wife." he whispered, you don't know if that certain beat in your heart was because he called you his wife or maybe because he mistook you of his wife.
and the next words he uttered is what you didn't expect as he suddenly placed his hand on your cheek and you were completely frozen in your spot as he continued to speak.
toji's hand finally slipped from your face as his head fell on your shoulder and you sit there, processing the words he said just a minute ago
he didn't mistook you as if wife, he indeed called you his wife and it warmed your heart.
"mama?" you were out of your thoughts when you felt megumi's hand above yours. "are you okay?" he asked as you look at him and then at toji.
"i'm fine, what was it again?" you asked, facing megumi as he smiled at you.
"papa will go with us later!" he said.
"oh? is that so?" you said as you look at toji, waiting for his answer.
he laughs at your reaction.
"looks like you don't want to?" he joked.
"it's not like that! it's always just me and megumi, since you're always busy.." you responded.
"yeah, today's a day off." you cursed internally. you have an appointment to the doctor today, you thought taking megumi with you would be fine, but toji? what reason should you tell him? you couldn't possibly say that you have a family meeting. no, you don't even have someone you can call a family, except for this two. plus toji would be updated if there's a family gathering.
maybe you'll ask the doctor to move appointments.
-
"are you sure? though i'm not sure when my schedule's gonna be clear again, (name)."
"it's fine choso, i can wait, just update me."
"sorry about that, i'm busy these days plus yuuji's been wanting attention too."
"is that so?" you said as you smile. "i want to meet him soon! looks like he's a good kid."
"soon, i'll bring him to the hospital with me."
"okay, see you next time then?"
"yeah. and (name), don't stress yourself too much, it's bad for the heart." you smiled at his words.
"of course, thank you. bye."
"who's choso?" startled by the voice, you immediately hid your phone behind you.
he was eavesdropping.
toji raised his eyebrow at your reaction as he opened his cabinet.
"a friend of mine."
"really? didn't know you have a friend." toji said in a voice you couldn't recognize, it was as if he's mocking you. you scoffed at him, deciding to just ignore his words.
you were about to leave the room but toji's voice stopped you.
"if you're starting to date someone, don't inform megumi about it. or he'll be sad." he said, mumbling the last sentence as you left. did toji really thought you were dating someone even if you're married already?
sure everything is one-sided, but you just don't have it in you to date someone, not when toji already has your heart, your everything. even if he doesn't know it. but you think it's better for toji to assume that choso is something in your life than choso just being an appointed doctor.
-
toji was too drunk when he got home and he think he just saw his deceased wife, but when he approached the person, it turned out to be you.
toji noticed that he was at the bathroom and felt your hands on his arms as you place it on your shoulder. he felt drinking that day, he wanted to forget everything or maybe when his wife appeared on his dream last night, the words he told her. he didn't want to wake up that night.
toji already forgot her face, her voice, how her hands felt on his. he already promised that they will meet again. in next life or in another universe. it doesn't matter where, as long as he could meet his wife again. but his wife told him in his dreams that he should move on, and he couldn't just do that.
toji did saw your efforts. he saw how you care for him, especially megumi. but he couldn't just stop himself from comparing you to his wife on his mind. no one could ever replace his wife. toji squinted his eyes, he saw you trying to pick him up.
"toji, i can't carry you anymore." but your words was a blur to him.
toji's hand twitched and moved on its own as he sat up from the floor.
"i'm sorry, i can't." he muttered as he placed his rough hand on your cheek, observing your eyes as he leaned his forehead on yours. "i can't love no more. i can't love you the same way. i'm sorry."
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toji was the man of your dreams.
he might not know it but toji saved your life, he saved you from the hands of your greedy parents.
"i can't love you the same way, i'm sorry." the way he said those words were filled with guilt.
sometimes you put yourself on his place. if you were the one that has a past lover who died, of course it'll be hard to move on, especially when that person made you feel love and gave you the world.
toji was miserable back then, not until he met her. she fixed him. just like you and toji, you met him and he fixed you. the only difference was they loved each other. she loved him and he loved her, while you love him but he was stuck in the past.
there were times where you watch him sleep, not in a bad way, but just want to admire him where you whisper your love for him. he won't hear it of course. his dreams must be more entertaining than the words you're whispering to him.
toji's words that night made an impact to you. everything he does for you, you started viewing it as him just doing it for kindness and not for love. maybe toji just doesn't want to hurt you further because he knew how badly your family treated you back then. you were on the same page after all.
now you realized that maybe it was bound to happen, that being married with toji is enough, being a mother figure to megumi was enough. he already did enough for you, for taking you away from your hell life. you'll just pay him back by doing what you should for him and megumi.
you'll just love him silently. you'll bury your feelings deep inside your heart that only you, yourself knew. maybe wait for him to finally acknowledge you. but you knew it wouldn't happen this time around.
for now, you'll just watch him love someone who wasn't even around anymore.
-
toji was showing you a picture of his past wife because you asked him to see her. she looked a lot like megumi, but a female version. now you know why toji fell in love with her. even in the picture, it was already obvious that his wife was kind and a loving person. but you're kind and a loving person too, aren't you? the universe is so unfair.
"this is when she was 7 months pregnant." toji said as he pointed a specific picture. you smiled at his words as you continue to listen to him. but toji suddenly went silent all of the sudden and closed the album as he cleared his throat.
"why, did you want to see it?" he asked as he placed the album back inside his drawer.
"just curious, she looked a lot like megumi." you said as you lean your head on your knees, facing him. "how did you meet her?"
"it was an arranged marriage too." he said. "i wasn't really favored with it but i don't have a choice." toji smiled. how can a person like her make him smile like this when you can't? "she was simple, i suddenly fell in love with her." toji said with adoration in his voice as he looked at you.
you sighed as you lay flat on the bed and started stretching your arms.
"ah, i wonder if someone would love me that way too." you sighed as you turned your back on him.
"you will, but that couldn't be me." he said straightforwardly as if reminding you that you couldn't change his mind anymore and it made you curl yourself on the sheets.
"are you and that choso dating?" toji asked as you turn to face him. he was leaning his back on the headboard with a laptop on his lap.
"no? why'd you assume we're dating?"
"you've been going out a lot these days, i just thought."
"are you okay with that?" you asked.
"of course." and he didn't even hesitate which hurt you more. "i mean, maybe he's the one you're looking for?" toji said as he closed the laptop, the surroundings being engulfed with darkness, the bright moon outside being the only source of light.
but you're already here. you wanted to say those words but you already knew what he'll respond to it. toji lay flat on the bed as he placed his arms behind his head while you were still facing him.
"not gonna answer my question?"
"oh? what was it again?"
"i said maybe choso is the one you're looking for."
"toji-"
"i just want what's best for you, y/n. you know, i can't really.."
"toji, i already know that. choso is just a friend, nothing more, nothing less." you said followed by a sigh. "at least just let me be by your side." you whispered, hoping that he heard even just a bit of it.
"if you insist, but i already warned you." toji said.
"i know.." toji was just beside you, but he's far within your reach. has it always been like this? every night, you and toji always ends the day with a conversation, same question with the same answers and toji will end up with his back facing you. every night, you couldn't sleep. only whispering those three words to him hoping and praying that he'll hear it and say it back.
every i love you's that was whispered were left hanging on the air. sometimes it was tiring, thinking of the words toji said that maybe he wasn't really for you and you weren't the one for him.
"good night." you mumbled.
"good night." he replied and everything was dark.
i love you, toji.
those words you utter to yourself every single day and night, hoping that he'll say it back, maybe just once, and it might heal the void inside your heart. but not a single day he said it back.
-
toji felt guilty but he shouldn't be feeling this way. you were just married on papers and already agreed that being friends was enough. yet he couldn't help but watch as you curl yourself, as if seeking for a comfort he knew he couldn't give you. he apologized on his mind, he couldn't say it out loud because he knew how it would hurt you more, so he just stayed silent.
toji switched off the lights as he lay comfortably to the side with your back facing him. he doesn't know how long he's been closing his eyes but sleep just couldn't take over him.
"i love you, toji."
he froze on his spot and his body tensed as he heard you whispered those words. he then felt your fingers caress the scar on his lips.
"i'm sorry if you ever feel guilty for not returning my love for you. but always know that i understand you." you whispered and your touch disappeared on his skin as he felt your warmth get close to him. "i'll keep waiting, maybe someday.." minutes passed, toji was still waiting for you to say something but you were already silent.
he opened his one eye and the first thing he saw was your back, there were a space between you and him.
is it always this far? are you always this far from him? toji doesn't know. he tried to reach for you but he stopped himself. and then again, another apology had slipped on his mind. he couldn't say it back, not when he swore to only say those words to the person he loves.
toji finally closed his eyes as the sleepiness take over his body. he knew that the one for you, who'll cherish you, love you like how you deserve it will eventually come and toji was already certain that it wasn't him.
it was really true that first love never dies now that you've experienced it and toji was enough proof. you couldn't stop loving him the way he couldn't stop loving his past wife. how can you even wish someone to just die when they're already dead? it was weird but were you too cruel for that?
you just hope that someday, toji will look at you the way you've always been wanting and craving. you'll wait, even if your and his hair turns white or even if you only have enough time to live.
-
"just this once?" you whispered as toji held your cold hands as he placed it on his cheek.
toji closed his eyes as he placed your hand back on the bed, hospital bed.
"i'm really sorry.." he whispered back and it was enough for you to hear it.
a small laugh left your lips. it's so hard even to laugh now.
"that's fine, at least thank you for being here."
"i'll say it if you want."
"don't say something you don't mean, toji." you smiled at him.
"yeah, i guess so."
-
you sit up from the bed as you wake up. it was just dream, but it felt to real for it to be a dream.
you couldn't help but cry as you cover your mouth as you felt a hand on your back.
"what's wrong? another nightmare?" toji asked. even in your dreams, in your death bed, toji still didn't love you. even in your deathbed, toji still couldn't love you the way you wanted it. maybe it was sign that toji doesn't have to know your condition.
he doesn't need to know.
"it's nothing, let's go back to sleep?"
-
you went out again. toji heard you talking to someone on the phone, he guessed it was choso. he didn't mean to follow you but he still did.
toji ended up following you on a hospital and he was confused. are you sick? toji asked himself, but you always looked fine.
he anxiously tap his finger on the steering as he waited for you on his car and it took you more than 30 minutes to finally come out of the hospital again.
why does that doctor have to send you out? even placing his hand on your back.
toji watched you enter your car. he waited for you to leave before going out of his car to enter inside the hospital.
he was hesitant as he finally arrived the front desk.
he cleared his throat as he faced the lady infront.
"is there a patient named (name)?"
"(name)?" the nurse repeated as she looked down the lists but your name wasn't there. "i'm so sorry but there is no patient named y/n here."
"ah, mr. fushiguro. did (name) send you here?" toji turned around at the voice and he was met with the same doctor he saw outside the hospital. toji's eyebrow furrowed as he fully faced him. "i'm choso by the way, y/n's doctor. i guess she already told you?"
-
"mama?" you heard as you enter the front door.
megumi approached you as he embraced you.
"did you just woke up?" you asked as both of you went back to the living room.
"a while ago.."
"where's your papa?"
"i woke up when he left."
"he left? but he said it's his day off today." you mumbled as you recalled his words. "anyway, what do you want for breakfast, gumi?"
-
as toji entered the house, yours and megumi's muffled voice can be heard at the front door. it looked like you and megumi is having fun. toji finally entered the kitchen and saw you with megumi baking a cupcake.
"papa!" megumi exclaimed as he jumped down the stool to approach his father, the icing on megumi's clothes being transferred to toji's clean ones.
"welcome back, toji. where have you been?" you asked and it suddenly smelled like cigarettes.
she looks fine. toji thought, but he was trying to stare at you as if it'll reveal something.
"toji?" you called him with concern as he snapped out of his thoughts.
"just went out. who's that for?"
"mama said she wants to try baking!" megumi answered.
"is that so?" toji said as megumi hummed in response.
toji looked at you once again, but his stare was making you uncomfortable. there's something weird about the way he looks at you and it was scaring you.
"i'll rest for a bit." toji said as he left the kitchen.
"mama, did you and papa fight?" megumi asked as he approached you.
"no megumi, he's just tired." you smiled down at megumi to reassure him and he warmly returned your smile.
toji didn't left the room that day.
you lay down beside him, still minding the space with both of your backs facing each other.
you heard shuffling behind you but you paid no mind to it. and when you turned your body to the other side, you were surprised to come face to face with toji.
"hey." you started as you slightly move back to create more space. "are you not hungry? there's still left over from the kitchen.
"i'm fine." toji replied with a low voice as you nod at his words.
"good night, toji." you said as you went back to face the other side again.
you were waiting for his reply but minute passed, he was still silent so you took a deep breath and sighed while closing your eyes. but the moment you closed your eyes, you felt him move close to you. he tucked his arms below your body and then the other above you as he easily pulled you close to him.
"good night." he replied as you look up at him with shock. did he just initiate a physical touch? he's not drunk, right?
"mhm." you simply replied, still surprised. toji didn't move away after that, he stayed still and so were you.
"are you drunk?" you asked that made toji open his eyes.
"i'm not. why asking?"
"well, it's- is this okay with you?" you asked and your voice was too small that toji almost didn't catch it.
you were out of words. it was weird for toji to act this way, especially when he's not even drunk. does he need something from you?
it hurts to think that he's only being affectionate because he needs something from you. either way, you'll still do what he'll ask you because you love him.
"are you not comfortable with it?" the way you immediately stopped him when he was about to remove his arms around you was a desperate move, but you didn't want to lose this chance because it might not happen again.
"no, i like it.. it's just, we've never done this before, shouldn't you be the one who's uncomfortable with this? i mean-"
"shh, let's just stay like this." toji murmured as he pulled you a little more close to him. his warm breath fanning on your neck.
you smiled but if felt like something was missing. you felt complete but at the same time you're not. you placed your hands on top of toji's that was around you as you give it a light squeeze.
"toji." you called his name in a whispered tone as you heard him hummed in response. "i'm not her, toji."
you didn't know why you even said those words. toji was hugging you but there were possibilities of him thinking his wife on you. because why would he suddenly do this if not for that?
as those words left your mouth, the warm presence that was comforting you suddenly disappeared. you weren't even surprised when he did that, just a tiny bit of ache in your heart.
heh, i knew it. but it's fine, i still loved it. you thought to yourself as you ended up curling your own body again, seeking for the comfort that was there just a while ago.
maybe someday, toji will hug you again, but that time, you hope he'll do it as him thinking of you, not while thinking of his deceased wife.
-
"i'm choso by the way, (name)'s doctor. i guess she already told you?"
"hah?" toji rasped in confusion as he looked at choso. so this was choso and he's a doctor.
not bad. toji thought.
"then why are you here, mr. fushiguro? your wife left just 5 minutes ago."
"i know." toji replied.
choso raised his eyebrow at the man in front of him.
"do you perhaps need something from me?" choso couldn't help but ask because the way toji looked at him was different.
"yes, i want to talk to you."
both of them ended outside the hospital where there were no people around.
-
toji slammed his hand on the wall, slightly embarrassed as he watch the doctor laugh in front of him.
"what's funny." toji rasped.
"sorry, sorry-" choso replied as he pants, he never had a good laugh these days. "mr. fushiguro, are you assuming that your wife is having an affair with me?"
"i didn't mean it that way, i was just asking if you and (name) have something."
"mr. fushiguro, ms. (name) is just my patient, i'm sorry if it came off that way." choso said as he leaned his back on the wall. "plus i know my boundaries, i wouldn't go with a married woman, y'know." toji calmed his body as he leaned his back on the wall like choso did.
"she's always talking to you on the phone, that's why i assumed."
"(name) told me a lot about you."
"i'm hoping it's the good ones."
"not even once your wife badmouthed you, mister." choso replied as he offered toji a cigarette to which he declined.
"she's not sick, is she?" toji asked.
"mhm, your wife was diagnosed with arrhythmia."
"arrhythmia?" toji faced choso at his words.
"her heartbeat is irregular, mr.fushiguro. are you not taking a good care of your wife?" choso tried to joke him but he didn't expect toji to stay silent. "well, i hope she's not lying when she said she doesn't smoke and drink?"
"no, she doesn't." toji said.
"anxiety or any emotional distress can cause this. are you perhaps having a lot of fight? her condition has been like this for a long time now."
"no, we don't fight." toji said "is it harming her that much?" toji asked
"for now, it's not. but if she doesn't take a good care of herself, it may lead to a heart failure."
"how to avoid this?" choso looked at toji in disbelief. did you seriously kept it a secret to your husband?
-
"toji." you called him as he was about to leave the house. "i'm sorry about last night." you said.
you frowned as you heard the front door close. toji was ignoring you. you felt guilty for saying those words last night but you just couldn't hold back anymore. it was hurting you. why would you say that when toji only wanted to be close with you?
you sighed in defeat as you turn around, continuing the dishes you were doing.
you knew how toji hated it when it's about his wife, yet you still brought it up.
-
"toji!" you scolded.
it was yet another night where he came home drunk, you're almost starting to get used of this scenario.
"i said don't touch me!" he yelled back as you stumbled back a bit from the force of his push.
you were getting scared. not even once toji had yelled at you, this was the first time. was the words you said really did have an impact to him? now you feel more guilty than you were. you were scared that toji would start looking at you the way your family did.
only because of the stupid words you said.
"toji." you said in a more calmer tone as you guide him on his feet.
"let go." he mumbled.
"i will. let's go to the room first, okay?" you sighed in relief when toji did what you said without saying anything.
"mama.." toji's voice must've woke megumi up as he look at you with concerned eyes.
toji shrugged his shoulders to remove your hand on his shoulders as he kneeled infront of megumi.
"megumi, mama's not here anymore." toji said.
you were taken aback but megumi was more surprised than you were that he started crying.
he was pushing toji away from him as he cry.
"i hate you!" megumi yelled as he finally free himself from toji and hugged your leg.
"it's okay, 'gumi. go back to sleep." you said as you kneeled on megumi's level while he cried in your shirt.
toji stood up by himself as he entered your shared bedroom, closing the door with a force as you flinch in surprise.
"mama." megumi cried.
"it's fine now, he's just tired."
"you say that a lot of times." megumi said as he wiped his tears. "let's sleep together, mama." you look at your room door as you nod at megumi.
maybe toji needs to have his time alone for now.
-
you were humming a lullaby as you sing megumi to sleep.
you already sang the lullaby 3 times already and just like you, megumi couldn't sleep at all. he knew you were crying but he decided to not talk to you.
megumi pretended to be asleep as you finally stopped humming.
he heard you took a deep breath as you pulled his small body close to you.
"night night, 'gumi." he heard you whispered as he felt the dip on his bed beside him disappear.
megumi squinted his eyes and saw you walking out of his room as the door finally closed leaving him inside his now dark room.
megumi sat up from his bed as he silently followed you.
he was tiptoeing as he followed you to the kitchen.
you were sitting there, a glass of water between your hands as you stare at nothing.
you were too drained as you wiped the remaining tears your eyes could release.
megumi was lost in his thoughts and didn't hear you walking on his way, but before you could caught him, he showed himself to you.
"megumi?" you called him, slightly surprised at his presence. "what's wrong?"
"um water, mama." he said as he noticed you smile a bit before giving him a glass of water.
-
"all good?" you asked as megumi tucked you and himself on the blanket as he hug you. he nods in response as he sighed in content.
"mama, i will tell papa tomorrow to say sorry." he said.
"it's fine, 'gumi. he's just tired and mama understands." you said as you brushed megumi's hair with your fingers.
"okay, i love you mama."
"i love you too, now go back to sleep you have school tomorrow."
-
when megumi woke up the next morning, you were still sleeping beside him. he kissed your tear stained cheek as he went out to start his day.
he found his father on the kitchen counter, holding his head with his hand.
toji noticed megumi's presence as he immediately approached his son.
"where's your mama?" toji asked as he placed his hands on megumi's shoulders.
megumi noticed that his father was restless, but he deserved it for yelling at you last night.
"say sorry to mama, papa." megumi said.
"ha? where's she?"
"in my room. mama was crying because of you!" megumi yelled, he almost wanted to cry as he recalled your unreadable expression last night. "i saw mama drink so many medicine, papa." megumi muttered.
toji massaged his temples as he made his way to megumi's room with megumi following behind.
toji slowly opened the door and sighed in relief as he finally saw you.
megumi's small blanket couldn't even cover your whole body as toji approached you and gently carried you to the bed, transferring you to your shared room.
"let's not wake up mama for now." toji said as he pats megumi's head. "i'll drive you to school."
-
"papa." megumi called as he fixed the seatbelt of the front seat. toji hummed in response as he waited for the street lights to turn green. "do you hate mama?" megumi was hesitant at his question.
"no." toji responded plainly.
"but you always make mama cry." megumi mumbled. "you always say that she's not my mama and it's hurting her. i always see mama cry, i just stay quiet." toji ignored his son as he started driving.
-
toji went back home after sending megumi to school and you were still sleeping.
he sat on the bed as he tried to recall anything that has happened last night but he couldn't remember anything.
he felt you moved as he look at you. you were finally awake.
you saw him as you sit up from the bed.
"good morning." you greeted as you rubbed your eyes.
toji was waiting for you to say something about last night but you didn't and instead smiled at him as you stretched your body.
"megumi!" you exclaimed as you realized that you were supposed to send him to school.
"i already drove him to school."
"ah really? thank you." you said as you finally relaxed your body. "then, what do you want for breakfast?"
-
has it been always like this? toji asked himself as he watched you prepare breakfast.
is it always like this the next day when he came home every night he's drunk?
you were all smile but this was the first time toji noticed that it was forced. is it really always like this?
toji wasn't the one to get nervous but when he recalled the nights he came home drunk, he couldn't recall anything.
he must've said or did something hurtful to you that you do not wish to tell him the next morning.
megumi was always a witness to it but you always tell him to stay quiet.
"i'll go out later." you said as he snapped out of his thoughts.
"okay. want me to accompany you?" toji noticed the way you immediately declined his request and there, he exactly knew where you're headed.
toji watched you drink the hot chocolate in your mug.
"(name)." he called.
"mh?"
"i'm sorry. if i ever did something last night."
not just last night, every time he comes home drunk, toji would say something hurtful and you were even convinced that he means some of it.
the first time he came home drunk, he told you he couldn't love you the way you love him and that was fine for you. but second time he came home drunk, he said the words i love you, but it wasn't for you. he said i love you but not your name in it. the third night he came home drunk, he compared you to his wife saying that you couldn't replace the role of being megumi's mother and you know that.
megumi was there and he cried with you saying that he loves you and don't listen to what his father said to you. but then it happened again. he watch his father get mad at everything, including you, his mother who just wanted to help him get to bed. he knew his father wasn't in his right mind because he was drunk. he cried with you again that night.
megumi got used to seeing you hiding your sobs from him. he already saw you cry silently or sometimes you just sit there to stare at nothing. megumi once caught you breathing heavily on the bathroom and there was a blood on the sink. you told him that it was nothing and megumi was just a kid, of course he would believe you that it was just nothing.
but as megumi continues to grow, he's starting to think that his father hates you. he started observing the two of you and there was nothing wrong with your relationship, except when his father is drunk. don't get megumi wrong, he still loves her real mother but you were the one who raised him. he haven't seen his mother once, only in pictures.
"(name)?" you snapped out of your thoughts as you looked from your plate to toji.
"i said i'm sorry." he said.
"it's fine, you were drunk."
"so i did said something, huh." toji cursed under his breath as he heard you laugh.
"don't worry, it's not that deep."
it was. but remembering it will only hurt you more.
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you've been having nightmares these days and you don't know if it's a sign for something. every dream you had was weird. there were times where toji would appear in your dreams. sometimes he hates you and sometimes, he loves you that you don't even want to wake up anymore.
you were currently sitting inside a hospital room as choso stood meters away from you.
"are you even taking a rest like i told you to?"
"yes."
"then why is your condition getting worse?" choso's words made you look at him, he was writing something on a paper.
"really?"
"really. (name), i am telling you this now, you'll suffer the consequences if you don't listen to me."
"but i do take rest."
"taking rest isn't enough, you should avoid your heart from getting tired. have you experienced panic attack these past few weeks?"
"n-no."
"you're lying."
"i'm not."
"your husband's worried, you know." you don't know why choso words made your heart clench, but you just hope his words were true.
"really?" you said as if you weren't convinced. choso looks at you and back at the paper as he sighed.
"i'll add another medicine, make sure to take it on time."
"why do we have to do these things?" you said as choso looked up from the paper to you.
"what do you mean?" choso asked as he raised his eyebrow at you.
"i mean, isn't better to just wait until it's over?" choso got silent, clearly surprised at the words you said. you noticed his reaction as you released a nervous laugh. "what am i even saying.." you said as you laughed at yourself.
"are you even hearing yourself?"
"i know what i said, choso. but don't worry, i was just joking."
"not a funny one. you just don't know it (name) but your husband's really worried."
"if you think your words would calm me, it's not working."
"huh?" you stood up from the seat before choso could say something.
"i guess we're already done here?" you said as choso nods.
"(name). take a proper rest."
-
you fell asleep the moment you got home and when you went downstairs, it was messy.
the television was on full volume and megumi was nowhere to be seen. toji was on the kitchen sleeping, there was a consumed bottle of liquor beside him.
"toji." you shake him to wake him up but it didn't work at first try so you did it again.
he was awake all of the sudden as he look around the kitchen. toji was drunk again as you thought of the things that happens every night he came home drunk. you hope he would just stay silent and wouldn't say anything anymore.
"let's get you to bed." you said as you helped him stand up but before you and toji reached the room, you fell on the floor as you entered the room. and the scene was so familiar to you.
"(name)." he called as you snapped out of the memory. "(nameee)." he called again.
"i'm here." you said.
"you're here?" he said as he touched your face as if he doesn't believe you. "you're really here." he said as he smiled and embraced you.
and you, you were taken aback, but you just let him.
"why did you leave me?" he said.
there he goes again.
"hey, look at me." he said as he held your cheeks with his thumb and pointer finger.
why does looking at him hurts.
"don't ever think that i don't love you, okay? i'm so grateful that you're here.." you were waiting for it. for him to call his wife's name but you didn't expect that he'll say yours. "if i started loving you, are you going to stay?" he said and you were speechless. "i'm sick of people leaving me." he mumbled as he embraced you. "i don't want you to leave. i promise, i'll love you like how you want it. i'll do it, i'll move on from her but in exchange, don't ever leave, okay? we'll heal you, you'll be fine."
what was he even talking about? it's not like your leaving or something, right?
you sighed, brushing off his words as you placed him on the bed.
"don't force yourself to love someone, toji. go to sleep, i'll look for megumi."
-
you were about to leave the house as you heard sobs coming from the house. and when you followed the sound, you were surprised to see megumi who tucked himself at a kitchen cabinet.
"mama!" he said as he embraced you.
"megumi, what are you doing inside the cabinet?"
"i'm hiding." he frowned as you wiped his tears.
"from who?" you said with a soft voice to calm him.
"mama.." megumi mumbled as his voice slightly cracked. "papa said you'll leave us."
"he said that?" you said as you kneeled into his level and he nods at your question. "he's lying." you said as megumi sighed in relief and embraced you once again.
"papa said you'll leave just like my real mama." megumi pulled away from the hug as he saw your surprised expression. "it's not true, right? mama."
your forced a smile as you pinched megumi's cheeks.
"of course, mama won't leave. never."
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"toji, can you drive megumi to school today?" you muttered as you saw toji who was about to leave the room.
"what was that?" toji asked as he closed the door once again and approached you. you sit up from the bed and your vision started to spin.
"bring megumi to school." you said followed with a small cough.
"yeah sure." he hesitantly said.
"thanks." you mumbled as you lay back down on the bed.
"you okay?" toji asked as you felt him sit on the bed.
"i'm fine, must be a fever." you said but toji wasn't convinced and placed the back of his palm on your forehead to your neck and you were burning. toji was about to say something but he felt your cold hands on his.
"i'm fine, don't worry." you assured him with a smile as you let go of his hand and faced the other side. you were burning but your hands were too cold.
"i'll be back." toji said, immediately leaving the room as you heard the doorknob clicked.
-
toji was back after sending megumi to school. megumi insisted on seeing you before leaving but if he found out you're sick, toji knew megumi wouldn't want to go to school anymore. you weren't in the room when toji entered.
he started looking for you around the house and the kitchen was the last place he expected to see you. he sighed in relief when he saw you sleeping on the table with a glass of water in your right hand. toji's eybrows furrowed as he silently approached you. he can hear your soft snores as he went closer and closer.
"(name)?" he said in a whispered tone and you woke up within a second as you look around.
"oh?" was the only word you let out as you felt toji's hands on your shoulders. "i fell asleep."
"what are you doing here?" he said as you tried to stand up but you failed. you don't have the energy even to stand up.
"i got thirsty but i got tired before i even drink water." you said as you finally drink the glass of water.
"you should see a doctor." toji suggested.
"i'm finee." you said as you let toji guide you back to the room.
slowly, you sit from the bed as toji helped you to lay down. he placed a blanket above your body and went straight to the bathroom inside the room. he went back with a wet towel and a bucket of water as he started wiping your face with it.
"thank you." you whispered, even your throat was hurting. toji didn't respond as he continued on his task and after that, toji took another towel and placed it above your head.
"toji." you called as he stopped at the door he just opened.
'can you stay please?'
how badly you wanted to ask him to stay with you, but the dreams you had before started replaying in your mind. maybe you shouldn't. "it's nothing." you said as you pulled the blanket above your chin.
toji seemed to notice your distress as he silently closed the door and approached you again.
"i will be back. i'll just buy you food." he said as you covered your whole body with the blanket.
"okay." you said and you couldn't stop yourself from smiling.
do you have to be sick for toji to look out for you? maybe being sick is not that bad after all.
toji came back after five minutes, it's not that you're counting though, you were just bored.
"where did you go?" you asked as he sat on the edge of the bed.
"i'll just order, what do you want- i mean, you can't eat anything for now, let's just order a soup." toji looked at you as he heard you laugh at his words.
"there's no need, toji. it's not that hard to cook a soup." you said as you sit up from the bed, only for toji to push you back down on the bed as you let him place the blanket above you.
"don't be stubborn."
"toji, don't tell me you can't cook a soup." you said.
"it's not like that, okay? i just-" he paused for a moment before turning his back on you. "you seemed like you want a some company, that's why i am here." he said.
speechless, that's how you describe yourself now.
"is that so?" you said as you watch him scratch his head.
"i'll do this on my own way, okay?"
"okay. but let me, i know exactly where to order a good soup."
-
"this looks plain as hell." toji said as he opened the soup you ordered.
"but it's delicious, and why are you complaining?" you said as you raised your eyebrow at him. "i'm the one who's gonna eat it, not you!" you exclaimed as toji huffed in response.
toji started pouring the soup on a bowl before placing a chair beside the bed. and for a moment, you look at him and he looks at you.
"it's fine, i can do it myself." you said, trying to reach the bowl on his hand but he moved it slightly away from your reach. he hesitated for a moment before taking the spoon on his finger.
"ahh." he instructed.
"toji, this is embarrassing." you muttered as you move away from the spoon.
"how are you gonna get better if you're being stubborn?"
"just let me!!"
"tch, let me handle this." he said as you, again, tried to take the spoon from him but it was useless so you did what he said as he slowly placed the spoon with soup in your mouth.
it was quiet as toji continues to feed you, until it's the last spoon of the soup, you suddenly let out a cough as the soup dripped from the corner of your mouth and to the duvet.
"oh." you mumbled as toji reached out for the tissues. "sorry." you mumbled as you started to wipe the soup on the blanket and then the corner of your mouth. "we have to change blankets, i guess."
it was too sudden that you didn't have time to process everything when toji leaned close to you. you can feel his hot breath on your cheek as he pressed his lips on the corner of your lips, with him tasting the soup he just fed you.
you were sure you were losing your breath as he pulled away as if nothing happened.
"ah, sorry." he said as if he just didn't kiss you. he started to gather the paper bag of the soup earlier and took the blanket on your hands. "i'll get a new one." he said as he finally left the room.
-
why is he acting so normal when you're there sitting on the bed, trying to calm your speeding heart at the moments earlier.
you cursed under your breath as you hide your face with your palms.
why are you even embarrassed when kissing is normal to a married couple? it was normal but it was unusual for toji to act like that, you haven't even hold hands with him but a kiss? that's way more unexpected.
-
toji gently closed the door of the room as he leaned his weight on it.
"fuck." he muttered as he clutched the blanket on his hand.
seeing you wipe the soup on the blanket with that smile on your face urge toji to do that. he himself didn't expect it too. he cursed once again before proceeding to the task in hand.
-
you were startled when the door opens.
it was toji carrying a new blanket.
"i'll pick up megumi soon." he said.
"what about your work?"
"i took a day off." you hoped he did because you were sick. "you can't be left alone." he said as if he just read your mind.
"oh. thank you."
"not a problem. make sure to do the same when i got sick too." he joked, but it didn't fail to put a smile on your face.
"of course, i would love too! but i'm not saying that i want you to get sick!"
-
"mama!" you can hear megumi's voice from afar as he finally entered your room, throwing his lunchbox bag somewhere as he approached you.
"megumi, don't get to close." you said.
"mama! are you okay?"
"megumi, stop yelling." toji said as he entered the room, picking up megumi's lunchbox bag he threw minutes ago.
"you said mama is not sick!"
"megumi, don't yell at your papa." you said as megumi finally faced you, his face turning into a frown as he faced his father once again.
"i'm sorry, papa." he muttered.
toji was impressed that you could make megumi easily obey you. a thing he couldn't do when megumi was 3 years old.
"come on, change into your home clothes." toji said as he carried megumi like a sack of rice.
"i'll be back, mama!" he said before he and toji disappeared from your view and toji came back after a minute before closing the door with a sigh.
"come and rest." you said as you pat the empty space beside you.
toji sat beside you as the surroundings became quiet. he cleared his throat as he took the plushie megumi bought you and squeezed it.
"i'm sorry." he said.
"why?" you said, completely confused at the apology he just uttered.
"earlier. i didn't mean it."
oh.
"w-well, it's fine." you said as you conceal your stutter with a cough. "it's not like i'm complaining.."
"ha?"
"i mean- don't get the wrong idea!" you said, trying to find the right words. do you say it's okay, i liked it? or it's okay, i enjoyed it? "but.. did you regret it?" you asked, and the tension suddenly became heavy.
he was quiet and must be thinking about it.
"i did-" he paused, and that small pause sure made you nervous. "not?.." toji said in a questioning manner. you felt nervous and relieved at the same time.
"what about you?" he asked and you were more than confident at your answer.
"no. if i'm being honest, i really.. liked it." the last sentence were whispered.
"was that your first kiss?" he asked and you only hummed in response. it was true that toji was your first kiss, even if it was just a peck, his lips still touched yours.
you felt toji shift on the bed as he faced you.
"come closer." he said and you hesitated for a bit as you finally faced him and crawled a bit closer to him.
you were looking anywhere but his eyes as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. and then he's leaning close again.
"tell me to stop and i will." he mumbled, forcing you to look in his dark blue eyes.
"toji, are you sure about this?" you mumbled as you clutched your pajamas under the blanket. "don't do something you'll regret, toji."
he cuts you off by finally kissing you and it wasn't just a peck like you expected it.
he continued and deepened the kiss, until you're laying on the bed and when he finally pulled away, his hands was between your head as you clutch his clothes on his shoulders.
"toji-"
"shh.. i do not regret any of it."
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"i need to confine you for 15 days, so i could monitor you properly."
"but i am resting!"
"yes you are, but it's not enough. it's better if it's being observed that you're taking a rest."
"is there another way?" you said as you clutch your phone in your hand. "i actually don't know how to tell my husband." you said as choso looked at you.
"but i already called him. he said he's on his way here."
"huh, what do you mean?" you said, completely surprised that it made you stand up from the chair. "he doesn't even know that i am sick." you said. "choso, i told you to keep it a secret right?"
"i'm sorry, he accused us of having an affair. i needed to." and then there was a knock on the door, and you knew who exactly it is. toji entered the room and you look away from him.
"take a sit, mr. fushiguro." choso said as he instructed him to sit beside you. you weren't looking at him but you can feel toji's burning gaze at you. choso left the room for a moment and being alone with toji became suffocating right now.
you suddenly felt his hand above yours. you thought he would judge or even get mad at you but you but he didn't.
"we'll talk later, okay?" he said as choso finally came back.
-
"15 days? if that's enough. as long as you treat my wife." toji said. he's doing all the talking while you sit there in silence and.. he really did call you his wife.
toji thanked choso after that as he held your hand and pulled you with him. you gave choso a last glance, a glance as if he just betrayed you and he was looking at you with his apologetic gaze, and there, you and toji left the hospital.
"when did you found out?" you asked.
"a few weeks ago. i followed you." toji said as the signal lights turned red and there was a faint sound of music in the background. "why didn't you tell me?" he asked and you hesitated for a moment as you sit up straight on the front seat.
"choso said it wasn't that life threatening, that's why i thought i don't have to tell anyone." you were mumbling that toji almost didn't understand your words.
"not life threatening but now you need to be confined for 15 days?" toji said and you went silent. "do you not trust me?" he suddenly asked and you immediately disagreed at his words.
"no!" you said. "sorry, i just don't want to be a burden and.. i thought you wouldn't care." you said, whispering the last sentence as you wait for his response. and he didn't respond anymore, until both of you reached the house.
"toji, i'm really sorry." you said and he finally looked at you.
"we're in this together, why would you think i wouldn't care?" he asked and you frowned.
"i'm sorry toji. i just didn't have enough courage to tell you because.. it's because of your wife."
"my wife?" he scoffed, raising his eyebrow as you nod.
"i don't know how to tell you because all you could think of is your wife!" you were frantic as you explain, trying not to say the wrong words because it might trigger him in some way as your emotions get the best of you. "i thought you wouldn't care because i'm not her." you said as you look down on the ground, trying to hold the tears that was eager to come out.
"but i do care, this is not about her. this is about you."
"you don't understand it, toji." you said.
"then i apologize if i came of that way, that you thought i wouldn't care because all i think of is my wife." toji said, emphasizing the words with sarcasm. "but you're my wife too, my wife now." he said, the sarcasm dropping on his voice.
"but i'm not the presence you've been wanting for, i know my place, toji. you reminded me a lot of times already." you said.
when did talking about your illness turned into fighting over his deceased wife?
toji sighed at your response and you took a step back when he stepped forward.
"i'm sorry, i want to be alone for now." you mumbled as you went to your shared room.
you and him were fine just last night? what happened now? it was all because of your stubbornness. it was obvious that toji was worried and cares for you but you're pushing him away.
you couldn't help it, you aren't used at him caring for you. you're mistaking his kindness into something, that maybe he's saying all of it out of pity or guilt.
that's right, now you realized why toji was weird the past few weeks. it's because he already found out and he just didn't tell you.
-
toji forced the door open with a key and he saw you sitting at the edge of the bed. you didn't even notice him until he sat beside you.
"i'm sorry." you said at the same time.
"sorry, i involved her again." you said as you felt toji's hand at your back.
"i didn't know you felt that way." he said.
"it's okay. i know how hard it is to move on from someone." you said as you held his free hand. "this will be the last time, toji." you said.
"what do you mean?" he asked.
"i'm not dying." you said with a laugh. "what i mean is this will be the last time i'll involve her. i finally realized it, toji. that no matter what i do, i still couldn't do anything for you to love me the way i love you." toji was about to say something but you cut him off. "but it's fine! like you said, we're married only in papers. i think i'm getting it now."
he was silent and you felt his touch disappear on your back.
"i just want to sort everything out before i stay in the hospital for 15 days." you mumbled as you sighed deeply. "sooo, friends then?" you said, the same exact words he told you before you two got married by force. but you saying it hit something in him, it made his chest ache.
he felt your hand take his and shake it, as if both of you just had an agreement. you didn't even wait for his reply as you finally sit up from the bed and started packing some clothes you'll be needing and he could only watch.
-
"don't worry, it'll only be 15 days. mr. fushiguro can still visit everyday but only around 10 AM to 5 PM." choso said as he glanced at your way.
"choso, did you know there was a theory that being hospitalized will only worsen your state. what if that happens to me?" you said.
"that's a lie, you're here not to worsen your state but to heal you."
"but what if? you know, everything is unexpected."
"why'd you even ask?"
"i don't know. i guess i'm ready?" you said and choso was looking at you with his judging expression. "just kidding." you said as you laugh.
"think of the people who cares for you. be strong for them because they're waiting for you to come home." choso said and megumi was the only person you could think of.
"my son." you said with a smile.
"yes, megumi's waiting for you so stop with your negative thoughts."
"ok, i will."
-
"mama!" your mood shifted as you heard megumi and he finally entered the room.
he was on his school uniform as he approached you, his upper body leaning on the bed as he tried to reach for you. you leaned close to him as megumi's small hands held you by your cheeks.
"mama, why are you here?" he asked as he frowned.
"mama needs to stay here for now but don't worry."
"why?"
"megumi, don't ask too many questions." toji said.
"it's fine." you said.
toji was watching you and his son interact.
megumi was still mad at him but megumi just didn't show you. toji mentally slapped himself as he recalled the happenings yesterday.
it was megumi frantically looking for you around the house.
-
megumi was running around the house as he call for you.
"where's mama?" he asked toji as he pants.
"she'll be staying at the hospital for now." toji said.
"why? is mama sick?" megumi said as he approached his father who's ignoring his question. "papa!"
"megumi, you won't understand. and yes mama is sick. now stop asking."
"why is mama sick!" megumi yelled, asking questions, eager to know the answers.
"she needs her heart to be healed. there, now go to your room megumi, you have school tomorrow."
"heart?" megumi muttered as he forced himself on his father's sight as toji sighed. "it's all your fault!" megumi yelled and toji ignored him. "you always make mama cry! now her heart is sad because of you! you always get mad at mama when you come home drunk!"
"what did you say?" toji said as he held megumi by his shoulders.
"i hate you! i wish it's you in the hospital not mama!" megumi said before he could even realize his words as toji let go of megumi. toji sat back on the couch and megumi ran out of the living room.
megumi cried to his sleep as he craved for your presence.
-
megumi was laying on top of you as you lull him to sleep.
"say sorry to your papa later, okay?" you said as megumi sniffed before nodding.
toji went to buy foods outside as megumi told you everything he said last night.
"it's not your papa's fault why i am here. remember that."
"mama get home soon, okay?"
"of course." you said as you pinch his nose. "stop crying now."
after some minutes, toji finally came back as you and megumi ate the food he bought.
-
megumi sat at the back seat as he hug his knees.
"i'm sorry, papa." he mumbled. "mama told me what i said is bad. i'm sorry." toji kept quiet as he drives.
he carried megumi who fell asleep at the back seat to his room, giving him a kiss on the forehead before leaving.
toji thought megumi was right, that maybe it was better that it was him in the hospital and not you. he didn't want to lose anyone anymore and toji hoped that he isn't too late.
he was blaming himself.
he already considered himself as a curse, because if he started to love someone, something bad will happen to them. worst is they disappear from his life.
is it a right choice to finally love you?
maybe not.
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first week of your stay in hospital wasn't that boring as you thought it would be.
toji would visit you at the starting hours and will bring megumi from school at the last hour, though megumi always sleep on top of you since he wanted to be close to you.
toji would sit there in silence as you hum megumi a lullaby he once heard his son humming while doing his assignments.
toji knew megumi were attached to you but he didn't knew he's that attached to the point that megumi always cry every night, looking for you and will end up sleeping beside toji occupying the space you usually lay at.
"mama, i counted and it's 8." megumi said as he sat on the hospital bed beside you.
"that's right, 7 days more and mama can go home."
"but 7 days is too long." megumi said as he frowned.
"it's not if you stop focusing on it."
"okay, i will not!" you and megumi laughed at the same time and he kneeled towards you as he started wiping your under eyes with his thumb.
"mama, are you sleeping enough?" megumi asked.
"i am. it's just so boring here when i'm alone." you said as megumi embraced you.
"don't worry, mama. i will pray so you can go back home."
"thank you, 'gumi."
"mama." megumi whispered after a minute of silence as you hummed in response.
"papa is not sleeping well." megumi said as he look around as if someone was there to listen but it was just you and him since toji left when someone called him.
"why?" you asked.
"papa misses you, mama."
"he does?" you said as megumi frantically nods.
"he said it to me!" megumi exclaimed excitedly.
-
megumi was sitting on the kitchen stool as he stared at the cereal on the table.
he hates cereal, he loves the food you cook for him but since you weren't around, he needed to eat it for now.
"stop crying megumi. she'll be back soon." toji said as he drink his black coffee.
megumi wiped his tears as he sniffed.
"i miss mama." megumi mumbled followed by another sniff and toji sighed as he sat beside his son.
"i miss mama too but don't worry, okay? let's have faith and be strong for her too."
"okay. but papa if mama is back you better not make her heart sad again." megumi said as he waited for his father's response and minutes passed, he noticed his father was spacing out. "papa?"
"oh?" toji snapped out of his thoughts as he smiled at megumi. "of course."
-
"bye bye mama." megumi said as he look away from you and you knew he was holding his tears back.
"come here." you said as he slowly approached you. "don't cry, you'll be back tomorrow, right?" megumi nods as he wiped his eyes with his sleeves. "bye bye." you said as you kissed his forehead before he went back beside toji as he held toji's hand.
you made an eye contact with toji "see you?" you said and he only nod in response.
why are you expecting something when you and toji already settled everything as friends.
toji looked at you for the last time before he and megumi left the room, leaving you alone again.
what are you even expecting? it's not like he would do something.
you just hope that he did something though. maybe a kiss on your forehead? or just a simple words of affirmation, but nevermind.
you sighed as you hug your knees, you should stop thinking about something that'll hurt your own feelings, you didn't want to worsen your state more, do you?
as if it was a coincidence, choso entered the room with papers in his hand.
"hi." you greeted as choso entered the room.
"how are you feeling?"
"nice, i guess?"
"good job, there's a lot of progress." he said.
"wow really?!" you said excitedly.
"yes, you don't have to stay for another 7 days. did your husband left already?"
"they just left."
"call them back so you could finally go home with them."
-
"mama, do you hate papa?" megumi suddenly asked as he looked up at you, both of you laying on the couch with book in your hand.
"why are you asking that question? of course i don't."
"really? but why do you and papa always fight?"
"we aren't fighting, megumi. that nights you saw him getting mad was because he wasn't in his right mind and he was drunk."
"oh, okay." megumi said as he lay down back on your chest as you started playing with his hair again.
"i love your papa so much, 'gumi. more than i love myself." you whispered as you smile.
-
toji is currently helping you with the laundry since he couldn't force you enough to take a rest.
"take a rest." toji said for the nth time as you wait for the laundry to finish.
"i'll just finish this." you said.
toji sighed, another attempt to force you failed and he could only wait for you.
he was getting impatient as he stand just at the door. he couldn't leave you alone, he's worried something might happen if he lose sight of you.
the same lullaby you're humming for megumi can be heard at the background as he watch you attentively.
but a sudden gasp left your mouth, your humming getting interrupted as you felt him hug you from behind.
"just take a rest." toji said.
"i'm almost finished." you said, an unexplainable feeling stirring in your system. it was as if you're uncomfortable at the physical touch he just initiated.
weren't you craving for his touch? now that he did it, why are you complaining?
"come on. i'll finish that. listen to your doctor, will you?" toji said as he held you by the wrist and pulled you going to the room.
"do you know what you'll do?"
"yeah, i do the laundry before." he said.
"okay, let me know if you're done."
-
you've met toji before, back when you were in middle school. maybe he doesn't remember you but you remember him.
that time when someone was making fun of you, he involved himself and protected you. it wasn't really a fight, it was just him pushing them away that made them run away from the scene.
"thank you." you mumbled and when he looked back at you, you noticed a band aid on the side of his mouth that was already red in color. he only looked at you as he walked away. but before he could get away, you held him by his hand. he made an irritated expression that scared you for a moment as you stutter through your words.
"i have a band aid here." you said as you look at each pocket of your clothes until you found it in your hoodie. toji was watching with an unimpressed look as he stand awkwardly. he hissed in pain when you removed the band aid from his lip and replaced it with a new one.
"there." you said. he didn't even thanked you as he left and when toji saw his reflection on a random store, the design of the band aid was really, embarrassing.. a hello kitty design.
-
you were at the middle of college when your parents told you to stop. they had arranged a marriage for you that you didn't even want. you didn't want to stop college, you wanted to be free but they wouldn't let you. when you met your soon to be husband, you thought he was familiar but couldn't place your finger with. you were sure that you saw this man somewhere, you just couldn't recall where.
the scar on the side of his mouth made you curious as you stare at it and it suddenly made toji self-conscious.
"ah this scar?" he said as your eyes shifted from his scar to his eyes. you were on your first 'date' with toji. the one both of your parents said to get to know each other more.
"i got this from abuse." he said straightforwardly as you laugh nervously.
"um.. did it hurt?" you asked.
"no." he said as he placed his hand near his scar and as if something slapped you mentally, toji's current position reminded you of someone. that kid from the playground, the one who defended you from the bullies, the one that you gave the band aid you just bought because you accidentally scraped your knee, but you gave it to him. toji noticed you genuinely smile at him followed with a wholehearted laugh.
"what's wrong?" he asked and you only shake your head in response.
what a coincidence. who would've thought that the kid you kept on searching for, the reason why you stayed at the playground for who knows how long, hoping to see him again was being married to you? what an unexpected turn of your life.
-
getting to know each other means getting to know everything in your life. personal or not. it was as if that 'date' made your heart full and ended up being broken in the end. toji was the kid you've been looking for, for a long time now but then he suddenly told you that he was already married and they had a son together.
he clarified that he only accepted the marriage because he didn't have a choice. he told you he just didn't want to disobey his parents and megumi just need a presence of a mother.
"being friends will do." he said as you hesitantly nod.
-
you didn't even know why you suddenly remembered the past.
"(name), where did you put-" the words died in toji's throat as he opens the door, only to find you standing at one of his drawers, a folder in your hand as you continue to stare at the paper.
the folder was immediately snatched at your hands as toji placed it back on his drawer.
"that's–" you gasped.
"no, listen–" toji mentally cursed himself. he forgot to throw the divorce papers he requested back when it's the first month of your relationship. he forgot to throw it when he was cleaning his drawers the day you were at the hospital
you looked at him, and he hated that look in your face as another curse left his mind. what should he say? how should he explain it.
"well, if that's what you want."
"no." toji said as he moved close to you but your instinct told you to step back and you did. "that was, that wasn't.." he was stuttering through his words as he heard you sigh.
your heart was aching but you have to ease the pain. you didn't want to go back to the hospital again.
"it's fine, toji. you don't have to explain." you said as you sit at the edge of the bed.
"that was before. first month of us being married." toji explained and the small shift of your mood got unnoticed by him.
"is that so?" you said, looking up at him. "maybe i did something you didn't like to ask for divorce papers, huh." you chuckled as you recalled the first month of your marriage. it was megumi finally addressing you as his mother.
toji admitted that day that he didn't want megumi calling you 'mama' but he didn't want to wipe the genuine smile on his son's face so he just let him call you his mother.
"i'm sorry." he said followed by a strong curse.
"why?"
"fuck, i'm sorry. i didn't- that was before. i don't want a divorce now." toji said and the ache in your chest suddenly disappeared as you gave him a teasing grin.
"why? don't tell me mr. fushiguro is finally starting to love me." you joked and it was clearly just a joke, but the tension suddenly changed. he wasn't laughing at your words but was looking straight in your eyes with something in it.
"i'm just joking.." you said as toji finally looked away from you. he couldn't stop cursing mentally. he was lost in his thoughts and didn't feel you moving close to him and when you were about to place a hand on his shoulder, to simply get his attention, he suddenly held you by the wrist.
"toji, what's wrong?" you asked. he started gripping your wrist tightly and both of you were interrupted by the knock on the door.
"papa! lala wants to talk to you on the telephone!" megumi yelled as you look at the door but when you look back at toji, he suddenly leaned close to you, giving your lips a peck, as if it was to reassure you and suddenly he was at the door.
you were frozen in your spot as you watch him close the door, your hand flying to your lips and caress it and instead of an ache, your heart was beating with happiness.
-
it was one of those nights where toji couldn't sleep again. it happens when something is bugging his mind. he was staring at the ceiling with a deadpanned expression and your shifting caught his attention. both of you were surprised when both met each other's eyes.
it suddenly became awkward.
toji sat up from the bed as he leaned his back on the headboard. you stayed at your position as you stare at the ceiling. there are questions that wanted to be answered, but you think staying quiet would be the best option for now.
toji side glanced your figure, and there were space enough for another person to fit. has it always been like this? now toji is sure that it has been always like this.
toji doesn't know what to do as he continuously stare at you until you finally look at him. (his gaze was burning holes into you.)
there, you sat up from the bed too, doing what he did as you cleared your throat to ease some of the awkwardness that was around.
"can't sleep?" he asked.
"yeah, what about you?"
"can't sleep." you chuckled at his response as you bend your knees close to your chest. why is it starting to get cold?
"about the divorce-"
"i already told you that it was before.. i have no intention in pushing the divorce."
"why?" you asked and toji thinks he doesn't even know why. you were itching to know the reason when toji could've pushed through the divorce long ago.
"why? don't tell me mr. fushiguro is finally starting to love me." you recalled those words you said last morning and to your side, it was clearly just a joke so you removed that as one of the reasons why.
"was it because you found out i was sick?"
"no." he felt embarrassed on how quick he disagreed with your question. "i mean-"
"hm, what could be the reason.." you mumbled as if you're talking to yourself and toji couldn't help but observe you.
"it's best if we sleep for now." toji said as you hummed in response and started tucking yourself at the duvet, facing the wall. you weren't even surprised when you felt him pull you close to his chest. it was as if you're expecting him to do that. and he really did and there, you faced him as you wrapped your arms around his figure with your face hiding on his chest. toji inhaled your shampoo as he sighed in satisfaction.
"will this help you to sleep?" you asked as you look up at him. toji looked down at you with that stupid smirk on his face.
"i could ask you the same question." he said as he chuckled when you went back to hide your face on his chest.
"it will." you whispered but toji surely heared it clearly.
"then that goes the same for me."
-
"mama loves to cuddle." megumi said as he looked at toji's plain expression. megumi copied his father's expression after looking away from him, continuing the assignment he was doing.
"that's all?" toji said as megumi scoffed at him.
"you asked me what mama likes the most!" megumi argued as he fully face his father. "that's the most, mama loves cuddles!"
"okay okay, stop yelling." toji said when he heard your footsteps approaching them.
"good morning, mama!" megumi greeted as he ran towards you to hug you.
"good morning, megumi." you said, looking at toji as you nod at him.
"morning." he said as megumi pulled you on the table at the living room, showing his little drawing to you and toji.
"what's that?" you asked as megumi smiled.
"this is mama," megumi said as he pointed at you. "this is papa and this is 'gumi."
oh. it was a family drawing. your heart started beating through your ears as you look at megumi.
"my teacher said our assignment is to draw a family!" megumi exclaimed excitedly as he faced you and toji.
family? could you even consider yourself as one of their family? megumi could've drawn his real mother, why did he have to-
your thoughts were interrupted when you felt a hand on your back. you looked back and saw toji looking at you, it was different, the way his eyes calmed you. you awkwardly smiled at him as he pulled you close to his side while placing his other hand on megumi's shoulder.
"what's this?" toji asked as he pointed at a drawing which is color white and black.
"it's my dream dog! i want white and black." megumi said. your heart was racing as you feel the warmth of toji's palm on your side.
"why is mama carrying a stick?" toji asked as megumi huffed.
"so she can beat you when you hurt her again." megumi said as you laugh, finally joining in their conversation.
"that's cruel, megumi. i couldn't hurt your papa." you didn't even feel when toji already removed his hand on your side as he watch you and megumi, a smile making its way on his face.
-
"there.." you said as you dropped the pencil at the table.
"wow!" megumi exclaimed as you revealed some changes in his drawing.
"what are you holding, mama?" megumi asked.
"roses, mama loves roses." you said as you pat megumi's head.
"oh okay! then 'gumi loves roses too." megumi said as he grinned at you.
"but there are many types of roses." you said as you fixed megumi's disheveled shirt.
"really? what's your favorite among them, mama? megumi asked.
"the purple one!" you said as megumi nods at you.
"why not red, mama? red is famous one right?"
"yes, but i love purple more. because it means love at first sight." you said as you bump megumi's nose with your pointer finger.
you watch him look to the side as you follow his line of sight. he was looking at his father. you forgot that toji was even there as you look away with embarrassment. clearing his throat, toji stood up from the couch as he brushed his hair with his fingers.
"i'm gonna prepare for work." he said before leaving as megumi watch his father disappeared from his sight.
"mama, is papa your love at first sight?" megumi asked when his father wasn't around anymore. you smiled as you recalled the very first day you laid your eyes on him.
"he is." you said with admiration in your tone. "did you know i met your papa when he was a kid?" you said.
"really? what's he like?!" megumi asked with excitement as he leaned close to you.
"hm, he's still the same.. but he saved me from bullies." you said as megumi kept quiet, wanting to know more. "i scraped my knee but i gave my band aid to him because his lips were bleeding."
"is that why papa have a scar?"
"i guess?" you said as you ruffled megumi's hair. "it's just a secret between us, okay?" you whispered as megumi nods at you.
unbeknownst to you, he heard everything you told megumi as he recalled that day where he first got the scar on his lip, that hello kitty band aid. so it was you, huh.
-
toji left after eating breakfast and it was past lunch when you heard a knock on your front door.
but you weren't expecting visitors, who could it be?
you were surprised when you're met with, no one. but there was a bouquet of purple roses on your doorsteps.
you picked it up as you read the note.
'this is for you, i hope you like it.'
you bit your bottom lip to suppress the smile but it couldn't be helped.
you inhaled the scent of the roses as you finally went inside the house.
-
"thank you for the roses, toji." night finally approached as toji looked up from his laptop and to you.
"what roses?" he asked as you look at him in disbelief.
"that- you, weren't you the one-" toji suddenly laughed as he closed his laptop.
"i'm just kidding." he said as you glared at him.
"not funny!" you said, almost embarrassed when you stammered with your words just a minute ago.
"did you like it?" toji asked as he started preparing the duvet.
as if it was already planned, you move close to him as he finally covered both of your bodies with the duvet. "i love it."
toji's arms automatically made its way to wrap securely around you.
"how's your check up with choso?" toji asked as he switched off the lamp.
"he recommended me another medicine."
"huh? why? i thought you're getting better?" toji asked as you silently laugh at him.
"yes i am, it was just a vitamin, i mean."
"ah, is that so?"
"mhm."
"sleepy already?" toji asked in a teasing tone and you only further hide your face on his chest. "goodnight." he mumbled.
"i love you, toji." you mumbled against his chest. "you can say it back when you're ready." you said as you look up at him and toji lightly smiled at you.
"i'm almost there.." he mumbled.
"i can still wait.." you said as you looked at him with glint in your eyes. toji let you kiss him on the lips before you went back on hiding your face. he chuckled as he pulled you closer with his hand behind your head.
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it was a random night, a random song that was being played on the radio can be heard as you sit down on the couch of the living room. the lights were all closed, the street light outside being the only source of light inside your home.
toji wasn't home yet and megumi is already sleeping in his room.
your head almost fell on the couch when the click of the door woke you up.
toji sighed as he closed the door.
"i'm home." he muttered, but didn't expect to see you approaching him in the dark.
"welcome back." you greeted as you took his bag on his hand, guiding him on the living room.
"have you eaten?" you asked.
"ye-"
"let's eat together, i'm hungry!" you exclaimed as you held him by his hand, guiding him to the kitchen. well maybe eating dinner for the second time wouldn't hurt. toji thought.
"megumi?" he asked.
"already sleeping." you replied with an almost sleepy voice as toji sighed.
"you didn't have to wait for me." he said as he stand beside your almost sleeping form. "let's get you to bed." toji said and carried you in a bridal style.
"toji.. let's sleep." you said as he unbuttoned his almost tight polo.
"yeah, i'll just changed my clothes."
"hurryy."
"did you drink?" toji asked as he lied beside you.
"no."
"why are you being clingy?" he asked.
"miss you." you mumbled, wrapping your arms on his figure. "did you miss me?" you asked and toji couldn't help but smell you.
you didn't even smell like alcohol.
"i'm not drunk, i'm just sleepy." you said as if you just read his mind.
"alright."
"you didn't answer me yet."
"i did." he said as you squealed in happiness.
"okay, good night. i love you." you mumbled.
toji gaze softened as he pulled you close to his chest.
"good night." i love you too.
-
it was late at night again and toji was still not home. megumi was sent back home by a school bus last afternoon.
you haven't eaten yet. you were waiting for toji so both of you could eat dinner at the same time again and the door clicked as you stood up from the couch.
"i'm home." toji mumbled.
"welcome back!" you exclaimed.
if yesterday you were sleepy, today you have a lot of energy. you took the bag from toji's hand as you walked ahead, only to be pulled back when toji held your wrist, placing a kiss on your forehead as he loosened his tie.
it sure caught you off guard as toji walked past you as if nothing happened.
"well, have you eaten?" you asked, almost stuttering.
"yes." he responded and you mentally frowned.
"okayy." you said as you help him remove his blazer.
"what about you?" he asked, but before you could answer, your stomach growling did it for you. embarrassing.
"well, i guess eating dinner for the second time wouldn't hurt, right?" he said.
-
"hi, welcome back.." you slowly said as you took toji's bag in your hand.
"i'm home." he muttered, walking past you but suddenly he went back and give your forehead a kiss before removing his watch.
"bad day?" you asked, helping him remove his blazer.
"yeah, i think i couldn't eat dinner with you tonight." he said with a frown.
"it's fine! you go and rest." you said, giving him a smile of reassurance.
toji frowned once again when you made your way to the kitchen. you were humming a song but you were stopped when you saw toji sitting at his usual spot. you blinked twice at him as he sighed.
"well, i got hungry." he said, not looking at your way.
"okay! i'll re-heat some more then." you exclaimed with a smile and toji couldn't help but mirror it.
"thank you for the food."
-
another bad day.
you noticed it the moment toji entered the house with a slumped shoulders.
"welcome back." you greeted, doing the same routine.
"i'm home." he responded, hooking an arm around you before placing a kiss on your.. lips? "what's dinner for today?" he asked as he started unbuttoning his polo. "(name)? what's wrong?" he asked.
"w-well, i made your favorite." you stammered as you made your way infront of him, helping him remove his blazer.
toji made his way first at the kitchen, taking a mug from the cabinet and it caught your attention.
"coffee?" you asked as he nods and suddenly, you placed a hand on his back.
"take a seat. i'll make you one." you said.
"i can do it myself."
"just let me take care of this, okay? you're tired from work." you said, turning on your back to make him a black coffee when you suddenly felt his weight behind you.
"thank you." he mumbled before going back to sit and it made you proud of yourself.
-
"welcom-" you were cut off when toji harshly kissed you, his hand flying at the back of your head as he pushed you, until your body collided with a wall. "toji-" you mumbled through his kisses as you pat his shoulder. "can't breathe!" you said as he finally pulled away, with him leaning his forehead on yours as both of you catch your breaths.
"bad day again?" you asked but he only clicked his tongue, continuing his task on you, the food you made being forgotten as he carried you and made his way on the bedroom, and also not forgetting to lock the door.
-
thank goodness it was saturday today.
your whole body was aching and toji was out of sight as you sat up from the bed.
"mama?" megumi's voice can be heard at the door as he knocked three times before opening, only to see you on the ground. "mama!" megumi exclaimed as he approached you. "papa help!" megumi yelled as he struggled to help you stand up.
"megumi look out for the food in the kitchen." toji said as megumi followed what he was instructed.
"it hurts." you said as toji easily carried you, placing you back on the bed.
"guess i went rough last night." he mocked.
"shut up!"
-
"i'm home." toji said as he entered the house. you smiled as you approached him.
"not a bad day anymore?" you joked as he laughed, hooking a hand around you as he placed a kiss on your lips. you were used to it now.
"yeah." he replied as both of you did the usual routine.
after the dinner, you were quiet. it was unusual for you to be silent.
"toji-"
"what's wrong?" he asked, cutting you off. the night you both shared was 2 weeks ago, you were supposed to have your period 2 days ago but none came.
"i'm late." you said, starting to get stressed. "i'm scared, what if i ended up being pregnant-"
"then that's good. megumi will have a playmate. is it not?"
"but-"
"it's okay." he said, taking your hand on his and you were surprised when he removed the wedding ring on your finger, placing a new one. "wear this from now on." he said, placing a new ring with a rare design on it.
"thank you.. i love it but, why?"
"i want to get married again." he said, looking straight in your eyes.
"but we're already married." you said as you frowned.
"but for real this time." he said with a smile. "you know, before, i wasn't-" he paused, he couldn't say it but you already understood what he was saying.
"i understand." you said as you laughed.
"will you marry me again?" he asked and you couldn't contain the big smile that was on your face.
"i would love too!" you said as you embraced him, with him spinning you around.
"i love you (name).. thank you for staying with me and megumi. thank you for not giving up on us.. on me." he said and you couldn't help but tear up.
finally. it's finally happening.
"i love you too." you responded with a shaky voice as he wiped your tears with his thumb before finally connecting his lips with yours.
it was worth all the wait.
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torushawty · 11 months
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reblogs & interactions always appreciated :)
all works are rightfully owned by kazushawty. song recs are for you to listen to while reading for extra immersion !!
scroll all the way down for his second masterlist *sigh*
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| key: [ ★ ] = fan fav | 18+ | f! reader | in chronological order |
| key: [ 🔞 ] = smut [ 💢 ] = angst [ 🌀 ] = fluff / “sfw”
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#FICS + ONESHOTS
[ ★ ] PROMISCUOUS GIRL + approx. wc = 3.6k / estimated reading time / 16 minutes / modern / str!p club! au / 🔞 / str!pper reader /
SUMMARY: toji visits a str!p club and a cute little new str!pper girl catches his eye quick.
SONG REC: promiscuous & the way i are
[ ★ ] AIRPLANE AIRHEAD + approx. wc = 5.9k / estimated reading time / 26.22 minutes / modern / airplane au! / passenger! toji / flight attendant reader🔞
SUMMARY: toji has a little too much fun tormenting the new cute flight attendant in first class.
SONG REC: in for it
WWW.PIXELATED.PRINCESS + approx. wc = 5.1k / estimated reading time / 22.67 minutes / modern / cam!au / maid + c4mgirl reader / 🔞 /
SUMMARY: toji finds out his pretty maid isn’t as innocent as he thinks once he walks in on her during her cam show.
SONG REC: cyber s!x
[ ★ ] TINDER LEG BINDER + approx. wc = 4.7k / estimated reading time / 20.89 minutes / modern / toxic + possessive ex! bf toji / 🔞 /
SUMMARY: toji catfishes his pretty little ex-girlfriend on tinder because he’s bored. the sheer thought of you being with another man makes him giggle.
SONG REC: let me love you
[ ★ ] SOPRANO SCREAMER + approx. wc = 7.8k / estimated reading time / 35.07 minutes / modern / rockstar! au / rockstar! toji / fangirl! reader / 🔞 /
SUMMARY: so many thirsty groupies but you want your favorite dílf rockstar to know that you‘re his #1 biggest fan.
SONG REC: party monster
1-800-BRAT-WANTED + approx. wc = 6.0k / estimated reading time / 22.67 minutes /modern / jjk au / assassin! toji / bounty reader / 🔞 /
SUMMARY: toji takes a bounty worth $100k but he didn't expect his wanted target to look so pretty.
SONG REC: starboy
EX-RINGER-F!NGERED + approx. wc = 6.1k / estimated reading time / 27.11 minutes / jjk au / modern / toxic + possessive ex-husband! toji / angst ending / 🔞 / 💢 /
SUMMARY: perhaps going to your ex-husband‘s costume party wasn‘t the brightest idea.
SONG REC: try me & hurt you
[ ★ ] BACKSTAGE BACK ARCHER + approx. wc = 5.3k / estimated reading time / over 20 mins / rockstar! au / rockstar! toji / delusional reader / mean! dom toji / 🔞 /
SUMMARY: toji has a little too much fun with his #1 biggest fan. The paparazzi can’t stand you and neither can his die-hard groupies.
SONG REC: kissland
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#THIRSTS/ASKS
virgin reader x toji [🔞]
toji edging you [🔞]
arranged marriage toji [🔞]
ceo toji x breeding k!nk [🔞]
twitter famous toji [🔞]
making a bet w toji / he loses [🔞]
in the shower w toji [🔞]
toji seeing you in a sundress [🔞]
one night stand w toji [🔞]
toji seeing you in a bikini for the first time [🔞]
toji eating it from the back [🔞] — ★
birthday s!x w toji [🔞] DEDICATED TO HOSHI !! <3
seven mins in heaven [🔞]
spit / daddy k1nk w toji [🔞] — ★
makeup s!x w toji eating your 🐱 [🔞]
asking toji to record you [🔞]
bodyguard trope [not smut related]
ex baby daddy toji [🔞]
difference between faster & harder w toji [🔞]
toji making out with you after eating your 🐱 [🔞] — ★
toji handling his girl as she’s ab to fight someone [🌀]
toji x public play [🔞]
motorcyclist toji [🔞]
spin the bottle feat. gojo [🔞]
toji & reader w oral fixation [🔞]
toji‘s reaction to seeing you in booty shorts [🔞]
racer toji [🔞]
spit + praise + daddy k1nk [🔞]
c0ckwarm1ng toji [🔞]
toji comforting you with period cramps [🌀]
toji with a shy gf [🌀]
impact play w toji [🔞]
toji f!ckin you like he can’t life w/o you [🔞]
toji in black suit / size k1nk [🔞] — ★
toji reaction to you singing explicit words [🌀]
toji turning on your toy while at a formal dinner [🔞]
c!ckwarming toji while he’s doing paperwork [🔞]
toji x insecure gf [🌀]
toji saying no to you for the first time [🌀]
toji x reader w attachment issues [🌀]
toji x bimbo reader [🌀]
toji reaction to you having n!pple piercings [🔞]
toji giving you hickeys/bite marks on your neck [🔞]
sucking toji’s n1pple pierced t!ts [🔞]
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#DRABBLES
toji spanking your 🐱 [🔞] — ★
dilf toji make you answer your ex’s call [🔞] — ★
giving toji head on your birthday [🔞]
how toji eats it [🔞]
toji x insecure chubby! reader [🔞]
toji “helping” his college gf study [🔞]
relaxing pool day with toji [🌀]
toji taming a spoiled brat gf [🔞] — ★
toji calming you down after you’re pissed [🌀]
using your safe word [🔞]
d!lf toji making you squ!rt for the first time [🔞] — ★
toji x v!grin reader [🔞] — ★
riding toji‘s thigh [🔞]
play fighting to something else w toji [🔞] — ★
trying on clothes / toji f!cking you in the clothes [🔞]
calling toji daddy by accident [🔞] — ★
jealous toji x college gf reader [🌀]
toji with crybaby gf [🔞] — ★
aftercare with toji [suggestive]
toji suggesting a new position [🔞] — ★
smart mouth reader x toji [🔞]
making out with toji [suggestive]
angry rough toji / reader [🔞]
toji’s favorite positions [🔞]
toji making you 💦 again [🔞]
boyfriend toji headcanons [🌀]
shy gf x toji who forces eye contact [🔞] — ★
toji using a vibe on you while intimate [🔞]
toji taking care of you while you’re sick [🌀]
toji eating you out with tongue piercing [🔞]
toji putting you in headlock while riding him [🔞] — ★
sucking toji’s fingers [🔞]
riding toji while sucking his fingers [🔞] — ★
toji with a size k!nk [🔞] — ★
toji teaching you how to give head [🔞] — ★
more toji putting you in a headlock [🔞]
shiu x toji sharing you [🔞]
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╰┈➤ finished? direct me to more toji content, karma !
3K notes · View notes
edenesth · 3 months
Text
The Way to His Heart [10]
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Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 4.5k
Trigger Warnings: graphic violence/torture, gore, implied mutilation
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 9 | Fic Masterlist | Part 11
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"You wanted to see me, sir?" Wooyoung called out, entering the general's study with Jongho following closely behind, having been summoned to the estate.
Seonghwa looked up from his desk, "Ah yes, I heard you turned down the bonus incentive we offered. Why is that? Is there something else that you wish to have?"
Having encountered few who would refuse extra money, your husband found it hard to comprehend the private investigator's decision. Most people around him were usually drawn by the allure of his wealth or other associated benefits, which left him curious about Wooyoung's motives for declining the bonus. Surely, there was something specific he desired.
The younger man beamed, "My lord, I wasn't working so willingly for you because I wanted something more from you. Honestly, nothing makes me happier than being recognised by you! I just... okay, maybe there is one thing I really want."
Raising his brow, the general was not surprised by the sudden admission, "Go on, name it then."
With a cheeky grin, the investigator replied, "It's that you allow me to help you with whatever problems you have now!"
Your husband rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "What do you mean? I have no problems now; the worst is over."
"Really? Is that why you're here sulking alone instead of being with Lady Park? You clearly want to be near her, and yet, here you are, staying away from her because you haven't a clue how to face her after the traumatising ordeal you put her through yesterday."
That finally piqued Seonghwa's attention, prompting him to sit up straighter, though he attempted to maintain a nonchalant demeanour, "H-how did you figure that out?"
Without waiting for Wooyoung's response, he shook his head, "No, wait, actually, I don't want to know that. Just tell me... what should I do? I realise I haven't considered well enough what she went through, but I... I've never had to care for someone like this before, and I'm not really sure how to..."
The investigator offered an understanding smile, "My lord, the key to any relationship is communication. You need to talk to Lady Park. Ask her how she's feeling, and tell her you're sorry for what she went through. Avoiding each other won't solve anything; it will only create more distance between you two. You're her pillar of support now, and she needs to feel that you're there for her. You both deserve happiness, but it starts with open and honest communication."
Absorbing the advice, the general nodded thoughtfully, "You're right, Wooyoung. I appreciate your straightforwardness. I'll go talk to her and make things right."
Without hesitating, he sprang from his chair and made his way out of the study. The assistant and his friend couldn't contain their laughter, covering their mouths with their hands, but quickly composed themselves when Seonghwa glanced back at them, "Oh, and please, accept the bonus. You deserve it, especially after this."
Before Wooyoung could object, he had already exited the room and was rushing down the path toward the House of Lotus, his heart pounding at the thought of seeing his wife again.
He remembered how quiet you had been during the entire journey back home the day before, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. While you weren't overtly distant or cold to him, you seemed lost in thought throughout dinner. You excused yourself early, retiring to your quarters. The atmosphere carried an unspoken tension, making him hesitant to say anything for fear of your potential reaction.
Reflecting on it, he realised he should have assured you that things would be better from that point forward. Rather than maintaining a facade of normalcy, he regretted not breaking the silence and being there for you in that moment of unease.
His steps hesitated, and his breath deepened as you finally appeared in his line of sight, seated alone in the pavilion outside your room. Your lady etiquette books lay open beside you, but the faraway look in your eyes remained glued to the horizon beyond the lotus pond. For a moment, he stood there, appreciating your beauty, suddenly feeling thankful you looked nothing like your father.
However, as soon as you turned your head slightly and noticed him standing by the entrance, he blinked rapidly, feeling flustered. Gathering his courage, he took a deep breath and approached you.
Just go talk to her, you fool.
Seeing him approach, you closed the books and made room for him to sit in the small pavilion. He offered a warm smile, "Hey, I hope I'm not bothering you or anything."
Shaking your head, you returned a small smile, "No, not at all. I tried to study, but I just... I couldn't."
As he settled down beside you, reaching for your hand, you didn't flinch or pull away. He released a relieved breath and moved closer, "It's alright, you don't have to force yourself. I know you're probably upset with me. I... I'm sorry, my dear."
Lifting your head to meet his eyes, you furrowed your brows, "What? Why would I be upset with you?"
He winced, wondering if you were intentionally testing him to see if he knew what he did wrong. But then again, he knew you would never do anything like that. Sighing, he admitted, "Look, I know I should've thought things through better yesterday. I was so focused on wanting to punish your family for what they did, I forgot about how horrible it must have been for you to go back there and sit through all of that."
"I acknowledge it was a mistake. My intention was to give you a chance to confront your family by taking you to your old room. I didn't think it would affect you so badly. I realise now that it was a misguided decision, and I regret taking you back to that place. I'm a goddamned idiot."
His admission tugged at your heart, and you responded by placing a comforting hand over his.
"Seonghwa, you're not an idiot. I'm not upset with you," You assured him, "I've been quiet since the visit because I'm still processing the fact that my own father killed my mother. All this time, I believed she died from sickness. Now, I can't help but wonder how different my life would have been if only she were still alive. He took her away from me just like that, and for what? All for his own selfish reasons..."
"I just... I feel so—" Tears welled up in your eyes, and your voice broke, "I-I'm sorry..." You pulled your hands away from him, attempting to wipe your eyes, but he gently grasped your shoulders and turned you to face him.
"No, you need to stop apologising. You have every right to be sad, and I'm here to tell you that you never have to endure any more of the pain you're going through alone. I'm here for you, okay? From now on, I want you to lean on me whenever things get too unbearable. Can you do that?"
Feeling the genuine warmth in Seonghwa's tone and seeing the unmistakable care in his eyes, you finally broke down. The weight of the revelations, the pain of your father's actions, and the years of emotional torment spilt over, and you couldn't hold back your tears any longer. He pulled you close, cradling you in his arms as you sobbed against his shoulder.
Whispering comforting words into your ear, he pressed gentle kisses onto the top of your head. His touch was a soothing balm, providing the comfort and support you desperately needed in that moment. As you let out your emotions, he held you tighter.
The sound of your heart-wrenching cries only caused an uncomfortable squeeze in his heart. The general had never experienced this kind of ache before. Throughout his life, he had always believed that no one had a tougher life than he did. But then you came along, with your fragile form, managing to shake his entire world and alter his perspectives on life. All of a sudden, the notion of having someone to protect and care for didn't seem so repulsive, especially when it was you.
You slowly pulled back, staring up at him through your wet lashes, and offered a grateful smile, "Seonghwa, I want to thank you for doing all this for me. I never imagined someone caring enough to go through all that trouble. I promise, in return, I'll try my hardest to be a worthy wife for you."
He wiped away your tears tenderly and gazed into your eyes, "You don't need to prove anything, my love. You're already perfect, just as you are."
Your heart raced, and your eyes widened as you stuttered, "W-wait, what... what did you just call me?"
He stilled, realising the words that had slipped from his mouth before he softened. Leaning close, he pressed his forehead against yours, "My love."
Seonghwa's presence became almost intoxicating. Feeling him so close, as if with a mind of its own, your eyes slowly fluttered closed. He took that as permission to lean in further, and after what felt like an eternity, his lips touched yours in a soft and tentative kiss. When you didn't push him away, he bravely angled his head before pressing his lips firmly against yours.
Finally, our first kiss.
Pulling away after a while to catch your breath, you bit your lip shyly, "I-I'm sorry if I wasn't—"
He shook his head, "Don't worry, it's my first time kissing someone too," He admitted, struggling to take his eyes off your swollen lips. A soft smile played on his lips as he caressed your cheek with his thumb, "Can I..." He asked with half-lidded eyes, and you nodded breathlessly.
Without wasting another moment, he captured your lips in another loving kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of each other's presence. His touch was gentle yet filled with a depth of emotion. As the kiss deepened, you felt a rush of emotions, a mix of vulnerability and passion.
Feeling the need for air, he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. Your eyes met, and you could see the affection and sincerity in his gaze, "You're perfect." He whispered, his voice filled with tenderness, realising that kissing you might just be his new favourite thing to do from now onwards. The moment lingered, the air charged with newfound emotions. It was a beginning, a sweet promise of the love that had blossomed between you.
"Your Majesty, please—"
The King slammed his fists against the handle of his throne, causing the minister to gasp and lower his head. He shook like a leaf, awaiting his impending doom as the ruler declared, "I don't want to hear another word from you, Jang. You're a bloody disappointment. Actually, you're worse than that, you monster."
Kneeling beside your father were your stepmother and stepsisters, equally trembling. Pathetic tears rolled down their cheeks as they attempted to put on a pity show, hoping to move His Majesty's heart. However, their efforts did little to appease his rage. He scoffed in disbelief at their audacity to cry, considering all the despicable things they had done to you and your mother.
This marked the first time the four women had set foot in the palace, and little did they anticipate it would be under such circumstances. The visit might also be their only time here, as the imminent judgement from the King would decide their fate.
Seonghwa stood in the corner, arms crossed over his chest, an amused expression on his face. He left home that morning after a lingering kiss on your lips, feeling rejuvenated and determined. Choosing not to burden you with the details of today's assembly, he shielded you from further thoughts about your family.
Don't worry, my love. I'll make sure they suffer a punishment worse than death.
"I can't stand to look at you imbeciles for another moment longer. Let's get this over with already. Royal Secretary Choi, would you be so kind as to enlighten us with all of Minister Jang's crimes and his punishments?" said the King.
Stepping forward from his corner next to the throne, San bowed, "As you wish, Your Majesty," Tugging open the scroll in his hands, he began reading out loud, "Minister Jang has committed a total of five crimes. First, he committed adultery voluntarily, and for that, he will be whipped with eighty lashes. Second, he committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, he will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."
Dread filled the minister as he gulped, anxiously listening to the secretary move on to the next section, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of his own daughter, an innocent citizen, he will be flogged thirty times. Next, for violating the code of ethics as a minister, which is to be a law-abiding citizen, he will be stripped of his title and flogged another twenty times."
As your father's hands trembled, he attempted to hold himself up by pressing his sweaty palms against the floor, breathing heavily as he awaited the final and most severe punishment. San continued, "And finally, for the murder of his first wife, an innocent citizen, he will be sentenced to permanent exile."
That's... it?
Feeling a sliver of hope, the old man let out a small sigh of relief. At least it wasn't death by beheading or arsenic poisoning as he had feared. Banishment seemed acceptable; he supposed he could still live a quiet life somewhere away from here. Bowing deeply, he cried, "Thank you, Your Majesty! Your grace is immeasurable!"
All the ministers and officials present quickly stole glances at Seonghwa, wondering if he would throw a fit and object to the punishment that was yet to be the heaviest one. However, they failed to discern his feelings, as there was only an unreadable smirk on his handsome face.
Lady Jang and her daughters trembled as they awaited their turn. With a nod from the King, the secretary continued, "Moving on, Lady Jang has committed a total of four crimes. First, she voluntarily committed adultery, and for that, she will be whipped eighty lashes. Second, she committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, she will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."
She nodded to herself, seemingly already accepting her fate, as she listened, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, she will be flogged thirty times. And finally, for being an accomplice to the murder of the first Lady Jang, she will be sentenced to penal servitude for life."
Her eyes shot up immediately, finding it hard to accept that she would be separated from her husband. She had believed she, too, would be exiled along with him. But she quickly lowered her gaze as soon as she saw the glare the King had directed at her, as if daring her to complain about it.
Oh god, my life is over...
Noticing the King's patience wearing thin, San quickly concluded with the final sentencing, "Lastly, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, the three young misses of the Jang family will be flogged thirty times each and sentenced to penal servitude for a total of thirty years."
All three of the sisters' jaws fell slack at their punishment. After living luxurious lives like spoiled brats for so long, they were now expected to be servants, performing hard labour for three decades. All their dreams of getting married and leading comfortable lives were shattered. The prospect of finding suitors after serving their sentences seemed bleak. Their lives were forever ruined, and things would never be the same.
"Now that that's settled, remove these individuals from my sight, and see to it that they receive their physical punishments by today. I don't want their presence contaminating my palace walls any longer than necessary. Moving on to the next agenda, let us discuss who will stand in as the interim Minister of Military Affairs until we elect a new one." The ruler grumbled, waving his hands dismissively.
Seonghwa grinned smugly, relishing the way your father's face fell as he absorbed His Majesty's words. The King fully intended to drive the point home, reminding him that, no matter how much he believed he contributed to the nation, he, too, was just as disposable. Consider it emotional torment for further punishment, if you will.
As the members of the Jang family were forcefully pulled to their feet and guided toward the palace torture chamber where all punishments for criminals were administered, the general bowed deeply, "Your Majesty, forgive this humble subject for not feeling too well. Would it be possible for me to excuse myself from the remainder of today's assembly?"
With a knowing glint in his eyes, the King nodded, "Of course, my boy. Nothing matters more than your well-being. I'll have Royal Secretary Choi send you the minutes of today's meeting later on."
All eyes were fixed on your husband as he confidently exited the hall, wearing an excessively pleased expression, looking a little too content to be feeling unwell as he had claimed. It became evident to everyone that he was plotting something, a scheme that even His Majesty was privy to and had tacitly approved.
"P-please, have mercy!"
Screams reverberated within the dim and eerie confines of the torture chamber, a place the general once frequented during his duties of interrogating spies, war criminals, and suspicious individuals to maintain peace within the nation.
The familiar sounds of your family's agonising cries filled his ears, and he couldn't suppress the chuckle that escaped his lips as he entered, "Ah yes, music to my ears."
Upon his arrival, all the royal guards present swiftly bowed deeply and greeted Seonghwa with respect, "Good day, General Park!" They dared not continue until he gave them a nod, "Go on, don't let me stop you. I'm only here to enjoy the show."
"Yes, sir!" They chanted in unison. To many young soldiers and palace guards, he was akin to a god, an embodiment of success they aspired to achieve one day. Therefore, his mere presence motivated them to perform their duties with increased ruthlessness and precision.
Taking a seat in the centre of the room, your husband bit his lip with a smug expression, locking eyes with your father whose gaze reflected anguish. The elderly man lay face down on a wooden table, enduring lash after lash on his already bloody and battered back. His painful ordeal was far from over.
Whimpering, your father pleaded, "S-Seonghwa, I'm s-still your father-in-law! Please, at least show a little mercy to your wife's father!" Beside him, his wife nodded pathetically, sharing the same painful fate. Meanwhile, the three daughters stood frozen in a corner, wrists cuffed, awaiting their turn to face their beatings.
A devilish laughter escaped the general as he shot a menacing glare at the former minister, "Oh, I'm sorry, was that supposed to make things any better? I would show you mercy if only you had shown my wife any. You shouldn't have said anything, you fool," Turning to the guard in charge of whipping your father, your husband ordered, "Not hard enough, soldier. I want to see his skin tear."
"Yes, sir!" Striking with increased force, the lashes landed on the old man's back, inflicting wounds that would take months to heal. The continuous shrieks of pain only served to widen the smile on Seonghwa's face, "And to think you were thanking His Majesty for his grace; you've underestimated the severity of being whipped, haven't you? Did you really think you were going to walk out of here with a small bruise? Dream on."
"Oh, I can't wait for all of you to experience the wonders of flogging! It will be delightful, a punishment perfectly suited for your kind." The general sang, eyeing the three girls slyly.
They cowered under his intense gaze, suddenly regretting every action they took on the day of your visit. Perhaps if they hadn't attempted any of those, they might have gotten away with a lighter sentence. But there was no point dwelling on such thoughts now.
"Father! Mother!" The girls cried, witnessing their parents only now completing the first half of their punishment. Before they could continue their wailing, guards approached them, saying, "Quiet down! Worry about yourselves instead; it's your turn."
The former minister and his wife looked practically lifeless by the time the guards were finished with their hundred lashes each. The skin on their backs was completely torn open, blood gushing out relentlessly. They were nearly unconscious by the time the guards moved them to separate poles, where they would be beaten with a heavy stick all over their bodies.
Letting out a small yawn, Seonghwa signalled for them to prepare for the flogging. This would be entertaining to witness; most criminals barely survived this punishment by the time it concluded. He would relish the idea of them being left in critical conditions.
"Enjoy yourselves! Thirty times each for what you've all done to my wife – just the perfect amount to leave you halfway to hell. Don't worry; you'll wish you were dead by the end of this. But rest assured, we will keep you alive," Your husband exclaimed with a clap of his hands, "Now, I want you to think of all the things you've done to my wife as you endure this. Can we all do that?"
In the ensuing silence, the guards approached each family member, forcefully striking them with the heavy sticks in their hands. With just one hit, all of them began howling in pain, "Answer the general! Can you all do as you are told?!"
"Y-yes! Yes!" All five of them sobbed miserably, and the general beamed, "Fantastic! Now, let the official flogging begin! The first one does not count, alright? Consider it warm up!"
The insanity in his eyes was genuinely terrifying, and your family was once again reminded of his reputation. Suddenly, it all made sense. This was how it felt to be a victim of his cruelty. They never should have sent you to him; that was their biggest mistake, and nothing they do or say could ever change that now.
"Yes, sir!"
And so it began, the screams that now filled the room were even more piercing than the ones during the first round of whipping.
Approaching each family member one by one, Seonghwa smirked, "Remember all the times you starved her?" Jinjoo nodded in between shrieks, "Good. And you, recall all the times you insulted her and made her feel small?" Jinhee repeated her sister's actions, nodding furiously, "Very good. And you, remember all the times you did something wrong and blamed it on her so that she would take your punishments for you?"
Jinah cried, tears and snot running down her sweaty face, "I'm sorry!" He shook his head, "Will saying a useless sorry change anything? Nope. Hit her harder, soldier," With a grin of approval, he moved on to your stepmother, "And you, recall all the times you kept her locked up in that prison cell you call her room?" Not wanting to suffer like her eldest, she nodded aggressively, "Good."
Finally stopping in front of your father, he crossed his arms over his chest, "And you, remember all the times you laid your hands on her? Your own daughter?" The former minister nodded quickly but was not spared, "Good, hit him even harder so he never forgets how it feels."
"Twenty-nine, thirty." The beatings stopped for the four women, and they collapsed one by one onto the floor like rag dolls. Blood trickled from their noses and the corners of their lips, their bodies covered in countless bruises and open wounds, soaking their clothes red. And that is only what can be seen on the outside; who knew what fatal internal injuries they could be suffering from.
With his hands propped on his hips, Seonghwa took in the sight with satisfaction, "Very well, some of these scars should last you for life. Now, you look as bad as the way you'd left my wife. Actually, worse. But that's good. I'm very happy with the outcome. Guards, take them away and make sure to send them to places where they're known to treat their servants poorly."
The girls sobbed upon hearing that, "General, please, have mercy! We've already suffered enough!" Your husband scoffed, "Mercy? Have you not been paying attention this entire time? I'm not known for that. Get them out of my sight."
As the guards dragged the wailing women out, they cried for their husband and father. The former minister yelled, still taking his twenty additional beatings as he watched his wife and daughters go, "W-will you not at least let me say my final goodbyes to them?"
"Minister, please don't make me laugh. Did you also allow my wife and her poor mother a final goodbye?" The old man had nothing to say at that, grunts of pain escaping his lips as he tried to endure the remainder of his punishment despite feeling like all of his insides had been beaten to mush at this point. He didn't have to look down to know that he was soaked in blood; he could feel the sting on his wounds whenever the slightest bit of wind blew past.
Just a bit more, and I'm free.
« Preview of Part 11 »
"Forty-nine, fifty." Your father sighed in relief when the punishment finally ceased. Collapsing to the ground upon being untied, he stared blankly ahead, feeling pain throughout his entire body. Slowly but surely, he slipped into unconsciousness due to the loss of blood.
Unfortunately, his respite was short-lived. A bucket of dirty water was abruptly dumped over him, causing him to scream in agony as the injuries on his body stung intensely, bringing tears to his eyes.
"Did you think it was over?" His blood ran cold as he noticed he was now tied to a chair, unable to move. With most of the guards gone, only him and Seonghwa remained.
"What do you think you're doing, general? I've completed all my physical punishments; you're supposed to banish me now!" The old man croaked, his eyes widening in fear as he noticed the dagger in your husband's hand.
The general burst into laughter, "Oh, minister, you can be quite slow at times. Did you genuinely believe that His Majesty's decision not to sentence you to death was an act of kindness? Who do you think requested your exile?"
"Y-you—"
Seonghwa smirked, "Indeed, it was me. Killing you would have been too merciful. No, I want you to endure a life so filled with pain that you wish for death every single day. Now, after seeing how skilled you were at begging all day, I believe you'd make a very talented beggar. Do you know what would make you a successful beggar?"
Tears streaming down his face, your father shook his head hopelessly as your husband traced the blade against his skin before whispering, "One without limbs."
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That was the most violence I have ever written HAHA I had to channel my inner Joker for Seonghwa's character. Anyway, I hope that was satisfying enough!
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.
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vivalabunbun · 1 year
Text
On the complexities of relationships and words
Summary: For two people that love to read, words seem like a complex. 
Word Count: 13k (yeah... this is slow burn, might want to get a drink and snack)
Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Slow Burn, Smut(r18+), NSFW, MDNI, Fluff, Angst kind heavy?, Modern AU, Omegaverse AU, A/B/O relationships, slow fic, marriage, arranged pairing, dubcon, themes about not liking yourself, TW: gender dysphoria (you don’t like your secondary gender), TW: Very vague and brief mentions to possible past domestic trauma, Jealous!alhaitham, slight yandere!alhaitham, mutual pining, miscommunication, breeding, biting, ruts, Alpha!alhaitham, Beta!reader. You agreed to the pairing due to tax benefits. A lot of references to literature. 
Authors note: This is my first attempt at slow burn and yeah... I got carried away. I want to explore how slow alhaitham would open up and how love can come from the mind instead of the heart. Enjoy.
Side Note: here is a little dabble 
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Love, an emotion that sets the heart on fire. An all-consuming emotion that feels as if one was falling off a cliff while also being embraced tight by the treads of fate. The emotion that’s only separated by a thin line from madness. Or at least, that is how it’s been described to you through books and movies. 
With love being the inspiration for so many poets, artists, and heroes throughout all of history, it comes as no surprise that you found yourself curious about it. It started out innocently, you would listen to the latest romantic ballads from the wandering travelers along the streets of Sumeru. In the nation of wisdom, books were plentiful yet you found your teenage self buying certain novels from Inazuma. Then came the films from Fontaine which you’d spend a week’s worth of pocket money on. 
What first began from your childish curiosity became a hidden infatuation. You wanted to feel those emotions described in those songs, books, and movies. So you began your journey to seek it out. Your first relationship filled you with a certain rush, an excitement to finally experience a scene from those novels you loved… but you were only left with disappointment. 
Kisses felt bland, holding hands felt awkward after too long, and eye contact uncomfortable. There were no lingering thoughts that kept you up at night, no pink haze of pinning, nor a spark that set your chest ablaze. The breakup didn’t come as a surprise, and even so, it didn’t leave you with those gut-wrenching heartbroken sobs into the pillow as you’ve seen in the movies. Just disappointment. 
Perhaps it's because you were basing your expectations on relationships you can never experience. Those songs, those books, those movies? They were all about the bond felt between Alphas and Omegas. 
The maddening ruts and needy heat that left your cheeks flushed when you read about them. The touching gestures of scenting, the descriptions of the additive aroma of their beloved, their fated mate. The marking that proclaimed to the world their undying love. You’ll never experience that… since you’ve presented as a Beta. 
The worker ants of society, the largest class sandwiched between Alphas and Omegas, the extras in their movies. The category of society that can neither produce nor reciprocate pheromones, the population that lived in mediocrity in the eyes of romantics. 
Of course, love was possible for Betas, after all in a population that makes up the majority, there will always be the few that find ‘true love’. But that’s an advanced scholarly topic up for debate, with the societal consensus being that it’s the lowest tier of love. All pairings with Betas belonged in this tier. 
Alpha-Alpha, Omega-Omega, and at the very top of the tier list of ‘true love’ was the Alpha-Omega pairing. After all, love scientifically is created by chemical bonds in the brain with oxytocin, the love hormone. Pheromones kicked the production of oxytocin into overdrive, creating an addiction that makes a person long for their lovers every hour of the day. The chemicals that create the fire of romance you once wished upon shooting stars for. 
Thankfully with time, as you matured into an adult you resigned yourself to your fate. You found solstice in your one advantage as a Beta over any Alpha or Omega: True independence. Free from the chains that are primal desires brought on by pheromones, your head was clear, decisions not dependent on the fever that was love. 
You had given up on searching for love, hey, if you set the bar on the ground then there was less risk of being let down. So that’s why you agreed to your parents’ suggestion of an arranged pairing. To be matched to a life partner by a matchmaker.
--
“Eh? Isn’t that practice kinda outdated?” Dehya questioned. 
“Don’t the city folk use the akasha system, using genetics for compatibility or something?” Your Alpha friend carefully tucked away her compact mirror. 
“Actually, I think that’s really romantic! The traditional way matches you by personality and lifestyle compatibility.” Nilou grasped your hands, wishing you luck. 
“I agree, old fashioned doesn’t mean it's ineffective. It’s still very much practiced in Aaru Village.” Candace sent a slight side-eye to your other Alpha friend across the table. 
--
Perhaps your Alpha and Omega friends were trying to cheer you on, but frankly, they didn’t need to. The next day when you met with the older woman, you went through the process with a sense of boredom. When answering the matchmaker's question, you stated you just wanted a life partner that was honest, loyal, and respected your individuality. 
Next, the matchmaker asked about your interests, you recalled all the literature you used to consume during your obsession with love, and embarrassed by your fruitless past endeavors you answered books.  
“What kind of life do you seek, my dear?” Her wrinkly hands intertwined as she leaned on the table. 
“A peaceful, quiet life.” 
And that was it. She wrote down your responses with a bejeweled quill pen, handwriting beautiful and neat as if she were penning down a poem for you. You were free to go home. Walking down the streets of Sumeru, the dusk birds singing to their lovers, you didn’t even wonder about the Beta she was going to pair you with. You had a full day of work tomorrow, what you really wanted was a full night's rest. 
--
So a month later, you couldn’t hide the bewilderment on your face as you stood in front of a tall Alpha, the partner the matchmaker had deemed a good fit. From his piercing teal orange eyes to his sliver hair to his towering physique, everything about him was the picture-perfect definition of an Alpha. 
‘Alhaitham’ was his name, and you must admit it fit him quite well. His face remained unchanged even after his mesmerizing eyes passed over your form quickly. You couldn’t read the lack of expression on his face, was it disinterest? Indifference? Boredom? 
A part of you wanted to take your parents to the side and whisper in their ears that the matchmaker was a quack. Who in their right mind matches an Alpha with a Beta? Before you could do so, the matchmaker lead your parents out of the room, giving the two of you some privacy to get acclimated. A heavy silence hung in the air as your bodies stood a respectable distance apart, deciding to break the silence you first stated the obvious. 
“I’m not an Omega.” 
“I’m aware.” His deep voice sent a small shiver down your spine. Even his voice was beautiful. 
“I don’t have any pheromone, meaning I can’t bond.” You glanced up at him. 
“I never listed it as a requirement.” 
His answers only seemed to confuse you further, perhaps he didn’t think this through all the way. Sure, the matchmaker revealed that both of you wanted peaceful lives, liked books, and believed firmly in one’s individuality. But there was a massive sumpter beast in the room as the saying goes. 
“Aren’t you worried about… that time of the year…”  
For the first time, his eyes met yours, you quickly shifted your eyes away. 
“Are you referring to ruts? Medicine has advanced quite a bit, there are now inhibitors that can regulate pheromones and ruts. Not that you would know, of course.” He huffed out. 
You couldn’t stop your eyebrow from twitching in annoyance. Ah, he’s also got that Alpha ego. You were still confused, from the look on your face he quickly deduced it as well. 
“I dislike disruptions to my life. Primal desires are just disruptions. To put it bluntly, you as a Beta don’t release pheromones nor go into bouts of unsuppressed lust. Significantly reducing the risk of interrupting my time. You value individuality and are very independent, you’re very unlikely to bother me with trivial matters. All these factors add up to a peaceful, quiet life. Simple isn’t it?” 
When he laid out all the reasons so clearly on the table, it’s hard to not note the truth, Alhaitham is a weird Alpha. Perhaps that’s why his grandmother enlisted the help of a matchmaker in her will. 
After that day, you took home a folder full of documentation on him. Under the golden light of your desk lamp, you sorted through the information in front of you. He had no criminal record, he owns his own house close to the city, and he held a stable job with a very attractive salary. 
You ponder the decision for about a week, weighing the pros and cons. Marriages in Sumeru are often encouraged with sizable tax deductions, more money in your own pocket. Employees with spouses have an easier time requesting paid time off, more money in your pocket and less work. He lacked any familial attachments, meaning no in-laws to deal with. One extra point for being very easy on the eyes too. 
You ultimately signed your name on the marriage documents at the city hall, right next to his emulate penmanship. Right there under the fluorescent lights of the government office, the two of you recited your vows. The only other people in the room were your parents and the clerk filing the paperwork.
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Within the next few months, you’ve carried the boxes filled with your belongings from your cramped apartment into his spacious house. Your old light novels and romantic collection of poems are now placed on a bookshelf adjacent to his. Bright and artistic covers contrasting against bland academic journals. Of course, there was no honeymoon, no break from your regular work schedules. There was no reason to. 
--
In the first year of your marriage, you viewed him with suspicious eyes. You valued loyalty in a life partner and even though he stated he dislike pheromones and primal urges, he was still an Alpha with such natural responses. Yet, you observed that he came home every day at 5:30 pm on the dot, not a single hair out of place nor a single crease on the collar of his button-downs. 
You found him to be a decent housemate, calm, quiet, and respectful of your space. Chores were divided equally between the two of you, making the shared living space organized and dust free. Of course, he was only human thus he also had some flaws. 
Sometimes your foot would knock against a stack of books he had left on the floor near the numerous bookshelves throughout the house. Or how you noticed your shampoo and conditioner bottles emptying at an alarming rate, does he not know how expensive haircare is? 
Alhaitham deemed you a good fit for a life partner. You weren’t disruptive nor dependent on him in any aspect. You spent your own money responsibly, a diligent person who followed a set work routine without needing any reminders. 
You would alternate responsibilities for dinner, but he found your food more flavorful. You threw together ingredients with no regard for measurements, only going off what felt right, compared to his style of calculating the precise amount a ‘pinch’ was. 
Of course, it’s expected that you’ve got some quirks that made him tsk internally. It was small insignificant things. Like how sometimes he would find strands of your hair left in the shower drain. Or how you often tuck his books back into the nearest shelf, not caring about if the genres matched or not. 
“I commend your artistry. However, a mural made from your hair on the shower wall is unnecessary.” 
“You’ve got shorter hair than me, how are you using double the product?”        
“It’s all due to your perception, I’m not using any more product than you.”
“Oh?~ Then I guess the hair on the wall is all just your perception too.”
When living with another person there will always be bumps that needed to be smoothed out. But overall, life was peaceful and quiet just how the two of you liked it. 
--
Alhaitham was Alhaitham, and you were you. Two independent individuals only connected by paper and law. Perhaps the only couple-like aspect of your relationship was sharing the same bed. Of course, this was done only out of necessity. 
The only other room in the house with a bed was the guest room, even so, there was still an imbalance. The mattress was much smaller and firm when compared to the grand bed in the master bedroom. 
He didn’t snore and neither did you, you didn’t toss and turn in your sleep and neither did he. With two separate blankets, he deemed that sharing a bed with you wouldn’t cause any disturbance to his sleep. You two had more than enough money to afford another bed, but just the thought of rearranging the furniture to accommodate it was too bothersome for the both of you. There was more than enough room on the bed for two bodies to sleep without ever touching. 
No loud passionate fights nor lingering glances and maddening touches. Just the calm lull of normalcy. But you were satisfied. 
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By your second year with him, you’ve gotten acquainted with the nuances in his manner of speech. In particular, his sarcastic quips that you’d return with vivacity. 
“Mmm, I appreciate the attempt. But I’d rather my books be sorted by subject rather than by instinct.” 
“There’s faster ways to collect my life insurance than by getting me to trip over a book, Haitham.” 
During this year, the two of you also began to use more familiar terms to address each other. Instead of your name, he’d simply call you wife, and you shortened his name. Husband and ‘Haitham’ had the same amount of letters anyways. 
When the date of your courthouse wedding came around, nothing happened. 
No flowers, no shiny gifts of jewels, not even a sweet dessert. After all, he found it silly to spend so much effort on a singular day instead of placing that enthusiasm into every regular day of life.
Birthdays shared the same sentiment, you’d be invited out by your group of friends to a celebration planned by Nilou, while Alhaitham would stay at home with his books. 
--
“Happy birthday.” You placed a cup of freshly brewed coffee down in front of him. 
“Thank you.” Besides your statement, there was nothing out of the ordinary. 
“Hopefully I’m one year closer to collecting your pension.” 
  Alhaitham has to admit he does enjoy your sardonic humor, but you’d never be able to tell just by looking at him. He took a sip of his coffee, by year two you finally learned how not to scald the coffee grounds when doing a pour-over.
Life continued on, and the two of you were still like parallel lines traveling in the same direction side by side and separately. 
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It’s now the third year of your marriage. You were currently busy in the kitchen, Alhaitham had just informed you earlier there’d be guests coming over tonight. Fortunately, it’s a Friday which meant you had a half day at work. Quickly purchasing ingredients from street vendors on your way back. 
He never had any guests over before, so you assumed that these guests must be important people from work. 
You even made sure not to use spices that were too fragrant, just in case any of the guests were extremely sensitive to smells, as Alhaitham had informed you they were all Alphas. Tachin was a rather simple but delicious dish to make. You also picked fresh ingredients that would make a very quick and satisfying salad. 
Your husband didn’t particularly like soup, but he doesn’t have the right to be picky when you’re the one rushing to cook enough food for five people, so minty bean soup will be on the table. He had a collection of wines in a separate room, you’ll leave the wine selection up to him. 
Just as you finished setting the plates and dishes on the table the chime of the doorbell went off. Wiping off your hands and taking off your apron, doing a quick once-over in the hallway mirror before answering the door. 
“O-oh… You’re a… Beta…” 
The blond Alpha in front of you had a look of bewilderment across his handsome features. Rudy eyes peering down at you in astonishment as you maintained a polite face. 
“Oof-” 
An elbow was jabbed into the blond’s side as a shorter dark-haired man signaled for him to shut up. 
“Thank you for having us over for dinner.” His friendly face gave you a smile. 
“Welcome.” You invited all the men in. 
  The bewildered blond at the door’s name was Kaveh, the dark-haired man was Tighnari, and the white-haired man with the intense gaze was Cyno. 
You familiarized yourself with their names, and from time to time you felt their eyes passing glances over at you as they made small talk. Alhaitham was currently picking out a few bottles of wine. 
“So, you’re actually his wife… Ah! Of course, it’s no fault of yours. I’m just shocked he’s actually married, I thought he was bluffing when he said he had a wife. There were no signs… Ugh! Great, I owe drinks now.” Kaveh sighed, face in his hands. 
“Alhaitham doesn’t want others knowing too much about him. But the proof is right in front of our eyes.” Cyno leaned his elbows on the table. 
Ah, it makes sense that people at his work wouldn’t know about you. There weren’t even rings to distinguish the relationship. Usually, relationships nowadays were sensed through the presence of pheromones on the bodies of lovers. However, you were a Beta with no pheromones to cling onto his person. There’s not the slightest chance he ever talked about you. The two of you were also never seen in public together, so in the eyes of many Alhaitham is still a bachelor. There was a slight churn in your stomach, was the soup upsetting it?
“Gossiping about me while sitting in my house and right in front of my wife?” 
Alhaitham’s deep voice mysteriously made the knot in your stomach go away, or maybe it was the way he referred to you, ‘my wife’. He placed the bottles of wine and glasses on the table. 
“It’s nothing major. We’re just surprised someone is willing enough to stand your arrogance.” Kaveh crossed his arms. 
“Unwed people should not have any comments on other’s relationships.” 
“Hey! Why you-”
“Huh…” You pondered out loud. 
The attention of the men in the room was all on you now. 
“Oh, pardon my interruption. I guess I’m just in awe that my husband has friends.” 
In an instant laughter ripped through the air. 
“Bwahahaha! Alhaitham, I like your wife already! Ahahaha!” Kaveh was laughing so hard tears were forming in his eyes. 
Tighnari had one hand gripping the table and the other covering his mouth as he tried desperately to suppress his snickers, ultimately unsuccessfully.  
“Well, I’m not sure if friends is the ‘correct’ term.” Cyno’s voice was steady, but you could see the small shakes of his shoulders. 
“I’m beginning to wonder if inviting guests to the house was the right decision.” 
--
Still, the dinner continued and the drinks started to pour. After your statement from earlier, the atmosphere at the table became more lighthearted aided by the help of alcohol. 
“So, what’s the occasion?” You asked as you took a sip out of your glass. 
“Huh? Alhaitham! How did you not tell your wife about your promotion?” Kaveh nearly spat out his wine. 
 “There’s no reason to dampen her mood with bad tidings.” 
“Bad?!-” You wondered if the blond’s voice could shatter the glass in your hands. 
“Keeping your cards close to your chest, even from your wife.” Cyno side-eyed your husband. 
“Not at all. Not that the unwed head lawyer would need to know.” 
“Tsk.” The tan Alpha crossed his arms. 
“Now, now just because he didn’t tell his wife doesn’t mean Alhaitham’s a bad husband.” Tighnari tried to dispel the tension while also landing a subtle jab. 
“Mmm, congratulations, Haitham.” You swirled your wine. 
“Thank you.” Your husband replied. 
The three Alphas looked at each other, eyes sending silent messages. They must find your marriage to the ashen-hair Alpha strange. Alpha-Beta pairings were already against convention, but it seems like the two of you matched each other's pace. Two weird people found each other. 
--
After dinner was finished and you bid goodbye to the guests at the front door. 
“Be grateful you stone-faced brat… Your wife’s got... too good to be stuck with your stale…” 
The two shorter men carrying the blabbering blond off your front steps. 
“He’s quite the lightweight.” You briefly mentioned while over the sink.
 “I’m just grateful there’s still wine left. Go rest, I’ll get the dishes.” His larger frame takes up the space at the sink, silently encouraging you to move away. 
So you left clean-up duty to him, a fair trade for making you cook a feast so out of the blue. As you stood under the warm water pouring over your body in the shower, your mind began to replay the conversations over dinner. They made you realize just how little you actually knew about your own husband despite living under the same roof for three going on four years now. 
Once he stepped foot outside of your shared space he was practically a stranger. What was his job like? Who were his friends? What were his favorite places? Hell, even in your house, he was still a stranger. What books is he reading now? When does he find time to work out? What does he do when you leave the house? This realization made you shiver, as you turned the knob to increase the temperature of the water.
 It wouldn’t hurt to try and get to know him a little better. 
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One Sunday morning, you walked into the living room greeted by the sight of him reading one of your old light novels. Seeing his large hand hold the bright book, decorated with a pair of lovers embracing, while his eyes studied the text like his academic papers was almost comical… If only you didn’t wish to sink through the floor in humiliation. He must’ve lost interest in his own books, or maybe he’d gone through his whole collection. 
Either way, to prevent such an occurrence from happening again, you began to pick up some books for your husband on your way home. 
‘Metaphysics’, ‘Epistemology’, ‘Quantum Mechanics’: those seemed like topics that’d interest him, you reasoned as you stood in line to purchase them. Your eyes caught sight of a certain book, ‘le rouge et le noir’, on a whim you decided to add it to the stack of heavy books. Not for your husband, but rather for yourself. 
That night you handed the books over to him as he was about to go to his favorite reading spot on the couch. 
“What’s this for?” He stared at the stack of thick books in your hands. 
“Just passed by a bookstore and figured you might need something new to read.” You gestured for him to take them. 
“You didn’t have to go out of your way to gift this to me. Thank you, I shall read them.” His low voice indifferent as always, finally taking the weight out of your hands. 
You proceeded to move over to the smaller sofa in the living room and plopped down. Pulling out the book you had purchased earlier, you glanced up at him eyes questioning why he was staring. Alhaitham cracked open one of the academic journals you gifted him and averted his teal gaze. 
This was a break from your normal routine, but you felt like it’d be a nice change to get back into reading. It also gives you the opportunity to learn more about Alhaitham by spending more time in his presence. But more importantly, it would allow you to keep an eye on your husband to ensure he doesn’t go snooping through your bookshelf again. Maybe you should just donate them, but no library in Sumeru would ever accept them.
Soon that break from routine became the norm. Every night after the kitchen table was cleared, dishes cleaned, and bodies freshly towel dried you and Alhaitham will sit adjacent to each other enjoying quiet reading time. The soft light from the tall floor lamps and soft flicks of turning pages adding to the ambiance of the room. 
From time to time, you can hear the sound of him writing some sentences down on a notepad. So he likes to take notes on the books he reads. You learned something new. 
Another new fact you gained from your observations of your husband was that he reads fast, really fast. He had already finished all three books before you were even halfway done with yours. You had to act fast lest his teal eyes begin to wander towards your bookshelf again. So, you found yourself back at the bookstore once more. Picking up any thick academic journals on topics ranging from ancient ruins to the newest peer-reviewed breakthroughs.
Maybe you should also pick up some notepads and sticky notes, you saw how thin the pad had gotten last night. It just so happened that the romance section was right by the shelves of stationeries. The book from Fontaine you had bought on a whim was in your opinion more psychological than romantic. However, the romantic elements present seems to have reignited your interest in the romance genre. 
Oh well, you were grown enough now to not be so easily swooned by poetic descriptions of love. You picked the first book whose description piqued your interest and added it to the basket. 
One of the first lessons taught to the children of Sumeru was to be cautious when putting out campfires. If not killed correctly, the unseen smoke can make fallen leaves catch fire. A small flame grows into a hellish blaze that consumes whole acres of forest. 
--
   “Thank you very much. Again, this isn’t necessary.” Alhaitham still took the books out of your hands. 
The small notepad on top of the stack caught his attention, his teal eyes looked into yours with a questioning glance. 
“Your notepad’s running out, and there was a sale.” 
“I see.” 
From time to time during your quiet reading session, you would glance up, a part of you hoping to see Alhaitham use the new stationery you’ve just bought him. A frown tugged at your lips when you saw he had set it to the side in favor of his old, thinning notepad. Maybe the color isn’t to his liking. 
You continue to buy stationeries for him. Any fancy notepads or post-its that caught your eye at a store, every time you give them to him, he would thank you. Then proceed to never use them. Perhaps, the ones you got were too fancy? He seemed to like simple and practical items. Next time you got plainer ones, just simple squares of plain paper, he still left them untouched. 
Maybe, you needed to find higher-quality ones. But if he didn’t like them then why does he keep accepting them? Should you try your luck with pens instead, he does go through quite a few. Ah, the sentiment from the very first time you met him still rang true to this day. Alhaitham is a weird Alpha. 
He was an enigma to you. 
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You were an enigma to him. 
Alhaitham wasn’t sure when it started, but his mind grew curious about you. Perhaps it’s because he read through his collection of books, or maybe because things at work have been dull lately. Thus, he deduced it was only logical that you started to pique this interest in a bored mind. You lived in the same house and slept in the same bed. With you constantly being in close proximity, of course, he will want to learn more about you after more than three years together. 
One of the best ways to start studying you would be to start with your bookshelf. Alhaitham vaguely remembers you saying that you were interested in books, yet in all these years in the same space he hasn’t ever seen you touch your own shelf. What a pity, he could’ve used the extra space for his own books. Running a finger along the row of books, stopping on a random one he made his decision. 
--
Your taste in literature is, how should he put it, very different from his own preferences. The descriptions of the actions taken by the Alpha main character and his Omega lover were idiotic, to say the least. The lengthy declarations of the love and affection they held for each other, and the sentences riddled with exaggerations and rhetoric. The romance between the characters was the priority of the novel, thus the plot suffered greatly from it. 
In his opinion, the book was a mess. Yet, he didn’t once feel as if he had wasted his time. Alhaitham discovered a new side to you, is this the type of novel that interests you even as a Beta? The soft taps of your feet suddenly paused as it rounded the corner into the living room. Alhaitham looked up to see a tense look on your face as you stared at the novel currently in his hands. 
No words were exchanged between the two of you as you continued to stare, looking at the book then back at him. It was only for a minute at most, yet it felt a lot longer before you turned on your heels without so much as a word. It was brief, but Alhaitham thinks he saw the tips of your ears flush. Oh, did he stumble upon a guilty pleasure of yours? 
His actions must have been the cause of this deviation from routine, Alhaitham concluded while staring at the stack of books presented to him. Even on birthdays and holidays, gifts weren’t regularly exchanged between the two of you, so this was certainly a surprise. You were looking at him with eyes urging him to take the heavy books from your hands. He couldn’t refuse the offer. 
What came next was even more of a surprise, you sat on the usually empty sofa and pulled out a book of your own. The cover was different from the ones lining your bookshelf, the colors were much simpler, he also notes that the book comes from Fontaine. You were quiet and focused on your own novel, it didn’t cause any disruptions to his sacred reading time so he didn’t say anything about it. 
Soon your curled form on the sofa became a regular sight to see. Every now and then you’d readjust your position, trying to find a comfortable way to hold your book while also relaxing. Alhaitham subconsciously scribbles down brief notes on the book he holds in his other hand. Yet this time when he looked down, he had recorded this small detail about you on the paper. He felt your eyes glancing over as he swiftly crossed out what he had just written. 
A few days later you gifted him more books along with a new notepad. Now there's an unequal exchange happening. You have now gifted him many items, and he has yet to give you anything in return besides a simple ‘thanks’. What should he give you? Alhaitham pondered the question for a bit. 
He realizes that he doesn’t have a firm grasp on your likes and dislikes. Should he try books? No, he’s not familiar enough with your taste in literature to confidently gift a book you’d enjoy. If there was something that you liked, you’d just buy it right then and there with no hesitation with your own money. He thought about it a bit longer. 
When you came home from a particularly tiring day of work you’d often have a small take-out bag in your hands. The frown on your face would melt away the moment you pulled the padisarah pudding from the bag. Alhaitham opened his eyes, he has found the gift to give you. But from which cafe did you get that dessert? 
--
“Oh?” You looked at the padisarah pudding currently on the kitchen table. 
“It’s for you.” Alhaitham didn’t look up from his book. 
“Thank you. Actually, I have something for you as well.” You began to dig through your bag. 
Alhaitham glanced up to see you present him a new notepad and a stack of stick notes, the green paper embossed with gold detailing. He hasn’t even touched the first notepad you had gifted with a pen, and here you were giving him another. Now the current gift balance is even more off. 
You took your first spoonful of the pudding, his teal eyes secretly peeking at your expression as you processed the flavor. You furrowed your brow slightly holding the spoon in your mouth, then shrugged your shoulder as you took another bite. Your face didn’t light up like when you ate the ones you bought. 
Tsk, this means Alhaitham bought it from the wrong store. He knows he could simply just ask you which place made your favorite pudding. However, he finds the opportunity for experimentation in front of him more interesting. He wonders what faces you’ll give for each variation of the dessert. 
He gained more knowledge about you, you have a sweet tooth. He already guessed from your fondness for a certain dessert, but those were a treat for once in a while. You liked fruits, often snacking on them when you were bored on your phone, or as a late-night snack when reading. 
“Mmmh.” You looked down at the zaytun peach in your hand. 
“Is something the matter?” He asked, placing his cup of coffee down. 
“Which vendor did you get this peach from?” You looked over at him. 
“Why? Is there something wrong with the quality?”
“No, I like it. It’s got the right amount of firmness and sweetness.” You took another bite. 
Alhaitham made sure to only get zaytun peaches from that specific vendor. 
--
Currently, the head secretary was facing a small dilemma. On his desk he has amassed quite a collection of stationeries. All in part thanks to you, he took some of the notepads and sticky notes to his office, your gifting habits slowed when it looked like he was using them. The ashen-haired man could not pinpoint where this sudden obsession of giving him stationeries came from. 
Although, he has to admit it is quite amusing to watch the expression on your face as you watched his every time you handed over a new office item. It reminds him of a cat presenting its owner with shiny objects it had found, waiting for its human to react. But the current gift exchange ratio is still off. 
  His teal eyes scanned the report that had been placed on his desk earlier in the morning, there were a lot of important details between the lines on the pages. He should list down the details on a note before passing it on to the CEO. A hand reached towards the pile of post-its on his desk, courtesy of you, before it stopped. 
‘It would be too much of a waste to use good quality paper for such a tedious task.’ He reasons as he used one of the subpar post-its provided by the office. 
Dropping the report off at the CEO’s desk before he headed out for his lunch break. Walking to his favorite cafe, a familiar flash of color caught his eyes, a florist was selling potted pardisarahs. You did always seem to admire the colorful flowers that decorated the top of the dessert. 
He stood there on the street contemplating the plant. Padisarahs are fickle flowers, needing a specific blend of soil and precisely measured amounts of water. Too much sun and the fragile petals will burn, too little and the vibrancy of its leaves fade. He concluded that he didn’t want to bestow such a hassle on you. 
Returning from his lunch break to his office, Alhaitham was greeted by a great violation of his personal space. Covering his desk were stacks of new proposals and applications, those weren’t out of the ordinary. But the colorful squares plastered all over each new proposal were:
Please approve these proposals secretary Alhaitham! They are very important! ASAP
Here are the calculations of the research funds for next year, take a look at them - T
Alhaitham you better approve my application this time, the project is already delayed and I filed this paperwork twice! If you have any respect for your senior then approve this as soon as possible! - K
Head secretary, these are the new amendments to company policies. The legal team is awaiting your approval before we proceed with the implementation. - C
 They used the stationeries that you had gifted him to write nonsense. They had the gall to ask him for favors after they touched his desk without permission and wasted such pretty paper. 
Every proposals on his desk got thrown in the trash without so much as a glance. Nothing got approved, next time they should carefully consult his listed work hours outside the office. 
He didn’t think he’d have to make a sign that said ‘do not touch the items on my desk’ to a workplace of grown adults, but he was very much contemplating it now.  
Later that night, his annoyance from earlier in the day melted away once he cracked open the new book gifted to him. Your form comfortably wrapped in a light quilt as you cradled yours. The minutes turned into hours, the silence comfortable like the heat from a fireplace. A soft snap echoed through the room, your hand moving towards your face from the corner of his eye.
“Is something the matter?”
“Mm? Oh, no. The ending was just sad.” You wiped a tear from your other eye.
He learned something new about himself today, he didn’t like seeing you cry. 
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You really should’ve known better. Like Icarus, you’ve flown too close to the sun. The glue binding the wings of maturity and sanity you’ve crafted started to melt and fall apart, causing you to plunge down. Falling back into the obsession of ‘love’. What started as just one book, turned into two, turned into four. Now your once sparsely populated shelves were crowded with new romance titles of all sorts. 
--
 “You’re rather late today.” Alhaitham’s voice made you freeze in place. 
Why did the living room have to be so close to the front door, maybe you should’ve snuck back in through the back door. Sneaking back into your own house, did you revert back to a teenager while in your fourth year of marriage? 
“Sorry ‘bout that, I got caught up with friends.” 
That was a blatant lie, your poor friends were dragged into your mess all because you couldn’t be honest. You weren’t in their company, no, you were in the theaters watching a film alone. But how could you ever admit to him that as the Alpha and Omega lovers danced on the screen, you pictured your faces over theirs? 
Alhaitham acknowledged your explanation with a small hum, never looking up from his book. Good, because you were certain if he did, he would’ve seen right through your lie. 
Was your handsome husband the spark that rekindled your obsession? Or was it the stories you’ve been consuming that made your heart thump harder in his presence? 
You weren’t sure which was which, but you couldn’t deny the truth you’ve buried. You were in love with Alhaitham. It was an undeniable fact. From the beginning, you’ve always liked him. His quiet demeanor, his baritone voice, and his teal-orange eyes. But now you were in love with them, every aspect of him. You hated how helpless it made you feel. 
But you secretly liked how good it felt. After years of dormancy, you finally felt it, the rush described to you in those stories. That can’t sleep love, that delicious burn of pining, the itch in your chest as you laid in bed next to him. Two quilts defining the unseen boundaries of personal space, you longed to creep over it but you lacked the courage. 
What does he smell like? The same shower and laundry products were shared between the two of you. But that is not what you meant. What did his pheromones smell like? Was it a cool fresh scent, cool like the minty streaks hidden through his ashen hair? Or was it deep and woodsy? Maybe he smells like the pages of an old library book. 
You used to pity your Omega classmates, for you knew the stigma and inconveniences they will face in their lives. However, right now you envied them to the point of nausea. They knew what Alhaitham’s scent was, but you don’t. Why did you have to be a Beta? 
The demon known as insecurity you thought you’ve left behind was actually lurking in your shadow the whole time. 
Maybe you should check yourself into the Bimarstan, the fever of love feels as if it’s melting your brain. His gaze felt piercing now, his accidental skinships seared your skin. You had no one to blame but yourself, Alhaitham is not at fault, you were the one who fell into the fire as he sat in his place on the couch unaware. Even after four years you still couldn’t be honest with your own husband.
Feelings were never discussed because he believed you had a mutual understanding that this was for convenience. 
You can’t tell him you wanted more. How can you tell him you wanted more? There’s already a wall four years in the making, too great to overcome.   
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‘I need to rein myself in’ Alhaitham thought as his eyes followed your figure through the crowd below. It was a slow Friday at work so he decided to walk away from his desk, arriving at an overpass that looked over the streets of Sumeru. Something compelled him to look below, and under the golden sun there you were, and by your side was another Alpha. 
Dehya is her name, a good friend of yours that you introduced once before leaving for a birthday celebration. A good friend who had the privilege to ruffle your hair and loop an arm around your shoulders as she ushers you into one of the many stalls filled with glittering trinkets. 
His hand tightened its grip on the railing, why did she have privileges he was denied? Alhaitham felt he was stalking his own wife. Idiotic really. 
Skinship was not commonplace between you, an unseen glass wall defining the boundaries of your personal space. Whenever his skin met yours, you’d flinch and pull away as if you were burned. He always just apologize and the two of you would move on without another word. Hell, even if his eyes lingered on you for too long you’d tense up. 
It’s been happening more often now, is it because his eyes started wandering more towards your figure or how his hand itched to hold yours?  
Were you scarred by a past relationship? Were your flinches the remnants of a darker period in your life before him? His jaw clenched. By pulling a few strings he had pulled up more files of your past, to satisfy his mind’s hungry, but there was nothing. It only made his curiosity hunger more, or was it something else? Alhaitham wanted answers to why you hated his touches and stares, yet wanted to be in his presence and give him gifts. 
There was only one conclusion he could come up with: you liked your personal space. And he will respect it, but why did your friends not have to?
There was now a knot in his stomach as if a beast was clawing at it, maybe he should call off work and head to the Bimarstan. He disappeared from the overpass. 
“Haitham.” He heard your soft pounds on the door. 
“Leave some hot water for me.” He could envision the pout on your lips, and that’s what brought him over the edge. 
Watching with shameless eyes as the evidence of his guilt washed down the shower drain, running water masking his pants. 
If he can’t touch you, that doesn’t mean he can’t think about you; words spoken like a true creep he silently chastised. Alhaitham doesn’t care to admit how long he’s been doing this, perhaps his primal urges weren’t as controlled as he believed. 
It’s strange really, you’re a Beta yet you make him have these urges.
You don’t produce any pheromones to cling onto his body. But by using the same shower products as you, it serves the same purpose of scenting no? A foolish voice Alhaitham pushed from the back of his mind, taking another pump of your body wash. Maybe he should check the dosage of his inhibitors. 
The only opportunity he got to observe you closely was when you were asleep. ‘You’re quite the heavy sleeper’, he notes as his eyes traced over the subtle curves of your cheeks, the contours of your nose, and the softness of your lips. 
It’s accepted wisdom that Omegas were the most beautiful people. The top A-list singers and actors being Omegas only solidified the belief. However, Alhaitham’s confident your existence could challenge that very notion. 
If it weren’t for your distinct lack of a scent, any Alpha could’ve mistaken you for an Omega. Even his guests were taken aback by how your appearance didn’t match your status as a Beta. 
There was a pang in his chest. If he felt those urges when looking at you, then it’s guaranteed that others, specifically other Alphas, have felt it as well. But why? He trusted you to stay true to your convictions of loyalty and integrity… He wasn’t so sure about others though. Even with the inhibitors coursing through his system, he couldn’t seem to push down that annoying hand clawing at his back. 
You stirred, huddling into your blanket more, snapping his attention back. ‘Oh, you must be cold again’. The houses in Sumeru were designed to keep hot air out, so when a northern cold front blew in, you definitely felt it. 
Quietly getting up, Alhaitham pulled the spare quilt out of the closet, gently layering it over your curled form. The knit between your brows disappeared as a pleased expression overtook your face. Were you having a pleasant dream? Was he ever included? Subconsciously his hand began to reach for your face, only to freeze. 
‘Personal space’ he reminds himself as he strolls out of the bedroom. 
It makes no sense to him, you’re a Beta. In fact, the reason why he married you in the first place was because he believed your lack of pheromones and lack of heats won’t disrupt his peaceful life. The matchmaker had called him her biggest challenge, persevering only because of a promise made to his late grandma. 
So, how were you still corrupting his thoughts like this? 
He should read to calm his mind before he attempts to join you back in bed. Thoughts running laps in his head, analyzing then overanalyzing every last explanation he could come up with. 
Alhaitham’s greedy hands made their way over to your bookshelf, perhaps he could sedate a bit of his curiosity as well. Pulling the Fontainian novel that marked the start of a tradition. 
Under the golden glow of a lamp he flipped through the pages, it seems that your taste in literature has matured. Teal eyes skimming past a paragraph before going back to do a double take. 
‘Love born in the brain is more spirited, doubtless, than true love, but it has only flashes of enthusiasm; it knows itself too well, it criticizes itself incessantly; so far from banishing thought, it is itself reared only upon a structure of thought.’
He reached an epiphany. 
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It looks like you’ve been careless recently. Too distracted by the task of masking your infatuation of your husband from your husband, and maintaining your independent mask to realize that Alhaitham had once again finished all his books. 
The novel right in front of you, moved from its place on your shelf, was proof of that. 
‘It’s a good book’
Your husband’s neat handwriting was present on the small mint post-it plastered on the front cover. It was a simple gesture yet it made your heart flutter as if you had won the achievement of a lifetime. You finally got Alhaitham to use one of the many stationeries gifted to him. 
Carefully peeling the paper off the cover, then folding it to tuck it away in your pocket. 
“At least it’s not another light novel this time.” You affirmed, sticking the book back into its spot. 
--
“The mahamatra have announced a total recall of the inhibitors distributed during the past three months, with reports-”
You were lost in your own little world, contemplating just which books haven’t you bought for your husband yet. Tuning out the sounds of the bookstore playlist and TV as your eyes scanned the titles of the thick books in front of you. 
Would he like Sci-Fi? Sure it’s not academic but maybe it’ll have nuggets of information in there that’d catch his interest. 
--
The weight of the books made your bag strap dig into your shoulder, seeing the house in the distance, you picked up your pace for the home stretch. Tomorrow marks the start of a four-day public holiday, and after the crunch time your boss put you through to tie up loose ends. You needed it. 
Turning the keys in the knob you entered your peaceful little safe haven. 
Only to immediately feel the heaviness in the air. 
Your husband should be home by now, yet the spot on the couch remained empty. His shoes were placed at the door, albeit messily. Kicking off yours as you placed the bag on the coffee table, you navigated your way through the halls. 
The atmosphere was quiet, but not the comforting silence you’ve experienced for the last five years. 
“Haitham?” You called out, about to turn the corner into the master bedroom. 
His black button-down and slacks were thrown all over the floor, a large lump was currently huddled under your blankets on your side of the bed. ‘Oh, he must be napping’. 
Two years in, Alhaitham slept shirtless again like he did before you came. Never before were you grateful that your job made you get up at ungodly 8 am, but having an extra 30 minutes to look at his godly body as he slept made mornings bearable. 
Still, the air didn’t feel right and even if he was messy sometimes, your husband never just threw his clothes on the ground when the laundry basket was right in the corner. His breathing also seemed labored. 
“Haitham, are you sick?” Reaching a hand into the cocoon of blankets, feeling for his temperature. 
A sharp inhale was heard as his breathing stilled, his skin was burning. You moved onto a different patch of skin to confirm it. He must have a fever. 
“You’re burning! I’ll get medicine and water, don’t move.” Your hand quickly retracted. 
Just as your back was turned towards him, like a monster from beneath the blankets a pair of arms entrapped you.
“H-haitham?” His touch was searing you. 
“W-woah?!” 
In an instant, you were pinned under Alhaitham’s towering form, the soft sheets cushioning your body. The place where he once curled was twisted and balmy. Your eyes shoot up at him as he hovered above, your body stiffened. A scarlet haze offset the brilliant teal hue you’ve grown so infatuated with, a sense of impending danger ran down your neck. 
He doesn’t have a fever, he’s in a rut. 
Your thoughts were running wild, bouncing around in your skull as his labored breathing above continued. In all five years, you’ve never seen Alhaitham go into a rut, he was always diligent with his inhibitors. You’ve never been around an Alpha in rut, after all, you were never the one to trigger it. 
It’s embarrassing really, you had no idea what to do, all your experience with ruts came from those steamy light novels. 
“H-haitham, let me up, I’ll get your inhibitors...” You tried to tug your wrists from his grasp. 
Big mistake. His grip tightened as he buried his face into the side of your neck, a low rumble was felt from his chest. Alhaitham had his nose right up against your neck, taking deep inhales as if he was trying to detect something. 
You shivered as your body temperature shot up, you’ve never been this close to him, the brushes of his ashen locks against your neck made your legs rub together. 
“Hey…” You moved your neck away, the sensation was almost overwhelming. 
“Stay still.” A baritone voice vibrated against you. 
On command your body stilled, muscles refusing to move as Alhaitham continued his search. His breath was against your ear, tickling it as he took deep inhales of your hair. A low groan was heard as if he was frustrated with something.  
“Not enough.” 
“Huh?-” 
The sound your blouse getting torn off your body resonated through the air. Even will a layer of clothing gone, your body felt hotter. Just as you began to process the loss of your favorite blouse, another rip rang in your ears. Your skirt was now gone as well. You were so vulnerable under his touches. 
Dragging his nose down from your neck, over your covered breasts, then along your belly. His hands now gripped your thighs as he shifts down to part them effortlessly, eyes focused on your covered cunt. 
Your mind was groggy, reactions dulled, why was the room so hot? Suddenly you felt his nose against your cunt, taking long whiffs of the slick that was beginning to wet the fabric of your panties. That was enough to spark action from you. 
“H-hey!” Your hands pushed against his messy locks as your thighs tried to preserve your dignity.  
“Ah!” You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your mouth. 
In protest of your attempt to shut him out of heaven, Alhaitham bit into the soft flesh of your thigh. Hazy eyes looking straight into yours, warning you to not do it again. His intense gaze made something deep in your cunt pulse. 
Sharp teeth released soft skin as his attention was back on the honeypot in front of him. Your panties offered as much resistance as wet paper against his swift tug, the fabric now on the floor in pieces. 
Your cunt twitched with each hot breath that hit against its wet lips. With the thin barrier gone, Alhaitham can now freely bury his nose against your honeypot, tingles ran up his spine as the sweet musk of your slick sent his olfactory system into chaos. His throat felt parched as if he had just trekked the desert, he needed a taste. 
“Ah! Ahhh,” your back arched as his hot tongue lapped against your cunt. 
Alhaitham was slurping up your slick like a depraved beast, wet muscles sliding up the whole length of your slit, occasionally dipping into the contracting hole. Your whole body shook when the smoothness of his tongue ran across your clit, toes curling in the air.
 The shower head couldn’t bring out this level of pleasure. The fantasies you envisioned during your long showers couldn’t compare to the scene happening right now. His ministration continued, each stroke of his tongue sending blinding waves of pleasure. 
His hips were angrily rutting against the sheets, erection rubbing against the fabric impatiently. But he had to taste you more, his mind hazy as it craved nothing more than your taste. It was his first taste, but he was already addicted. Your legs tensed up in his grip as a loud whine left your lips, your body shaking as a sudden rush of slick was welcomed onto his awaiting tongue. 
Your sensitive body tried to flinch away as he continued to lap against your swollen lips and clit but his iron grip on your legs didn’t let you budge an inch. Eyes rolled back as the sweet torture continued. 
Your body convulsed, did you just cum again? Two orgasms sapped you of all strength, everything fell limp as your moans continued to fill the room. Your mind too foggy to even process the feeling of embarrassment. It felt so good, yet it was torturing, your cunt was sobbing for something else. 
As if taking mercy on your desperation, or maybe his desperation had reached its limit, Alhaitham pulled away. Teary eyes followed his motion, watching as he aligned his length with your greed.
You’ve seen him walk out of the shower in just a towel, how did he hide this behind a puny towel? 
Your cunt’s eagerness blocked any hesitation from reaching your brain as his length dragged itself against your soaked lips. The pillow behind your head was not enough, you needed something more solid to hold onto, to ground the last shred of your sanity. 
Shaky hands released the plush pillows, outstretched towards Alhaitham’s immense frame. A growl ripped through his chest as he dove into your arms at the same time as his length thrusted fully inside you.  
“OH!” Your fingers left deep stretches along his shoulder blades. 
His pants and soft growls vibrated against your neck as your eyes rolled back again, the fullness you’d been craving has been fulfilled. The stretch burned in all the right ways as your walls clung onto his member, thick and hard. Soft legs locked around a solid torso, your body pressed against his as his frame pinned yours to the bed. Just as you were adjusting to feeling of his length inside, his hips began moving. 
They were merciless, slapping against your hips and ass as the force made your whole body bounce. His length punishes your walls as it pulled out to just the tip only to be slammed back in at full strength. You clung to his muscular body for dear life, breasts bouncing out of their home in your bra. 
Nonsense was spilling out of your mouth as your brain malfunctioned from the blinding flashes of pleasure. The slick slaps of your cunt eagerly welcoming his every move and the headboard of the bed knocking against the wall complimented each other. 
Alhaitham’s pants were growing heavier, growls deeper as his tongue began to trace up and down your neck. The sensation along with his thick tip bullying your poor sweet spot pushed you over the edge for the third time. Walls clamping down to milk him as your legs squeezed him, the pleasure was toeing the edge of pain, much like how your brain was on the verge of madness. 
Nothing interrupted the pistoning of his hips as he fucked you through your orgasm, heavy balls slapping against your swollen lips. 
As the high was beginning to wear off, his pace became impossibly fast, the solid wood headboard now banging against the poor wall. Your bodies rocking together on the bed, he buried his face deeper into your neck. His teeth danced along your shoulder as your moans sang in his ears. He wanted to hear more of it. 
Alhaitham’s hips slammed against yours one final time before they stilled, teeth digging into your shoulder to suppress a moan, burying his length deep inside your cunt as his thick seed spilled. 
Your greed drank all of it up gratefully as your shoulder stung. 
Your chest was raising and falling fast, lungs trying to hog all the air that it could hold. Heart pounding hard in your ears. Tears and drool wet your face as your head fell weakly to the side on the soft pillow. You were completely spent as your arms didn’t even have the strength to hold onto him. Limbs limp and nerves fried. 
Above you Alhaitham continued to pant into your shoulder, length still buried inside. 
After a couple more harsh pants and deep breaths, you felt him stir, pushing against the bed to unpin you from his frame. 
“Ah-hh ahh~” You felt your walls clench once more around his length as he pulled out, a thick string of mixed slick connected his tip to your hole. 
Your body longed for rest as you turned onto your stomach, face pressed against the pillow, still panting heavily as your eyes closed. 
Two large hands grasped firmly onto your hips, startling your consciousness back as you looked over your shoulder. 
Alhaitham still had that scarlet haze in his eyes as he lifted your hips up, watching as more mixed fluids began to tickle out of your abused hole. Your eyes shifted down and you gulped, he was still erect. 
You were quite foolish to believe that one round was enough to satisfy an Alpha in rut. However, if it weren’t for his firm grasp on your hips, your body would’ve collapsed back into the sheets. 
A loud whine left your throat, vocalizing your exhaustion to him. It’s been a long time since you got any action, the two of you didn’t even consummate on the wedding night, it was spent packing your stuff. 
You tried to shift your hips out of his grip but he only held on tighter, earning another whine. 
Soft kisses were pressed against your back as if he was trying to soothe you. It was pathetic how weak you were to them, instantly melting against the pillow. Maybe you can last one more round you thought as his length rubbed against your slit again. 
Thanks to the extra prep and lubrication from the last round your walls were much more accustomed to the stretch as Alhaitham entered once more. His beginning thrusts were much more slowed and controlled than before as you moaned softly into the pillow. 
This couldn’t last sadly, as his lust overtook him again and his hips once again slammed into you, forcing a choked moan from you. Using his hands, he held your body up as he pulled all the way out until the tip then cruelly forced it all back into you. 
You wanted to beg him to rest, but you also wanted to beg for more. Your sloppy cunt accepted all his punishing movements with gratitude as the wet walls thanked his length with kiss-like contractions. 
Your eyes were rolled to the back of your head, mind absolutely blank, the pleasure must’ve melted your brain. All you could do was grip the tear-soaked pillow and let out moan after moan, the poor wall still getting beaten by the movement of the headboard. Tension building up once more in you. 
 Somewhere along the lines, you felt his teeth graze against your nape as his thrust picked up the pace once more, a sign that he was close to finishing. He was panting against the back of your neck as if he was searching for something. With a particularly harsh snap of his hips, he bites deeply into your nape as he releases a fresh batch of seed. 
“Why?”
You felt the frustrated growls against your skin as he bites again at a different angle. The pleasureful pain seems to have jump started your brain for just a second. 
‘Oh, he’s trying to bond.’ You felt Alhaitham’s soft locks brush against your shoulders as he continued his fruitless search. 
You were once reminded that you were just a Beta, unable to form a bond. He could bite your neck as many times as he wanted. His teeth can pierce the flesh until the skin was raw, but it would be all for naught. He’ll never get that satisfaction. You don’t have the glands to be bitten, to be marked, to be bonded with. 
You weren’t an Omega. There was now a heavy knot in your chest. 
You weren’t even sure what day it was, all you can recall is the hazy cycle of intense lust followed by a lull before the next round. During the lull, you did your damnedest to keep yourself and him hydrated, often having to lure him into the kitchen for some much-needed water and quick snacks. 
The air of the house was thick with the musk of sweat and desire, very nerve of yours fried from pleasure. 
Once again your body was pinned under his, legs thrown over his shoulders as his hips desperately snapped against yours. 
Every article of clothing has long since been removed, allowing your breasts to bounce along with every thrust. By now you were certain the shape of him was pounded into your cunt. The soaked sheets below clutched in your hands as if to ground you from floating up to cloud nine. 
The harsh pants and low growls above you increased in frequency in time with his thrusts. He must be close again. 
Fortunately, you’ve noticed that the breaks between each round have been getting longer and longer. A sign that the rut was ending. If you survive this you’ll bring offers to the sanctuary of surasthana to thank the archons for their blessing. Maybe after the feeling returns back to your legs of course. 
Suddenly your face was pushed into the side of his neck, the scent of sweat now stronger. 
“Bite.” His rugged voice commanded. 
Ah… he wanted you to mark him. With clumsy teeth, you felt around the smooth muscles. You can’t sense where his glands were so you just bit down at random along his neck. It was useless, you knew it, but still...
Alhaitham pushed himself eagerly against your teeth, encouraging you to bite harder with a growl. You obliged. 
His teeth ran along your raw neck, already covered in his bites and hickeys, searching for one last spot. Your jaw clamped down harder as his teeth sank into your neck one last time. Hips stilling as one final wave flooded into you, it was hard to tell when one orgasm ended and another began. 
Your hands found purchase around his back again, holding him close as you panted against his neck. Against yours a frustrated growl vibrated once more, his muddled mind confused as to why no bond has formed. 
“Why?”
There was that cold pierce of pain again. 
The large hand on the back of your head held your nose close against his searing skin. It could’ve just been your fried nerves, but as the darkness overtook your vision, you could’ve sworn there was a warm and opulent scent of wood and books.
 If you were reborn, in the next life could you recognize his scent?
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Your eyes opened up to blinding sunlight. Your body ached as if it had been through hell and back, bones threatening to turn into dust at any second. The large bed messy and only occupied by one body. Shifting your sight away from the stinging light, his empty pillow came into view. 
You weren’t sure what came over you, but even as your muscles screamed you pressed your nose into the cold pillow and inhaled. Nothing. Just sweat and disappointment. 
Just what were you hoping for? That a few nights of passion would birth a miracle? That you’d somehow turn into something you couldn’t be? In the end, you were still you. Those novels must’ve rotted your common sense, stupid. 
Bitter tears fell onto the pillow, you didn’t have the strength to hold back the sobs as they wrecked through your body. 
Yes, you were stupid. So stupid from the very start to believe that this could work. That maybe after a few more years, maybe at the seven-year mark, he could fall in love with you as well. 
The dream of his tender eyes looking into yours with love crumbled right there in front of you. 
 A cup clanged onto the desk in the room as footsteps quickly made their way to your side, a blurred figure knelt down. 
“Is your body hurting anywhere? I’ll take you to the Bimarstan.” Alhaitham gently sat your covered figure up, trying to see the extent of the situation. 
Your small hands pushed against his solid frame, his motion stilled as you refused to allow him to see your face. 
However, Alhaitham knows he didn’t have the right to. Not only did he invade your sacred personal space, but he did so like a wild beast. Not allowing your body to rest or replenish itself as he trapped you to the bed for almost four days. He deduced that you must be hurting, that you must be scared of him now, and that must be the reason behind your tears. 
Guilt was suffocating him. Those stupid urges, that stupid rut. His stupid hands refusing to let you go.
Throughout your whole marriage, you had put on the mask of independence, someone who did not need to lean on a husband for comfort. Yet here you were, bawling out your eyes in front of him like a child. Your façade has been cracked, tears soaking into his pillow and snot trickling down under his unwavering gaze. 
What was the look on his face right now? You couldn’t see through the mirage of tears blurring your sight, not that you had the courage to face him. Was it disappointment? Right now as he observed your vulnerable figure, did he feel lied to after all these years? Like he had just discovered the defects in a product? 
The freezing water of self-loathing, doubt, and insecurity filled you like a boat whose haul had been pierced by the jagged edges of an iceberg. You were drowning, your limbs kicking and thrashing with all their might trying to resurface. 
For a brief moment, your face bobbed above the crashing waves.
“Let's get a divorce.” 
Those were the only words you managed to choke out in the space between your sobs before your head disappeared under the murky waters once more. 
His whole body froze as he processed your words. Alhaitham had already deduced why you wanted to end this relationship, he had hurt and scarred you. Yet, like a child, he still wanted to clamber for more answers. 
“Why?” He said through clenched teeth, you couldn’t see it but his hands had a slight shake. 
“We’re not satisfied, Alhaitham. I-it’s not working, I-i can’t satisfy your requirements. I-i can’t make you happy, I-i can’t make you love… me.” Hiccups breaking up your sentences.
That was it, you spilled out all your secrets. Your lungs and throat hurting as if you just pushed salt water out of them. 
Alhaitham’s hands were balled up so tightly his nails broke the skin on his palms. 
So, you weren’t happy. He couldn’t make you happy. He felt as if he had dropped down to the tier of a fool. A fool who didn’t know how to make those bitter tears of yours stop. 
He released you. 
You felt his presence disappear from your side. The touch of warmth he provides was now gone as coldness fully engulfs your whole being. The tears just wouldn’t stop. Is this what those heartbroken sobs actually felt like? Why did you ever think this was something to be desired? You truly were an idiot. 
You weren’t sure how long had passed, a few seconds or a few minutes, but his presence returned back to your side. He looked as if he had something in his hands. Were they divorce papers? Ah, Alhaitham was a man who always had a plan for everything. Did he have a premonition that this marriage was doomed from the start? How long has he had them?
Alhaitham didn’t feel like he had the right to touch you. However, he needed to do something to make you look at him. Please, just look at him. His large hands tenderly grasped yours as if they were made from glass. You still hid your face from him.
“I won’t bind you to a life that brings you unhappiness. But.. You have to tell me” His voice wasn’t as steady as he wanted it. 
“If you want strolls through the market, tell me. If you want to be woken up with sweet whispers, tell me. If you want to hold hands across a date night table, then tell me. You have to tell me what will make you happy.” He wasn’t sure if those were your unfulfilled desires or his.
You could only tighten your grip on his hands as you sobbed harder. 
Your statement from before was incorrect. Alhaitham is also at fault for this pain you were going through. If there was one feeling that was just as addictive as love, it would be hope. Please, please don’t give false hope. 
“I-i’ll disrupt your-r life…” You managed to choke out.
His thumb gently stroke the back of your knuckles.
“How could you ever disrupt something you’re a part of?” 
Your hesitant eyes finally met his teal gaze, his eyes soft as opposed to their usual stonewall stare. With the walls down, you were given a glimpse into the whirling emotions behind them. Endearment, sincerity, and hurt danced along the green-blue irises. 
“As for your last reason, here. I should’ve just given this to you directly.” His hands let go of yours, picking up the item he had brought.
He handed over the book you had placed back on your bookshelf a few days earlier, the one he had left his note on. So, he didn’t have divorce papers prepared? Your trembling hands accepted it, and through your teary eyes, you finally noticed the torn-out green and gold note contrasting between the cream pages. 
Tenderly, you unfolded the piece of paper retrieved from the book. Quickly blinking to clear your eyes from excess tears. In the neat script of Alhaitham’s handwriting: 
 ‘Love born in the heart as opposed to Love born in the brain:
 When one loves at first sight or goes looking for love, then one is essentially just attracted to someone for the sake of being with someone. Not looking objectively at any warning signs or relationship flaws one has with someone. If there are any issues, the bias of infatuation blinds you to them. 
So that's loving with the heart, based solely on carefree addictive emotion, even though it feels stronger and more enthusiastic on the surface. 
Love from the brain is more logical and objective. You take the time to understand a person, seeing them for them with unbiased eyes. You understand them thoroughly and can maturely and objectively work through the turbulence of life together. Individuals who set aside precious time to manually repair creaks, maintaining the structural integrity of a home that shelters their affections. 
With the diligence of a conservator preserving ancient scripts on papyrus that should have been disintegrated long ago. 
The latter rather than the former describes the bond forged between my wife and I.’ 
Your grip crumpled the side of the paper.
“What does this mean?” Hesitation in your voice as tears blurred your vision of his teal eyes. 
“I love you.” He confessed. Three words have been overdue for years.
‘Don’t be filled with false hope’ Your mind echoed.
 “I’m not an Omega…”
“That’s not a requirement for love.”
That was it. It was as if you’ve been waiting all this time for him to say those words. The words of affirmation you didn’t know you needed. The key to free you from the cage of insecurity you’ve built for yourself. 
Your feet now touched the warm sandy bottom as air rushed back into your lungs.
  It looks like you’ve figured it out. Regardless of what definition of love has been pushed by external forces, these feelings he holds for you are objectively pure and true love. His hands tenderly took yours away from its grip on the paper. If you wanted him to, Alhaitham will spend the rest of his life proving it to you. He’ll conduct every experiment and collect all the data points to present to you. 
How silly, a red thread spun by two pairs of hands, created through undying trust, respect, and admiration had already tied the two of you in a bond. The love you were trying so hard for had always been right in front of you for five years.
The blanket draped behind your head resembled a wedding veil as the fabric folded and gathered around your trembling body. ‘Beautiful’ He thought. 
The room was a mess, sheets and clothes strewn all across the floor. The musk of lust still hung heavy in the air, the residue of sweat and other fluids still clinging to skin. Your hair was all over the place, tears still pouring from your eyes, his hair was no better. But in this moment, there was nothing more Alhaitham wanted to do than this: 
“Will you take me, Alhaitham, as your lawfully married husband? To love me through sickness and health, through poverty and wealth, and through sun and rain?” 
Sobs were still wracking through your body, words unable to form in your mouth but you were nodding your head enthusiastically. Your hands felt small firmly holding onto his larger ones. 
“I, Alhaitham, will take you as my lawfully married wife. I will love you through sickness and health, through poverty and wealth, and through sun and rain… I do.” 
It was a silly sight to behold, but in this moment as he finally sees a smile break out on your face, it means the world to him. 
There’s a saying from a well-known poet from Fontaine it goes as follows:
‘Love is being stupid together.’ 
And clearly, the two of you have been very stupid. Oh so stupidly in love.  
Fin~
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Authors note:
The long quote was taken from Stendhal’s The Red and The Black
The last quote is from Paul Valery
Also communication is v important to any relationship, people can’t read minds Alhaitham. If you made it this far, thank you and hope you enjoyed!
DON’T PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORKS ON DIFFERENT PLATFORMS. 
6K notes · View notes
adonis-koo · 5 months
Text
wicked • 17
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↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?
↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader
↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut
Word Count: 8k
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Note: it’s actually difficult to believe it’s been eight months since I’ve updated, went through two jobs, a friend group and a boyfriend who gaslit the absolute fuck out of me and made me experience female hysteria 😍 I wrote this chapter the night he broke up with me so it just has that nice little extra touch of ✨ intensity ✨ enjoy lovies and I will be back hopefully sooner then last time with another update
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It felt wrong, packing a small case of clothes while so many things at the castle had yet to play out, and Wheein’s life was hanging in the balance of it.
You had no intentions to trudge your way to the barracks but here you were; early morning where all of the guards were training and the person you were looking for was watching them, hands on his hips as he called out to one of them to tighten their guard.
You hadn’t planned on talking to him today, but leaving without so much as saying a word felt wrong, and perhaps after everything that had happened you were searching for sober reassurance.
“Jungkook.”
Everybody froze at the sound of your voice, you ignored all the eyes on you, after having lived in Penumbra for almost a year, you had somewhere along the way gotten used to all of the eyes that constantly followed you.
The guards exchanged awkward glances with one another, Jungkook looked surprised by your appearance, eyes glancing over you as if you were a hallucination, but after a moment it was evident you weren’t going to disappear upon blinking.
He glanced between you and the guards before he waved them off, “Keep going.”
You couldn’t stand the hopeful look in his eyes, almost a bit bashful as you walked in line with him further away from the barracks, “How can you expect me to leave the castle when Wheein is in a dungeon? And furthermore sending your aunt to try and reconcile with me?”
Jungkook frowned, “Well I doubted you wanted to see me after my drunk display- which truth be told I hardly remember anything I said, and It’s probably for the best that I don’t, Y/n…” He sighed as he stopped, “It was only a suggestion, it crossed my mind about the estate because truthfully I think you would like it there, and it would be safe,” His hands tenderly grabbed your shoulders as your lips curled in anger but you said nothing, “And I think it would be good for you to put all of this out of your head for a few days. I’ll continue to handle things here and if things change with Wheein trust that I’ll be able to take care of it.”
Your expression didn’t change as Jungkook frowned, “I would also like to remind you that she’s been one of my closest friends since I was a child. You’re not the only one who cares for her.”
You begrudgingly looked away from him but your expression softened, a stab of guilt surging through your stomach at the realization that he was very much right, “I know, I’m sorry I just-”
“Don’t be,” Jungkook replied, “You have a mean bite but I can appreciate your loyalty. I can’t undo the past but I want to make things right. I…” Jungkook paused, looking hesitant his eyes darting away from you and then back to you once more.
You offered no words forcing him to sigh, as if it was difficult for him to admit, “I want to be with you Y/n, not as two people amicable due to marriage or friends on uneasy terms…” He bit down on his cheek, unable to hold your steely gaze as his hand hesitantly reached out, tenderly stroking along your jawline, “I want more than that with you, I want all of the fire and all of the rage, I want the pain, the hardships. I want you, all of you, every flaw that makes you, you.”
You hadn’t even realized your eyes had blurred until his thumbs were tenderly pushing your tears away, “Is this a declaration?”
“It’s a promise.” Jungkook’s eyes held such a softness in them filled with something you still felt uncertain to assume, “You told me that you wanted to bear the deepest parts of yourself to me, all of your insecurities, the parts you don’t like about yourself, the parts you may even hate, so I am standing here to tell you to show me, show me all of it, and I will still take you as you are.”
He was saying many overwhelming words to you, but you knew he was dancing around the most important word, you could see it in his eyes, how it lingered on the tip of his tongue.
But something was stopping him from truly confessing it.
Perhaps even after all of these months, it was still too soon.
Evidently so given your circumstances.
“I don’t want you away from me,” Jungkook admitted, a frown slowly forming on his lips, “But if that’s what it takes, I would wait a lifetime if it meant your forgiveness, if it meant a second chance to be with you.”
“Is that why you’re willing to send me away?” You sniffled, “Otherwise you’ll continue to drink and wake me up in the middle of the night?”
“It wasn’t my finest moment,” Jungkook gave a weak smile, “But you can’t deny it got my point across didn’t it?”
Just his smile made something in you crumble, a vast desire to embrace him here and to forgive him, surely you could put this all behind you…?
But a bigger part of you didn’t want to rush this, you didn’t want to be complacent anymore, that was how you got into this situation, how you immediately jumped to Claudin’s offer rather than confide in the person you were married to.
It was such a raw feeling, you could feel it licking at your very soul, trying to tame your desire to throw all caution to the wind once more.
And for a brief moment you could feel Jungkook have the same reaction as you, as if it took every fiber in his being to not beg you to stay, you don’t know if you could stand your ground against him again if he came on as strong as he had last night.
“Just for a few days.” You whispered out as he frowned, giving you an understanding nod.
“You’ll love it there.” His hands finally let go of you, somewhat reluctantly.
And then it was silent for a long moment, tension still lingering in the air and both of you clearly hesitant.
“Then…I’ll see you in a few days.” You mumbled and Jungkook nodded once more. It felt like the ground was trying to engulf your feet as you turned around, feeling oddly empty at your goodbye, waiting for something that wouldn’t come.
What was it you had hoped for? A hug…?
Maybe a kiss…?
But then again, it felt as though you were no longer deserving of those things, Jungkook may have done things to hurt you but you had also done things to hurt him, how could you both love one another if you couldn’t trust one another first?
You wished Jungkook had reached out for you, to at least give you some form of affection before leaving, but he also knew this was true, and let you leave with no grief.
It left you feeling empty inside, but this was for the best.
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You journeyed over horseback for the day, trying to leave your fretting heart behind as you nervously glanced back at the far away sight of the castle, what if something developed with Wheein?
You felt as though you were betraying her just by leaving, more than anything you were desperate to get her back, perhaps that was why Jungkook was sending you away, as if he sensed your desperation would only heighten the longer this went on.
Dare you say, he feared the worst might happen if you stayed.
Your grip tightened on your reigns, once more trying to put it out of your mind, taking a deep breath you took in the heady scent of the pine tree’s the surrounded you, the Estate was much closer to the mountains then you had anticipated, by midday you had journeyed far enough that snow had already reached the ground.
“Are you nervous?” Yoongi had slowed his horse down to ride next to you, his eyes however still scoured ahead for possible danger.
“What do you mean?” You frowned as you glanced at his back, hearing a branch snap as your eyes darted towards the left of him.
Your faithful companion Fenrir having accidentally broke the branch he had been carrying in his mouth the past hour he had grown fond of, a whine leaving him in disappointment as he picked up the bigger side.
“Journeying away from the castle during these trying times…” Yoongi glanced back at you, a frown of his own, “It can’t be easy leaving with everything that’s happened.”
You didn’t reply for a long moment, Yoongi slowed down to ride beside you as he curiously took in your expression.
It was silent for a long moment before you finally relented, “It is difficult, but…After a long night, I figured this was probably best. It seems like my involvement in things only tends to make them worse. And truthfully there's no telling what lengths I’d go to at this point to get Wheein back.”
“Oh?” Yoongi looked curiosity once more, “I didn’t realize you had such a taste for danger.”
His joke made a smile finally tug on your lips, “Neither did I before coming to Penumbra. It seems this kingdom has a way of bringing out the primitive nature in me. But then again, it seems people have always looked down on me when I think of it.”
“On you?” Yoongi scoffed in amusement, “Dryad Matron of Eunoia? It’s difficult to believe, you’re like a pillar of light to the commonwealth of Penumbra, it used to drive the Prince nuts during your engagement.”
“It did…?” You peered somewhat hesitantly at him.
This made Yoongi grin, “Oh yes, when news of your engagement first broke out it had the people ecstatic, it had him gagging every second he heard good things of you.”
“This is hardly making me feel better…” You winced, though a small part of you was amused to hear this, though you wish you could say the same.
It always seemed to you that people in Penumbra didn’t fully grasp just how much people feared them on the outside world, instead poking fun at the titles they had earned as if it was a little joke.
The whole two years of your engagement are two years you’d rather die then live through again, the anxiety that kept you up at night, the endless amounts of tears you cried, the emptiness it left inside you how no one even tried to comfort you.
Looking back you understood, nobody wanted to feed you lies to comfort you, but at the time, you didn’t understand, it felt cruel.
“Not everyone feels that way about me, evidently from what I saw in the Underside.” You replied, somewhat reminiscing on the horrendous memory of the mock version of you.
“You shouldn’t pay that any mind,” Yoongi scoffed, “The humor is juvenile there, everything it stands for is juvenile, even it’s name; the Underside was a joke, a mockery meant for every royal that has to say it’s name with seriousness, point being- they don’t respect anyone who won’t give them money.”
You only shook your head, “It’s not just that though, there has always been a small part of people and court alike who haven’t liked me, even long before I was engaged to Jungkook. I was known for having a temper,” It made you smile wryly, “-The Bitch of Eunoia, that’s what they ran around calling me behind my back. It was horrendous in Kimhae.”
“Was it now?” Yoongi looked amused by this, “That in some ways does, and doesn’t surprise me.”
“The court ladies in Eunoia often liked to call me that as well. But it was very pronounced by Kimhae court men. When I was younger, I used to wear traditional Eunoian attire when i’d visit. Apparently shoulders and knee’s used to drive them crazy. I had one of the aristocrats boldly ask me if I was an exotic woman of the night, willing to pay for me.”
Yoongi’s jaw had dropped making you laugh as he gestured you on, “What did you say?”
“Something along the lines of calling him a perverted old man whom ought to have his loins cut off for making such a comment to a women- let alone a Princess.” The memory made you smile as you shook your head, “The Bitch of Eunoia…why is it men are allowed to be angry Yoongi? Why is it women are shamed so?”
Yoongi let out a hum, “This is indeed a good question, but perhap it’s because they know a woman's scorn could even bring heaven out of the sky. I’m not all too surprised about Kimhae- but you said Eunoians called you this as well?”
Your smile became saddened, “By many court ladies yes,” You scratched your cheek in thought, “I was always lonely as a child…the war took a toll on me, I was temperamental and childish. But the court ladies as children, also liked to mock me and egg me on. As we grew older they grew closer and I still stayed a distance away. They’d find any reason to pick me apart or give me more work to do. They were practically leaping for joy when the news broke that I was engaged.”
“Why do you think that was though?” Yoongi asked, “That they didn’t like you?”
You shrugged, you had never really thought about it much, rather you preferred to keep the past where it was rather then dwell on it, “I suppose it had a lot to do with the fact that while we were all training to be healers I excelled more at it, it came naturally to me and they ended up putting me in the tents before the others. They all assumed it was from favoritism…Maybe it was,” You pondered on this briefly, “I just remember thinking it wasn’t fair.”
“Fair?”
You didn’t elaborate on the word for a long moment, feeling something akin to guilt bubble in your stomach.
You glanced off into the distance where the mountains towered high, it made you feel so tiny in comparison to its greatness, and briefly you felt awe.
You always admired nature, how vast it was compared to you and all your humanly troubles, you turned to it and it’s kin when you needed comfort and in these moments you could turn to it when you were also troubled with words.
It was difficult to adequately explain to people the rage you had felt since you were a child, anger had always been in your bones, from the moment you were born. Your mother used to tell you, that when she gave birth, you had come out of her womb with a roaring cry.
You craved to be vulnerable, to be soft and tender, to be all the things you were not, and you were many things, just not those.
Many people people heard you, they just never listened, didn’t understand.
“I had a lot of resentment as a child, to everything, the war, my parents, our country. I didn’t want to be a healer, I didn’t want to have to watch people in my care die, I didn’t want to attend the burnings or hear the whales of agony and pain, the cries of mourning, the people who blamed me for not being able to save their loved ones.”
You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel haunted by those memories, watching the lifeforce leave someone's body as you tried to stop the bleeding, the maimed limbs and mangled bodies that were beyond your skill or help.
“I didn’t want to be made to go past our lesson times to keep studying, or made to go back in to practice when all the other girls were allowed to play. Or put in a tent over night while they all slept. It wasn’t fair.”You mumbled, perhaps still a lingering tone of resentment.
The past was the past, it couldn’t be changed, you had come to terms with this, but if you stopped and really thought about it, old feelings old eventually begin to resurface, it was why you tried so desperately to just forget about it.
At one time you blamed Penumbra, you hated it’s people for what they did, what they caused.
But then you married Jungkook and you journeyed here yourself, and saw with your own eyes, that these people, were simply people, who were also victims of their own royalty.
You felt the soft grip of a hand on your shoulder, “I am sorry, for what it’s worth,” Yoongi held a face of sympathy, “We all felt the same, or…I suppose a mutual feeling on the opposite side of things. Children being forced to enlist into a war we didn’t want to wage with little choice…”
You gently grabbed his hand giving it a small squeeze, a weak smile on your face, “It wasn’t fair for any of us. We’re all a bi-product of our parents' sins. It’s up to us now to break that cycle.”
You had arrived to the estate by nightfall and it was shrouded in tall pine and fir trees, the aroma had you closing your eyes for a moment to savor it, just as Jungkook said, it truly was beautiful.
Snow covered the ground in a few inches, and a chill was left in your bones, but you settled in rather nicely, Yoongi had managed to get a fire going rather quickly and it was quiet in the solitude of the estate.
For once, it was nice to be able to breathe without being watched.
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The first two days had went by surprisingly quick, but you had found a natural rhythm in nature, you went on long peaceful walks, kept yourself wrapped in a blanket while sitting on the terrace taking in the crisp cool air.
You had even spent the evening watching the snowfall outside, enchanted at how it came in big fluttering puffy balls, you had heard of snow before, but you had never actually seen it fall from the sky, like a thousand little gifts from the heavens.
It was dull and gray out today, the same as it had been for the last week now, at the estate was unsurprisingly no different.
Today however you had Yoongi set up some haybales in the pit area where guards would typically be trained, it was run down now, old boxes used as storage had been broken down and were hazardously strewn everywhere, long nine inch rusty nails sticking out of wooden pieces at razor sharp jagged angles.
But with Yoongi’s help you both had piled it up safely away and got a decent bit of space ready for training.
“Too stiff-”
“Ah!”
It was a second too late, you had already released the string, sending the arrow flying, it had veered off target as the string slapped your forearm with a sharp snap causing you to drop it.
Fenrir suddenly popped up from the ground where he had been laid out the last half hour, head cocked in concern at the noise that escaped you.
“How many times do I have to tell you,” Yoongi groaned, “You can’t hold it with a stiff arm! Look at this!” He got up from his spot as he held up your arm by the wrist, “It looks like somebody gave you a lashing! Jungkook will have my head if it isn’t heal by tomorrow.”
Your lips twisted into a sulky pout, “I am trying!”
“Not hard enough that’s the fifth time within the hour,” Yoongi whistled out as he let you go, Fenrir walking up to you as he sniffed your hand, giving it a lick before nudging it.
You rubbed your forearm, that was undeniably sore and throbbing with pain before placing your hand on Fenrir’s head to give it a nice long rub.
He had grown remarkably big in the last month, almost as big as you now, just a five or six inches shorter, it made you give a sad frown, at how big he was and soon he’d become a monstrous size…
You’d simply have to build a bigger stable you supposed.
“Aim comes naturally but holding a weapon does not,” You sighed as you placed both your hands on Fenrir’s head, now giving him generous rubs and pats that had him giving a toothy puppy grin that made you smile, “I’ve practiced here and there with a bow but with everything going on, I just haven’t made it a priority.”
Yoongi sighed, “Natural ability will only get you so far, discipline if a far greater advantage Princess, thankfully we can start working on this daily, I think it’d be good for you to have a hobby.”
“I have hobbies.” You frowned as crossed your arms.
“Such as…?” Yoongi gestured.
“Well…” You could think of several as a matter of fact, but you had given them all up once you had moved to Penumbra, the thought made you frown in realization, you had been so caught up in all the highs and lows of your new life that it was true.
You had hobbies, you just never participated in any of them.
“I suppose it would do me some good to work on it,” You sighed as you relented, “I still feel a tad guilty though, shouldn’t I be honing my skill in swordsmanship? Jungkook once told me that it’s expected the Crowned Prince and Princess are supposed to be the best at it.”
“Well…” Yoongi stretched the word, “This is true but, I don’t think somebody is going to fault you for not being the best at it. I’d like to think it’s an expectation from those born in Penumbra, not those who marry in. Not only this but if you are inclined to another form of weaponry, then it’s as simple as that.
“As long as you have some form of sword training then it’ll do,” Yoongi shrugged, “What matters is personal protection, some training is better then none, but having a form of training you’re good at is even better.”
“You Penumbrian’s certainly like taking precautions.” You sighed wistfully as you picked up your bow once more.
“The more the better,” Yoongi said, “Guards are great, but what happens when you’re caught without any? Learning to defend yourself is vital.”
You glanced down at your bow, “I understand but…”
“But?” Yoongi asked.
“Well, I suppose a part of me just feels odd,” You replied, “I grew up being taught to save lives, not take them,” You rubbed your neck in uncertainty, “When I took the Dryad’s oath, it was a promise to myself and my ancestors that I would abstain from our carnal nature. That I would never take a life nor would I consume its flesh. Animal or human. Even though the chances of me having to defend myself in such a way are so low, it’s odd to train for it, after taking that oath and living by it my whole life.”
Yoongi let out a small smile, “Then don’t view it as such.”
“What do you mean?” You tilted your head.
“Sword play is considered an art form in Penumbra, you can view a bow in the same light. It’s quite a beautiful thing really, it’s not just aiming and shooting, it’s how you hold it, the type of arrow you use, the weight of your feet. A lot goes into it.”
You thought on this for a while before nodding, “I suppose you are right.”
“Min Yoongi! I’m looking for a Min Yoongi?”
A voice called out that had you both glancing around the courtyard before seeing the courier at the gates glancing around before meeting his gaze.
“Yes?” Yoongi called out, walking up to meet him.
“I have a letter for you sire! It was urgent from the court” The courier dug through his bag before handing it to him, giving a short bow to you and then departing.
You glanced at it anxiously as you exchanged a look with Yoongi, was this about Wheein?
Yoongi opened the letter, reading it before he sighed,
“What, what is it?” You asked, anxiety in your voice.
“It’s not about Wheein,” You let out a breath in relief as Yoongi continued, “But it is a request for help.”
“What do you mean?” You asked.
Yoongi sighed, “There’s a watchtower just east of here, about an hour away give or take on horseback, apparently they’ve been dealing with a gang of bandits up there. Supposedly they’re going to siege the tower.”
“They can do that?” You asked in surprise.
Yoongi shrugged, “I suppose so, I don’t know what they think I can do about it.”
“Well you said you were an assassin before you became a knight? So surely that counts for something.” You said, setting down your bow on a lonely bale of hay.
Yoongi sighed as he folded the letter back up, “Even so, I won’t just leave you here by yourself.”
You frowned, “It’s only us here, and it’s secluded so I won’t be in any real danger, and you said it was only an hour away. I doubt you’d take long in taking them down.”
“Are you just trying to get rid of me?” Yoongi asked in mild amusement.
“I would never!” You said, “But I’d hate to see something unfortunate happen that could be prevented, you’re far closer then someone is to the castle. It would make the most sense for you to go.”
Yoongi sighed, “Even if I’m over cautious, it doesn’t sit right leaving you here all by yourself.”
“I wouldn’t be alone!” You replied, grinning as you gave Fenrir a solid pat, “Fenrir will defend me! Jungkook and I have been working on commands. Sit!”
Fenrir immediately complied.
“Very fierce.” Yoongi said dryly.
You held up a finger, grabbing a piece of wooden box that was free of any nails off the ground, “Fenrir,” He perked up at his name, “Attack!” You threw it causing his gaze to follow it with a loud snarling howl, his jaws crunching the board in half immediately grabbing the smaller end.
Running back to you before dropping down on his front paws, tail wagging as he tried to get you to chase him.
Yoongi looked a bit more startled at the thick board of wood that had been crushed as he nodded, “Okay, a little more fierce than before…” Yoongi thought about it for a long moment, “I suppose if I left now I would make it back by supper….Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
You gave him a small smile, “It’s only a few hours, I think I’ll be able to manage.”
Yoongi still seemed hesitant but he nodded, “I’ll go gather a few things then and be off. The sooner I leave the sooner I’ll be back.”
“It’s one night,” You smiled, “And then we’ll be back at the castle tomorrow.”
You had waved Yoongi off before you continued on with your day.
Spending another few hours training with your bow you had eventually given up once the string of your bow hit a particularly sensitive spot on your forearm.
The rest of your day had been spent taking walks along the trail’s with Fenrir before eventually settling inside, roaming the halls and exploring empty rooms.
And eventually the afternoon came.
But slowly the sun began to set and a vague feeling of dread followed along with it.
Yoongi…would’ve been back by now, right?
Or perhaps it took him longer to clear out the bandits.
You nodded at this as you stayed curled up in your large chair, Fenrir curled up beneath your feet as he let out a sigh, as if sensing your discomfort and unsatisfied with it.
Continuing to read, time went on and soon the sun had set.
You had managed to get a fire going on your own and had lit the candles in the hall, making the estate feel less consuming then it had before but it didn’t quell your anxiousness as the hour went on later.
Yoongi would certainly be back by now…
You were certain you’d manage the commute back to the castle if you had too but…You wouldn’t feel right just leaving without him, but you also had no way of sending a message to the castle for help without going back yourself.
You felt at a loss for what to do, as you roamed the main hall, pausing at the sound of the gate opening. Opening the doorway you hurried out to the courtyard.
“Yoongi, I’ve been waiting all day, you worried me sick!” You stopped short at the sight ahead of you.
“Not who you were expecting?”
Di Jin’s smug smile was the last thing you saw before the sudden blow to your head caused your vision to go dark.
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“You look lost.” Jimin commented as he plopped in a seat right next to his dearest friend, both sat out for breakfast on the terrace.
“Was it a good idea sending her to the Estate?” Jungkook stared down in hard contemplation, his food untouched, “If something happens I won’t be able too…!”
He inhaled sharply as he forced himself to lean back in his chair, but despite the motion his body refused to relax.
You had left two days ago and he felt a void ever since.
Jungkook didn’t realize how much your presence had filled every inch of the castle until you had left, and now, he felt utterly useless, it was one thing for you to be mad at him, it was another for you to be gone.
Jimin looked amused but felt bad for him nonetheless, “Nothing is going to happen to her, the estate is nice and tucked away, the entire court has forgotten about it anyways, it hasn’t been used in years. You did a good thing.”
“Did I?” Jungkook finally slumped.
He had been constantly replaying his last memory of you, the conversation you both had before you left, the memory of you looking up at him for a long moment as if silently yearning for some form of affection.
It left Jungkook’s hands twitching and an unfamiliar ache in his chest, he couldn’t even describe how it felt. And he was honest when he spoke with you the night before, true he didn’t remember much, but what he did remember was straight from his heart, he thought he knew many things.
But after meeting you he found out quickly that he knew nothing at all.
Tomorrow, surely you’d be back tomorrow. You hadn’t given him an exact timeframe, but surely when you said a few days, you had meant no more then three?
“What if I-”
“No.” Jimin cut him off, “The whole point of her going was to get out of the castle and by default away from you. Not only that but what if something happened to Wheein while you were gone?”
Jungkook sunk back in his chair, that was right…He had promised you he would take care of anything that might possibly happen.
He wouldn’t let you down.
“Have you found any evidence yet?” Jungkook lowered his voice, his gaze lingering on the far side of the table where Claudin had been dining with a group of court ladies.
Jimin frowned, “Yes but the problem is getting it open,” He huffed, “I was able to slip into his room last night, it was empty but he has a lock box beneath a hollowed broken floorboard piece, seems he was in a hurry when he left, otherwise it wouldn’t have been left afar.
“Regardless I haven’t been able to crack the lock. Whatever is in there, it has a master’s lock on it. I’ll need at least another dozen picks before I even come close to cracking it.”
Jungkook sighed as he shook his head in disdain, “Of course when we need Yoongi he’s gone.”
Their elder would be able to open it within the hour if he was here.
Jimin frowned as well, “I’ll try again this afternoon.”
Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, “That’s early for you.”
“We’re running out of time Jungkook,” Jimin sighed, sinking back into his chair as well, eyeing Claudin with a certain wryness, “I keep hearing stirrings from the guards about how they’ve narrowed their search, but they’re hellbent on saying it was Wheein.”
“Sire,”
They both paused at the sight of Taehyun, a frown on his face as he glanced between them both, an anxious look as he bowed slightly, “It’s the council…they’ve summoned you. It doesn’t sound good, you should come as well Jimin.”
Jungkook glanced at his friend but said nothing as he stood up, not liking this one bit.
The walk to the throne room was swift and Jungkook wasted no time in arriving, the other council members had just arrived as well.
Clearly he wasn’t the only one uncertain of what was going on, other members had started hushing whispers to one another, all glancing in Jungkook’s direction occasionally as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he glanced at the empty throne the seats on its left occupied by his aunt and uncle whispering to one another.
They both glanced at him once before quickly looking away.
The tension felt suffocating and the longer it lasted the more anxious Jungkook felt, seconds turned into minutes and the whispers began to get louder.
And all within a moment, the doors open and a sweepingly silence took over the room save for the sound of boots against the ground. Dae Seong walked with confience in every step before standing before everyone on the throne.
“It is with confidence I have come to announce something of the utmost importance,” His voice boomed, “The attempted assassination on our Crowned Princess, was indeed committed by her maid Jung Wheein, we have reason enough to believe it was her as all the evidence points as such. Her form of punishment will be burning at the stake, tonight at the height of the moon. I ask you all join me on this divine distribution of punishment,”
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Groaning softly your vision was blurry at first, and the first person to appear in your vision was not who you expected.
“Not so quick witted now are you Eunoian Bitch,” Seohyun sneered, her smirking figure beneath you as your vision of her doubled.
Your mind was confused as you only remembered Di Jin being here, your eyes closed briefly only for a sharp pain to spread through your side that you recognized as being kicked in the side by her.
Groaning your eyes opened and her eyes beaded, sneering at you as another voice spoke, “Come along now Seohyun, why don’t you go see if that insufferable knight has managed to come back yet, I will finish our business here.”
She eyed you warily but said no more as she left and soon Di Jin stood in front of you, “You have truly been a pain in my ass since I was enlisted to kill you, I only hope you realize that.”
There was no remorse in his eyes as he pulled the wickedly curved knife from it’s sheath and a sadistic smile curled on his face, “Don’t worry Princess, i’ll make sure you have a slow miserable death.”
Despite your sluggish movements, adrenaline had shot in your veins as you realized you were about to die, you had too much to live for still. You needed to see what would come of Eunoia, you needed to make sure Wheein was okay, that you would keep your promise to Jungkook.
You couldn’t die, and you would fight if it meant living to see it.
Your mind was slowly coming out of it’s haze as Di Jin stepped closer to you, realizing you were in the courtyard near the hay bales, the pile you had cleaned early next to you, your arm reached over to grab one of the planks, three long rusted nails sticking out of it.
You swung it with as much force as you could towards his legs, it made contact, the nail piercing his skin with a wet noise as he cried out in pain, falling back on the ground as he growled out. “You dumb bitch, a pain until the end!”
You attempted to crawl away, heart pounding in your ears as you scurried but he was still too mobile, yanking the plank out of his leg with a growl of pain as he managed to get on top of you, you caught his wrists as he attempted to plunge the knife in your throat, “I’ll enjoy watching the life leave your eyes. I’ll be sure to bring your head back for your little husband to see one last time.”
Your strength was already failing as you winced out, the knife slowly coming closer to your skin as you whimpered out as it pierced the first layer of your flesh.
It was an indescrible pain that had you yelping in pain,
“I’ll make these last few moments the most excruciating and perhaps if you beg me enough, I might just end your pathetic little life girl,” Di Jin grinned leaning in closer, “Maybe if you beg me more i’ll give you a little more than just a long death.”
He pushed the knife a little deeper as blood spilled from your skin making you cry out, his body weighing heavier on yours and his lips suddenly pressing to your ear, “Something tells me you’d prefer that over this.”
Something about his lips pressing against your skin lit something primal inside of you, every sense heightened inside you as your lips parted taking a wide bite into his neck, you could taste it first, the metallic flavor of blood running across your tongue and dripping down your throat and then his skin was next, uncomfortably soft and tender and next was the cartilage, it was rubbery and had hard bits in it, next was the sensation of something warm and wet against your face.
Di Jin could no longer properly speak, his grip suddenly loosened on the knife as you yanked the large chunk of flesh straight from his neck, grabbing the knife as you yanked it away shoving him down as you managed to get on top of him.
The chunk missing from his neck was ghastly, blood pooling on the ground, oozing everywhere and squirting from various places and he was gagging loudly, choking on his own blood.
Anger trembled in your body, it wasn’t enough, even with chunks of flesh missing and blood covering your face, skin hanging and cartilage visible it still wasn’t enough, before you could even think you plunged the knife into his neck, eyes blurring as you watched him gurgle, choking on his own blood as the life left his eyes.
Your hands were shaking as you waited for him to jump back to life to kill you, and then you slowly realized your vision was blurred from tears, your heart pounding as you took a shaky breath yanking the knife out of his neck before you let out blood curdling scream slamming it back in his neck again.
Jungkook’s betrayal.
Wheein being taken.
Exiled from your own kingdom.
Being forced to wed.
Made into a healer as a child.
Bone.
Blood.
Ash.
The mourning bells rang in your head and you could vividly taste the metallic on your tongue stronger than ever as the taste of raw flesh lingered in your throat.
Blood splattered upward as you stabbed the spot over again, all of the rage searing in your veins as Di Jin’s form became disfigured, his neck nearly separating his head from his body as you shoved the knife in deeper.
Hearing the wet gurgling noise as you heaved a breath, staring at his cold dead eyes staring back at you, the next scream was not your own, but it came closer within seconds before the door to the estate opened.
Seohyun was heavily bleeding from her left thigh, sporting a large bite as a loud snarl came from inside the door, shakily you stood up, “Fenrir, wait.”
The large wolf paused, and that's when you noticed the large gash on his leg, causing him to limp, rage quelled in your veins again as you limped over, Seohyun looked pale a ghost at the sight of you.
From the moment this woman met you, she had given you nothing but grief, attempted to humiliate you, belittle you, try to win a lost battle, attempt to kill you, and now she had hurt your precious companion.
Even with a mangled body behind you, it still wasn’t enough.
Tripping over her own two feet she fell down as you walked over, “We can talk about this Y/n!” Her eyes were as big as saucers, “Please! I’ll leave Penumbra and- and never come back.”
You felt nothing for her as you stood above her, watching pathetic tears drip down her face for a long moment, finally you knelt down, “If Penumbra has taught me anything Seohyun, It’s that some people do not deserve my forgiveness, nor my kindness.”
Her lips parted rapidly, her throat scratchy, and for the first time, you saw genuine fear in her eyes, “B-but you’re a Eunoian,”
Her words were pointed, bargaining, pleading even- if you listened close enough, “Eunoian’s don’t kill.”
Your lips slowly lifted into a joyless smile as you let out an uneasy laugh, “Well,” Your smile dropped, your hands were still shaky, unbridled rage still taunt in your veins.
The primal urge of need to prove her wrong, prove all of them wrong, that you would never again be looked down upon as weak or underestimated.
Your hand grabbed her neck, causing her to let out a choked sob as you squeezed it tight enough to choke her airway, yanking her nearly nose to nose with you.
“We’re not in Eunoia, are we?” Your nails dug into her neck, not stopping until you felt the blood from her skin oozing, you shoved her back before you stood up, ignoring her blubbering, tears trickling down her face as you walked away, “Fenrir.”
“Please!”
He let out a growl, “Attack.”
Her cries of agony were left of deaf ears as you walked back over to the corpse of Di Jin grabbing the knife from his neck and yanking it out before taking the sheath that went with it, adjusting it on your waist.
Collapsing on the ground away from him you noticed your hands for the first time, shaking, trembling as your vision blurred once more, scarred and covered in blood, just what had you done?
Fenrir’s mouth was covered in blood, but the whine didn’t escape your ears as he tenderly tried to sit down in front of you.
“I’m sorry.” You ushered, grief strong in your voice though uncertain of who it was for, yourself, your country, your companion, you reached out for him, gently rubbing your hand down his neck, “But we have a long journey ahead of us Fenrir.”
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The bells were ringing and a somber air had taken over, Jungkook had nearly lost his entire wits, his father had banished him from the room, not wanting to hear another word from him about this.
Being told he was too sentimental fell on deaf ears, he didn’t care, it was his friend, it was injustice, it was corrupt. He hated it, he hated that despite being the crowned prince, his son, his father simply didn’t care.
All Jungkook could do was wait for Jimin to unlock this damn box. But it felt as though it was too late, he was banned from so much as leaving his room, guards at his door there to keep him boxed in but this wouldn’t stop him.
pulling the cloak over his head, he opened the window, the bricks were jagged and uneven enough that he could easily climb down, he did it often when he was younger, much to the blindness of his father.
Scaling the wall, Jungkook got down, feet planted firmly on the ground as he kept the hood over his head tight as he made his way to the courtyard. A crowd had gathered, all wanting to witness the supposed assassin.
Nobody paid mind to him with his identity concealed, it would be soon now. If he couldn’t get evidence to get Wheein out, then Jungkook would take matters into his own hand. He didn’t want to have Wheein leave Penumbra, but if this is what it took to keep her safe until her innocence was proven, this is what he would do.
He owed so much of his existence to her, he couldn’t let this happen.
He wasn’t going to let this happen.
The bells stopped as Dae Seong stood up from his throne on the wooden stage they had set up, “We have all gathered here to see the execution of the assassin who tried to kill our crowned princess! Her very own handmaid, this is the killer, our own flesh and blood, and the punishment for a traitorous woman is fitting, burning of the steak!”
Wheein was brought out, her hands tied behind her back, her eyes had dark circles and she was crying as she shook her head, “Please! I would never do that to Penumbra! To Y/n! Please you have to believe me!”
But her cries were in vein as the crowd boo’d her, all shouting vile words her way as they dragged her down to the large wooden steak pyre that had been set up.
Jungkook shifted in his spot as he watched them begin to tie her up.
“Are there any last words you would like to impart to us traitor?” Dae Seong looked at her with pure disgust.
Wheein’s lips quivered as she parted them.
A loud bloodcurdling scream interrupted her before she could speak, the crowd tensed and everyone seemed alert, Jungkook was towards the front, having intended on getting her off there the right moment, but he quickly turned around to see people quickly departing and creating a path.
And the next thing he saw was hardly comprehensible.
You, covered in blood, your face was a horrific sight with it’s dried crimson color covering your mouth all the way down your neck, but what was even more horrifying was what was next to you, Fenrir limping beside you, a corpse held in his mouth.
Women screamed and men gasped in horror as they all moved.
The looks on the royals faces were indescribable, Dae Seong most of all, “What is the meaning of this?”
You stopped in front of the throne, Fenrir as if knowing this was the destination, dropped the body from his jaws, it smacked the ground with a wet echo, the head finally detaching from the body as it rolled towards Dae Seong.
You don’t think you had ever seen an expression quite like what Dae Seong had, and you were sure this would be the only time.
It was silent for a long moment before you finally spoke, your throat raw and scratchy, “That’s your assassin, he tried to kill me again just hours ago.”
Dae Seong’s look of shock slowly twisted into one of rage, “Where is your proof of this!” He stood up from his throne towering over you with a growl, “What does a girl like you have meddling in business you don’t understand and taking the lives of those who were helping!”
“Am I standing in front of you not proof enough?” You snarled back, “From the moment I have come to this kingdom I have been nothing but disrespected, disregarded, used, and seen as nothing more than a tool to further someone’s agenda. And i’m sick of it.”
“Even when it comes to my own life, you stand in front of me questioning it!”
“Why I ought too!-”
“I have it!” A voice cried out, Jimin was running from the side entrance of the courtyard, a notebook in his hand as he panted, his eyes widening when they set on you, ‘Y/n!? Are you okay? I have it, I have proof that Di Jin was the assassin! Here, your majesty.”
Dae Seong snatched it with a certain level of venom as he looked through the book, but slowly as his eyes read through, an unreadable look took over his face.
Exhaustion began to take over, your body beginning to sway.
Dae Seong closed the book with a sense of finality, “Very well,” He aid with gritted teeth, anger still simmering in his eyes, “Perhaps, you do have the grit to survive here princess.”
You didn’t hear his words though, your gaze had went down to the body of Di Jin, and swaying backwards you collapsed into an abyss of darkness, nothing more then multiple people calling your name.
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faeriexqueen · 2 years
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Eternity
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Written for @dgrayrarepair​​ - Thanks for hosting! Day 2 (Tuesday 10/25) - Angst: Unrequited Love | Enemies to Lovers | Hurt/Comfort | Amnesia | Forced Marriage Title: Eternity. Fandom: D. Gray-Man. Pairings: Alma Karma/Tyki Mikk. Rated: Explicit. Words: 9.3K+. Tags: Fantasy, Angst, Royalty, Magic, Curses, Fairy Tale Curses, Forced Marriage, Arranged Marriage, Forced Intimacy, Dubious Consent, Rape/Non-Con Elements, Lemon, Tentacles, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Past!Yulma (Please see AO3 for full list of tags and warnings). Chapters: 1/2. Summary: In a desperate attempt to save their kingdom, Alma’s family strikes a deal — a dangerous one, that leaves Alma at the mercy of powerful sorcerers. One, who Alma will be soon bound to for all eternity. Chapter 1 Excerpt:
The journey north was long and tedious. Hooves beat against the ground, the small traveling party riding as dark clouds loomed overhead. The sky was painted shades of indigo and purple despite the fact that night had not yet fallen, storm clouds brewing close to the earth. A chill lingered in the air, bitingly cold as the wind whipped, the cloaks of the travelers shielding them as they rode on. Alma inhaled. He gripped the reins of his horse tightly, the beast trotting along as several soldiers flanked each side of him. He kept his gaze downcast, avoiding accidentally locking any gazes with any of the party members — the guards or his older sister, Renny, who rode close by. Alma struggled not to cry. It was for a noble cause — that was what he had been told. That Alma agreeing to this arrangement would save not only his family, but the whole kingdom they ruled over as well. For months now, the land had been under multiple attacks from akuma — hellish demons that plagued the earth, crawling from the depths of the underworld and preying upon unsuspecting humans whenever possible. In the past, the kingdom had been able to fend them off with specially trained soldiers — exorcists. In the past, it had always been enough. However, akuma activity steadily increased. The demons grew more bloodthirsty, and the kingdom’s borders were breached, innocent lives lost as the attacks worsened. Eventually, it became too much — and even the exorcists were unable to fend off the demons entirely. So, Alma’s family grew desperate — so desperate that they struck a deal with one of the most dangerous clans of sorcerers ever known.
Read on AO3.
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starillusion13 · 4 months
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cold husband mafia mingi x reader where they get into an argument then the reader is kidnapped and gets hurt infront of him and falls unconscious give me all the angst you’ve got 🫶🏻
I AM LOST...
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Pairing: Mafia husband! Mingi x Wife!reader
Genre: Angst, Mafia, Family au
W.C: 4.2k
Warnings: arguments b/w husband and wife, neglection of married life, mention open cuts with knife, kidnapping, get shot, blood loss. Regret.
Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity
Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated . Applause to the ones who come up to me to interact and they know how friendly I am. Okay enough!
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“Why don’t you understand?”
You angrily put down the phone on your bed and brushed back the loose hairs from your face. You know it’s not a certain thing for you to be in this situation but you didn’t expect that even today also, he was going to treat it as the usual day. You were not expecting much from him but at least he could have tried to appreciate your efforts for the night.
You glanced at the clock and looked down at your long-slit dress for the night hugging your body. Few moments back, your mirror reflected the beauty of the night with a bright smile adorning your look but now your face reflecting the sadness. Sadness or loneliness.
Throwing the heels to the side of the room, you picked up the night sleep-gown to get change into it. Taking the phone in your hand, you checked through the notifications for the last time for the day, there’s still no texts from him of changing his mind. So, you are just going to sleep without even eating the dinner. You have already texted the restaurant to cancel your booking for the night and paid extra charges for the arrangements before heading to the bathroom.
It’s been an hour that you have locked yourself inside the bathroom when you heard a faint knock. When you turned off the tap, you could hear the light banging at the door.
“Who is there?”
“Ma’am, Is everything okay? I was calling you for last ten minutes and sorry to enter the room without the permission but I was worried for you.”
Oh. You were zoning out and didn’t hear your name being called. You could hear the worriedness in your maid’s voice and she is the only one who knows to accompany you even when she is busy or having her special days. Atleast, she understands you and knows what you are going through in your life. You literally envy her as she is not rich like you but having a nice and moderate life where she is actually happy unlike you who don’t know about happiness after the marriage.
“Ma’am?”
“I’m okay. Just need some time alone and I’ll be fine.”
You heard a faint ‘okay’ and click of your bedroom door shut. You sighed and stared at the mirror for few minutes before heading outside the bathroom. Slow footsteps took you near the window where you could see the view of the busy streets of the city. Your one hand resting on the glass window looked like as if you are caged in the room, maybe you are, just the way you are restricted to this marriage.
When you heard your maid calling out your name again, you let her in but still facing the window. You have tried not to show your vulnerable state to her but everytime you failed and cried to her. She was always there to comfort you, even today as well.
“Are you crying?”
You glanced at your reflection to the side, you could see a tear-line down on your cheeks and your fingers raised up to feel it. To feel the pain of your silent scream.
“I don’t know but why am I even crying?”
The mother like figure setting the food on the corner table, made her way towards you. She sympathetically smiled at you and when she reached near you, patting your head and taking hold of your one hand, brought you to sit on the edge of the bed. You stared at the hold and silent tears fell on top of it.
 “Am I not worthy for his time?” you asked in a hushed voice.
She rubbed your palms and hummed, “It’s not about your worth my dear. He is just distant from everything. You know when I first came into this house to work, I thought he really hate me as his maid or he doesn’t like a particular thing about me which is why he is being so cold to me. But gradually I got to know him, he is just a man who grew up as a child neglected by the family and so he doesn’t know how to really express himself.”
“But I am his wife. Does he not care about this? If he didn’t want to marry then why making my life miserable.” You gulped the lump in your throat and inhaled the sob that could tear out any time. You just want a little time of his where you can spend some time like a couple and talk about our married life.
“I know, Y/N. It’s really hard for you but some things need time.”
“It’s been one year…” you looked at her and she nodded.
“I hope he would soon see how he is ignoring a beautiful soul like you. He really loves you though or he wouldn’t have done so much to keep you safe here. He is just scared to open up with you as his parents never listened to him so he thinks that you might behave like them as well. As it was a contract marriage so he thinks you are with his parents but trust me, his first priority is you.”
You chuckled bitterly, “Never. His first priority is this mafia business which would never let him to come closer to me. He is just doing everything because this is his house and his properties which are needed to be kept safe-“
“And you are my wife.”
Both of you turned towards the door to see the man in messed up condition standing at the doorway with his coat in one hand and placing the gun in the drawer of the table near the corner table.
The maid stood up and excused herself to leave the room, leaving you with Mingi. When passing him, she asked quietly if he had eaten but he just shook his head and told not to bring him dinner, everything inaudible to you.
His eyes look tired and hairs disheveled, lazily he threw the tie on the sofa and walked towards the mirror. Your eyes following his movements and when he caught you looking at him through the mirror, you didn’t look away but locked your eyes with his.
“Your wife?” a hatred filled undertone spilled from your mouth.
He waited to see if you wanted to say anything more but only tears flowing down your eyes. The only thought came across his mind was how he had messed up today, the very first anniversary of both of yours. The mission was important but he couldn’t suddenly let the enemies know that they have a hole of his absence and take advantage of his gang, as he is the main snipper of the Mafia ‘Ateez’.
“Yes.” His eyes glanced at the food kept covered at the corner table and sighed, “Eat your food. I had my dinner earlier and you should not sleep in empty stomach.”
“I would rather die than eating dinner.”
Your words somehow hit a nerve inside him as he skipped towards and made you stand up, gripping your shoulders tightly. “What did you just say?”
You tried to read him but you could only see fire eyes staring back at you. You glanced at the grip on the shoulders and saw few cuts on his knuckles and wrists, maybe the mission didn’t succeed. So what? He is now going to show his frustration on you?
“I can’t live like a stranger in this house even when I’m living with the person, I got married to last year. Have you ever considered our life in a serious way or it’s just a contract mission for you. You could have said before our marriage then I would have done something to prevent it. Why was it necessary to make my life miserable for your mafia business?”
You were shouting on his face and you could see his furrowed brows and piercing eyes searching for your every emotion. His grip on you loosened and you swatted his hands away from you.
“Y/n…”
“Stop it. I’m tired of listening to your same excuses.” You pushed your hairs back and continued, “This mission was important. I’m doing things which is good for us. Same words.”
Mingi exhaled and proceeded to remove the wrist watch.
“You know it’s not an easy thing to be the part of a gang member and also maintain the family. You need to understand some things. Don’t act childish and whine for little things.”
“little things? You are an emotionless monster, Mingi. Do you even care about other’s feelings?” You rubbed your eyes with your sleeves, “I tried to understand your situation before. Everytime whenever I got disappointed with your attitude, I tried to convince myself that everything would be okay once the missions get over. But never.”
“This is my life, Y/n.”
“and what about my life? Before the marriage I dreamt of getting a husband who would be caring and loving to me. I never wanted money or a luxurious life to show off people but I wanted someone who will stay with me, understand me. Mingi please, I’m tired of all these.”
He stayed silent.
“I’m really a monster. Don’t forget I’m a member of ‘Ateez’ so I should not have feelings for anything and of course, I can’t be available like the other husbands. I gave you everything. I bought you all the things you have ever wanted, I have taken you to all the places you have wanted to visit and still here you are complaining about your life.” He has never shouted at you and today the way he raised his voice has reached the limit.
“Mingi……I need love.” You whispered the words. You just want to disappear from this place at that moment. He has heard what you had said and he stopped in his track entering the bathroom.
“Y/n, why can’t you understand that-“
“STOP! I am fed up with this. I’m leaving this place right now. Don’t try to find me unless you know how to become a husband.”
You grabbed your phone and purse laying on the sofa and slide the jacket hanging on the hook and slammed shut the door. Mingi stared at the door through which just now you have exited. A tear drop fell from the eye. Not your, but his. He is crying. He brings his finger to feel the tears on his cheeks. He deserves it.
“I’m sorry….”
He threw the towel on the bed and quickly dialled a number and waited impatiently for the other line to pick it up. 
“Hello? Is anything wrong?”
“Yunho, please track Y/n’s number and see where she is going. I know she must be going to her best friend’s house but she was restless when she left the house so I hope she doesn’t do anything stupid and go to her house safely.”
“Mingi, calm down. I will keep a watch on her. And, you still didn’t apologize right? She needs you, Mingi. You are her husband and you know she is not used to this kind of dark life yet her parents forced her into this but you need to remember, she is that bubbly Y/n from our class and she deserves happiness. I hope after she comes back to you, you treat her the right way. Right way I meant, you will give her all the love she needs and deserves.”
“I know… please keep a watch on her.”
“I will.”
After hanging up the call, he stared at the phone screen and unconsciously, he tapped on your name to call you but his finger hovered over the call sign and sighed. You wouldn’t pick up and he made a mental note to bring you back.
After a while when he exited the bathroom, he glanced at the bed. Usually, he would find you sleeping or scrolling through the phone. Your food still kept in the corner, getting cold just like the relationship between you both. It would not be a surprise if you leave him at this point because it would be all his fault after all. It’s surprising how you are a carefree, bubbly and a sunshine girl got entangled with confined, ruthless and cold boy.
He has always watched you since the middle school and he envied how cheerful you always were unlike him, who had to hide the mafia family business and always acting cold towards everyone. Never in a while, he thought that he would be marrying you in the future and now here you are both struggling in your life. And moreover, he is the one destroying your butterflies and rainbows with the thunderstorm of his coldness.
The bedroom door slammed open and the maid supported herself at the doorframe and spoke between the heavy breathes, “Sir Yunho is here. He is calling you urgently.”
Mingi threw the towel on the bed and signalled her to go along with him. Meanwhile, he asked her if she knows the reason for his urgency but the words came out her mouth made his heart beat stop for a moment.
“It’s about Y/n.”
He inhaled sharply before almost running to the living room where Yunho was sitting in a messed up state and looking at the phone screen. Mingi took large steps towards the man sitting on the sofa and grabbed his collar to make him stand.
“where is Y/n? I told you to keep a watch on her then what went wrong?”
Yunho held the wrist and tried to calm him down but he himself was sick worried of the thing that happened earlier.
“Mingi, I was tracking her location as you told me but suddenly, she changed her direction to a different road and I quickly went there with Jongho as it was the way leading to the highway where all the deals happen at night.”
“Why was she going there?”
“I didn’t know why she suddenly went there but when I reached her last location, she was not there and I found her phone lying at the side of the road and I saw a number texted her to go there who pretended as you. She trusted the text that you were asking her to meet and you would be apologizing for everything. We need to do something.”
Mingi didn’t know what to think at the moment. Should he scold you for believing any number to be him? Or should he just shoot everyone here and there just to find you quickly? He brushed the damp hairs back and took heavy breathes to calm him down to come up with a better plan as panicking is not a mafia thing and he needs to think wisely so that you don’t get hurt.
Yunho got a call from one of his gang members and conversing over the call, he turned towards his other mate. He watched how he was being so impatient for his wife. Even if he doesn’t show any feelings but deep down, he loves his wife the most. He is just scared not to harm her in the flow of his mafia life. He wants to keep you as bubbly as the childhood Y/n but he is hurting you in the process.
“Hey.” Mingi looked up to his member’s call. “Jongho has tracked the message number id and it’s from the District-9 and it only means there is one person who could have kidnapped her. It’s Bangchan and his gang members to take revenge for the last month’s mission.”
“I will go there and take her back. I need to leave right now.”
“Are you stupid? If he attacks you then neither you are getting her back nor you will be safe.”
“You don’t tell me what to do now. I don’t care to spend time coming up with a plan. Y/n is in danger and she is scared.”
Even when Yunho tried to stop him, Mingi harshly pushed him away and sprint towards the garage to get into his black car. His black outfit blending with the cold dark night. Even the roads through which he was driving through were silent but he was in chaos. Many thoughts passing through his mind and he was just praying that you were safe.
“Please wait for a while…I’m coming, Y/n.”
He drove the car faster.
.
.
.
“Well my little angel, is the cut burning?”
Your teary eyes looked up to the voice who was calling you with an endearment but mocking at you. The leader of this new gang and you just know only his name, Bangchan as others were just calling each other with code numbers.
“Please…I want to go home…It’s hurting please…” you tried to pry yourself off from the ropes binding you to the chair but your weak body couldn’t go against it and the cuts over your hands and legs were burning with your every little movement.
“It would have been easy if you would have told me the details of your husband’s base but your stubbornness is only causing you pain so my boys had to torture you like this. So, are you willing to speak now?”
He gripped your jaw harshly and brought his face near to yours. You shook your head to avoid him but he held you tighter.
“TELL ME!”
“I don’t know…”
“I swear-“ Before he could finish both of you hear loud screaming and shootings outside. He stared at you and held the gun towards you when he heard footsteps nearing the basement.
Within the seconds, the door kicked open by Mingi. At first, he didn’t notice you but when his gaze fell on Bangchan, the latter smirked and looked below when he followed the gaze, he watched how helpless and tiredly you were tied to the chair.
what the fuck…
“So, the snipper of Ateez is here without the invitation. Oh, wife pulled you here but as far as I have heard, it doesn’t really matter to you what’s going to happen to her.”
“Shut up.” He hissed.
Mingi took one step and you screamed in pain. It pierced his ears and heart at the same time. He is used to your laugh, your smile, your shouts, your complains but your scream in pain is not the thing he ever wanted to hear. It’s too painful for him. Maybe, because he is the snipper so he is not used to hear anyone’s pain from so close. No, its because it’s you who is screaming.
“Take one more step. You will see more fresh new cuts.”
His eyes scanned your whole body, Your sleeves and edges of the dress had patches of blood. Earlier in hurry, you changed into this light peach colour dress but he didn’t expect it to be covered in dirt and blood later the night.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Watch me.” He again cut open a line of skin on your forearm. Your scream again filled the room, deafening every other sound to his ears. Mingi balled his fist and gritted his teeth.
You haven’t asked for his help. Why? It’s because you don’t trust him or you still couldn’t believe that he was there to save you not for his mafia business.
“Mingi…please help me…”
That was the only push he needed to run towards the leader and punched him. This caused Bangchan to lose his grip on the knife and gun. He wiped off the blood from the corner of his lip and glared towards Mingi and the latter again punched him on the floor. Satisfied, he crawled towards your chair and starts to untie the ropes and chain. You were trying to stay awake but the blood loss was making it hard. Prying everything off from you, he hugged your weak body and rubbed your back.
“It’s okay, Y/n. Don’t be scared. I’m here.”
You didn’t reply but you were focusing on something, rather someone. Bangchan was pointing his gun towards Mingi’s back and when you realized, your eyes went big and you managed to switch the sides and as soon as your back facing the leader, he shot the bullet.
Who got shot?
You.
You leaned towards Mingi and held his biceps tighter. The pain was much worse than the previous cuts but somewhere you were feeling a relief that finally you would be at peace.
Bangchan ran away from the basement but that didn’t matter to the man who was in shocked to see you dying in his arms.
No. he can’t just let you die like this. He needs to apologize. He needs to make up for all the mistakes he has done.
He carried you to his car and Yunho followed him. Earlier four Ateez members followed Mingi and they helped him to attack on the District-9 basement.
“I will drive. Keep her awake until we reach hospital.”
Getting inside the car, he was calling out your name frantically and you have never seen him like this. For you.
“I want to sleep.”
“No no please. You will sleep but for a while please hold on. Don’t close your eyes please. Stay with me Y/n…”
Your cold hand reached to his cheeks and rubbed the rough skin.
“Are you crying for me? Am I being a bad wife?”
“No. you are the best wife ever someone wanted. It was me who was bad for neglecting you. Please stay with me…”
“I love you, Mingi.”
You closed your eyes and your breathing almost became faint. Mingi panicked at the situation but when Yunho pulled the car in front of the hospital. Without wasting any time, he skipped towards the emergency room with you in his arms. Of course, this was their personal Mafia Base Hospital and no one would dare to stop him.
Its been an hour when the doctor came out the room informed Mingi that you were in a critical situation as the bullet has damaged some area around it and your blood loss adding the worst possibilities to it. He was on the verge of losing control but after Yunho’s request, they let him to meet you.
You were sleeping peacefully. You wanted to sleep and now you are sleeping. He chuckled bitterly to this thought. He sat on the stool by the side of your bed and held your weak palm between his shaking ones.
“I’m sorry…”
Tears fell on the hold. Your breathings were very faint but as far as he could hear the sound, it was a little relief to him.
“I was scared, Y/n. I have seen you since the middle school and you were always the bright sunshine and I was the dark coldness. We never matched with each other but yet you smiled towards me.”
He sobbed before continuing, “When I got to know that you will be my wife. I had two feelings, one to be scared like how to take care of a family apart from the mafia life and the second, I was happy for the first time that I’m getting someone like you in my life. If the marriage was not important then I would have tried my best to keep you far away from someone like me, never to get involved with me.”
He paused for a moment to stare at you. Your beautiful face covered with cuts and now having antiseptic creams on them but he could feel the burning pain you had went through before. He caressed the side of your face and head. Smiling a little. Hoping for you to wake up and hug him and forgive him. He knows he doesn’t deserve the forgiveness so soon but just wants to see your lively face and smile once again. He needed to prove you his love and he swear he would do anything for you to see happy and not to be in this situation again. NEVER AGAIN.
“You are a treasure in my life whom I tried to protect so hard that the pressure broke it in the end. I destroyed you with my own hands. You are my queen but I caged you like a prisoner. Please wake up, Y/N. I can’t live without you. All these years, I have watched you from afar but when you are near, I am lost.”
He waited for you as if you are going to reply him back like other times. He wants you to shout at him, hit him, do whatever to make him realize your worth but he couldn’t afford to see you sleeping on a hospital bed, supported by some machines. Every drop of blood is precious than the most expensive ruby to him.
“I’m lost with you. I’m lost without you. For you I’m lost. I love you, Y/n. You are the only warmth in my cold life.”
‘I love you, Mingi.’ This was the last thing he heard faintly from you and your voice echoing inside his head.
“Please, don’t leave me. I want to change myself for you.” He planted a soft kiss on the back of your hand and tears falling from his eyes continuously.
You need to wake up or his coldness will make him lost in the void from where no one can ever bring him back. You are his first love and you can’t be the first reason to hate love.
I hope you liked it anon <3. I was really down while writing it coz about that post who insulted me for writing ffs so If the fic is not how you wanted then please wait for other fics, I will surely try to do better.
Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades [open!]
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angry-geese · 4 months
Text
The Weight - Sukuna x Reader
Warnings: smut//not osha compliant. arranged marriage au. blood/cannibalism mention. biting/size kink. unprotected sex, creampies. afab reader
synopsis: an arranged marriage au where the reader chooses sukuna instead of one of the men from her village
word count: 10.3k
a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts since probably last february and I finally got around to finishing it lol
jjk masterlist
As mid-afternoon turns to dusk, you realize you have nothing to show for your hours in these woods. You know, reasonably, you should cut your losses for the day, and return home. In a little over an hour, it’ll be dark, and navigating these woods will become a challenge. But winter has come and gone with a vengeance, leaving food stores low. The thought of fresh meat is too much for you to quit now.
Fresh tracks mark the once-smooth creek bed. Deer. At least three. They’ve bedded down here, as evident by the smell, and flattened patches of grass. For several meters, the tracks nearly overlap themselves, before heading off in separate directions. It's been years since you’ve traveled this deep into the woods, and those few times were accompanied by your father, or uncle. Your solitude has you jumping at every rustle of a leaf, and snapped twig. It's when the woods fall silent that you need to worry. That means a predator is near. As long as you can hear bugs, or birds, you'll be okay.
Further ahead—maybe twenty yards—is a buck that stopped to drink from the creek. 
You knock an arrow, lining the broadhead up with your target. Something feels wrong. The string feels too taut. It slips from your fingers prematurely. The arrow hits just behind the front shoulder, and—in theory—should puncture the heart. A shot like that—in theory—should drop an animal like this where it stands. Today it doesn't. The buck takes off running.
Between the footprints, and little droplets of blood, a clear trail is left behind. When you do finally come upon your prey, the crickets have fallen silent. The buck lays on its side in the grass, chest heaving. You ready your knife to put the poor thing out of its misery when something—someone—emerges from the treeline on the opposite side of the clearing. 
Your body is moving before you can fully process the situation. You flatten yourself out on the ground, hiding under the cover of some bushes. If the man does see you, then he makes no note of it. He draws closer, stopping to kneel beside the buck. It’s too dark to make out his face. Something about him has the hair on the back of your neck on end. He hauls the carcass up onto his shoulder, turning to return in the direction in which he came. 
The absurdness of it all has you frozen. You blink several times as if to make sure this isn't your mind playing tricks on you. Once reality sets in, you’re back on your feet, chasing after him.
“That's mine!” You say, hoping the volume of your voice is enough to scare off the thief. It isn't.
What you first assume to be another trick of the lighting becomes a horrifying reality as you notice the true size of the man. The man—being, or whatever he is—towers over you, completely dwarfing you in size. Mild annoyance is all that is visible on his face as he turns to you. From the deer, he rips out your arrow, tossing it at your feet. The broadhead has snapped off, as well as the shaft is bent. If you so desire, you suppose you could repair it. Not that you have any wish to. Sometimes it is simply better to cut your losses.
But you have more pressing things to deal with right now.
“And just what do you plan to accomplish, little lamb?” He asks. “A deer like this can weigh as much as a grown man. Do you plan to carry this back all by yourself?”
It’ll be tiring, but not impossible. Gutting and dressing it here would remove a lot of unnecessary weight, but would render plenty of valuable meat and organs useless. All that extra meat and skin could be used better elsewhere…
You are overcome with the urge to run, yet his gaze has your feet firmly planted on the ground. Your eyes fall to a small red splotch on his kimono—a blood stain. It can't be from the deer, it's far too old. It’s not until your knees knock together that you realize you’re trembling.
The action of him moving closer causes a cry of panic to leave you, unintentionally calling out for your father. 
“What—who are you?!” You ask as you scramble backwards. 
“I am Ryoumen Sukuna, the King of Curses, my dear,” he says. “Now, shall we get this back to your home?”
Fear threatens to overcome you. Even if you could draw an arrow in time, you doubt it would truly hurt him. Yet, in spite of your fear, you know he has no plans to harm you. Once you’re in sight of the village, he sets the deer down, and gestures for you to take the lead.
“Why are you helping me?” You ask. You’re certain the look on your face suggests you still expect him to eat you. 
“Why do you ask?” He says. “Maybe I wanted the location of your home. It seems there are plenty of sacrifices here for me.”
“Wait a minute!” You say, eyes widening with fear. A mix of panic and guilt consumes you. “You can't-”
A look resembling amusement crosses his face. “I mean no harm to your village,” Sukuna says, “but in five years, I will return to claim what is mine.”
The strange man would vanish upon reaching the outskirts of your village, and in the nearly five years that follow, you would not once traverse so deep into the woods. On several occasions, you would try to retrace your steps, but would never once come across that clearing. When you would bring it up to your father, or any of the other village elders, your concerns would be brushed off, or outright ignored. Years would pass and slowly, achingly slowly, you would forget about the man in the woods entirely.
The coming spring brings your twenty-eighth birthday, and the looming threat of being an “older” unmarried woman.
If you had any say in the matter, you wouldn't get married at all. Plenty of older women exist, happily unmarried, yet your mother insists that you must find a husband. Any attempts to convince her that you’re fine with the way things are, fail. Once it became clear you weren't going to seek a husband on your own, your mother took upon the task of finding a suitor for you. Over the course of several months, meetings were arranged with various men, and with each rejected one, your mother grew more desperate to find the perfect match. 
Your mother insists you're cursed. Your father thinks you’re simply unlucky. When you asked how marriage was supposed to fix that curse, she had no answer for you.
In the months prior to your birthday, your mother proposed a deal to you: meet with another man—the son of a wealthy merchant. That if this meeting went well, even if you didn't marry him, she would stop pestering you about getting married. Tired of her pestering, you relented, and agreed to meet him. And as the days draw closer, you only feel dread towards him. 
The outcome of tonight has already been decided by you: failure. Whether your mother knows this or not is hard to tell. Judging her tense nature, you suspect she knows your plans.
“I was already married at your age,” she says, tightening your obi, “I used to have a dress just like this.”
“The difference is, you knew him already,” you say, “and I am meeting a stranger.”
“I am simply doing what I think is best for you,” she says. “This is your chance to get out of this village—to live a better life! Don't you want that?”
Her eyes meet yours in one last pleading glance. It makes you wonder; did she have such a conversation with her mother? Did your grandmother go through such trouble to match her to your father? Or did this come easier to her, than it did to you?
You suppose he’s handsome. The silks he wears are clearly expensive, with threads like woven gold. His features are sharp—what one could describe as noble, but you find him truly dull. But he is scrawny—squishy, with hands that show he has never worked a day in his life. The little conversation he makes is dreadfully boring. His father is an older man, with a graying beard, and sagging eyes. His mother is considerably younger, dressed in blue, with a small scar on her chin. Her silky black hair falls down her back. The little conversation you do have is short, but polite. The typical small talk you would have with a stranger.
Your mother does her best to talk you up. She’s gotten pretty good at that over the past few years. Your father interjects here and there, but it's your mother that does the majority of the talking. 
“She’s strong. A talented hunter. Good with a knife.” Your father says. This time, you’re paying attention when he speaks.
Your potential father-in-law seems unimpressed with your father’s attempts to talk you up. Perhaps if you were a son, this conversation would go differently. If you were a son, your mother wouldn't be so stressed about you being married before 30. Your growing irritation mounts when you set down your cutlery, turning to look the old man in his eyes.
“And what about him?” You ask, motioning to his son. “Look at him—how is he supposed to give me a strong child?”
The energy in the room seems to shift entirely. Your father nearly chokes on his wine, but his eyes are firmly trained on your mother. She glares daggers at you, gripping her spoon so tightly that her knuckles turn white.
“What?” You ask. “I am the one getting married. Don't I get a say in this?”
Are you trying to screw this up? Your mother’s face seems to ask.
“A good father controls his daughter,” the man says, “especially one with such a sharp tongue.”
“I can serve this village, or I can control my daughter, but I cannot do both,” your father says, “she’s not a child anymore, she can make her own choices.”
That earns a small smirk from you. Leave it to him to stand up for you.
“That is exactly why this is so grievous,” the man says, “my son will not marry an old maid with an attitude problem!”
“And I will not have in-laws as insufferable as you!” You bring your knife down on the table, narrowly missing his fingers. This little outburst of yours at dinner will certainly have consequences. Your mother’s wrath is only the beginning.
They don't leave in nearly as big of a hurry as you’d expect from a man who was just threatened with a knife, but they do hurry out, making certain not to look back.
“Maybe we should have offered to let them stay,” says your father, “it’s not safe to be out on the road after dark.”
“We’re lucky to not have them send guards after us for that,” your mother says, and for once, you agree with her. “Threatening a man like that is a new low, even for you.”
After such a disastrous dinner, you’re not particularly eager to go find your parents. You linger towards the outskirts of your village for as long as daylight allows you to. Once it grows too dark to stay out, you begin the trek back to your home, praying your parents—or at least your mother—have simply gone to bed. Maybe your father will forgive such a night, but your mother certainly won't. Over the past year you’ve done enough to earn her ire, this will not help your case.
Sitting outside is your mother, her eyes trained on a dying fire. Although she doesn't acknowledge you, you know she’s noticed you. Part of you wonders if you should speak first. Would that even improve your situation, or simply make it worse?
“You win.” She says. 
“What?” You ask.
“You win. I told you I’d stop after this, remember?” She asks. “Besides, I stopped liking him after that comment he made about your father.”
You still don't believe it's over. No tone of accusation clings to her voice, yet you can't help being suspicious.
“I don't get it.” You say.
“I just want what's best for you.” She says. “I want you to live a long and happy life. Are you really content to spend the rest of your life in this village? Stuck taking care of your brother and father?”
“That sounds like the preferable outcome,” you say, “compared to having in-laws I can't stand.”
“Where does he get off calling you an old maid anyway?” She says.
A small smile crosses your lips. This is about the best she'll get, and she knows this, a grin crossing her own face. A moment that should be one of triumph—at least for you—seems to be more sorrowful. The older you grow, the further apart you drift from her, and with that comes a strange, aching loneliness. You long for a time in your youth; the days when she would play dolls with you in-between house chores. You miss the tiny clothes she’d sew for them. The furniture made of timber scraps she’d hand paint. Oh how long has it been since she last braided your hair? Or brushed it? Or helped you wash it? 
Did she have these same feelings about her own mother? Or was it easy for her? Does she too mourn those moments you used to share?
You don't remember her always looking this old. That’s not to say she isn't beautiful still—age does not nullify beauty. But she looks tired now. The dark circles under her eyes are more prominent than ever. The skin around her eyes crinkles when she laughs, or smiles. Her hair is littered with grays—like little silver threads. She looks like you.
From within the nearly pitch-black woods comes a scream; not that of an animal, but of man. When the scream rings out again, it’s much easier to understand. It’s a cry for help.
Emerging out of the treeline, and following the main road is a man, half hunched over and clutching his stomach. He makes it several yards into the village before collapsing. Enough blood pours from the wound on his side that you can smell it. A metallic taste lingers in the air, stuck to the back of your throat. Blood. 
You’re the first to run over, followed shortly behind by your mother. The injured, shambling figure collapses upon the road. It’s only as you draw closer that you recognize him, albeit barely: the man from dinner. His clothes at one point in time were yellow in color, but are now stained a deep brown in color from a mix of dirt and blood.
“We need a doctor over here!” Mother cries out, her voice echoing against the wall of trees.
Someone must hear, because eventually a group of men burst out of a nearby house. They make quick work of rolling him onto his back, granting you a better look at his wounds. Three long slashes across his stomach. From your mother comes a gasp, followed by her clamping her hand over her mouth. The young man succumbs to his wounds before anyone is able to help him. He’s lost too much blood. People don't come back from that.
“Was he stabbed?” One man asks.
“Looks like knife marks,” comments another.
“Not a knife,” the oldest of the three says, “claws.”
“Do you think a mountain lion got to him?” You ask.
The oldest of the men shakes his head. “Cats like that don't get this close to towns. They avoid people if they can. A bear, maybe; if he got in between a mother and cub. But even that seems unlikely…”
This is why you don't go into the woods after dark. This is why you lock your doors and close your shutters tight when the sun sets. Bad things lurk out there, but they are not bears, nor are they mountain lions.
Something about the height of a person bursts from the treeline. Atop the legs of a chicken is a head only humanesque in the way corpses are. Sunken eyes sit atop a shriveled nose, and cracked lips. Its skin seems to be hanging off bone. Still, it takes you a moment to register that it’s fear you feel. Your palms prickle with sweat, the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. The urge to flee is nearly unbearable.
More of these creatures emerge from the direction of the nearly-set sun. They appear to come in all sorts of horrid shapes, and sizes, the smallest being no larger than a bird, and the largest about the size of a cow. Fear threatens to overcome you entirely. At least twenty of the creatures leave the treeline, although you suspect more remain hidden within it. The temperature must drop by ten degrees. It’s as if all the moisture has been sucked from the air. Those who dared leave their homes to look at the source of the commotion have now retreated, locking their doors behind them. 
The collar of your dress jerks backwards as your mother struggles to drag you back towards the house. “Get your father!” She says. “Hurry!” 
“What about you?!” You ask.
“Just get your father,” she says.
And you do so, running as fast as your feet will take you. The chilly night air renders your fingertips numb, and your face burning. He’s asleep in his chair, and wakes with a gasp as you shake him, motioning frantically to the door. The words that leave you are incoherent, but he must understand your panic. He retrieves his sword, telling you to lock the door behind him. You don't listen. You never listen, you can hear your mother say now. A sudden burst of light draws your attention—a nearby house has caught fire. Those strange, horrid creatures swarm around it like flies. Several neighbors have exited their houses, and begun throwing buckets of water upon the blaze, but the fire is too strong.
And from the treeline emerges that man from the woods all those years ago. 
In five years time, he has not aged a day. His cruelly sharp features appear the same within the flicker of the firelight. They fall before him on their hands and knees, heads bowed in fear. You only realize you’re shaking when you move closer to the window, peeking out through the crack in the shutters. 
The King of Curses, he called himself, all those years ago.
His mouth moves as if he's speaking, but you can only make out about half of what he says. The ringing in your ears is too loud to make sense of much.
“My offerings lessen, my shrine lies defiled,” he says, “and you humans sit here complacent. I gave you five years to make amends and this is what you do with it?”
You know, logically, that your father is going to die. He is no match for the creatures, let alone that strange man. You must do something. Even if it is beyond logic, or reason, you would not forgive yourself if you did not act.
“Then what is it you require of us?” Asks father, his hands trembling slightly. You can tell it’s more than just the dancing light of the fire. He is truly frightened.
“An offering,” says the King of Curses. “A sacrifice.”
“We have nothing to offer,” says father, “the river has run dry of fish—our crops have withered! We have nothing to offer, we’re starving regardless!”
The King of Curses eyes drift to your hiding place, before landing back on your father. “You said it yourself.” He says. “You’ll starve regardless. What difference does it make that you should give up one of your own? Won't there only be less mouths to feed?”
Your arrows rattle loudly as you pull one from your quiver, knocking it. From this angle, and sitting half crouched on the ground, you can't bring it to a full draw. Not only does that mess with your aim, but alter the power of the shot too. That can be accounted for. You adjust your angle to be a little higher—right above his head. When you release the string, the arrow gives way with a thunk! The shot is dead on; your arrow whistling towards the demon king’s head. He brings his spear up, knocking it aside. Several heads whip back towards you, their faces contorted in a mix of anger, and fear. 
You’re not quite sure who grabs you first—it must be more than one person. Several sets of hands are upon you, dragging you from the house. Any attempts to fight it fail on your part, there are simply too many people to kick off. They drop you in the dirt beside your father. You don't dare look at him. You know his eyes are filled with fear. 
“We’ll—we’ll put it to a vote,” says one of the elders. “All those in favor of sending this woman as an offering…”
Two other elders raise their hands. Then several of the men. Then, reluctantly, the mother of a neighboring family. Even more hands pop up after that. Although maybe a minute passes, it feels like hours. At least a dozen sets of eyes are on you.
“Out of all of you,” the demon king says, eyes following across the crowd that’s now gathered, “she was the only one of you to fight back, yet you punish such an action?”
Silence is the only response the crowd can conjure up. A groan so loud that the ground rumbles beneath it rings out as the house gives way, collapsing in on itself in a rain of ash and embers.
“Wait!” Your father cries out, “let me go in her place!”
Several more incomprehensible sentence fragments leave him. He pleads and pleads to no avail. The last view you get of your village is of the spirits retreating back into the woods.
It must be hours before your state of shock wears off. Dawn breaks bleak and gray over the horizon. The temple he brings you lies in ruin. You must be one of the first people to set foot in here in years. A cracked foundation gives way to walls overtaken by vines. Dust and ash layers the ground, and every surface imaginable.
Sukuna must not expect you to try to run. Nothing is done to prevent you from escaping. There are no doors to lock. No ropes or cages. The only real barrier of escape is the trek home through miles of woods. Should you wait until sunrise, the trip won't be impossible. It is the fear of what remains for you that prevents you from returning.
Would there even be anything to go back to? Is it even worth it after what they did? They did not hesitate as they offered you as a sacrifice. Whatever happens to them… they have it coming.
Such thoughts do little to comfort you. If anything, they make you feel worse. What little strength you have left goes into stopping the tears that threaten to spill down your cheeks. You manage. Barely.
Unable to find it within you to do anything else, you sit. Only a thin, woven mat separates you and the hard floor. Footsteps draw closer down the hall, the noise only amplified by the high ceilings of the temple.
Uraume. That’s what Sukuna called them. A strange being that looks human, but appears to be more than such. They enter the room, a shock a white hair visible before the rest of them is. They wear the kimono of an unmarried woman, in vibrant shades of orange, blues, and pinks woven in the pattern of flowers. Hooked around one arm is a pail of water. Under the other arm is a roll of cloth. Contained within the cloth is a mix of hygiene supplies; a sponge, comb, various vials of oils and creams. 
Uraume treats you like one would treat a frightened animal. They kneel on the ground before you, leaving about the distance of a foot. When you don't flinch, or shy away, they move closer.
“You’re covered in ash,” they say, “let me help.”
With the sponge, they dab away the bits of dirt and ash that have caked to your skin. Human contact like this should, in theory, be intimate, but in this situation it feels like anything but that. Uraume’s touch feels cold, and clinical. With them comes a strange, uncanny feeling, like you are not looking into the eyes of a human, but of a corpse. The reason behind their kindness is a mystery to you. It feels wrong to question them, but you can't help but think there is something sinister behind their actions. Their casualness suggests this isn't the first time they’ve done this. That thought does nothing to comfort you, so you quickly push it aside.
Next, they move on to your neck, then down to the exposed bits of your chest, and shoulders. 
“Such a beautiful dress,” they comment. You reply weakly, saying it belonged to your mother. Their response to that is little more than a hum.
They take your hands, scrubbing the dirt from under your nails with a small brush. After that, a comb is worked through your hair, taking great care to not pull on any knots that have formed. Once they can work their hands through your hair with no resistance, they stop.
Uraume leans back to examine their work, deeming you presentable. Gathering what they brought with them, they make their way towards the door, turning back once to say: “I’ll bring something to eat.”
The events of the night have left you without an appetite. You probably should eat something. It’ll be important to keep your energy up. The little adrenaline left within you has you jumping at any small noise, or shadow. Sleep feels like an impossibility right now.
About ten minutes pass before Uraume returns carrying a platter. Tea, pickled vegetables, a hunk of bread, a bowl of some kind of stew. It smells quite good, but you merely pick at it. Like your hesitation to sleep, you can hardly eat. Uraume sits with you, picking at their own food, but never finishing it. A million questions race through your mind, although you can barely bring yourself to ask them.
Would they even answer you? Or does this have a more sinister plan behind it?
Finally, you find enough of your voice to ask: “Where is…?”
“I’ve prepared a bath for master Sukuna,” they say, “he’ll be joining us shortly.”
Your attention turns back to the bowl in your hands, which soon slips through your fingers, breaking upon the floor. What little appetite you had is soured entirely. This is it. You’re nearly certain you’re going to die here.
Your attempt to clean up the mess is stopped by Uraume. They insist upon cleaning it themselves, taking great care not to cut their hands on the shards.
“Why are you helping me?” You ask, shocked at how small your voice sounds.
“Master Sukuna likes to play with his food before he eats it,” they say.
Uraume leaves shortly after, taking the leftover dishes with them. You remain seated, eyes moving between the two exits of the room. One takes you to the entrance of the temple; you’re not certain where the other leads. The first is almost guaranteed to be guarded, though. Trying to run now is a bad idea. But when will you get another chance?
You will not sit idly by as death draws closer. Like the previous night, you feel as if you must do something. It was your own foolish actions that got you into this mess, says a small voice in the back of your head.
Trapped under your heel is a small pottery shard, left over from the shattered bowl. It’s small enough to conceal in your palm. Sharp. Better for stabbing than it is slashing, but it will be good enough at either. Once Sukuna returns, you’ll get your chance.
The rush of adrenaline has started to wear off now, rendering your arms weak, and your legs shaky. If you were to sit down now, you’re certain it would be a while before you get back up. It is the body fighting itself; fight or flight mode mixing with exhaustion. If you do not stop and rest, your body will give out on you eventually.
So you stand there and pace, clutching your shard of pottery close. Maybe thirty minutes pass in the time it takes Sukuna to enter, but it feels like hours. Adrenaline turns into fatigue.
Tears burn at your eyes again, but you’re able to blink them back. A mix of shock and betrayal has left you nothing short of exhausted. Sukuna’s towering stature only helps to make you feel like a lamb about to be devoured by a wolf.
“I trust Uraume has been of assistance,” Sukuna says. 
Unsure of how to respond, you simply nod.
“What now?” You ask. “Is this the part where you’re supposed to eat me?”
That earns a laugh from him, although it’s strange sounding, as if the very action is foreign to him.
“Many decades ago, the people of your village—among others—would hold a festival during harvest season,” he says, “it was meant as a sign of peace. An offering in return to not raze their homes,
“The people of your village have grown laze, and complacent. They have forgotten their place as humans, and needed to be reminded of it. You are simply another offering. Something to tide me over.”
Sukuna draws close enough for you to feel his breath across the back of your neck. You shudder. Adrenaline courses through you once again.
This is it, you think, you are going to die. 
In one last attempt to preserve your dignity, you aim for his jugular, and swing the shard of pottery towards it. A hand wraps around your wrist before it can make contact. A second set of arms are trapping you against his body before you can even register it. His breath is warm against your cheek, teeth inhumanly sharp in the dim light.
“You are entertainment.” He says. 
That same set of sharp teeth drag up your neck. Some sick sense of pleasure runs up your spine at the feeling: being a little lamb in the jaws of a predator. It would take so little effort from him to render you lifeless that it’s almost comical. Adrenaline turns to delirium in your mind. 
What happens if he finally grows bored of you? It’s not a matter of “if” in this case, it’s a matter of “when”. You have an idea of what will happen once he does.
You don't hear him leave, so much as you notice his lack of presence.
Sukuna is gone for most of the following day. In that time, you explore much of the temple in an attempt to gain your bearings. It’s sparsely furnished, and dilapidated for the most part, but there are some signs of life. On a lower level of the temple is a bedroom, where the bed alone is as big as a room in your home. Must be Sukuna’s. Another, smaller room appears to be Uraume’s quarters. A small kitchen branches off the hallway not far from this. 
The later half of the day is spent trying to familiarize yourself with your surroundings. Thick woods surround the structure, spreading out for what must be miles. To the North is a creek. If you followed it, you might possibly meet up with the river by your village. Whether you could do so before nightfall is another question entirely. Finding yourself stuck in unfamiliar woods past dark may prove to be a death sentence.
Even if you could go back, would you want to? Their lack of hesitation towards sacrificing you still rings clear in your mind.
Sleep seems to be the best way to pass the time. There isn't much else to do around here. In the hours before dusk, you manage to drag yourself out of bed, and into the woods that surround the temple. You justify it by saying that fresh air will do you good, not that anyone asks you. The only person around to do so would be Uraume, though you don't see much of them.
Heavy fog settles upon the trees, causing the day to take on a quiet, sleepy nature. Little cream-colored mushrooms pop up through the layer of moss and dead leaves that blanket the forest floor. Carved out over years of use is a dirt path, barely wide enough for a person to walk through. Following it for about ten minutes brings you to a pond. At one end, the start of a small creek leads downhill. Little fish are visible just under the surface. Leaving your socks and shoes at the shore, you wade out into the water. It’s cool, but not chilly. The mud feels soft underneath your feet. Being outside helps settle your nerves a bit. Outright terror is replaced with uneasiness now. While not entirely better, it’s an improvement to your previous mood.
From the treeline opposite of the path you took, a figure enters the clearing. Sukuna. Adrenaline spikes through your body at the sight of him. Your pulse quickens, and fear prickles in your palms. Every cell of your being is telling you to run.
Sukuna motions with his hand for you to follow him. It is not an offer, so much as it’s a command. Following a short walk on a stoney path, you find yourself overlooking a rock cliff-face, and a small wood hut. Scattered about are several steaming pools, which bubble up from the ground, layering upon the cliff-face like stairs.
Sukuna undressed at the wood hut, leaving his clothes hanging upon the rafters. Your gaze remains firmly on the ground. You should not be seeing him like this. This feels far too intimate. You try not to let your gaze linger too long, but can't help it. The sight of his back alone is hard to tear your eyes away from; the muscles, the tattoos, the curve of his spine. There is a strange, supernatural beauty to him. You eye him with caution, yet curiosity. 
Why has he brought you here? What does he want? Is this simply a ritual before he eats you?
Certainly, if you were to scream, no one would be nearby to hear you. 
It strikes you just how easily his teeth could tear through your jugular. How his sharp nails could shred your flesh to ribbons. Sukuna is far faster and stronger than you, outrunning him is not an option.
Following his lead, you undress, and leave your clothes folded neatly upon a rock. Next comes the task of taking down your hair, and combing through it with your fingers, finding it still knot-free from the events of the previous night. Only then do you approach the largest of the three pools, and wade into it. At its deepest, it's a little above your waist. You could walk all the way across and never once have your feet leave the ground.
You settle upon a rock towards the edge, half submerged in the pool. The hot water feels nice upon your sore muscles. Your eyes trail ribbons of steam as they curl off the water. A wave of self consciousness rolls over you. You sink further into the water, crossing your arms in front of your chest. It’s up to your chin now. Sometime during this, it starts raining. The droplets leave little ripples across the surface of the water. Fall brings the smell of damp earth, and decaying leaves with it. Something that should be comforting only makes your stomach turn.
“You look frightened, little lamb,” Sukuna says.
Is it so obvious? 
“I still don't believe this isn't some attempt to eat me.” You ask, though you’re not certain you want the answer.
“Had I wanted to eat you, I would have had Uraume make preparations.” He says.
You still don't believe him. How many people met their fate at his hands before you? There is no reason why you would be lucky—why you would escape your fate.
“Then what is it you want from me?” You ask.
His expression softens, shoulders lowering with a sigh. The space between his eyebrows is not so harshly creased anymore. 
“I am not like the typical curses you have met,” Sukuna says, “I require your permission.” 
“Permission for what?” You shrink back as he draws closer, stopping mere inches from you. He’d tower over the tallest man, let alone someone like you.
A kiss. Hungry, and overbearing, but a kiss nonetheless. Sukuna has to lean down, and you have to crane your neck up to complete the action. His movements feel stiff, clinical, as if he hasn't done this many times before. The action causes warmth to bloom in your chest, and spread out to your limbs. The hands that cup your face are nearly large enough to encompass it entirely. He tastes like wine, and something vaguely metallic. The thought that it might be blood crosses your mind for only a moment. You’d much rather think about other things. 
“Will you devote yourself to me, completely and entirely?” He asks.
Funny, you think, had a human man asked you the same thing, you would have laughed in his face. Yet you find yourself bewitched by the King of Curses. Curious, and cautious all the same. This is not a feeling of love. It is something else entirely. You are a sacrifice, you remind yourself, this is the fate of a sacrifice.
“I devote myself to no man,” you say, “I don't see how you'd be any different.”
He hums in amusement, circling around you in the water. He stops behind you, slightly to your right. Sharp teeth graze across your shoulder. Large hands trace their way up your hips, then your body, coming to rest just below your breasts. You squeeze your thighs together in an attempt to relieve the strange pressure that has built up. Your heart rate picks up in pace. Sukuna must be able to sense this. A low laugh leaves him as he pulls away.
“Well then,” he says, “do I have your permission to continue?”
Continue what? You wish to ask. As if against your mind’s wishes, your head moves in a nod. “Yes,” you say.
You can only imagine the look on his face as you have your back to him. He’s close enough you can feel the warmth radiate off his body. Is he pleased? Amused? Smug that all it took was a kiss to make you let your guard down? 
Hands that should be calloused and rough are quite gentle with their touch. One comes to rest upon your hip, before trailing down to the space between your thighs. Seconds in and your knees seem to give out, your body supported only by him. One finger presses into you, then a second. You sigh at the intrusion. There’s little resistance as he presses into you. You’re too wet. Sukuna’s fingers are much larger than your own, though the stretch you feel is pleasant, not painful. Your thighs squeeze around his hand, drawing a low laugh from him. You can feel it rumble within his chest, which your back is pressed flush to.
Being so close to another being feels odd. The only intimacy you know is a platonic one. A familial one. This is different. Stronger. More intense. He finds the spot that makes you squirm and abuses it, toying with you like prey. It must be a game to him, you think, like cat and mouse. With one of your hands over your mouth, you try to muffle the lewd noises that spill from you. It’s a losing battle. All sorts of pleased sounding noises—from both you and him—echo through the clearing. Secretly, you’re glad this place is so remote. Should someone hear the lewd noises you’re making, you wouldn't recover from the embarrassment. He brings you just to the edge, but refuses to let you cross over. Frustration turns to desperation as you grind against him, chasing your own release. Sukuna doesn't appear opposed to your actions. He lets you work yourself up to—and through—your own release, the noises you make growing gradually more obscene until they come to a head in the form of an orgasm.
You remain in the water for a while afterwards. The layer of fog overhead makes the day take on a lazy, sleepy nature. His hands comb through your hair as you lay against his chest. Such a moment feels uncharacteristically tender for him. While you expect them to be sharp, his nails feel nice against your skin. The mouth on his stomach resembles a smirk, although the expression on his face is flat. Unreadable. A slight pang of disappointment shoots through you. You know it’s unreasonable of you to expect humanity from someone inherently inhuman. He does not—he can not—process things the way you do. Humans must appear so small and fragile to him.
You’re uncertain of how much time passes as you lay there, your limbs tangled with his. It doesn't feel like long enough. No time would feel long enough. You crave the touch of another being whether you want to admit that or not.
“It’s getting late,” he comments. Without another word, you watch as Sukuna dresses himself, and leaves.
You follow him as quickly as you can. You’re not quite fast enough, arriving back at the temple long after him. Dusk follows soon after. 
You find no sign of the King of Curses upon your return. Finding yourself with not much of an appetite, you head straight to bed. Uraume stops by once to offer tea, but you decline, insisting you’re tired, and just wish to sleep. Whether or not they believe you, you can't tell. That’s about the extent of every conversation you have; polite, but short.
Sukuna must not need to sleep. Not in the same way you do. You dress down into your underclothes, leaving the rest folded neatly upon a chair. They’re not dirty, just slightly wrinkled from the events of today. You crawl into the bed much larger than you, and attempt to sleep. When he crawls into the bed beside you, you do nothing to protest.
As time passes, you grow used to his presence. Falling into a routine takes mere days. In that time, you don't see much of Sukuna, or Uraume. Maybe it’s for the best. You’re not certain what you’d say to either of them. You figure it best not to question what Sukuna gets up to in his free time. If the events at your village are anything similar, you figure it best to pay them no mind.
The longer you spend here, the more curious you find yourself. At least twice you find your way back to the hot springs. Familiarizing yourself with the surrounding woods has you growing more confident when navigating it. Animal tracks and trails reveal themselves, bringing more life to the woods. 
Fall turns to winter. Rain gives way to snow, bringing in a bitter stormfront. It’s hard to tell how many days pass as the storm hits, rendering the three of you confined to the temple. Sukuna doesn't appear bothered at all by the cold, but you spend many bleak nights huddled by a fire. Sukuna approaches you on one of these nights; perhaps the bleakest and darkest one before the storm finally breaks. Your inability to leave the temple has you ready to claw out of your own skin. Never were you one to stay in one place very long. 
Days have passed and you haven't spoken much to one another. Not since the day at the hot springs. You find yourself especially longing for them on a day like this, where the cold makes your joints ache, and your lips cracked. Winter is among your least favorite of the seasons. A hot and sticky summer day was always preferred over a day like this. Sukuna must sense it. He finds you curled by the fire, wrapped in an assortment of quilts and fabrics. You can't tell if it’s morning, or evening. Snow has rendered midday as dark as dusk. 
You know you should get up, and toss more wood onto the fire. Should you let it die any further, it’s unlikely you’ll get it started again. Sukuna joins you in the room, sitting on the mat to your left. Finding yourself searching for warmth, you move closer to him. It’s an unconscious action at first. Once you recognize it, you can't find the willpower within you to stop.
You offer the edge of the blanket to him, basking in his warmth as the quilt is wrapped around both of you. One of his hands comes to rest upon your knee. Your gaze is trained on his face, while his remains on the dying fire. 
“I don't suppose you do this to every sacrifice you get,” you say, not expecting an answer.
The corners of his lips twitch into something that resembles a smile. Much life his laugh, his smile is stiff, and rather foreign feeling. Like he hasn't done such a thing in centuries.
“You are different from the sacrifices I have received in the past.” He says. 
You get the impression he is still figuring out what to do with you. Such a thought doesn't inspire confidence on your part, though you assume your situation could be worse. 
You're nearly in his lap now. The hand on your knee soon moves upwards onto your thigh. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch as he palms himself through his clothes. Some sick part of you wishes to taunt him. To tease him in the same way he has done to you. You part your legs just enough to encourage him. There must be something wrong with you, you think, no normal woman would enjoy the company of the King of Curses.
This is not your typical virgin sacrifice. It is little more than that. Pleasure for the sake of pleasure. To fuck without the intent to procreate.
“I always assumed you wouldn’t have these… urges.” You say.
“Many things lost their potency,” he says. “Food was never enough to satiate, drink was never enough to quench thirst. Sex has remained the same. Primal pleasure never loses its potency.”
So he was human. At least at one point in time…
“Like I said,” he hums, “I am not like the typical curses you have met. I require your permission.”
“You have it,” you say. 
Oh how dearly you wish to recreate the event at the hot springs. To feel the same build-up of emotions, and the following release. Such mindless pleasure has remained in your head, unable to be stifled by your own hands.
Off comes your kimono, guided down your shoulders by his hand. Your nipples stiffen when exposed to the open air. It is not the cold that has you shivering, but the expectation of what’s to come. His size, and calloused hands suggest his touch would be harsh, but you find to be the opposite. Sharp nails graze down your sides as he moves to kneel before you. You prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him.
His own clothes are left among the growing pile on the floor. He pumps his stiffening cock in his hand, the head of which weeps across his palm. A different kind of heat blooms in your stomach.
 Sharp teeth graze across your jaw, down your neck, before eventually nipping at your shoulder. A sting both painful and pleasurable radiates from the bite. Blood beads from the two points where he managed to break the skin, quickly lapped away by him. Part of your brain is telling you to push him away. The other part is telling you to expose your neck further. You’re not certain which to listen to as you lay under him, caged within his arms. Your breaths grow ragged, turning into quiet moans as his knee nudges your legs apart. This is different from the day at the hot springs. Sukuna is seeking something more—he is seeking his own pleasure this time.
A hand finds its way into your hair, gently tugging at it. Guided by his hand, you expose your neck further to him. He laps at the droplets of blood that form, sucking dark marks into the skin of your neck. Pain and pleasure overlap in your mind. Your thighs are a mess of your own slick, and the precum that leaks from the heads of his two cocks. It’s almost comical how you work yourself up in knots at only the slightest provocation by him.
You taste yourself on him as he kisses you. The bleeding from your neck has mostly stopped now. What remains will barely leave a scar. His lips trail down your neck, through the valley between your breasts, and down your stomach, before eventually stopping just shy of your cunt. The look of him alone has you growing as wet as a virgin; his hair disheveled from your hands running through it, the muscles in his shoulders appear more prominent now. His arms hook around your thighs, although he doesn't need to bother holding your legs open. You’d do it without prompt by him. Eager for your own release, and worked up into a soaked mess, you’d do anything to please him.
You shouldn't be enjoying it as much as you are. You know you should be afraid. It would take no effort from him at all to tear through your femoral artery, and let you bleed out. You would be helpless in the matter anyway; you’re nothing more than a little lamb trapped under a big bad wolf.
The feeling of his tongue is strange. With him on his knees, bowed in what resembles worship, has your stomach in knots. The lewdness of it all has you more worked up than anything else. A strange, pleasurable tension builds within you. He is not toying with you this time, but working you over. When you do finally cum, you cum hard, riding out your high on his face. The noises he’s making suggest he’s enjoying this almost more than you do.
He must be painfully hard now. The head of his cock is an angry shade of red, and leaking precum. Using his hand to guide him, the head of his cock presses into you. You’re too wet from his previous actions to notice much of a stretch. What little pain there is crosses over with pleasure in your mind. He groans as he sheathes himself within you fully. His expression softens just enough for you to take in the features of his face. He’s quite handsome now that you’re close enough to appreciate his looks. It makes you wonder what his life as a human was like. Was he royalty, or a commoner? What was his job? Did he ever have family?
You won't get an answer out of him no matter how hard you try. This is the most human the king of curses will ever appear. 
His thrusts are slow at first. Lazy. More like grinding, not proper fucking. With as sensitive as you still are, this doesn't make much of a difference. You’re still a writhing, moaning mess beneath him. Judging by the noises he’s making, he’s not far from cumming himself. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, and that seems to only encourage him. The muscles in his arms and shoulders gradually grow more tense before he shudders, then visibly relaxes. A warm sensation in your cunt follows soon after; he’s cum inside of you.
You lay like that for a while: limbs entwined, bodies curled around each other. He lets himself soften inside of you until the desire to pull out hits. You can tell your hips will be sore in the morning—whenever it decides to come. What little of his seed spills out of you is forced back in by his fingers. You assume it ties into his possessive nature. It must be a way of marking you as his. The fire has long since died out, though you find the warmth from his body adequate enough. 
“I don't think I can walk,” you lie, “carry me?”
Sukuna feigns annoyance, but relents, carrying you to the bed too large for any human. You quickly find your way under the covers. He finds himself in the space beside you. Fatigue hits you soon after, yet you find yourself unable to sleep.
“You were human once?” You ask.
The mood in the room seems to shift entirely. Sukuna is not one for conversation. You expected no different from a man like him. He looks at you with mild annoyance, as if deciding on his answer.
“I was. Once.” He says.
Your fingers trace across the tattoos on his wrist. “Do you miss it?” You ask. “Being human, I mean.”
“I am far stronger now than I was when I was a human.” He says. “I no longer need to eat, nor drink. I have the gift of eternal life so long as I am smart with my actions. I do not miss the fragility that comes with humanity.”
His words almost irritate you. So much more exists to humanity than what he says, from little things like sharing a summer even with a friend, tearing into ripe persimmons. Spending an evening hunched over a stew pot helping your mother. Kisses shared between a lover in the woods, or out in the fields. Stories exchanged by firelight. Intricately woven fabrics and paintings that might as well be indistinguishable from real life. So many beautiful things exist within humanity. Maybe he’s been away from it so long he’s forgotten the extent of it.
Would the King of Curses even admit he’s lonely? Or would he be too prideful to admit such a thing?
“You're sad. Why?” He questions.
“Was just thinking about my mother. That's all.” You say. “She wanted me to get married before I…”
You’re mad at her. More mad than you’ve been at anyone in your life. Yet you wish for nothing more than her comfort in this moment. A wound exists that time won't heal. Anger is not productive in fixing it. Anger only makes it worse.
This time, you are the one to initiate the kiss. You wish for it to distract you, but it only amplifies the ache in your chest.
“If you were to lose what little fight you had left in you, then this would no longer be fun,” he says.
You grow used to the ever-present shadow that is Sukuna, talking to the space beside you as if he is there because hell, sometimes he is. He is more than a mere man. He exists on a level different from you or anyone else. Your existence at this temple feels less like confinement and more like living. 
“Will you join me?” He asks one day by the river. 
The two of you sit upon the riverbank, watching as the water swirls below you. Spring snowmelt, combined with a recent storm, has stirred up the river bottom, turning the water murky. What was meant to be a fishing trip has proved unsuccessful.
“I would be lying if I said I haven't grown used to your presence.” He says.
“Don't be getting soft on me,” you say, half joking.
The most emotion you get out of him is an amused sounding huff. 
“I want you to join me,” he says, “not in life as human, but in eternity as a curse.”
“I will,” you say. 
No thought is needed for your answer, nor is there any hesitation on your part. Sukuna simply nods. That is what love is to him. Devotion. Worship. Throwing away your humanity means nothing if humanity is so quick to reject you. 
Gifts begin appearing around the temple after that. Priceless jewelry, and expensive dresses. Hair pins and cosmetics. Seasons pass in what feels like no time at all. Before you know it, your third fall here is quickly approaching. Winter comes and goes—uncharacteristically bitter this year. Spring brings a sense of rebirth. The ground thaws slowly, and plant life is in full bloom. Animal life returns to the surrounding woods, showing signs in every trail around the temple.
A hunting trip brings you further out into the woods than you’ve traveled before. You don't realize you’re nearing a human settlement until you’ve stumbled upon it.
The village has changed drastically in the time you were gone, so much so that you almost don't recognize it. A full blown mill has sprouted up along the river. At least twice as many houses stand now. Years ago this street was little more than a dirt path. Sometime over the years it has been paved over with river stones. Children play in the streets. Men walk home with pails of fish slung over their shoulders. These strangers notice you and pause, returning to their homes quickly. 
Your house remains mostly the same. Age has not been kind to it. One corner of the roof sags, and the wood trim has grown bleached with time. The path up to the front steps is overgrown. Sitting outside, hunched over a wash bin, is your mother.
Her hair is mostly gray now. Wrinkles mark her skin, and her joints are knobby, but you would still consider her beautiful. The face of the woman she once was is still there. The clothes she wears are of rich fabrics, suggesting your family has not hurt for money. Her sturdy figure suggests they never lacked food either.
When she sees you, her eyes grow wet with tears. And it’s as if the weight of the world has lifted off your shoulders. You want to be angry at her. You want to unload years of anger upon her. You want her to feel just a fraction of the fear you've felt. But you can't bring yourself to do it. The look in her eyes tells you she’s felt all the emotions you have.
Her movements are laced with hesitation, as if she’s deciding whether or not you're real. One of her wrinkled hands takes yours. 
“I love you,” she says, “and I am so sorry.”
“I know,” you say.
She invites you in for tea, setting the table up with the nice dishware—the kind she only uses for guests. The interior of the house hasn't changed much. Your room is eerily the same, as if it hasn't been touched since the day you left. Your father’s boots, and hunting coat remain by the door, although they look as if they haven't been moved in years. Makes sense, you think, hunting is a task that grows difficult as you get older. There comes a time in every hunter’s life where they grow old, and it becomes their turn to stay home and tend the fire.
“Where's…?” You never get the chance to finish your question, the solemn look on your mother’s face is enough of an answer.
“He passed,” she says, pausing to think, “two springs ago now? Maybe three.”
Believing you would never see them again, you grieved your parents long ago.This particular grief is like an old wound to you.
“The village looks prosperous,” you comment. A bitter tone clings to your voice.
“Yes,” she says, “the past years have been kind to us. I suppose we have you to thank for that?”
She sits across from you, her eyes still wet with tears. It feels like you are holding a conversation with a stranger. Your mother regards you with a certain weariness she only reserves for strangers. Maybe it would hurt more if you had more room within you for grief.
“He never stopped looking for you, you know,” she says, setting a cup of tea in front of you. “Even after the village held a funeral for you. He never wanted to believe it. Until the day he died, he was out in the woods thinking he could bring you home.”
“I was under the impression I wasn't wanted here.” You say.
“You know that’s not true,” she says. “What happened that night was a result of fear. The elders did what they thought would preserve the safety of everyone.”
“Except for me.” You say.
Fear. Right. To them, you were simply a sacrifice. You drain the last of your tea, standing from the table. Your mother stands as if to stop you, but freezes before she can.
“Does he treat you well?” She asks.
“Yes,” you say.
“Better than any human man?”
“Yes,” you answer, although you can tell she doesn't believe it. 
“Do you love him?” She asks. “Does he love you?”
“I suppose so.” You say. “As much as he is capable of loving something.”
“But do you love him?” She asks again.
“As much as I am capable of doing so, yes.” You answer.
It is not the answer she wants, but the one that is the truth. With her hands folded in her lap, she nods solemnly.
That following night you leave your village not as a human, but as a curse. 
Enough time would pass that the story of a young sacrifice would be forgotten by its people; what would remain, is a tale of a love so infamous that it survived centuries.
565 notes · View notes
wordstome · 6 months
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kingdom come - i
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king König x princess & assassin reader
2nd person, no y/n, she/her pronouns, afab reader, romance, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, kind of age gap because König has been king for a good chunk of time but it's not really much of a factor, fantasy/medieval setting, magic exists but it's the creepy kind ordinary people don't fuck with
3.5k words
tw: swearing and König gets a boner. what's new
[NEXT]
GUESS WHO'S BACK ON HER BULLSHIT HAHAAA IT'S MEEE STARTING A NEW SERIES/AU AGAINNNnnnnn. Don't fret, I'm still working on university au! I just started watching The Great (the tv show) and I was like hmm. I should get back to that one idea I had.
p.s. When I mention a "mask" on König, imagine a sort of phantom of the opera, Brahms kinda thing. He isn't always wearing the hood.
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Outside, the bells are tolling. Back home, you’ve only ever heard church bells ringing to rally the troops. But here, in these foreign lands, they ring for a royal wedding.
You're wearing a truly massive dress shaped like a pastry. It's a work of art, to be sure, but it leaves you feeling restrained and vulnerable. You should be wearing armor into war—hard boiled leather and curtains of steel rings, not delicate lace and silken ribbons. You're walking into a battle: you would have liked to be able to bend forward further than thirty degrees.
You're at least glad you don't have to wear a veil—it would have been borderline unbearable if you had your vision restricted on top of everything else. It does mean, however, that you can see him standing at the end of the aisle, waiting for you.
A gigantic man with a soldier's physique, wearing a mask that covers more than half his face. Just the sight of him sends a a chill down your spine.
The officiant’s voice booms out over the assembly, but you don’t hear any of it. The sound washes over you, distant and echoing, as if your head is underwater. Your whole being is on alert as you tilt your face upwards to look at the only part of your soon-to-be-husband that you can see properly: his eyes.
They bore into you as if they're looking straight into your soul. As if they're revealing all of your secrets. For a moment, you feel disarmed, even though you can still feel the calming, solid presence of your trusty dagger against your thigh.
As the officiant finishes the wedding vows, he offers his hand to you, his touch shockingly gentle.
You steel your resolve and stare resolutely back at him as you place your hand in his, and the officials begin to bind them together with velvet cords. You remind yourself who you are, where you are, and what you must do.
You remind yourself that you have to kill him as they tie the final knot.
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The woods are foreboding, home to a darkness that seems infinite and all-consuming. The heavy old trees that surround the palace grounds shut out most sunlight and all moonlight, and sometimes it feels as if the forest itself is a living, conscious thing brimming with a dangerous unknown. It's proven to be an effective line of defense in the past: citizens don’t dare to trespass on the royal grounds as it is, but an extra deterrent never hurt anybody.
Except perhaps enemy soldiers. But they learn their lesson quickly.
To you, however, the woods are comforting. You’ve spent many lonely nights amongst these trees, training until your body was sore all over. These trunks have withstood many a misplaced blow, these exposed roots have been your downfall many a time, and this mossy undergrowth has cushioned your bruises during many a tumble and fall.
Tonight, however, there is no training. No combat, no groans of pain, no thuds against wood or flesh. You are blanketed in quiet, something sorely needed as you contemplate the days to come.
This is it. The task you’ve trained for all your life is here. Every sore joint and pulled muscle, every tear-soaked pillowcase, every scolding in Father’s office has led to this. Sometimes it seemed as if the day would never come, as if years of reading, shooting, riding and sparring would be for naught. Though your breath rattles the leaves around you, you feel as if you’ve been holding your breath ever since Father broke the news. This is happening.
You leave in a few hours, as soon as the sun comes over the horizon. Your maids have already packed your luggage—you had to enlist their help after it became too difficult to pick what to bring and what not to bring. If all went well, you’d be back in this room in a few weeks. But what could you afford to bring? What did you need for your sanity? What minute details of an object could compromise your position?
Luckily, Calliope, your most trusted lady-in-waiting, was able to step in when she found you sitting on your rug, clutching your set of cloth dolls—the only toys you’d ever owned as a child that weren’t made with murder in mind—and suggest you take a breath of fresh air. You don’t know where you’d be without her, honestly. You may be your father’s pride and joy of a perfectly well-rounded monarch and killing machine, but you would never have gotten here without her by your side.
You sigh and lean your head against the thick limb you’re lying on. If you didn’t already know you’d wake up with a complaining spine that would then have to spend days riding a horse, you’d go to sleep right here, right now. The woods are your home, these trees your solace. You’ll miss it terribly, as the only place you can truly avoid all servants, generals, teachers, and parents.
Well. Parent.
But as with all things—Father’s rare good mood, your training days, peacetime—the sweet, silent embrace of the forest can’t last forever.
Reluctantly, you give the tree one last pat and climb down, making the trudge back to your room so you can at least attempt to catch a few winks of sleep.
It takes quite a few days of travel to get to your destination. You arrive in the empire next door's capital city saddle-sore and on edge. This was the snakes’ nest, the heart of the beast.
And yet…people are happy.
The mood in your hometown is far quieter and more grim—your country has been at war with this one for as long as you can remember, and yet the contrast could not be more vast. Back home, people walk directly from place to place, and don’t make eye contact with each other. Here, children play unsupervised, outdoor markets overflow with people, and windows are thrown wide open as neighbors chat.
You don’t know how to feel. The previous king here was a ruthless conqueror, building an empire by invading neighboring countries and forcing their monarchs to yield—or killing them when they were defiant. Your own land had only escaped being absorbed into the empire by employing rigorous military discipline and strict wartime measures. Yet here, in the heart of the empire, you would never be able to tell it was a nation at war.
And now you’re marrying the king’s son. The current king. The one they call König. So little is known about him that his entire existence is shrouded in rumor: that the hood he wears conceals a monstrous, disfigured face, that he plotted his father’s demise, that his first wife died not of childbirth, but was assassinated in quiet due to being unable to provide an heir.
You don’t plan on sticking around long enough to find out if the rumors are true.
To your surprise, your reception by the people feels more curious than hostile. You’d expected a bit of resistance, or at least a few dirty looks, considering you're the princess of the country they've been at war with for years. But whatever König has told them has been far more charitable than you anticipated.
Your arrival at the palace is greeted by a flurry of activity. Your entourage scatters to put affairs in order, but Calliope and a small contingent of guards follows you into the main hall. Not that you need them—but you need to keep up appearances. No one outside your family’s most tight-knit circle knows you can throw a punch, much less have an assassin’s training.
You don’t feel in the least bit prepared to meet your fiancé—and target—face to face fresh off a days-long journey, but you’re ushered into the main hall anyway. It seems your task has already begun whether you like it or not.
“Ah, princess. Welcome to my humble home.” You hear him before you see him, his voice heavy with an accent. There’s something a bit charming about it, you think—before the sight of him shakes some sense back into you.
He’s huge. He towers over even his own palace guard, broad with muscle, and moves with a deadly raw power even in this nonthreatening setting.
When his father still ruled, before the current peacetime, stories of the empire’s prodigal heir on the frontlines served as frightening bedtime story and a terrifying cautionary tale for the nation’s soldiers. A beast in a hood who fought with the strength of ten men.
You stand your ground as he approaches you. The hood, then, is real—although the stories were so consistent about it that it was never really in question, was it? What the stories had left out were his eyes—striking and green, piercing into your soul as he bends to kiss the back of your hand. It’s an odd sensation that sends shivers racing up your spine.
“The pleasure is mine, your majesty,” you respond, a hint of apprehension in your tone. Of course you had been expecting some form of courtly courtesy, but for some reason you hadn’t expected him to be such a…gentleman. A part of you had been expecting some feral animal, needing to be put down.
"I'm sure you must be exhausted from your journey," he says. "I hope you will find your rooms to your liking." Something about his demeanor is almost...bored? As if greeting his future wife is just another task he's obligated to complete.
He doesn't join you for dinner that night, which is odd. The servants inform you that he's taking care of some urgent business. You hope that your dejection is taken as disappointment that you won't have an opportunity to get to know your fiancé. You are, but not the way people may think.
After all, getting to know your target is half the battle.
You're left to your own devices the next day. König, you're informed, won't be available. That urgent business from last night appears to be an ongoing situation.
Fine by you. You could use some time to prepare.
You spend the day wandering the palace, familiarizing yourself with the grounds and plotting an escape route. You're halted on your brisk survey when you stumble upon a...garden?
Unlike the perfectly manicured hedges outside the palace, or the groomed efficiency of the kitchen gardens, this place is small. Quiet. A little overgrown, but clearly taken care of. The grass is long and soft, dappled in sunshine. Flowers burst forward, crowded around trellises spiraling with vines.
Part of you feels like a trespasser in this private little sanctum, but another part of you is set at ease by the idle tranquility of this place. You pause, feeling a pang of homesickness. It reminds you of the forest: wild in its own way, but gentle and welcoming at the same time.
Something at the corner of your vision catches your eye. A bush bursting forward with round, dark little berries.
Nightshade. Deadly nightshade, in fact. What is this doing in this peaceful little garden? You move forward to examine them closer.
"You shouldn't be here."
You whirl around to find König standing behind you. You had been so absorbed by the garden that you hadn't detected his approach.
Your cheeks burn. You've only been here a day, and already you're letting your guard down. This won't do.
"My apologies, your majesty. I got....lost."
You hold your breath as he draws near. His expression is unreadable—not that you can see most of it, anyway. But when you meet his gaze, you can tell he's sizing you up.
"This is quite a long way to wander."
Shit, is he suspicious? Thinking fast, your brain supplies the best answer you can muster.
"Should a future queen not know the palace she is to live in?"
"Mmm. You make a fair point."
Before you can say or do anything further, he's standing right in front of you. "That's nightshade, you know." You can feel him watching you, assessing your reaction. "Not many can recognize it."
"I..." You can't very well tell him that you know what nightshade looks like because you're an expert in deadly poisons. "I had been wondering what they were."
"I see." He leans forward and plucks a berry off the bush, rolling it between his fingers. "Have you ever tasted one?"
Does he know? Is that a threat? You can't read his expression behind that goddamned mask of his. You stare at him, hoping you look dumbfounded instead of panicked.
"No? They're quite sweet, you know." He holds it out to you. "Care to try one?"
"Your Majesty, I—"
"Don't look so nervous." If you had ever thought he looked frightening before, there's something uncanny about the half-smile that he gives you now. "I didn't expect you to say yes." Before you can say or do anything, he pops the berry in his mouth.
You're too stunned to do anything but watch as he chews for a moment and swallows. One berry won't kill him, but you're more concerned about why he's doing this. Is he trying to intimidate you?
"This was my mother's garden." He gestures to the general surroundings. "I spent a lot of time here as a child. Peaceful, isn't it?"
You let out a tiny sigh of relief now that the conversation appears to be moving on. "Yes. Quite."
"It's always been a place to get away. The first time I ate a nightshade berry was right here, when I was six. I was violently sick for weeks." His tone is a little too light for someone describing being poisoned as a child, and it's unnerving.
"That's when I learned to be careful of things that are too sweet. A good lesson to learn, don't you think?" He walks towards you, and you brace yourself for anything.
He stops next to you, you facing one way and him the other. "Take care then, princess. I will see you tomorrow."
You stare resolutely ahead. "Yes."
And hopefully you won't see him for much longer after that.
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Fuck. You forgot about this part.
You had been prepared for this, of course, but you only realize now that you hadn't been mentally prepared. It wasn't until Calliope was helping you undress that you remembered what usually happens between a man and a woman the night of the wedding.
You pace the room, stewing and plotting, getting increasingly antsy before the door swings open and the man himself comes strutting into the bedroom.
"You look like a cornered deer." You hear König shut the door behind him, but you don't turn around.
"I've never done this before." Mentally, you curse yourself for the quaver in your voice.
"Well. Tonight won't be your first."
"What?" You do turn at that, watching him carelessly shed layers all across the room between swigs of his drink.
"I have no interest in bedding you. We do have to sleep in the same room for appearances, though." He plucks a grape from a cluster sitting on a side table and throws it up in the air, catching it with his mouth.
You haven't been in his presence much in the past few days, but each time you have, something about your encounters with him have shaken you up and set you on edge. Somehow, he's kept you on your toes even with a limited presence. Your meeting in the garden was dizzying and confusing, the ceremony set you on high alert. And now, he's thrown you another curveball.
It feels almost too easy. He's just going to go to sleep in the same room as you? No fanfare? "You don't want to...consummate the marriage?"
"You sound upset." He cocks an eyebrow at you. "Were you hoping to?"
"No!" Your face feels hot as he gives you that lopsided half-smile again, more like a smirk this time.
"That's a shame. I prefer fucking willing participants, you see." He drapes himself over the elaborate chaise lounge opposite the bed.
"Are you usually this vulgar?" you retort.
"I see no reason for pretense. We're married, after all." Curiously, he hasn't taken his mask off. Does he sleep in it? Or is he only keeping it on because you're here?
You feel silly now, dressed in a flimsy little silken thing, wrapped up like a present for a brute who won't even touch you. Considerate of him, you suppose. Not that it will matter for very long.
"Sleep well then, hmm? You should be well rested for your first day as queen tomorrow." There's a dangerous gleam in his eye, but it disappears so quickly you wonder if you had imagined it.
"Yes," you say, sitting on the bed while not taking your eyes off of him. "Sleep well."
You give it a few hours, just to be safe. A few hours of laying awake staring at the ceiling. A few hours of watching as moonlight bathes the room in silver light. A few hours of watching him.
The deepening darkness casts sharp shadows across his face, making him seem even more inhuman. What do bloodthirsty emperors dream of? Dominating the weak? Slaughtering the innocent? Conquering women? You shudder. Best not to know.
It's well past midnight when you slowly, quietly get up and pull your dagger from its hidden holster. One downwards thrust, and you're going home. One quick motion, and all of this is over.
It's a little anticlimactic, you think. But this is for the best. For you. For your people. For your family.
Light as a feather, you straddle him, hovering over him just enough so that your weight doesn't wake him. You try not to think about how intimate this position is, and remind yourself that this is the best way to prevent him from getting up or struggling, should your first strike not end him immediately. Which it will, of course.
You take a deep breath as you position the blade right over his heart, calming the fluttering anxiety in your mind. The beginning of a new chapter of your life begins now.
You plunge the dagger downwards.
In an instant, König's eyes fly open. Before you can react at all, his hand has seized your wrist in an iron grip, the tip of your dagger a hair's length from his chest.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" He purrs. "A little assassin?"
You grit your teeth and attempt to overpower him: you're so, so close. But his strength is so overwhelming that you can't even get the tip of the dagger to make contact. Panic starts to set in. This isn't good. This is disastrous, actually. He was supposed to be asleep!
You attempt to pull away, to get away, to do anything, but it's no use. "You don't seem surprised," you spit.
"It's not every day your most bitter enemy offers you his daughter's hand in marriage as a truce," he replies, clear amusement in his voice. Is he enjoying this? "Of course I smelled a rat. You must think me a fool."
"No." Yeah, you kind of had.
"Lying ill suits you, princess." You cry out as he jams his fingers into the tendons in your wrist, forcing you to release the dagger. You watch, helplessly, as he picks it up with his other hand and turns it over, studying it in the moonlight.
"What a delicate little knife," he muses. In your hand, it's a sizeable weapon. But held in his fingers it looks small, harmless. To your dismay, he then proceeds to chuck it at the opposite wall, the blade sticking itself solidly in between two panels.
"You knew?" you ask, a tremor in your traitorous voice.
"Oh, I suspected. You had me disappointed for a while—I thought you would have made an attempt well before this." He lets out a deep chuckle that sends terror through you. "For a moment I even thought that you were as you presented: just some poor little lamb, a peace offering given up to the slaughter." His eyes narrow behind the mask. "I am glad to see that you have proven to be much more interesting than that."
"Interesting?" Out of all the reactions you would have expected him to have, this is not one of them. Fear, anger, even immediate violence. Not...interest.
"You have no idea," he says. Your eyes widen as he you feel his hand run up your thigh.
That's not the only thing you feel, though. He shifts a bit underneath you, and it's then that the earlier flush to your cheeks returns in full force. Is he...hard?!
"If you're going to kill me, then get on with it," you ground out through your teeth.
"Little one, if I had wanted you dead immediately, I would have already pinned you down and snapped your neck. No, you've given me a gift: a gift I intend to cherish." You shiver as he slides a hand up your thigh. "A challenge."
"Is this a game to you?" You're not sure if your breath is running ragged from fear or anger, now.
"I could end this at any time, you know." You gasp involuntarily as a hand closes around your throat. "But that would be no fun, now would it?"
"You are a fool, then." You stare at him defiantly, even as his grip constricts your breathing. "Because I will kill you."
His eyes dance with some mad glee. "That's what I like to hear."
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Hiiiiiiiii besties. I've been chewing on the idea of a medieval royalty sort of au since before Shrike, and I came up with this premise like. At least a year or two ago, before I was even in the COD fandom. So I'm glad to finally be making some real headway on it! I have no idea how many parts this is going to have. I have a lot of plot planned for it, so we're just gonna have to see where the vibes take us!
I'd like to thank @danibee33 my angel as always. I bounced a lot of royal/medieval/king König ideas off of her, some of which I still may use, but I changed the plot drastically when I had an epiphany a week or two ago. Hope you like this one babe <3 Also, thank you @kneelingshadowsalome and @gremlingottoosilly for their historical/time period aus. Your fics gave me a real kick in the ass to finish this.
Also shoutout to Pedro Pascal fans? I stumbled upon some breathtakingly kinky fanfiction on this beloved hellsite featuring the Mandalorian, and thought: you know what? If people can proudly write and publish the nastiest, most shameless smut I've ever read, then I can push through whatever impostor syndrome, perfectionist embarrassment I have with my work and get it done.
As usual, please let me know your feedback! I'm trying out a bit of a different characterization for König (not that much different, he's still our beloved violent horny maniac), and I want to know what people think.
I'm also going to be using my taglist again. If you were tagged here and don't want to be tagged anymore, please let me know! And if you would like to be added to the taglist, drop a reply <3
@crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @riotakire @ax0lotly @cookiepie111 @kacchasu @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @garbau @hexqueensupreme @queenthorin1 @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @euuuuuuun @e1x03 @kokonoiwife @deaddainish @dragonfang @teehee-47 @catluvwr
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winterarmyy · 1 year
Text
Plot Twist | Part I
An arranged marriage with mafia!bucky.
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Run-through: I just need to get this out of my system. Most of arranged marriage mob/mafia!au I've read has a strong/bratty reader. And a really mean/asshole Bucky. Which is absolutely fine btw but its getting repetitive for me. I wanted to see a reader who's actually soft but fierce when she wants to be. And Bucky who is generally cold and seems to be married to his job but notices small things that the reader do, thus subconsciously started to care about her. They don’t hate each other, nor do they are infatuated. I don’t know if this exist, so I decided write it myself just in case. Enjoy!
Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III* (end) | Extra
Words: 1.1k++
Pairing: beefy mafia!bucky x female!reader
Warnings: just fluffy and wholesome stuff here. Nothing graphic or explicit.
P/S: I like to write in 3rd pov btw. There's a few mentions of y/n sometimes too. Beware of the grammar mistakes, English is not my first language. This might be 2-3 parts type of fic, so tell me what you think so far.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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“He's late.”
The soft clinking sounds of his rings colliding with each other and onto the dresser woke her up from her deep slumber. Though her body remained still, her mind continued to wonder,
“Late. Again.”  She thought.
The sound of fabrics rustling about hinted her of what was happening beyond her closed eyes. The shut of the bathroom door confirmed her speculations.
“So, what if he came back home late? Why does it concern you?” She questioned herself.
Only a fool would believe if she said that she didn't care at all about the whereabout and well-being of this man. He is her husband after all.
Six months ago, she stood on the alter with that man. They swore an oath. They sealed the kiss. He was hers and she was his.
James Buchanan Barnes; Bucky was what he preferred to called. He is what every man wants to become, and every woman wants to be with.
An Adonis of a man; impossibly tall, 6'5"; body armored with thick layer of muscles. Bucky is huge, that if he trapped her against the wall, she might just see the resemblance of him to a grizzly bear. His dark hair flowed just above his shoulder and his steel blue eyes were as cold as his personality.
Though she wouldn't compare him to a frozen blizzard during the winter, he was more like the first day of snow, when the white flakes started to fall.
Cold enough to make you shiver and warm enough to lure you out but most importantly, obscenely beautiful.
However, of course, the main reason of the marriage set up by her father was not because of how beautiful he is, but to fulfil his hunger for power. As if the territories that their family has wasn't enough, her father arranged this union to extend his reign.
Y/N protested at first but knew better than to fight against her father. Being raised in such family, at a very young age she learned to think always ahead; pass the emotions and intuitions. What's the rational and logical way to solve a problem.
Took her a week to wrap her head around the matter, research about Barnes and go through the agreement between her father and her then husband to be. Barnes had listed some main demands regarding the union and although most of them were about their business, but one particular demand had caught her attention.
“After marriage, the couple must be faithful to one another. Any romantic/sexual relationships prior must be severed/resolved immediately. Failed to do so will result to termination of the contract.”
“Hmm. Interesting.” She thought.
Not that she was in any relationship at the time, and all the research result to possibly positive outcome. So, in the end, she complied.
Which then explained why she was sleeping in Bucky's bed six months later.
“I know you're awake.” Bucky's gravel voice startled her internal thoughts. She could feel the indentation of the mattress on his side of the bed, the fresh and clean scent wafting from him. She nearly purred from a sniff of it.
She slowly opened her eyes as if she was trying to peep and god what a sight to see after a restless sleep; Bucky's idea of pajamas was basic pants and nothing above and Y/N didn’t know what to feel about that. Does she hate it? Absolutely not. Does she like it? Well, he is easy on the eye indeed.
The room was dimly lit, but she could see his slightly damp hair; it looked longer than it is dry. Her eyes followed the outline of his body leaning against the bed. The soft light reflected on his metal arm particularly follows the gold lines decorating the dark surface.
She often had intrusive thoughts of tracing the lines; what would it feel like against her fingertips. Does he feel anything? Is it cold? Will it feel good? 
“You do know that it’s a waste your time to wait for me, right?” He huffed a heavy breath. She could hear the fatigue in his sigh.
And how does Bucky know that she waited for him before admitting her defeat to the drowsiness? Somehow, Bucky always managed to know things, to the littlest matter, even when he’s million miles across the world.
Just like when she found a copy of Pride and Prejudice on the bed a few months ago. The day before she received it, her copy was drenched in coffee; a young woman bumped into her in front of the café she often visit. He was in Russia that time. “Was it Clint? Did he tell Bucky?” she wondered.
“Whoever said I was waiting for you?” She scoffed, yet if the room was well lit enough, Bucky would’ve seen how playful her expression was.
He hummed a deep voice, “Hmm.” there’s a hint of doubt in his tone.
Y/N quickly follow her previous sentence, “I was simply enjoying my reading, that I lost track of time.” She shifted to face him and tucked herself further into the blanket, hiding the lower half of her face as she looked up at him. She wondered if he could tell that she was smiling just from her eyes.
Bucky’s gaze remained still on her, as if he was trying to reach into her soul, before he leaned closer to peek on the book on the table. Pride and Prejudice written on it.
He chuckled, which was rare. At the least the real ones are.
Of course, she had seen him smile and laugh countless of time. Especially during those gala they often attend. But those were just another set of armor he wore on a daily basis.
Bucky tried to bite back a smile, sinking his teeth into his lower lip, “Lost track of time, huh?” Yet, somehow Y/N can hear the smile in his tone.
“A good read?” he asked as if he did not know why his wife brought up about the book. She never said anything about the gift; not a thank you or a complaint. 
She simply cherish it in her own way. He heard from Clint that she rearranged her whole bookshelf just to make space for the book he gave her. Maybe this was her way of saying thank you.
He had been giving her books every week, since.
She pulled the blanket away from her face, lips curled into a genuine smile, “Always.”
Bucky preened to her reply before suddenly, “Okay, enough chit chat. It’s late.” he said almost monotone sounded, as he made himself comfortable under the blanket.
Before she could overthink of what went wrong, why the sudden drop of chemistry; that was when she felt his hand roamed to find hers. Bucky brought her palm closer to his face, she could feel his hot breath against her cold skin. 
He leaned his lips on her palm, leaving a soft and tender kiss as he mumbled, “Goodnight, doll.”
Rush of red shades bloomed on her cheeks, before caving into the feeling of his stubble on her hand. She gently caresses the side of his cheeks, hoping it soothes him to sleep. 
The corners of her lips curved upwards into a smile, "See? Like, the first day of snow."
Part II >>
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A/N: It’s my first fic so... share your thoughts? ily 🤍
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