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itsbuckytm · 4 months

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Love at first Sight / Billy The Kid

summary : billy assumed the role of your father's right-hand man, working for a man rooted in tradition and possessing a distasteful approach toward women, especially you. as he engaged in conversations with his boss expressing displeasure regarding you, billy found himself increasingly interested in you. your situation, bound by an arranged marriage to the mayor's son—a union you adamantly rejected—created a unique backdrop. It was during a specific event that billy had the opportunity to meet your father's daughter, and in that moment, he became a firm believer in the existence of love at first sight. this entire journey began with his enduring fascination with the scent of your perfume back at your mother's stable.

ps : english is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes and grammar errors. please don't copy my work without giving proper credit. thank you!

Billy never experienced a genuine sense of belonging, whether he was away or striving to improve the situation for his family. He was acutely aware of society's treatment of outliers. As the affluent men from the village strolled through the suburbs, they, too, recognized the presence of criminals in their midst, and Billy found himself among them. And yet, he blended himself quite well with the wealth too.

Although you had expected to be the new talk of the town, an arranged marriage with the mayor's son was not on your list of future goals. Furthermore, being wedded to an arrogant individual who was well aware that it was merely a strategic move, and behind closed doors, he had no qualms about bringing his mistress into the same house, was beyond anything you had envisioned. Especially considering that if you had dared to do the same, your father would unleash his fury and shame at dawn, calling you the same names he had directed at your mother. She, in a desperate attempt, had reluctantly embraced the notion of marriage solely to preserve the family legacy.

"She will marry him, no questions asked." Uttered your father, the day before the marriage. And even in this assertion, it was the most affectionate sentiment he could muster towards his wife. Over time, you began to harbor suspicions that he, too, maintained a relationship outside the confines of home. In contrast to your newly arranged husband, your father, at least, displayed a modicum of dignity and refrained from entirely demeaning his wife in the presence of someone he found more alluring.

While the mere rumor of the mayor's son getting married spread, it didn't take long for the news to reach even those living close to your mansion. It was an announcement that resonated beyond the village. Citizens from the village, including yourself, were invited to celebrate this new union. Despite wanting to find humor in the irony of the situation, you found yourself gazing at your reflection in the mirror that very morning. Your hair was styled more meticulously than usual, and your maid affectionately applied a touch of powdered blush on your cheeks, suggesting that you should also apply a shade of red to your lips—apparently, your husband's favorite color. However, this notion raised suspicions that he might have mentioned it merely as a reminder of his own extramarital affair.

On the contrary, Billy found himself deeply engrossed in his pursuit of a plan to earn money and provide for his family back home. What he failed to mention was that he had been working for a member of your family since the very beginning. However, he soon found himself bewildered, troubled by the revelation that your father had a daughter. Despite being accustomed to your father's often proudly expressed family affairs, what offended Billy the most was the notion of witnessing such a beautiful girl tethered to a man he could hardly bear to part with—your new husband.

As your father's right-hand man, Billy was privy to more information than he probably should have been. He spent countless hours in conversations, observing how your new husband seemed enamored with the notion of having you as his wife. He openly entertained the idea that his mistress was even more alluring, describing her in rather explicit terms. This perspective left Billy contemplating the disdain these two men harbored—not only for their wealth but also for their audacity in talking about you with so much filth coming from their mouth.

Unbeknownst to both of you, there was a transparent tension in the air. Your father, having the audacity, warned Billy to tread carefully. "She's a spicy one, you know." He casually remarked one night at the pub, with your mother expressing concern over your father's prolonged absence. "She could make any man fall in love, a seductress she is." The words of your husband tempted Billy to rise and deliver a punch to his face, but he understood that such an act would cost him his job. Driven by the determination to catch a glimpse of your beautiful face on your wedding day, he suppressed his impulse. "You seem quiet tonight, boy." Your father's voice resonated in Billy's already agitated mind. Despite his initial disdain for the man who employed him, this time, Billy managed a smile. Aware that alcohol had taken its toll on the two affluent men, he began to entertain the thought that perhaps even the most sought-after criminal could outsmart every wealthy aristocrat, including your father and your husband.

As the reality of today being the wedding day sank in, you were expected to catch a glimpse of your husband before the ceremony. How mistaken you were when you decided to step out for a breath of fresh air. Suppressing tears, you tried not to panic at the thought of soon saying "Yes" to your husband, officially binding yourself to him. It was at that moment that Billy saw you in full. Carrying out a discreet surveillance as per your father's instructions, he had to halt his horse to avoid causing a disturbance in your courtyard. Dressed in his customary attire, a matching hat and blouse with his curls peeking through, he stood under the humid weather. His piercing blue eyes locked onto your silhouette. In that moment, Billy realized that love at first sight was indeed a reality.

Your thoughts were consumed by anxiety as you made every effort not to appear completely distraught. Amidst the constant pressure to present perfection, a seemingly inconsequential decision loomed large, poised to alter your life entirely. You were on the verge of declaring your desire to escape this distressing situation forever. If it weren't for your mother's insistence on keeping her daughter by her side, you might have left the wretchedness long before venturing into the wilderness. It was during this tumultuous time that the sound of a horse approaching caught your attention, guided to a halt. A boy of your age emerged, and there was a sense that he might be an outlaw in the employ of your husband's family. His gentle gaze met yours, prompting you to approach cautiously. "May I help you?" You inquired, hoping your recent tears had dried by this point, and the dryness in your voice was simply a result of dehydration.

"I reckon I should be askin' you the same question, darlin'." The accent hinted that the boy hailed from the South. A man of his demeanor might be viewed with disdain or seen as one who relishes the rugged existence of the wilderness as a mere challenge. However, his mannerisms suggested that this same man was well-acquainted with the nomadic lifestyle. Perhaps, if you were an unattached lady with enough daring in your spirit to break free, you could run away—with or without a total stranger—just as long as it meant being far away from home. "Billy's the name. Your father hired me to be..." He paused momentarily, conscious of your father's confession the previous night about you being the woman he envisioned. However, Billy wanted to witness it with his own eyes and found himself captivated by your subtle vulnerability and the fearlessness you displayed in conversing with someone of lesser means, not to mention a criminal. "His right-hand man. I reckon we haven't been properly introduced. You must be Y/N.”

Your eyes widened in shock, almost in disbelief, though it wasn't entirely surprising that your father would enlist someone to handle his less savory tasks. It wasn't until today's events that you truly learned about the man your father had only briefly mentioned, leaving you to think he was nothing more than an urban legend. Considering the amount of alcohol in his system, you were hardly surprised. Yet, there he stood—the man your father boasted about during lengthy dinners with his men: Billy the Kid. A figure with a shrewd skill for shooting intruders without hesitation, coupled with a charming demeanor. "I am..." You confessed, your admiration for his demeanor evident as you approached. You became conscious of the horse, realizing it was from your mother's stable. "She's been fed properly." Billy remarked, noting your gesture as you began to caress the braided hair of Billy's horse—a routine you had always done, realizing it was all along the horse reserved for him. "Love the braids, by the way."

His compliment sent a warm flush to your cheeks. "I've always wanted to know the owner's skill in braiding. I wanted to thank them, but a little bird told me it was someone's daughter who's about to get married. And upon hearing that, I was sad to hear such news." Among all the men you had encountered in your life, something distinctive resonated in Billy, acknowledging the small gesture. He was aware of your presence only at the wrong times and different hours, lamenting the missed opportunity of not meeting you sooner, especially after learning the news of you becoming a recognized wife.

The news struck Billy deeply. In all honesty, he meant every word he spoke. He realized it was merely a matter of being there at the right time, and he could have been the one to offer you in marriage. The thought of heritage and the possibility of being dismissed due to your father's demise didn't concern him. Billy began to believe that if you had been with him all along, you could have been a free lady. Unlike many men in the wilderness, he would have treated you as the woman you were meant to be—a princess in his eyes. Cheating, for him, was a sin. Despite his own involvement in many crime, he was determined not to tolerate disloyalty and would damn well wage a war against any men who prioritized their sins over loyalty.

"I—" You were so taken aback by Billy's sudden interest that unfamiliar feelings stirred within you, emotions you hadn't experienced in a long time. You had convinced yourself that love was a distant memory, and the idea of loving your own husband seemed utterly ridiculous. "Y/N! The ceremony is about to start!" Your mother's voice interrupted, drawing attention to Billy's presence. A formal smile appeared on her face, indicating that they knew each other long before you did. After all, he was involved in your father's business, and your father was adept at keeping his affairs away from you. "Billy." Your mother called out his name, prompting a respectful bow from him. "Miss." He acknowledged. "I'll leave you two ladies for the preparations, going back to duty." He announced, to which your mother responded. "Oh, you know you're always welcomed, boy. We even kept a plate for you. You're family."

"You're family." The words echoed in your mind as your mother gently took your arm, guiding you back inside to try on your wedding dress. Before stepping fully inside, you stole a final glance at Billy. He acknowledged your gaze with a brief nod, and you could have sworn you saw a soft smile, implying that everything was going to be okay.

But it didn't. The marriage turned out to be a complete spectacle. The meticulously arranged plates, with the white and red combination your husband had chosen, were even more distasteful than the concept of marriage itself. Despite having said "Yes," anticipating your father's intense gaze throughout the entire wedding, you were proven wrong. To no one's surprise, after a few drinks, he was already drunk and couldn't care less. However, you sensed someone's gaze shifting entirely from your mother to you from afar. It was Billy's gaze, his usual blue eyes looking at you so lovingly that he began to curse himself for not being the fortunate man to propose. "Don't they make a loving pair," your mother would say to him, although it was only for show. Your mother had shown signs of concern that your husband had already found a mistress back at home. She wanted to ensure that you felt the love your husband supposedly felt for the other ladies, and that man turned out to be Billy.

You came to the realization that throughout dinner, you had been putting on a façade, performing an act solely to appease the affluent company. The discomfort gradually intensified until it manifested as a nauseating twist in your stomach, making it impossible to consume such an excessive amount of food in such a short span. The moment your husband, adorned with a forced smile and a trace of alcohol on his breath, attempted to lean in, you swiftly rose from your seat. A disconcerting sensation lingered as you tried to evade his touch. Meanwhile, you couldn't help but notice Billy's unwavering gaze, indicating his awareness that something was amiss. True to his character as a loyal confidant, he patiently bided his time until you excused yourself, following suit shortly after. However, Billy's departure did not go unnoticed by your father, who inquired about his early exit. "Just need some fresh air." Was Billy's offered explanation.

Only upon reaching the back door did your eyes well up with tears, the very tears you had struggled desperately to conceal both before and after the wedding. As you brushed your fingers against a ring that didn't rightfully belong to you, an overwhelming desire to scream surged within. The pain and desperation begged for an outlet, a release, but no words emerged. Collapsing to your knees, vulnerability engulfed you completely.

Billy trailed behind, intending to afford you some privacy and a moment alone. However, what he hadn't anticipated was stumbling upon you in such a distressed state. Witnessing you in such a condition was beyond his comprehension. It was inconceivable for him to imagine seeing someone as beautiful and wise as you in such turmoil, especially considering that even his own boss, your father, would allow such a fate. You only became aware of his presence when the rhythmic thud of boots on the wooden planks reached your ears near the back door. Swiftly turning around, you flinched at the sudden noise, relieved to find it was only Billy, signaling there was no need for concern. “Woah there Darlin’. It’s just me…”

The casual and frequent use of "Darling" as a term of address by you was a mannerism you couldn't envision any other man adopting. The way he effortlessly and elegantly incorporated it into his speech hinted at an attraction that went beyond mere details. It was apparent that he harbored a profound desire to get to know you better, suggesting a possibility of rediscovering the love you believed was lost. This, of course, hinged on your continued role as a dutiful wife to your husband. However, Billy had his own agenda and plans in motion. That you would come with him, back home.

Your hands strained to reach out, desperate for a connection or anything tangible that could restore the emotions you longed to feel. You yearned to be loved for the woman you truly were, not merely a decorative statue to be admired at someone else's convenience. "Hey—" He noticed your discomfort, limping in an attempt to maintain the facade of perfection. "Shh... Come here." His arms tenderly encircled your waist, a stark contrast to his robust frame, displaying a genuine fear of causing harm. A true gentleman, he was. As he caught the scent of your delicate perfume, a vivid memory surfaced—the first time he encountered it was when your father had gifted him his retired horse. That same fragrance lingered in the horse's mane. Back then, he couldn't put a face to the scent, but now, he was fortunate to not only have a face to associate it with but also a person to cherish.

"I feel so disgusted... A woman with a husband should not sin." You confessed to him, torn between the desire to have Billy all to yourself and the looming temptation. The notion of love at first sight seemed undeniable, but Billy, with genuine concern, attempted to steer you away from such thoughts. "And let your husband be with that whore back home without even worrying about his own wife? I call that bullshit." His Southern accent became more pronounced, his breath closer beneath your face, and his eyes gleaming in the bright sun of the wilderness. "I wouldn't mind making the husband regret something." He added nonchalantly.

Tilting your head, your gaze was solely fixed on him. "And what sort of action do you propose to make my husband regret so profoundly?" You teased him with a hushed tone. This banter was a familiar game for you, reminiscent of the numerous long dinners accompanying your father, where many men sought your hand in marriage. Yet, all those efforts went to waste, leading your father to plead with you to consider marrying the mayor's son. "Will you love me the way you're looking at me right now?" You inquired, playfully challenging.

"I'll do whatever it takes." He asserted confidently, his thumb tracing the line of your chin, lifting it gently to meet your gaze. Your eyes momentarily wandered to the slightly exposed chest, a sight he might have deliberately unveiled for your eyes only. "Anything within my power to claim you as mine. Even if the consequences become their own, I'm willing to make you feel at home once again."

The notion of feeling at home had eluded you for quite some time, a sensation you hadn't experienced in what felt like an eternity. The concept of home seemed so distant that even your own residence became something almost unfathomable, much like the tears that had once dried only to resurface now. It occurred to you that perhaps Billy was the man you had longed to find in your life. If not for that realization, you would be compelled to thank your father for hiring Billy during that critical moment. Fortunately for both of you, Billy shared the same fervor to bring you home with him, even if it meant sneaking out or feigning vacations.

“Wouldn’t, they suspect of my absent? My husband could care less anyway…” Billy chuckled slightly at the irony of the situation. Something he too found oddly ironic by the subject of you being the object of another wedding that in the end was only to keep the money aligned. “I might have a few tricks up to my sleeve, darlin’. How do we say? By dawn tomorrow? I’ll come pick you up.”

As you contemplated the excuse, fully aware that you would scrutinize it, he pressed on. "Mother said she'll keep this a secret. She mentioned you'd been in contact with a distant cousin, and the plan was for you to spend a few weeks there and such. Oddly enough, your husband didn't seem to mind and even agreed." Your eyes registered disbelief. Did you hear correctly? Your mother? The same mother who appeared so vulnerable and hesitant, had orchestrated everything behind your father’s back. She was likely cognizant of Billy's admiration for you since his initial visit to the stable, where he expressed a desire to confront your father whenever he spoke of you in a distasteful manner.

"I promised her that I'd protect you and play the part of an unsuspecting ally upon returning to your husband. Your father tasked me with being your right-hand man this time, but it seems our luck had something even more significant in store." He confessed with softened eyes. A part of you yearned to embrace him, to acknowledge and reciprocate his admiration. However, your gaze shifted to his lips, a desire he sensed had been lingering since your first meeting. Without hesitation, he gently held your chin with one hand, drawing your lips closer to his, fully immersing both of you in a passionate kiss. It was a kiss you had no intention of ending, a kiss that spoke of love—something noticeably absent in your husband's crude and repulsive attempts to win your favor. “Mine…” You whispered so softly, begging for more kisses through it all.

“Mine forever… Señorita.”

#tom blyth #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid imagines #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #billy the kid #tom blyth imagines #tom blyth fluff #imagines #x reader #tom blyth fanfiction #billy the kid x you #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid smut

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misshoneyimhome · 2 months

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Can you do lazy morning sex with Jack Hughes please? <3

Well of course bb 🤍⚡️

Always a pleasure to do some [soft] Thirsty Thursday 🌺 by the way, this has got no plot besides waking up next to Jack H 🙈

Warnings; smut 18+, soft unprotected sex (p in v), cum inside; really, nothing else

Word count; 1.6K

・✶ ｡ﾟ

As the first light of dawn peeked through the curtains, a cosy warmth filled the bedroom where Jack Hughes slowly began to wake up. His eyes gently opened to greet the new day, and beside him was a comfortable presence; you, peacefully asleep. A soft smile appeared on his face as he admired your calmness, finding solace in the gentle sound of your breathing.

With a delicate touch, he brushed a loose strand of hair from your face, admiring how the sunlight illuminated your skin, surrounding you with a radiant glow, as he felt a rush of love, his heart swelling with affection just by looking at you.

Being careful not to disturb your sleep too much, Jack drew a little closer, enjoying the warmth of your body. He carefully wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him until you fit perfectly together, and the soft sound of your breath against his skin sent a pleasant shiver down his spine.

In each other's arms, the outside world faded away completely, leaving only the peace of the moment, as Jack planted a tender kiss on the top of your head, inhaling the sweet scent of your hair.

"Good morning, babe," he whispered softly in the quiet room.

You stirred slightly, letting out a contented sigh as you nestled closer to his form, and a sleepy smile played on your lips as you blinked up at him.

"Good morning," you replied, your voice husky with sleep. "What time is it?"

Jack quickly glanced at the bedside clock before turning back at you, speaking gently. "It's still early, so, we can stay like this a little while longer,” he said, his thumb tracing gentle circles along your hip.

Feeling a wave of warmth in your chest at his words, you sighed lightly, looking peacefully up at him as your eyes stayed locked in a content moment.

Then, disregarding the usual morning routines, Jack slowly leaned in a little closer and gently closed the small gap between you, sharing a soft kiss. And completely immersed in the depth of his touch, you yielded to the tender glide of his tongue, intertwining yours with his in a delicate exchange. Your fingers found comfort in his brown locks, stroking them affectionately as you surrendered to the embrace of the kiss.

The atmosphere around was filled with a soft, romantic vibe as your bodies intertwined in the sheets amidst the golden morning light, your lips locked in a loving union.

Then gradually, Jack shifted slightly to hover over you, his kiss becoming more assertive yet maintaining its tenderness, sending delightful waves through you, as his hand delicately slipping beneath the fabric of your oversized t-shirt, his touch smooth against your skin.

You felt yourself getting more turned on by every second, and instinctively you drew him closer, expressing your longing for him. And as the intensity grew, his hand moved to cup your breast, applying a gentle pressure while your leg delicately rubbed against his thigh, feeling a sensation releasing waves of pleasure that burned within.

"Take it off," Jack murmured lazily into the kiss, his tone of command yet softened by desire. With a subtle shift, he gave you space to comply, and you did so willingly, swiftly removing the barrier between you.

Then returning beneath the covers, you melted into his touch once more, and without hesitation, you resumed the kiss, your lips meeting his with urgency, fuelled by the raw desire coursing through your veins.

A tingling sensation sparked at your core, making you more eager, and a wetness to form as Jack's firm morning wood pressed proudly against your thigh. And unable to contain the need for him, a soft moan escaped your lips, mingling with the heated exchange of breath.

You felt Jack's amusement in the curve of his lips, his own need for you evident as he gently rubbed his hard cock against your thigh. Almost teasingly as each movement sent waves of pleasure rippling through you, heightening your craving with every touch. His actions simply fuelled the fire within you, stirring a hunger that demanded satisfaction.

"Please, Jack," you murmured, the urgency in your voice revealing the desire that consumed you.

"Please what?" he teased innocently, his lips trailing down to your neck, leaving a trail of gentle bites and kisses along the tender skin.

His touch was intoxicating, each sensation sparking pleasure across your skin, and slowly, your mind began to haze, surrendering to the spell he cast upon you. Your hands didn’t even know how to act in the moment; however, Jack was quick to grab one in his, and intertwined his fingers with yours beside your head.

"I want to feel you," you whimpered softly, the words escaping your lips like a fervent plea, as your body was uncontrollably yearning to be handled by him.

"Only because you ask so nicely," Jack chuckled softly, his voice tinged with amusement as he withdrew from you with a sensual, mischievous expression adorned his handsome features, a gentle smirk dancing at the corners of his lips.

And then with purposeful motions, Jack reached to discard his boxers, freeing his hardened member, which throbbed with eager anticipation. Then returning beneath the covers, he positioned himself in a familiar missionary position, lining himself up for the need you both desired.

Placing another tender kiss on your lips, Jack encouraged you to grip the back of his shoulders, inviting you to intertwine your body with his, your legs gently wrapping around his waist. And with a teasing pressure at your entrance hinting at his intentions, the heightening anticipation boiled within you.

“Jack,” you moaned softly, impatient for him to act. And with a grin across his lips, he gave you what you wished for.

"Oh, baby, you feel amazing," he breathed deeply, his voice filled with desire as he slowly eased himself into the welcoming warmth of your depths. Each inch of his length was met with the tight hug from your walls, sparking his soft moans to mingle with yours, creating a passionate melody that filled the room as he slowly stretched you.

It was an intimate dance, gentle and tender, as Jack merged his body with yours. Then letting your wetness coat his member, he slowly pulled out a little before pushing back in. And swiftly his hips maintained a steady rhythm, each fervent movement sending waves of pleasure rippling through you, as his lips sought yours once more in a passionate kiss.

The atmosphere was saturated with a delicate blend of love and lust mingling in the air. Soft moans sound throughout the bedroom as a symphony accompaning the unfolding of the morning.

With every motion, every joining of your bodies, the intensity between you grew, a flame burning brightly with the promise of shared ecstasy. And as the impending climax approached, a delicious tension coiled in your lower abdomen, your walls instinctively tightening around his shaft in response to his motions.

Jack's moans echoed within the room, growing stronger with each impassioned thrust, propelling both of you closer to the edge. And your own cries were mixed with his, rising in volume as you surrendered to the orgasm that awaited.

"Yes, Jack," you moaned, your nails leaving crescent marks on his skin as you held onto him, the climax tantalisingly close. "Please..."

But Jack wasn't ready to let go just yet, even as he felt his own climax building, and with a breathless plea, he urged you to wait. "Don't come yet, baby," he gasped, his voice urgent. "I want to come together."

And you knew you wanted nothing more than to share the pinnacle of pleasure with him. Trying your best not to give into the high, you tightened your grip on his shoulders.

However, it was needless to say, that both of you were desperate to reach the peak. And in nothing more than mere seconds, Jack picked up his pace once more, delving deeply and eliciting louder moans from you.

"Oh, God, Jack! I can't..." you cried out, overwhelmed by his deep, hard thrusts, as the impending climax threatened to overwhelm you.

And just as you felt you couldn't hold on any longer, Jack's deep grunt signalled his own release, his body almost arching in ecstasy as he was just about to surrender to the wave of pleasure washing over him.

"Yes, baby, come with me," he groaned, his voice thick, urging you to let go and join him in the blissful release.

And in the height of ecstasy, it was a symphony of pleasure as you both gave into the intense peak of climax. Moans mingled and sounded loudly in the air, a harmonious melody of a shared release.

As Jack spilt his liquids into you, his body shuddering with the intensity of his orgasm, you reciprocated by allowing your own fluids to cover his member, a tangible testament to the pleasure he had caused you.

It was a blissful moment the two of you shared in the golden reflections of sunlight. And as the euphoric haze slowly began to dissipate, you both emerged from the depths of ecstasy, releasing deep breaths as you settled back into reality. With gentle care, Jack withdrew himself and nestled beside you, the warmth of his body inviting you into a sweaty, comforting embrace.

"That was quite the way to start the morning, huh?" you remarked lightly, meeting his gaze with a soft smile, your eyes reflecting the affection swelling within you.

"What can I say, I'm a fan of a good morning," Jack chuckled in response, his expression one of contentment as he placed a tender kiss on your lips. In that moment, wrapped in each other's arms, there was nowhere else you'd rather be than in the comfort of love, basking in the afterglow of shared passion and intimacy.

#my asks #18+#jack hughes smut #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl smut

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thedensworld · 15 days

Text

Hold on Tight | Y. Jh

Pairing: Jeonghan x reader

Genre: revenge Au, marriage Au, humor, fluff

Summary: What's started for a revenge and status has developed into something Jeonghan couldn't comprehend. He unconsciously were willing to do anything and it was only for you.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Baby you and me are a twisted Fantasy,

Buckle up and take a seat,

Hold on tight.

As the night deepened, their connection intensified beyond mere touch, brimming with an ardent expression of love and desire. Jeonghan pressed you against the wall, a silent invitation for an embrace that intertwined their figures. Lips locked in a fervent union, reluctant to part even for a moment, as if fearing they might miss each other in mere seconds. A symphony of groans escaped their mouths, echoing the passion that surged between them, while wandering hands sought to intensify the fervor of the moment.

Amidst their escalating passion, a sudden ding from the elevator interrupted their reverie, drawing a smile from your lips even as your groans grew louder, mingling with the occasional moans that slipped past your lips. Undeterred by their location in the corridor, their ardor persisted, oblivious to the world around them.

With your eyes fluttering open, you were startled by the sight of a familiar figure standing before the elevator. It was Choi Seungcheol, his jaw clenched and knuckles taut with tension, his unexpected presence injecting a new layer of complexity into the already charged atmosphere.

"Oh my god..." Your voice, tinged with panic, halted Jeonghan's advances, the realization dawning that the two of you were still in the corridor, under Seungcheol's watchful gaze.

"I'm sorry, Seungcheol. We're a bit impatient here," Jeonghan quipped with a nervous chuckle, his playful tone attempting to mask the awkwardness of the situation as he gently tugged your hand, urging you to move quickly.

As Jeonghan guided you into the room, he made sure to exchange a meaningful look with Seungcheol, silently acknowledging the unspoken tension between them before shutting the door with deliberate force, hoping to convey a message without uttering a word.

Inside the sanctuary of the room, you both let out a collective sigh, the tension dissipating into nervous laughter as your eyes met, sharing a moment of relief and amusement amidst the chaos of the interrupted encounter. With a playful slap to Jeonghan's chest, you couldn't contain your laughter, hastily covering your mouth to stifle the sound, realizing the need to maintain the facade of innocence after the earlier escapade.

"That was fun," Jeonghan stated as he stepped into the room, loosening his tie with a satisfied sigh. You mirrored his relief, already heading for the toilet, eager to rid yourself of the constricting gown and hair accessories. As you emerged, your eyes met Jeonghan's through the mirror, a shared sense of amusement dancing between you.

"Did you see his face?" you said with a wide smile, your voice tinged with excitement. Jeonghan nodded, his own grin widening as he recalled the scene they had just orchestrated in the corridor, a playful surprise for his cousin.

Jeonghan joined you in the hotel room's bathroom, his expression a mix of curiosity and mild trepidation as he observed his face, still adorned with remnants of the powder and makeup from earlier in the day. Sensing his discomfort, you offered him a makeup wipe, showing him how to use it by gently swiping it across his skin, revealing the amount of makeup it effortlessly erased.

"Women use this every day?" he asked, his interest piqued by the simplicity and effectiveness of the wipes.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "More than twice a day," you added, amused by his newfound fascination with the world of makeup.

"Should I start entering the makeup industry? You could help me," Jeonghan suggested seriously, his tone betraying a hint of genuine interest. You rolled your eyes affectionately, realizing that even after months of knowing him, you were still discovering new facets of Jeonghan's personality. His workaholic ass.

"You should rest your mind and have a nice break. Your mom's concerned a lot about you being a workaholic and all," you sighed, your gaze piercing through the mirror, reflecting your genuine worry for him.

Jeonghan scoffed, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Don't be bothered by her," he said dismissively, "she still loves it every time I'm home with branded stuff for her."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his nonchalant attitude towards his mother's concerns, knowing deep down that his family's love and support were constants in his life, even amidst his hectic schedule.

"And also," he paused, his expression turning serious, "I have to support you now. I must work harder."

Your brows furrowed in protest as you insisted, "You don't have to support me," your arms crossed defensively over your chest, a hint of stubbornness in your stance.

Jeonghan, however, refused to let your words slide. Gripping your elbow gently, he pulled you to stand in front of him, his fingers deftly finding the zipper of your dress. Remembering how you had mentioned earlier that it made you feel suffocated, he began to unzip it, silently offering you relief from the discomfort.

You thanked him softly, but your eyes remained fixed on his through the mirror, silently demanding an answer to your earlier statement. Caught in your gaze, Jeonghan sighed, his own eyes reflecting a mix of frustration, knowing that despite your insistence, he couldn't help but feel responsible for looking out for you.

"It's written in our contract. I'm a businessman, Y/n. I do everything written on the paper," Jeonghan stated matter-of-factly, his tone carrying a hint of resignation as he adhered to the terms laid out in their agreement.

You smirked, feeling a sense of satisfaction as you released yourself from the confines of the gown, opting instead for the comfort of a tight tank top and knee-length leggings. "Sounds like slavery," you mumbled under your breath, a touch of humor lacing your words as you sauntered out of the bathroom, leaving Jeonghan behind.

Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Jeonghan called out to you, "Please take a shower before you sleep! I couldn't sleep with the smell of sweat disturbing me."

You chuckled at his request, knowing all too well his aversion to unpleasant odors. "I'll take the left side!" you shouted back, a playful reminder of the arrangement they had settled on for sharing the bed.

You and Mingyu were having breakfast, enjoying a delicious meal prepared by Jeonghan's personal cook. You doubted whether Jeonghan had ever tasted his own food, as you had never seen him join you at the dinner table. One detail both you and Jeonghan seemed to overlook was the fact that Mingyu lived with him, completely unaware of the contract you and Jeonghan had orchestrated. Mingyu believed his uncle and his teacher had fallen in love quickly and decided to tie the knot, a story resembling a fairy tale. He remained oblivious to the true nature of your relationship—a contract marriage veiled behind the facade of romance.

According to the contract, circumstances dictated that both of you share the same room. Surprisingly, neither of you harbored any aversion to this arrangement, having never physically encountered each other in the bedroom. It seemed a matter of timing—either you would already be asleep when Jeonghan retired to bed, or you would awaken to find him still slumbering.

As if summoned by your thoughts, Jeonghan burst into the dining room in a flurry, hastily adjusting his tie as he requested coffee from his cook. Your gaze locked with his, and he shot you a questioning look, silently probing for any indication or sign. His demeanor shifted abruptly as he addressed you, his tone cold and indifferent.

"What?" he demanded, his words laced with a hint of hostility, before his gaze flickered to Mingyu, a gentle reminder of their young companion's presence. Softening his tone, he repeated the question, this time with a touch of kindness, though the abrupt change only served to elicit a scoff from you, revealing the underlying hypocrisy of his demeanor.

"Ms. Ji is concerned that you never have breakfast and just drink coffee," Mingyu interjected during his meal, drawing Jeonghan's attention back to you, who was now gracefully eating your salad.

"I'm fine without breakfast," Jeonghan murmured, taking a sip of his coffee as it was served.

"How's your preparation for the province selection?" you inquired, prompting Mingyu's brows to raise in surprise while Jeonghan's curiosity piqued. What province selection? He wondered.

Mingyu nodded eagerly, swallowing a mouthful of food before replying, "It's scheduled for next month. I've been practicing diligently."

Jeonghan, completely unaware of the prior conversation between you and Mingyu, furrowed his brows in confusion. "What selection?" he asked, his curiosity now fully piqued.

"National league's player selection for the province level. I'll be representing Seoul," Mingyu announced proudly, his excitement palpable as he shared his upcoming endeavor with Jeonghan.

Jeonghan's expression softened with pride as he nodded in acknowledgment. "Do you need any assistance while preparing?" he offered, genuine warmth evident in his voice.

Mingyu's face lit up with gratitude at the offer. "Could I have some of the popular energy drink from your company to distribute during practice? I want to show my appreciation to my teammates for helping me train," he asked eagerly, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm.

Jeonghan readily agreed, his pride in Mingyu evident as he made a mental note to discuss the matter with his marketing team. "Just promise me you'll become a national player. I need something to brag about," he quipped with a playful shrug, before taking another sip of his coffee.

As the conversation wound down, you gently reminded Mingyu of the impending school day. "It's time to go to school," you interjected, prompting Mingyu to nod in acknowledgment.

"Alright, Ms. Ji," Mingyu replied obediently, his eagerness to excel both on the field and in his studies shining through in his demeanor.

Jeonghan furrowed his brows in perplexity upon hearing Mingyu refer to you as "Ms. Ji" at home, a subtle but noticeable change in the dynamics that seemed to unsettle him. Sensing his unease, you glanced at him, silently questioning the source of his discomfort.

"Because she's Ms. Ji, my teacher," Mingyu reasoned innocently, unaware of the implications of his words.

Jeonghan shook his head, his tone firm as he interjected, "But she's my wife now." His declaration hung in the air, a definitive statement of the new roles and relationships within the household.

Confusion clouded Mingyu's features as he sought clarification. "So... what should I call her?" he asked, his gaze shifting to you for guidance.

You shrugged helplessly, indicating that you were equally uncertain about the appropriate address in this unfamiliar situation.

Exhaling a sigh, Jeonghan attempted to resolve the matter by posing a question of his own. "What do you call the wife of your uncle?"

"Aunt?" Mingyu ventured tentatively, uncertainty coloring his tone.

Jeonghan nodded, a sense of resolution settling over him. "That's it. She's your aunt at home and Ms. Ji at school," he concluded, seeking to establish a clear distinction between the roles you played in Mingyu's life.

Jeonghan had just wrapped up a morning meeting and was on his way to his office when his phone buzzed repeatedly, signaling the arrival of multiple texts. With a quick glance at the screen, he read the messages from you, his lips quirking up into a smile at the familiar name that popped up.

Ji Y/n: Isn't it great catching up with your nephew? Join us for breakfast starting tomorrow.

Ji Y/n: Regarding Mingyu's request earlier, don't forget to follow up with your marketing team. He was really excited about it on our way to school.

Ji Y/n: I'll share some ideas with you later about the makeup industry we discussed weeks ago.

A sense of warmth washed over Jeonghan as he absorbed your messages, each one a gentle reminder of the connections and responsibilities woven into his life. Despite his efforts to maintain a composed demeanor, a smile threatened to break through, betraying the genuine joy sparked by your words.

He quickly suppressed the burgeoning smile as his secretary approached, maintaining a professional facade as he delivered his schedule for the day. Nodding in acknowledgment, he replied, "I'll be occupied in an hour, so if there's anything urgent, please let me know beforehand."

"And..." Jeonghan paused, turning just before entering his office, his mind still buzzing with thoughts of your messages. "Could you speak to the marketing department about supporting the province and national basketball player selection? I believe it would be a worthwhile endeavor. I'll provide you with the details shortly."

His secretary blinked in confusion, not quite grasping the sudden interest in basketball. "Of course, sir," he replied, making a mental note to follow up on the request.

"And," Jeonghan paused once more, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes, "please arrange for a few boxes of our energy drink to be delivered to my house every week."

His secretary's confusion deepened, his brows furrowing slightly as he struggled to comprehend the reason behind the request. "What are those for, sir?" he inquired tentatively, aware of her boss's recent marriage but uncertain of the significance of the energy drink deliveries.

Jeonghan smirked, a playful twinkle in his eyes. "You'll find out," he teased cryptically before disappearing into his office, leaving his secretary perplexed and intrigued by the request.

Days later, you mustered the courage to walk yourself to the nursery room where your father often spent his afternoons. As you pushed the door open, your heart sank at the scene before you. Seungcheol, seated across from your father, engaged in a game of chess. Both men turned their heads toward you, but it was Seungcheol who held your gaze, your eyes burning with disdain. Hate simmered beneath the surface, threatening to consume you as you struggled to maintain composure.

"My princess! Come join us, Seungcheol came to say hi," your father exclaimed cheerfully, oblivious to the tension in the room.

You entered hesitantly, closing the door behind you with a heavy sigh. The weight of your emotions pressed down on you as you dropped your bag onto the couch, arms crossing defensively over your chest. With narrowed eyes, you fixed your stare on Seungcheol, daring him to answer your unspoken question.

"Why are you here?" your voice cut through the silence, sharp and accusatory, each word dripping with disdain.

Your father rose from his seat, his expression a mixture of concern and disappointment as he watched you treat Seungcheol with such coldness. "How could you say that to your husband? I'm so sorry, my son-in-law," he apologized, his voice tinged with regret.

Frustration boiled within you as your father continued to misunderstand the situation. With a weary sigh, you attempted to interject, but Seungcheol spoke first. "The hospital called me. They said your father was looking for me," he explained, his tone soft yet determined.

You opened your eyes, gazing at Seungcheol with a mix of doubt and resignation. Releasing a heavy breath, you knew there were matters that needed addressing, away from prying eyes. "Let's talk outside," you requested, your voice tinged with weariness.

Turning to your father, you gently guided him towards his bed, the weight of the situation settling heavily upon your shoulders. "Father, Seungcheol and I need a few minutes to talk. Rest for a bit, okay?" you reassured him, though a hint of sadness lingered in your tone.

A small pout formed on your father's face as he reluctantly acquiesced. "Don't take him too long. I was having fun playing chess," he mumbled, a note of disappointment evident in his voice as he settled onto the bed.

As you stepped out of the room, Seungcheol trailing behind you, you halted and turned to face him, your expression guarded. "You should go," you stated firmly, your voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and apprehension.

Seungcheol shook his head, his gaze searching yours intently. "What is it, Y/n? I deserve an explanation," he insisted, his tone gentle yet resolute.

Frustration etched across your features as you crossed your arms tightly over your chest. "You don't hear anything and you don't see anything. You should go," you repeated, your voice tinged with a hint of desperation.

Seungcheol's brows furrowed in confusion. "The hospital called me, saying that your father was looking for me. I didn't even know he had been here until an hour ago," he revealed, his voice laced with concern.

The weight of unexpected revelations crashed over you, leaving you feeling overwhelmed and unprepared. You bit your lip, grappling with the tumultuous emotions swirling inside you. Seungcheol tilted his head, sensing your unease. "What's wrong?" he inquired softly, his eyes searching yours for answers.

Unable to articulate the turmoil in your heart, you shook your head, urging him to leave once more, the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a heavy burden.

"I'll tell you later once the situation is settled, now you should—" Before you could finish your sentence, the shrill sound of the emergency alarm pierced the air, sending a wave of panic through the hospital corridors. Nurses and doctors hurried past, their urgent footsteps echoing off the walls as they raced to the room next to where your father lay.

Caught in the midst of the chaos, you found yourself standing frozen in the middle of the hallway, uncertainty gripping your heart. Without hesitation, Seungcheol reached out and pulled you close, his strong arm wrapping protectively around your back, shielding you from the rush of bodies surging past.

His proximity was unnerving, yet strangely comforting, his familiar scent mingling with the sterile hospital air. You instinctively tried to pull away, but Seungcheol held you firmly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

"Is something happening to your father... that I don't know about?" he asked softly, his voice laced with genuine concern. In that moment, his vulnerability mirrored your own, and you found yourself grappling with the weight of unspoken fears and unanswered questions.

"Ms. Ji?" A voice called out, breaking the tension between you and Seungcheol. Both of you turned as one of the nurses approached, her tone urgent yet professional. "Glad that you came today. I need you to sign some papers before we do an x-ray before the surgery this Monday. Please follow me to the station," she instructed briskly, her eyes scanning the bustling corridor.

You nodded in acknowledgment, torn between the pressing matters at hand and the lingering presence of Seungcheol. With a fleeting glance in his direction, you made a silent decision. "You should go," you murmured softly, your voice barely audible above the din of the hospital.

As you walked away, leaving Seungcheol standing there, a whirlwind of emotions threatened to engulf you. The weight of the revelation about your father, coupled with the strain of keeping up appearances, weighed heavily on your mind. And in that moment of solitude, you found yourself grappling with the tangled web of secrets and uncertainties that had suddenly come crashing down around you.

Jeonghan stepped into his house, a faint smile gracing his lips. The weight of the day seemed to lift from his shoulders as he remembered the promising news his secretary had relayed about the impending board meeting. The possibility of finally being positioned above Seungcheol after the recent wedding buoyed his spirits, each step echoing with newfound hope.

However, his optimism faltered as he caught sight of your figure perched on a barstool at the kitchen island. His brow furrowed at the sight of the whiskey bottle on the counter, his heart sinking as he noticed the glass in your hand. This wasn't the first time he had found you in such a state, but seeing you intoxicated stirred a mixture of concern and frustration within him.

He approached you cautiously, his footsteps slowing as he took in your flushed cheeks and the vacant expression on your face. It was clear you had been drinking heavily, and the realization only deepened his worry. Jeonghan's mind raced with questions, wondering what had led you to seek solace in alcohol once more. The weight of the situation settled heavily on his shoulders, overshadowing the glimmer of hope he had carried moments before.

Jeonghan loosened his tie and approached you, concern evident in his eyes. "Bad day?" he murmured softly as he settled onto the adjacent barstool.

Turning your head toward him, you managed a bitter smile before placing your glass down on the counter, your movements sluggish from the effects of the alcohol. Stretching your arms, you let out a weary sigh. "Where's Mingyu? He's not home?"

You nodded, your words tinged with fatigue. "He has early practice every weekend, so he usually sleeps at the center," you informed him, the weariness evident in your voice not escaping Jeonghan's notice.

Jeonghan motioned toward your glass with a playful glint in his eyes. "Don't want to invite me?" he teased lightly, knowing full well he wouldn't indulge, especially with an important meeting looming the next morning. His playful remark was a subtle attempt to lighten the mood, to distract you momentarily from the weight on your shoulders.

Shaking your head, you mustered a small smile. "I'm done anyway," you replied softly before pushing yourself up from the stool. As you made your way toward the bedroom, your steps were unsteady, and you ended up bumping into the dining table. In an instant, Jeonghan was by your side, his arms wrapping around your waist to steady you.

With an amused yet gentle smile, he guided your drunken figure toward the stairs, offering support as you ascended together toward your shared bedroom.

He gently laid you down on the bed, listening to your unintelligible murmurs with a furrowed brow. "Sleep, Y/n," he urged softly, hoping to coax you into rest despite your resistance.

"No!" you protested weakly, your voice slurred with exhaustion.

As he began to tuck the comforter around your body, Jeonghan paused at your sudden revelation. "Seungcheol met my father..." you trailed off, your words laden with a mix of confusion and amusement.

"Did he?" Jeonghan inquired, his interest piqued as he waited for you to continue.

You nodded slowly, your eyelids drooping with fatigue. "My father asked nurses to call him, thinking that Seungcheol is my husband," you explained, a soft chuckle escaping your lips.

Jeonghan observed you closely, noting the effort you were making to stay awake despite the overwhelming urge to sleep. A fond smile tugged at his lips as he watched you pout and sigh, shifting your body to face him.

"He doesn't know anything about my father's condition," you continued, your words coming out in a sleepy haze. Jeonghan nodded in understanding, recalling the conversation from their wedding day.

"However, his mother came to me two years ago though, offering money for my father's surgery. With the condition that I have to leave Seungcheol. Very funny!" you chuckled again, but this time Jeonghan's expression darkened with concern at the revelation.

The weight of your words settled heavily on his shoulders, a mixture of empathy and anger coursing through him as he processed the gravity of the situation.

Seungcheol's mother was trying to bribe you?

"Is that why you left him?" Jeonghan questioned gently, his gaze meeting yours as you suddenly opened your eyes. Before he could register your response, your hand flew to punch his thigh as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"He left me, you asshole!" The words stung, a reminder of the pain you had endured.

Jeonghan sighed, reaching out to pull the comforter tighter around your body as you shifted into a more comfortable position. "Is that why you had so much debt? You paid for his surgery with all of it?" he asked, his tone laced with concern.

Another punch landed on his thigh, and he winced slightly. "Leave me and my financial issues alone!" you snapped, your frustration evident.

Jeonghan couldn't help but smile at your feistiness, even in your tired state. Playfully, he tugged at the comforter before speaking softly, "Sleep, Y/n. Let's talk later."

"Same goes for you. Sleep," you retorted, your eyes drifting closed once more as exhaustion claimed you.

With a tender smile, Jeonghan watched over you for a moment longer before quietly slipping out of the room, leaving you to rest peacefully.

Jeonghan sat in his home office, the weight of the revelation swirling in his mind like a tempest. Two years ago, tragedy had struck your family, leaving your parents and uncle in an accident that claimed the lives of your mother and uncle. Your father had endured numerous surgeries in order to reclaim a semblance of normalcy in his life.

As he mulled over the details, Jeonghan couldn't help but consider the implications of Seungcheol's departure. The offer of financial assistance from Seungcheol's mother, coupled with the request for you to leave Seungcheol, painted a troubling picture. Yet, the fact remained that it was Seungcheol who had ultimately chosen to end the relationship, leaving behind a whirlwind of unanswered questions.

Jeonghan sighed heavily, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. Despite his efforts to refocus on the task at hand, his mind kept drifting back to you and the weight of your words echoing in his head. Your gentle reminders to prioritize rest and balance in life resonated with him, especially as he grappled with the toll that his demanding schedule was taking on his health.

Glancing at the report laid out before him, Jeonghan felt a pang of guilt for neglecting your advice. It was his habit to meticulously review documents ahead of time, yet tonight, his thoughts were consumed by thoughts of you and the need for a reprieve from his relentless workload.

With a resigned sigh, Jeonghan made a silent decision to heed your wisdom. Pushing the report aside, he rose from his chair, intent on joining you in bed. It was time to prioritize his well-being and find a better balance between work and life, before the weight of his responsibilities crushed him under their burden.

The board meeting concluded with a sense of accomplishment for Jeonghan, as his aspirations had been acknowledged and discussed. As the potential leader, he felt a surge of validation, especially since his concerns about Seungcheol were taken seriously, prompting the board to reconsider their choices. However, amidst the professional triumph, a familial encounter awaited.

Standing alongside Seungcheol, Jeonghan respectfully bowed as his grandfather passed by, a gesture that held both reverence and a hint of tension. His grandfather's inquiry about Ji Kyungyi, your father-in-law, shifted the atmosphere, injecting a dose of personal concern into the formal setting.

Reflecting on the family dinner preceding the wedding, where you were introduced to his grandfather under strained circumstances, Jeonghan couldn't shake the memory. Despite the facade of formality, he knew the truth: you and his grandfather were already acquainted, your past engagement to Seungcheol adding layers of complexity to the situation.

The unease simmered beneath the surface as his grandfather's inquiry hinted at deeper familial rifts and unresolved tensions. Jeonghan's instincts had warned him of this possibility, recognizing the potential for misunderstandings fueled by Seungcheol's parents' influence post-separation.

"Actually, grandfather," Jeonghan began, his tone carrying a weight of revelation, "Y/n's father has a history with you." With a deep breath, he prepared to play a card he had been holding close.

"Y/n's grandfather, Hwang Daekhwi, was your best friend," Jeonghan continued, his words poised to unravel the tightly woven threads of the past, "and her father, Ji Kyungyi, was one of the investors in your first-ever resort project. Do you remember?"

The truth hung heavy in the air, casting a new light on the dynamics at play. Your familial ties to his grandfather's past endeavors unveiled a deeper connection, one that had remained obscured until now. The accident two years ago, a seismic event that reshaped your family's fortunes, added another layer of complexity to the narrative. The loss of your rightful inheritance, coupled with the struggle to navigate the unforgiving terrain of the business world, painted a picture of resilience in the face of adversity.

Jeonghan watched as his grandfather's expression shifted, the realization dawning upon him like a sudden revelation. The lines of recognition etched themselves onto his features, mingling with a newfound sense of empathy.

"I'm so sorry for what had happened to you, dear," his grandfather murmured, the words carrying the weight of regret for past oversights.

As the truth settled, Jeonghan seized the moment, recognizing the opportunity for reconciliation and restitution. "That lawyer in your law firm, Hong Joshua, isn't it? You should help her get her rightful place back," he urged, his voice tinged with a mix of determination and compassion. "Please, make yourself at home."

In that moment, amidst the echoes of the past and the promise of a hopeful future, bridges were built, and alliances forged, as the intricacies of familial ties intertwined with the bonds of compassion and understanding.

Since that pivotal moment, Jeonghan felt a newfound confidence coursing through him. He was certain he could navigate this intricate game and emerge victorious.

"He's recovering very well after his surgery, grandfather," Jeonghan relayed the reassuring news about your father's condition to his grandfather. A nod of acknowledgment and a comforting pat on their shoulders followed from the elder gentleman before he departed, leaving Jeonghan and Seungcheol momentarily alone.

Seungcheol's gaze bore into Jeonghan's, a silent invitation to converse away from prying ears. "Let's talk," he proposed, a hint of urgency underlying his words.

Jeonghan glanced at his watch, his excuse at the ready. "I'm afraid I can't," he regretfully replied, though a knowing smirk betrayed his true intentions. It was a subtle game of manipulation, one that Seungcheol was all too familiar with.

"I just want to know about father's condition," Seungcheol clarified his intentions, yet Jeonghan's attention snagged on the word 'father', a subtle jab that didn't escape his notice.

"Bold of you to call MY father-in-law 'father'," Jeonghan teased lightly, his lips quirking into a smirk that danced with mischief.

Undeterred, Seungcheol pressed on, revealing a piece of information that tugged at Jeonghan's curiosity. "I was called by the hospital a week ago. He's been in a nursing home for almost two years," he disclosed, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.

Jeonghan absorbed the revelation with a nod of acknowledgment, his expression solemn as he processed the implications. "What happened to him?" Seungcheol's inquiry pierced through the air, laden with a sense of urgency and genuine concern.

With a heavy sigh, Jeonghan met Seungcheol's gaze head-on, his resolve firm. "I'm sorry, but it's not my place to tell you," he asserted, his words tinged with a hint of regret.

Seungcheol's own sigh mirrored Jeonghan's, a shared frustration at the barriers erected between them. "Y/n didn't want to tell me either," he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation.

Jeonghan arched an eyebrow, his gaze probing. "Then there must be a reason, mustn't there?" he remarked cryptically before bidding Seungcheol farewell with a wave, leaving the weight of unspoken truths lingering in the air between them.

Jeonghan had made a mental note to visit your father after his meeting, realizing he hadn't spent much time playing chess with him lately. The obligation to care for their respective families was written in the contract, a duty he took seriously. Ensuring your father received the best treatment for his health was a priority for Jeonghan, a testament to his commitment to family.

While Jeonghan attended to familial responsibilities, you lent your support by focusing on Mingyu and his adolescent struggles. Your efforts in guiding Mingyu through his high school years had yielded noticeable progress, with his behavior towards Jeonghan showing marked improvement. The absence of a mother figure in Mingyu's life had left him craving attention, a void you filled admirably.

Jeonghan couldn't help but feel grateful for your competence in handling Mingyu's upbringing. Your dedication to nurturing his growth was evident, and Jeonghan found solace in knowing that Mingyu was in capable hands.

Amidst familial duties, Jeonghan also juggled professional endeavors alongside Joshua, his lawyer friend. Their collaboration aimed to secure your rightful shares in your grandfather's company, now overseen by the board. It was a challenging task, fraught with obstacles, yet Joshua's expertise offered a glimmer of hope. With their efforts, there was a possibility of securing up to 30% of your rightful shares—a significant victory in the making.

Despite his admiration for your teaching profession, Jeonghan couldn't shake the nagging question of why you hadn't pursued a career in business, following in your parents' footsteps. He saw your potential, creativity, and innovation, yet sensed a hesitation to take risks. Nevertheless, Jeonghan made it clear that he was willing to support any decision you made, even if it meant switching paths to become a businessman.

Reviewing your proposal for the skincare industry—a project he had requested—Jeonghan couldn't help but be impressed by your thoroughness and ingenuity. He teasingly suggested that you join his company instead of continuing as Mingyu's Korean teacher, only to be met with a playful rebuke from you.

"We're all speaking Korean already. Do we really need to bother learning it?" Jeonghan quipped, before being promptly silenced by your playful retort.

You had vented to Jeonghan about the challenges of being a teacher, expressing the exhaustion of shouldering immense responsibility without proportional compensation. Dramatically, you described how the fees didn't match the blood, sweat, and tears you poured into your dedication. Jeonghan listened attentively, though admittedly, he struggled to fully grasp the intricacies of the education system. After all, wasn't Seungcheol the chairman of your school? Why hadn't he raised the teachers' fees?

The thought crossed Jeonghan's mind: perhaps he should start an education foundation and put you in charge. Given your track record and performance, you'd undoubtedly excel in such a role. Yet, as he stood outside your father's nursery room, he shook his head, berating himself for overthinking your future when your marriage was purely contractual. "I must be crazy," he mused inwardly.

"Good afternoon, father. I'm Yoon Jeonghan, Y/n's husband," he greeted warmly as he entered the room, finding your father seated in front of his chessboard.

Your father looked up with a smile, welcoming Jeonghan with open arms. "Oh, Yoon son-in-law. Come join me!" he beckoned, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

A smile automatically spread across Jeonghan's face at the genuine warmth of your father's reception. Despite the complexities of their familial arrangement, moments like these reminded Jeonghan of the genuine connections that transcended mere contracts. As he settled in beside your father for a game of chess, he found solace in the simple pleasures of camaraderie and companionship.

"Is it your first time?" Jeonghan's voice whispered near your ear as you both stepped into the opulent ballroom where the charity event, hosted by the Jeon Family, was taking place. He looked dashing in his navy suit with a baby blue shirt, a combination that perfectly complemented your own attire—a stunning off-shoulder dress with elbow-length sleeves, elegantly matching his ensemble. Jeonghan mentally made a note to thank Jihoon, his secretary, later for selecting such a perfect dress that accentuated your beauty and drew attention to you as the two of you entered the room.

His arm naturally found its place around your waist as you navigated through the crowd to greet the host.

"No, I've been to several events like this with my father," you replied to Jeonghan's question, your voice tinged with a hint of familiarity with such affairs.

"Is he a friend or a foe?" you inquired, your curiosity piqued as you were introduced to Jeon Wonwoo, the host of the evening. Jeonghan couldn't help but chuckle at your straightforwardness. "Where did you learn that question?" he teased gently, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Just answer me," you demanded, your tone firm and unwavering.

Jeonghan smiled, amused by your determination. "Friend of a foe," he replied cryptically, knowing that the complexities of relationships in high society were often difficult to decipher.

You sighed in frustration, recalling Wonwoo's connection to Seungcheol as his college friend. "Right? I knew he's Seungcheol's college friend. I think I've met him," you muttered, feeling a twinge of annoyance at the implications.

Jeonghan nodded in understanding, his gaze lingering on your face with a mixture of empathy and reassurance. "I could tell. He seemed taken aback when I introduced you," he remarked, subtly acknowledging the tension in the air.

Reaching for a glass of wine offered by a passing server, Jeonghan silently offered you some, but you declined with a shake of your head.

"However, who cares, right?" Jeonghan's tone was light, his words carrying an air of nonchalance as he took a sip of his wine, his eyes meeting yours with an assurance that eased your worries.

As if summoned by the mention of his name, Seungcheol strode into the scene, exuding charisma in his dark grey suit. His entrance commanded attention, and your eyes involuntarily darted towards Jeonghan, meeting his gaze. A blush crept onto your cheeks as you realized he might have caught you staring at Seungcheol. Sensing your discomfort, Jeonghan's brows raised in silent inquiry before his arm enveloped your left side, pulling you closer to him. His touch was reassuring, a silent declaration of his presence by your side as Seungcheol approached.

Seungcheol effortlessly navigated the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and accepting handshakes with ease. His eyes found yours briefly, accompanied by a charming smile, before he addressed Jeonghan. "I heard Mingyu will represent Seoul for the basketball national player selection in Busan this week," he remarked, a genuine note of pride evident in his voice.

Seungcheol loves basketball.

Jeonghan nodded proudly, acknowledging his nephew's achievements. "Yeah, really proud of him. Y/n has played a huge role there," he replied, turning his gaze towards you with a soft smile, a silent acknowledgment of your contributions.

Seungcheol's gaze shifted back to yours, his tone casual yet tinged with subtle observation. "I can see," he remarked, a hint of nostalgia coloring his words. "You used to have no idea how amazing Mingyu could play."

Before the conversation could delve deeper, Seungcheol changed the topic, steering towards the subject of marriage. You sensed a subtle shift in Jeonghan's demeanor, an underlying tension that threatened to surface. His gaze, once warm, now held a hint of irritation directed towards Seungcheol, a testament to the unresolved feelings lingering between them.

Smiling reassuringly, you reached out to touch Jeonghan's chest, your gesture a silent reassurance of your unity. "It's wonderful," you affirmed confidently, your eyes locking with Jeonghan's, seeking solace in his unwavering support.

"Jeonghan is an amazing husband," you continued, your voice filled with conviction. "I'm so happy that I married him."

Seungcheol blinked, momentarily taken aback by your assertiveness, before nodding silently. "Great to hear that," he replied, a hint of resignation coloring his tone. "I should greet the host," he added, raising his wine glass in a small gesture of acknowledgment before excusing himself.

As Seungcheol walked away, Jeonghan's frustration boiled over, his eyes narrowing with suppressed anger. "I was near to punch him," he muttered, his voice laced with irritation as he closed his eyes, attempting to regain his composure.

You chuckled softly, sensing the tension dissipating. "I can see you flying over to him and punching him in the face earlier," you teased lightly, a hint of amusement in your tone as you offered a moment of levity amidst the lingering animosity.

The night stretched on, with Jeonghan engulfed in conversations with businessmen, leaving you to navigate the socialite crowd alone, feeling like a fish out of water. Eventually, you found yourself standing outside the ballroom, seeking solace in the quietude of the night and the serene view through the window. Lost in your thoughts, you were startled by the approach of a familiar figure, hands casually tucked into his pockets, his presence both unexpected and unwelcome.

Closing your eyes briefly, you hoped it was merely a figment of your imagination, but the sound of your name being called confirmed his presence.

"Can we talk?" Seungcheol's voice broke through the silence, his words hanging in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions.

You sighed, turning to face him, the weight of his gaze meeting yours. Despite yourself, a flutter of butterflies stirred within you, though you couldn't discern if it was from excitement or apprehension.

"We're talking," you replied curtly, a hint of defiance lacing your tone.

Seungcheol nodded, his expression reflecting a mixture of regret and uncertainty. "I'm sorry," he began, his words tumbling out in a rush. "I'm sorry that I don't know what happened to your father. I've only heard about the losses you've endured—your mother, your uncle, and the survival of your father."

His confession hung in the air, laden with the weight of unspoken regrets. "I was surprised when your father mistook me for your husband at your wedding, and it's been weighing on me ever since," he continued, his voice laced with genuine remorse.

"When I received the call from the nursery house, I was so confused," Seungcheol admitted, his tone tinged with vulnerability. "But I was grateful for the opportunity to finally speak to your father again."

"I'm sorry because I wasn't there when all of this happened. I'm very—" Seungcheol's words faltered as he struggled to find the right expression of remorse.

Interrupting him, you cut to the chase, your voice tinged with frustration. "What are you trying to say, Seungcheol?"

A pregnant pause hung between you, the weight of the unspoken conversation pressing down on both of you. Seungcheol bit his lip, his gaze dropping as he struggled to articulate his thoughts. With a heavy sigh, he shook his head in defeat.

"I don't know," he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, uncertainty clouding his features.

Taking a step forward, you narrowed your brow, your gaze piercing as you studied him intently. "Seungcheol, you're never this confused," you observed, a note of concern creeping into your tone as you searched for clarity in his eyes.

"I know," he replied softly, his admission underscoring the depth of his inner turmoil.

"Why are you so... confused?" You questioned, your voice tinged with a mix of frustration and hurt. "You've always been eager. You weren't this confused when you broke our engagement two years ago. You were very determined to choose your career over me. Why confused now, Choi Seungcheol?"

Seungcheol's response was heavy with emotion, his voice strained as he struggled to contain his feelings. "Because I still care about you, a lot," he admitted, his words hanging in the air like a heavy weight.

"Actually, the feeling is still the same. It never fades," he added softly, his admission piercing through the defenses you had carefully constructed.

You scoffed, a defense mechanism kicking in, but deep down, your heart clenched painfully at his words. Determined to put an end to the conversation, you took a step away, wanting to distance yourself from his emotional turmoil. However, a firm grip around your hand halted your retreat as Seungcheol spoke once more.

"I know you feel it too," he asserted, his gaze searching yours for confirmation.

His words echoed in the silence, reverberating through your thoughts as memories of the past flooded back. Seungcheol's admission of regret pierced through the walls you had erected around your heart, stirring emotions you had long buried.

Closing your eyes tightly, you fought against the tears threatening to spill over, the weight of Seungcheol's words bearing down on you. But just as despair threatened to consume you, a familiar warmth enveloped you, pulling you into a comforting embrace.

Jeonghan's presence washed over you like a lifeline, his familiar scent grounding you in the present moment. His protective stance against Seungcheol's lingering presence provided a shield from the emotional turmoil swirling around you.

"Stop your bullshit or I'll punch you in the face," Jeonghan's voice cut through the tension, his words laced with a fierce protectiveness that made your heart swell with gratitude.

Turning to face you, Jeonghan gently cupped your face in his hands, his touch tender and reassuring. "Let's go home," he whispered softly, his words a beacon of solace in the midst of turmoil, offering you the comfort and security you desperately needed in that moment.

As you arrived home, the weight of the evening's emotional turmoil lingered in the air, casting a shadow over the silence between you and Jeonghan. He watched quietly as you collapsed onto the couch, the exhaustion and frustration evident in the heaviness of your sighs as you kicked off your heels.

Taking a seat across from you, Jeonghan observed your struggles with a furrowed brow, his heart aching at the sight of your frustration boiling over into tears. He despised seeing you in such distress, yet felt powerless to ease your pain.

Your sobs tugged at Jeonghan's heartstrings, drawing his attention with a mixture of concern and determination. Squatting in front of you, he gently lifted your hands away from your tear-streaked face, his touch gentle and reassuring.

"Hey, it's okay. You're with me," Jeonghan whispered softly, his words a soothing balm to your troubled soul.

Uncertain of how to comfort you further, Jeonghan instinctively pulled you into his embrace, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth and security. He felt your sobs intensify against his chest, each one a painful reminder of the depth of your distress.

Jeonghan's hand found its way to your hair, his fingers tenderly tracing soothing patterns as he offered a comforting pat on the head. Gradually, the weight of your emotions seemed to overwhelm you, lulling you into a fitful sleep within the safety of his arms.

When Jeonghan awoke the next morning, you were nowhere to be found. Rushing to get ready for work, his mind buzzed with a whirlwind of thoughts, each one centered around you. The events of the previous night replayed in his mind like a broken record, leaving him grappling with conflicting emotions.

Watching you confront Seungcheol had filled him with pride, admiring your strength and courage in the face of adversity. Yet, a sense of protectiveness stirred within him as he remembered Seungcheol's unwanted touch, his instinct to shield you from further harm overwhelming his rational thoughts.

There was a part of Jeonghan that longed to keep your vulnerability to himself, a desire to protect you from the pain of exposing your innermost struggles to others. It was a sentiment he couldn't quite comprehend, yet one that tugged at his heartstrings with undeniable force, leaving him grappling with the complexities of his own emotions in the wake of your shared turmoil.

Later that night, Jeonghan stumbled upon you sitting on the kitchen barstool, a familiar bottle of liquor resting on the counter before you. The sight of the alcohol stirred memories of your first encounter with Jeonghan, a bittersweet reminder of the journey you had traveled together.

Exhausted yet unable to ignore your distress, Jeonghan veered away from the bedroom and approached you instead. Without hesitation, he snatched your glass, draining its contents before disposing of it and the bottle in the sink. You protested weakly, but the effects of the alcohol had already begun to blur your senses, leaving you in a state of intoxication.

"Let's sleep," Jeonghan suggested gently, his voice laced with concern as he sought to ease your troubled mind.

"No!" you objected stubbornly, your defiance evident even in your inebriated state.

"Why? Tomorrow is a long day," Jeonghan reasoned, his exhaustion palpable as he attempted to coax you into rest.

You nodded slowly, acknowledging the truth in his words. "I know," you conceded quietly.

As Jeonghan studied your flushed face, he couldn't help but marvel at your beauty, even in the simplicity of your pajamas. With a tender touch, he scooped you up into his arms, recognizing your inability to navigate the stairs in your current state, and carried you to bed.

Gently laying you down, Jeonghan's fingers traced the tear stains on your cheeks, his heart clenching at the sight of your silent sorrow. "What's bothering you, Y/n?" he inquired softly, his concern evident in his voice.

"Nothing," you replied with a sigh, a sense of resignation coloring your words.

"Then why were you crying?" Jeonghan pressed further, his gaze searching yours for answers.

You hesitated before finally speaking, your words tinged with bitterness. "You won't care," you murmured, your voice heavy with the weight of past wounds.

"I care for you," Jeonghan insisted earnestly, his sincerity evident in the warmth of his gaze.

You scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. "That's what that bastard Seungcheol said. But he still left me. Left me alone and cold," you confessed, the pain of abandonment still raw in your heart.

Meeting your gaze, Jeonghan's eyes softened with empathy. "I'm not Seungcheol," he reminded you gently, his touch reassuring as he caught your trembling finger.

"I don't say you're Seungcheol," you countered, your voice tinged with frustration.

"Stop comparing me to him."

"Then what should I do?" you asked, your voice laced with uncertainty.

Jeonghan's gaze drifted down to your lips, a fleeting moment of hesitation passing between you before he met your eyes once more. "Just take this and forget him," he whispered, his breath mingling with yours in the intimate space between you.

As Jeonghan's intrusive thoughts overpowered his rationality, he yielded to the overwhelming desire pulsating within him. With a surge of longing, he crashed his lips against yours, surrendering to the intoxicating taste of alcohol lingering on your lips. In that fleeting moment, the world around them dissolved into nothingness, leaving only the fiery passion igniting between them.

Your hands instinctively found their way into his hair, fingers weaving through the soft strands as Jeonghan deepened the kiss with fervent determination. What had begun as a mere release of frustration swiftly evolved into a fervent display of raw passion, each brush of your lips against his sending sparks of electricity coursing through his veins.

Jeonghan's rationality dissolved in the heat of the moment, his mind consumed by the overwhelming desire to alleviate your worries and drown out the echoes of your past pain. In this embrace, he found solace in the warmth of your touch, a silent vow to stand by your side and shield you from the storms that threatened to engulf your heart.

For now, there was only the fiery passion that bound you together, a testament to the depth of your connection and the unspoken longing that pulsed beneath the surface. In this stolen moment, Jeonghan cast aside all semblance of reason, allowing his heart to guide him as he sought to erase your troubles with the fervent intensity of his love.

Jeonghan woke up with a hollow ache in his chest, the absence of your warmth beside him amplifying the emptiness he felt. The memory of last night's intimate moments with you lingered, but now he found himself alone in the morning light, as if what you shared had meant nothing to you. His mind wandered back to the first time you met, remembering how he had left you then, and now he understood the pang of abandonment you must have felt when he slipped away after your passionate encounter.

Walking into the kitchen, Jeonghan's heart sank as he realized he was the only one there. The usual morning routine of breakfast with you and Mingyu was disrupted, leaving him feeling even more isolated. "Mrs. Ji and Mr. Kim were heading to Busan early this morning," the emptiness of the kitchen echoed with the reminder of your absence.

Nodding absentmindedly, Jeonghan's hand instinctively reached for his phone, a desperate urge to reach out to you tugging at his heartstrings. But then, a wave of uncertainty washed over him, and he hesitated. Instead of sending a text, he opted to call you, craving the sound of your voice more than anything. Each ring felt like an eternity, his heart pounding in anticipation until finally, he heard the soft click of you picking up the phone, and the warmth of your greeting flooded his senses, momentarily soothing the ache in his soul.

"You two arrived already?" Jeonghan's voice trembled slightly with anticipation as he awaited your response.

"Just arrived, we stopped at the rest area for breakfast. Your nephew is a big eater, he couldn't skip a meal," your voice came through the phone, sounding unchanged, which brought a sense of relief to Jeonghan's troubled heart.

"Okay, update me, alright?" Jeonghan requested, trying to keep his tone casual despite the turmoil swirling inside him.

"Sure... Wanna talk to Mingyu?" you offered, your usual thoughtfulness shining through even in the midst of their conversation.

Before Jeonghan could respond, Mingyu's voice burst through the line, filled with excitement and nerves. "Uncle, wish me luck!"

"You'll do great, buddy," Jeonghan reassured him, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. There was a brief pause, during which Jeonghan could almost feel the weight of Mingyu's uncertainty hanging in the air.

"He sounds genuine... He's never like that with me," Mingyu's voice carried a hint of surprise as he confided in you, prompting a chuckle from Jeonghan.

"You promised me you'd bring that national player home," Jeonghan reminded Mingyu playfully, a warmth spreading through him at the sound of Mingyu's excitement as he promised to fulfill his uncle's request once he returned.

Later that day, you sent him a few photos of Mingyu during the selection, and Jeonghan kindly forwarded them to his parents, wanting to keep them in the loop about their grandson's achievements. However, as the night wore on, you informed him of the heavy rain in Busan, preventing your return to Seoul. Instead, you decided to stay the night in Busan and head back in the morning.

"That's better. Let me know when you're heading back," Jeonghan replied, a sense of relief washing over him knowing you would be safe for the night.

You hummed in acknowledgment, but before you could end the call, Jeonghan heard Mingyu sighing in the background, his voice carrying a hint of teasing annoyance. "I know you two were away, but can you stop being lovey-dovey when I'm around?"

Jeonghan chuckled softly at his nephew's playful protest, the warmth of family bonds soothing his troubled thoughts. However, his curiosity piqued as he overheard Mingyu and you discussing your health check-up results from the hospital.

"You checked too? Why didn't you tell me?" Jeonghan interjected, surprised by the revelation.

"It was Mingyu's idea because he didn't want to be alone. It was supposed to be sent this afternoon. Can you send me the picture of Mingyu's one? I should send it to the committee," you explained, your voice filled with concern and consideration for Mingyu's well-being.

"Hmm... I'll send it. Have a rest, okay?" Jeonghan reassured you, a sense of gratitude flooding his heart for your care towards Mingyu, even in his absence.

Jeonghan hurriedly checked the mailbox and retrieved Mingyu's and your health check-up results. With a quick glance, he opened Mingyu's envelope and snapped a picture of the document before sending it to you. Then, his curiosity got the better of him, and he couldn't resist opening your envelope as well.

As he scanned through your results, a swell of pride filled Jeonghan's heart. The report was a testament to your dedication to maintaining a healthy lifestyle through daily workouts and balanced nutrition. He remembered the strength and vitality he had witnessed in your body, making it evident that you were in excellent health.

However, as Jeonghan continued to read, his eyes widened in surprise. Amidst the obstetric history section, he felt a rush of relief upon seeing that you were not pregnant. Yet, his relief was short-lived as he stumbled upon something he couldn't comprehend, something that made his heart skip a beat as he carefully read through the results.

Jeonghan's mind raced as he read and reread the results, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar term that appeared on the paper. A sense of unease settled in the pit of his stomach as he realized there was something he didn't know about you, something hidden beneath the surface of your seemingly perfect health.

Jeonghan stood outside Seungcheol's office, his hand hesitating on the doorknob. It had been years since he last stepped foot in this place, memories flooding back with each passing moment. With a deep breath, he pushed the door open, revealing Seungcheol's surprised expression.

Seungcheol blinked, momentarily taken aback by his cousin's unexpected visit. "Jeonghan? What brings you here after all this time? Do you have news for me?"

Jeonghan remained silent, his gaze piercing as he met Seungcheol's eyes. There was a simmering anger behind his stoic expression, a resentment that had been brewing for years.

"Have you finally discovered that I was the one who was engaged to your wife before you?" Seungcheol's voice was tinged with a hint of bitterness, his own emotions swirling beneath the surface.

Jeonghan's jaw clenched, struggling to contain the surge of fury threatening to spill over. With a controlled exhale, he hummed in response, his voice laced with restrained anger. "I also happen to know that you were the one who foolishly ended that engagement."

The air crackled with tension as the two cousins faced each other, years of unresolved emotions hanging heavily between them. Jeonghan's visit had reopened old wounds, stirring up a whirlwind of conflicting feelings that neither of them could ignore.

"Choosing career over a woman sounds like investing in a risky business when you were already offered a great and amazing business project," Jeonghan remarked, his words dripping with disdain. The resentment in his voice was palpable as he looked at Seungcheol.

Seungcheol felt his anger bubbling up within him, Jeonghan's accusation striking a nerve. His jaw tightened as he struggled to maintain his composure in the face of his cousin's cutting words.

"I'm glad the board is considering the future of the company again," Jeonghan continued, his tone carrying a note of satisfaction. It was clear he took pleasure in the implication that Seungcheol's decisions had jeopardized the company's success.

Seungcheol clenched his fists, his frustration mounting with each passing moment. Jeonghan's presence was like a thorn in his side, dredging up painful memories and reigniting old conflicts.

"What do you want, Yoon Jeonghan?" Seungcheol's voice was terse, his eyes narrowing as he met his cousin's gaze. He braced himself for whatever confrontation lay ahead, steeling himself for the storm that was about to come.

"I personally ask you to stop confronting my wife. What happened at the Jeon Charity Ball is the last time," Jeonghan asserted, his voice carrying a note of finality.

Seungcheol tilted his head, a sly smirk creeping onto his lips. "You seemed annoyed by what happened that night. You're not that confident?"

Jeonghan's facade remained unyielding as he responded with casual indifference, "I don't know what you're talking about."

A knowing glint flickered in Seungcheol's eyes as he pressed on, his tone laced with subtle provocation. "You saw that too, right? She was confused. She also feels the same thing that night."

Jeonghan's mask slipped for a moment, a fleeting glimpse of uncertainty crossing his features before he masked it with practiced ease. "You're afraid if she actually chooses me, right?" Seungcheol's words cut through the tension like a knife, his challenge hanging in the air between them, a silent dare to acknowledge the truth they both knew but refused to confront.

Jeonghan drew in a deep breath, his hand trembling slightly as it reached into his inner pocket. With deliberate care, he withdrew an envelope, the weight of its contents palpable in the air between them.

"No, she hates you. And this explains a lot," Jeonghan declared, his voice tinged with a mixture of accusation and resignation.

Seungcheol's brows furrowed in confusion as he accepted the envelope, his curiosity piqued. With cautious fingers, he tore it open, revealing its contents with growing bewilderment.

"What's this?" Seungcheol questioned, his gaze flicking between the papers and Jeonghan's inscrutable expression.

Jeonghan took a steadying breath before speaking, his voice laced with a hint of bitterness. "Her obstetric history says she's currently not pregnant. And she had one miscarriage."

The weight of Jeonghan's words hung heavy in the air, the truth they carried sinking in with a sickening realization.

"What do you mean?" Seungcheol's voice wavered slightly, his mind reeling with the implications of what he was hearing.

"She was pregnant with your child when you left her," Jeonghan stated matter-of-factly, his words cutting through the tension like a knife.

Seungcheol felt the blood drain from his face as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, the enormity of his actions crashing down on him like a tidal wave.

"Her miscarriage date was after the car accident, which means she could have suffered the pregnancy loss due to the stress of having to face all of that alone," Jeonghan continued, his voice heavy with condemnation.

Jeonghan rose from the couch, his movements swift and purposeful as he buttoned his suit jacket. "I don't want to see you face her again," he declared, his tone final.

Seungcheol's heart sank as he realized the depth of his betrayal, the magnitude of the pain he had caused crashing over him like a wave of guilt and remorse.

"If you confront her again, I could destroy all of this," Jeonghan warned, gesturing to Seungcheol's office, a stark reminder of the consequences that loomed over them both.

As Jeonghan made his way to his office, his phone buzzed with a message from Mingyu. He glanced down to see a photo of Mingyu beaming widely, seated beside you who were driving, with a caption that read, "a photo of a national player and his aunt driving." A warm smile spread across Jeonghan's face, and he immediately tapped the call button.

A cheerful tone greeted him as Mingyu answered the call. Jeonghan wasted no time in asking about Mingyu's whereabouts, and Mingyu kindly explained that he had just left the rest area.

Jeonghan chuckled as he heard you mumbling about his nephew's big appetite agenda. "Are you going to live in the center then?" Jeonghan inquired, curiosity lacing his voice as Mingyu outlined his plans after securing a slot as a national player.

"Yup, starting in a week. I'm glad the center is in Seoul," Mingyu replied, relief evident in his voice.

"You're so full of energy, Mingyu. Tone down a bit for my wife," Jeonghan teased playfully.

Mingyu let out a deep sigh, but a grin quickly replaced it. "Aunt has said that to me a hundred times," he admitted, "but I take it as a compliment." There was a warmth in Mingyu's voice, a genuine affection for the bond he shared with Jeonghan and you.

"Did she rest well last night? She has been super busy with—" Jeonghan's words hung in the air, abruptly cut off by the sound of Mingyu's panicked shout and the jarring noise of cars colliding.

Jeonghan's heart leaped into his throat as he stared at his phone screen, the call still connected but met with eerie silence on the other end. "Kim Mingyu, answer me," he urged, desperation creeping into his voice.

Lee Jihoon, Jeonghan's secretary who sat beside the driver, glanced at him through the rearview mirror, concern etched on his face. "What happened, sir?"

Jeonghan's gaze flicked to Jihoon, his voice strained with worry. "Can you look for a car crash on the Busan-Seoul road? I think my wife and my nephew—" His words trailed off, fear gripping him as he imagined the worst.

"Uncle, uncle," Mingyu's voice crackled through the phone's speaker, cutting through the tension like a lifeline.

Jeonghan's breath caught in his chest as he frantically responded to Mingyu's voice. "We're fine," Mingyu reassured him, his breath coming in short gasps. "Cars in front of us crashed, but aunt managed to avoid it," he explained, relief flooding Jeonghan's veins like a soothing balm.

"Are you guys okay?" Jeonghan's voice quivered with concern, his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for Mingyu's response.

There was a brief pause before Mingyu's voice crackled through the phone, strained but steady. "I'm fine," he assured Jeonghan.

"But I think aunt needs help," Mingyu continued, his words weighted with worry. Jeonghan's frustration surged, his mind racing with thoughts of you in distress.

With a determined exhale, Jeonghan clenched his jaw, his resolve hardening. "Send me your location," he instructed firmly, his voice carrying a sense of urgency. "I'll go there." The gravity of the situation spurred him into action, his only thought now to reach your side as quickly as possible.

Jeonghan bolted when he caught sight of Mingyu seated beside you on one of the benches in the rest area. Mingyu sprang to his feet as soon as he saw his uncle, his relief palpable. Meanwhile, you remained seated calmly, unnoticed by Jeonghan, who was focused on his nephew's well-being.

"Are you okay?" Jeonghan's voice trembled slightly as he examined Mingyu's body for any signs of injury. Mingyu nodded reassuringly, but then turned his head towards you, subtly signaling to Jeonghan that the car crash had affected you more than him.

Jeonghan approached you cautiously, his heart pounding with a mixture of concern and guilt. Your eyes flickered with surprise as you realized his presence, and a wave of emotions washed over you – relief that he was safe, worry for your own condition, and a hint of apprehension about what the aftermath of the accident might entail.

Jeonghan squatted in front of you, his hands tenderly cupping your cheeks as he examined your body for any signs of harm. "Are you okay?" His voice was filled with genuine concern, his eyes searching yours for reassurance.

You nodded slowly, grateful for his comforting presence amidst the chaos. With a gentle sigh of relief, Jeonghan pulled you into a warm embrace, enveloping you in his protective arms. "You're okay, I'm here," he murmured softly, his words a soothing balm to your rattled nerves.

Jeonghan instructed his driver to take control of your car while Jihoon, Mingyu, you and he made their way back home. Mingyu observed both Jeonghan and you through the rearview mirror, noticing how you slept peacefully in Jeonghan's arms while he appeared to drift off as well, exhaustion evident on his features.

Curious, Mingyu leaned forward and whispered to Jihoon, "Have you ever seen my uncle like this before?"

Jihoon shook his head, his eyes focused on the road ahead. "Nope, never. This is the first time he's taken a day off, skipped a meeting, and... he looks happy."

Mingyu nodded thoughtfully, a small smile playing on his lips. "My uncle indeed seems happier these days," he mused, feeling a sense of contentment knowing that Jeonghan was finding joy amidst the chaos of everyday life.

Jeonghan had already notified the school about yesterday's accident, ensuring both you and Mingyu were excused from attending today. Meanwhile, he hurriedly sent a text to Jihoon, rearranging his schedule for the day. Taking a day off to care for you was his priority, especially after the harrowing events of the previous day.

As he woke up with you nestled in his arms, a rare occurrence since your marriage four months ago, Jeonghan couldn't help but feel a rush of tenderness. Your serene sleeping face, untouched by the usual stress of waking hours, was a sight he cherished. It was a stark contrast to the survival mode you often found yourselves in when awake.

When your eyes fluttered open and you muttered about your shoulder hurting, Jeonghan's concern immediately surged. He leaned closer to hear you better, his heart clenching at the thought of you being injured. After confirming which shoulder was hurting, he gently examined it, silently hoping it wasn't serious. Your mention of turning the steering wheel too much during the accident only heightened his worry, but he masked it with a reassuring smile.

"You did a great job," he murmured softly, his hand brushing against yours. "Let's have breakfast and then we'll head to the hospital to get it checked."

With a nod of agreement, you both prepared for the day ahead, though the weight of yesterday's events still lingered in the air. As you sat down for breakfast, a mix of relief and apprehension filled the room, knowing that a trip to the hospital awaited.

In the dining room, the morning light cast a warm glow as you and Jeonghan joined Mingyu for breakfast. Jeonghan couldn't help but notice the genuine smile that graced your lips as you patted Mingyu's head, a silent exchange of affection between aunt and nephew. Mingyu leaned into you, a gesture that tugged at Jeonghan's heartstrings. He couldn't shake the worry that Mingyu would be devastated if he ever discovered the truth about your marriage being contractual. But for now, he pushed those thoughts aside, determined to savor the present moment and the happiness it brought.

"We're going to the hospital after this," Jeonghan mentioned to Mingyu, his voice carrying a hint of concern. Mingyu's immediate worry for you only reinforced Jeonghan's resolve to protect both of you from any further harm.

As you explained about your injured shoulder, Mingyu's apology weighed heavily in the air, but you quickly brushed it aside with a reassuring smile, urging him to focus on his practice. Jeonghan couldn't help but admire your resilience, your ability to put others' worries at ease even when facing your own discomfort.

Throughout breakfast, Jeonghan's mind raced with thoughts of the accident and its aftermath. He couldn't shake the memories of past tragedies involving car accidents, each one leaving a lasting scar on his heart. But amidst the turmoil, he found solace in being able to care for you, to ensure your well-being above all else.

After breakfast, you and Jeonghan made your way to the hospital. Entering the waiting room, the atmosphere shifted as Jeonghan engaged in small talk while waiting for your turn. Suddenly, someone called his name, and Jeonghan's demeanor shifted as he rose to greet Mr. and Mrs. Yang. Introducing you as his wife.

"Are you guys here for pre-natal care?" Jeonghan's words hung in the air as Mrs. Yang's assumption about prenatal care caught both of you off guard.

Jeonghan's swift denial masked a deeper discomfort, and as Mr. Yang commented on modern attitudes towards starting a family, Jeonghan's whispered reassurance hinted at a sensitivity he rarely showed.

"Why?"

Your questioning gaze only added to his unease, and his attempt to deflect the topic left you wondering about his sudden change in demeanor.

"It's just sensitive topic. Pregnancy.. For women, at least."

As you sat in the waiting room, waiting for your turn to be seen, the tension between you and Jeonghan lingered, unspoken words hanging in the air. Despite the uncertainty, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for his unwavering support, even in moments of vulnerability. And as you searched for answers in his troubled gaze, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his reaction than met the eye

"Where's my health results?" You approached Jeonghan, interrupting him as he busily signed some papers in the living room. His hand froze mid-signature at the mention of the envelope he had left at Seungcheol's office.

"I read it. You don't need it," Jeonghan replied casually, his attention divided between you and the papers.

You couldn't help but scoff at his dismissive tone. "That'll be for me to decide," you retorted firmly.

Jeonghan's expression softened as he realized the gravity of the situation. "I accidentally threw it in the bin, sorry," he admitted, a hint of regret in his voice.

"You're kidding me. I need it, Jeonghan," you demanded, frustration lacing your words.

Jeonghan let out a small scoff, not entirely convinced. "Don't lie to me, darling. You said you did the check-up for Mingyu."

You shook your head, feeling the weight of urgency pressing down on you. "No, I'm serious. I have to submit a health check-up result for my teaching certification."

A warm smile spread across Jeonghan's face as he realized the seriousness of your predicament. "Then you could redo the check-up," he suggested, his tone gentle and reassuring, offering a solution to ease your worries.

You rolled your eyes and plopped down beside him, refusing to let this go. "You're not stupid enough to accidentally throw it. Give it to me, or I'll just keep bothering you while you work!"

Your childish antics earned a soft chuckle from Jeonghan. Little did you know, your playful behavior stirred a flutter of butterflies inside his stomach. However, beneath the laughter, a pang of guilt gnawed at him. He couldn't bear the thought of revealing that he knew your secret, nor could he admit to confronting Seungcheol about it.

"Give it to me, quickly!" you urged, your impatience palpable.

Jeonghan sighed, feeling the weight of his deception pressing down on him. "It's not with me," he mumbled, avoiding your gaze.

Your brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean? If it's not with you, then where is it?"

Jeonghan pushed aside the pile of papers in front of him and turned to face you fully. "Don't you want to tell me something?" he asked, his tone serious, catching you off guard.

You were taken aback by the sudden change in Jeonghan's demeanor. "I don't get it," you admitted, unsure of his intentions with the question.

Jeonghan sighed heavily, steeling himself for the difficult conversation ahead. "I read your results and... I found out that... You... You had a miscarriage," he finally admitted, his voice laced with uncertainty, afraid that his words might inadvertently hurt you.

You blinked, processing his revelation. "It's written there?" you asked softly, your tone barely above a whisper.

Jeonghan nodded, his gaze fixed on your face, searching for any signs of how you were feeling. He noticed the glint in your eyes, the subtle shift in your expression as memories resurfaced.

His hands instinctively moved to your side, a silent gesture of support. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions, and nodded slowly, your eyes closed. Your hands moved to your face, wiping away the tears that had begun to flow. Despite your efforts, a chuckle escaped you, tinged with embarrassment at your own vulnerability.

"It's been two years already, but I'm still a coward when it comes to having a conversation about this like an adult," you confessed, offering a glimpse into the depth of your emotions and the difficulty of facing such a painful experience.

Jeonghan tilted his head, his expression softening with understanding. "No, it's okay. Everyone has something they don't want to talk about. I'm sorry for asking you," he reassured you, his voice gentle and comforting. But you shook your head, a need to share weighing heavily on your heart.

"When I met you at that bar for the first time, it was the date when I had my miscarriage," you revealed, your voice trembling with emotion.

"I was having a fancy dinner for myself, and I bumped into Seungcheol's parents. They looked so happy talking about their son's success when they were the reason I lost the baby."

Jeonghan's brows furrowed in confusion and concern. "What do you mean?" he asked softly, urging you to continue.

"When they came to me with money for my father's surgery, I told them that I was pregnant with Seungcheol's child. They were so mad, especially his mother. She... she pushed me so hard that I—" You choked on your words, overcome with emotion, the pain of that fateful day still raw and agonizing.

Jeonghan's heart filled with anger, but his touch remained gentle and soft as he pulled you into his embrace, allowing you to release your pent-up sobs.

He gently lifted your face to look at him, his own heart aching at the sight of your tears and swollen eyes. Tenderly, he cupped your cheeks and wiped away the tears, offering you solace in his comforting embrace.

"I'm so sorry that you've been through this," Jeonghan whispered, his voice filled with empathy and sorrow. He took a deep breath before continuing, his words chosen carefully. "I'm so proud of your progression, facing Seungcheol and being brave in front of him. That's great, Y/n... However, this pain," he said, gesturing to your distressed state, "you couldn't keep it to yourself."

His words resonated deeply with you, and tears welled up in your eyes once again as you felt the weight of his understanding and support.

"I'm here if you need me. Regardless of whether this marriage is contractual or not, we're still husband and wife," Jeonghan declared, his voice unwavering with determination.

"Jeonghan..." you began, feeling overwhelmed by his kindness and reassurance.

Without another word, Jeonghan closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours with a gentle tenderness that sent shivers down your spine. In that fleeting moment, his touch spoke volumes, conveying a depth of emotion that words could never capture. It was a gesture of love, comfort, and unwavering support, wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

As his lips met yours, you felt a rush of emotions flood over you, mingling with the taste of his presence. The kiss was a balm to your soul, soothing the ache of your heartache and offering a glimpse of solace in the midst of turmoil. In that instant, you realized that you weren't alone in your pain anymore. Jeonghan was there, standing steadfast beside you, ready to shoulder the weight of your burdens together.

The kiss lingered, drawing out the moment of intimacy as you melted into each other's embrace. His touch was both gentle and firm, a silent reassurance that you were safe in his arms. With each caress, it was as if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders, replaced by a sense of comfort and belonging that you had long yearned for.

In the quiet intimacy of that embrace, the walls around your heart began to crumble, allowing Jeonghan's love to seep in and mend the wounds that had long been festering. It was a healing touch, stitching together the broken pieces of your soul and offering a glimpse of hope amidst the darkness.

When the kiss finally broke, you found yourself lost in the depths of Jeonghan's gaze, seeing a reflection of your own emotions mirrored back at you.

"Why do you always make me worry?" Jeonghan whispered, his voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and affection. "Why can't I stop thinking about you, Y/n? I feel like I'm going crazy."

You gazed into his eyes, seeing the depth of his emotions reflected back at you. There was a vulnerability in his words, a raw honesty that stirred something deep within you.

"I'm so crazy!" he muttered, almost to himself, as if grappling with his own feelings.

Before you could respond, Jeonghan closed the distance between you once again, his lips seeking yours with a fervent intensity. His hand found the back of your neck, holding you close as he deepened the kiss, as if desperate for the connection to never break. Meanwhile, his other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed tightly against each other.

As he laid you down on the couch, you couldn't help but lose yourself in the whirlwind of sensations that engulfed you. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, while his hands gripped your waist possessively.

"If this is what love feels like, then I love you, Ji Y/n," he confessed between kisses, his voice husky with desire.

A moan escaped your lips as his touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You could feel the intensity of his emotions, the depth of his passion, and it only served to fuel your own desires.

"I'm so crazy because of you," he murmured against your skin, his words a whispered declaration of his love and devotion.

In that moment, as you surrendered yourself to the intoxicating whirlwind of emotion and desire, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be – wrapped in Jeonghan's arms, consumed by the flames of passion and love.

As the first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, Jeonghan stirred from his sleep, his mind still heavy with the weight of the previous night's emotions. Groggily, he reached out beside him, expecting to feel the warmth of your presence, but his hand met only empty sheets.

Panic seized him as he shot up in bed, his heart racing with anxiety. Frantically, he scanned the room, searching for any sign of you, but the bed was empty, and you were nowhere to be found.

With a sense of urgency, Jeonghan threw back the covers and rushed out of the bedroom, his footsteps echoing through the silent house. He called out your name, his voice tinged with desperation, but there was no response.

His anxiety mounting with each passing second, Jeonghan raced through the house, checking every room in a frantic search for you. And then, just as his panic threatened to consume him, he heard the faint sound of voices coming from the dining room.

With a sense of relief flooding through him, Jeonghan hurried towards the source of the noise, his heart pounding in his chest. And there, in the soft glow of morning light, he found you and Mingyu sitting at the dining table, sharing a quiet breakfast together.

A wave of relief washed over him as he took in the sight of you, safe and sound, your laughter filling the room like music to his ears. Without a word, he rushed forward, pulling you into his arms in a tight embrace, holding you close as if afraid to let you go.

"Stop it!" Mingyu whined. "I told you to stop doing that in front of me."

Jeonghan threw a glance to Mingyu before his focus shifted to you, "i'll drive you work. Mingyu, you're going with driver today." His words were final before he went back to get himself prepare for work.

As you and Jeonghan finished breakfast, he suggested driving you to work, wanting to spend a little more time together before parting ways for the day. You agreed, appreciating the chance to have a few extra moments with him.

As Jeonghan maneuvered the car through the morning traffic, a comfortable silence settled between you. However, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling in the back of his mind about what had transpired between you the night before. He had made love to you, and although he believed in the connection you shared, he wanted to hear it from you directly.

Taking a deep breath, Jeonghan finally mustered up the courage to broach the subject. "Y/n, about last night..." he began, his voice hesitant yet determined. "I know what happened between us, and I believe in the connection we share. But I want to hear it from you. How do you feel about me?"

His words hung in the air, filling the car with an undeniable tension as he waited for your response. He stole a quick glance at you, his heart pounding in his chest as he awaited your answer, hoping beyond hope that it would be what he longed to hear.

You felt a wave of confusion wash over you at Jeonghan's question. Your marriage to him was contractual, a mutually beneficial arrangement that had brought you together out of convenience rather than love. You couldn't deny the undeniable attraction you felt for him, but you also feared getting hurt by allowing yourself to fully invest in something that might not be real.

Taking a moment to collect your thoughts, you turned to face Jeonghan, meeting his gaze with a mixture of uncertainty and vulnerability. "Jeonghan, our marriage may be contractual, but I never regret anything that has happened between us," you admitted softly, your voice tinged with sincerity.

"You've shown me kindness, understanding, and love, and for that, I'm grateful. But I'm also afraid," you confessed, laying bare your insecurities and fears. "I don't want to get hurt, Jeonghan. I don't want to allow myself to believe in something that might not be real."

Jeonghan listened intently to your words, his heart aching at the vulnerability in your voice. He reached out to gently take your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. "I understand your fears, Y/n," he said softly, his voice filled with empathy. "But I want you to know that what we have is real. Our connection, our bond, it's not just a contract to me. It's something deeper, something meaningful."

He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes searching yours with unwavering sincerity. "I care about you, Y/n. More than I ever thought possible. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to prove to you that our love is worth fighting for."

His words struck a chord deep within you, stirring emotions you had long kept buried. As you looked into his eyes, you saw the sincerity and love reflected back at you, and in that moment, you knew that despite your fears, you couldn't deny the depth of your feelings for him.

As you arrived at school and began your day of teaching, your thoughts were divided between your duties in the classroom and Jeonghan. Despite your best efforts to focus on your students and the lesson plans at hand, his presence lingered in the back of your mind, tugging at your thoughts whenever you had a spare moment.

Throughout the day, you found yourself reflecting on the journey of your marriage with Jeonghan. What had started as a union born out of revenge and individual advantages had evolved into something much deeper – a bond forged through affection and mercy for both of you.

You couldn't deny the growing feelings you harbored for him, feelings that had developed despite your initial reservations. You found yourself liking everything he did for you, from the small gestures of kindness to the moments of shared laughter and intimacy.

As you mulled over your emotions, a realization began to dawn on you. Could this be what love feels like? If it was, then you couldn't deny it any longer – you had fallen for Jeonghan as well.

The thought both excited and terrified you, but deep down, you knew that you were ready to embrace whatever the future held for you and Jeonghan. As the day drew to a close and you prepared to head home, a sense of anticipation filled you, eager to see where this newfound realization would lead you both.

As you made your way home, lost in your thoughts about Jeonghan and the newfound complexity of your relationship, a text message suddenly chimed on your phone. With a curious frown, you unlocked your device and opened the message from Jeonghan.

Your heart skipped a beat as you saw the photo he had sent you – a picture of torn papers scattered across his desk, accompanied by a caption that simply read, "I tear our contract. Hehe."

A rush of emotions flooded through you as you stared at the image, a mixture of surprise, excitement, and uncertainty swirling in your mind. Jeonghan's action spoke volumes, signaling a decisive step forward in your relationship and a willingness to break free from the confines of the contractual arrangement that had bound you together.

As you contemplated his message, a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. Despite the lingering doubts and fears, you couldn't deny the flutter of excitement that blossomed in your chest at the prospect of what this meant for the two of you.

With a newfound sense of determination, you quickly typed out a response to Jeonghan, your fingers trembling slightly with anticipation. "I'm on my way home. Let's talk," you wrote, your heart racing with anticipation as you hit send.

As you continued your journey home, the weight of the torn contract and the possibilities it represented hung heavy in the air, filling you with a sense of hope and excitement for the future that lay ahead.

The end.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #seventeen scenarios #densworld🌼#seventeen series #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagine #seventeen drabbles #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan smut #jeonghan fanfiction #jeonghan fic #jeonghan imagine #jeonghan au #jeonghan series

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nebbyy · 21 days

Note

Please write a fanfic about King Baldwin IV from KoH, where he fell in love with female reader. The plot is up to you. Please make it a serious love story with slight fluff 🤗🤭

Baldwin IV x reader - Life always comes down to a game of chess

A/N: You have no idea how much I love you anon, this was one of the prompts I already wanted to write omgggg!! For this fic I kinda got inspired by this painting (which, for everyone interested, it’s “La belle dame sans merci” by Frank Dicksee), and you’ll see how and why reading it;)

Summary: King Baldwin IV receives an offer from an Italian nobleman to marry his daughter; unsure of whether to accept or not this compelling offer, Baldwin decides to do what he does best…

Warning: there are some mentions of christianity and religious references along with some hints at the misogynistic ideologies of the time (about the woman being “owned” by the dominant male figure in her life) ((I don’t condone this ideology at all but I thought it’d be fitting to add it anyway to give some accuracy to it)).

Word count: 2637

King Baldwin couldn’t quite wrap his head around you. The day that he was informed of your engagement, he felt himself quite skeptical of the idea of marrying someone. After all, ever since his leprosy had been diagnosed he had to get used to the idea of living a life of solitude, forced into a lifelong chastity, for no sane man would ever marry off their daughter to a leper. With time, he had found solace in nurturing his own knowledge and virtue, elevating himself to a level of wisdom that very few could few could boast at his young age.

During the following days, the young king's mind was plagued with thoughts, considerations he was making to weigh the choice. The benefits of marrying Lady Y/N were many, first and foremost securing a connection to the land of Italian speakers, allowing for easier trafficking of crusaders arriving in the Holy Land, not to mention the abundance that would be the young lady's dowry. And not only did marrying her mean strengthening the economical side of his reign, but it also meant giving the impression to the public that the king's health condition was improving to such an extent that he considered that to be an ideal time to marry. His most trusted men and all of his advisors kept repeating to him, marrying Lady Y/N would’ve been comparable to a blessing.

But despite all the benefits this union seemed like it would bring, Baldwin continued to hesitate to make a decision. What left him so undecided was the possibility that this was some kind of deception, a conspiracy orchestrated against him, hidden in the form of the most convenient of marriages. It was up to him to decide whether it was worth taking these risks in favor of the benefits that would come if his concerns turned out to be unfounded.

Like everything else in his life, this choice came down to a game of chess…

It was this idea that prompted him to make a decision. Baldwin had a messenger called, to be sent to Pisa to give the news to Lord Y/F/N that the king wished to report his decision to him live, at his court. For the lord to arrive it would have to wait, but Baldwin has always been a man of exceptional patience.

Four months passed, when at the dawn of Lent it was announced by a Pisan messenger that Lord Y/F/N and his daughter had come to Acre, and would soon be coming to Jerusalem. Another week passed before father and daughter, riding two white horses and accompanied by an escort of knights arrived at the royal palace.

When he first saw you, Baldwin could have sworn he saw Mary himself. You walked with such grace that you almost seemed to float. Your face looked serene, despite the anxiety that had been devouring you from within ever since the day the invitation from the king of Jerusalem reached you; a blue veil covered your hair, framing your face and falling over your shoulders. You bowed to Baldwin as was proper to do before a king, yet he felt so tempted to interrupt you, prevent you from bowing to him, perhaps even bowing to you himself.

At that moment he felt like Lancelot before Guinevere, completely mesmerized by your beauty, one who seemed more fit to an angel than a woman. But, he gave no sign of his true emotional state; after all, a gorgeous woman does not mean she can be fit to serve as queen. Her answer will be decided when she has had a chance to hear you speak, away from the judgmental stares of the court, free from any influence that might change what you really think.

As the sun shone bright in the sky, the banquet took place inside of the palace. The king excused himself before going to eat by himself in his chambers as usual, leaving his guests in the company of his sisters and his court. Loud chatter filled the room, goblets were raised to get more wine poured, courses flowed onto the set table, a tribute to thank Lord Y/F/N for making such a journey to fulfill the king's request. All this noise, yet in your ears all became quiet when a servant approached your chair, whispering a few simple words, "The king has requested your presence at dinner."

Your blood froze in your veins in surprise, and you could almost feel your father's thrill as you rose from your seat, having the servant guide you toward the king's study. Walking through the halls of the palace, you could do nothing but feel so small in comparison, you almost seemed to disappear, enveloped by the magnificence of everything around you that, if all went well, you would have called your own.

You were brought back to reality when the heavy doors of the king's room were opened by the two guards who stood at his sides. An enveloping fragrance, a mixture of myrrh and frankincense filled your senses with a feeling of serenity, an almost familiar feeling. In the center of the room, a hooded figure, dressed in silk as white as snow. "Come forward, my lady. I apologize for my absence at the table but," she interjected for a moment, rising from her seat and revealing her face-or at least, what was not covered by the veil-"many might find my appearance somewhat...disturbing during a meal." He chuckled a little at that last part. You wondered if irony had become a kind of means for him to soften his own hellish condition.

As soon as he turned around you could not help but study the appearance of what will hopefully be your future husband. Rumors about his condition had been swirling since the day he was crowned, so you had been prepared to be confronted with a horrifically disfigured man. Instead, although part of his face was covered by the thin veil, it was like an instinct for you to try to study his features. You could vaguely make out the golden hair that adorned his face, although it was covered by the veil. His voice had intrigued you; it sounded so jovial and yet so deep. A melody that sang of the young monarch's endeavors. It intrigued you, you wondered what his lips looked like, whether they matched the sound of his voice.

But what really caught your interest were his eyes. They were blue, but of a color so deep, so intense, it reminded you of tales you had heard about the northern seas, of the waters that dark and deep seemed to beckon sailors, to lead them to drown within them. Likewise you felt mesmerized by such intensity. And you wondered, how much of this would remain the same as his illness progressed.

You recovered from that momentary trance, wasting no time to bow, but this time Baldwin stopped you before you were able to bow more than your head: "Don't bow, please. Such reverences are not necessary here." You looked at him a little dumbfounded, but despite the king's unusual attitude you did not object. He stepped to the side, revealing a finely decorated chessboard, with all the pawns already set in place. "Do you play?" he asked softly, and you finally mustered up the courage to speak "It's been some time since I last did," as you approached the table, taking your seat opposite Baldwin. He took his seat again, and for the first time in your life you found yourself face to face with a king.

You quickly realised that he had assigned you the white pawns, the small courtesy of moving you first. You took a moment to think of an initial strategy, and moved your first pawn. A horse. Baldwin raised his eyebrows, surprised by your decision. "Aren't you going to move the pawns first?" You kept your gaze on the chessboard, partly out of respect and partly out of fear, still unsure why the king would call you to his chambers, if indeed it was all just to have a playmate. "I always prefer to start with the horse. I like to think that the pawns would be frightened to charge against the enemy without a knight to guide them." You looked up, meeting his eyes that studied you intrigued. Chuckling at what you had just said, you continued, shaking your head slightly, "Forgive me, it was just a silly thought."

"Not at all, my lady," he replied, studying your every detail, "I find it fascinating." It was his turn to move, and as per rule, he moved one of the pawns, the one in front of the queen. "So you think good leadership is better than letting the individual decide for himself?" There was a spark that had lit up in his eyes, something playful. It was clear that you were intriguing him, surprisingly in your eyes, since you had been instructed to stay behind your father's shadow, not to express your thoughts or externalize your ideologies.

Everything had to be perfect, one could not risk the futile mind of a young woman ruining the marriage that would have been so beneficial to her dukedom, but above all to her family. Yet at that moment she felt that expressing what resided in her own mind was exactly what Baldwin wanted from her. Something lit up in her too, and he in turn caught the same spark in her eyes. Could it be that she had figured out the trick...?

Another pawn moved, it was Baldwin's turn to move again. Your eyes seldom parted from each other, just for that moment necessary to make your own move. "Independence is not always what benefits a man. Certainly, it is tempting, but in moments of indecision it risks leading to oblivion. An infantryman needs a leader, a young man who is lost in the woods needs a hunter to guide him out..." Another move, the white bishop points directly at the black king "...an indecisive man needs an outside opinion to make his decision."

You smiled, and like the sweetest of plagues you infected him too. You had deciphered his little deception. An innocent deception, with the purpose of seeing with your own eyes how you, in a condition so similar to what is the duty of a sovereign, would have acted.

After all, his life always came down to a game of chess....

"So you understood..." Baldwin whispered, again sitting in his place. For the first time in his memory, someone had managed to leave him speechless. His witty mind seemed to have died out all of a sudden, the knight in him unarmed by the woman sitting in front of him. Maybe the deception wasn’t as occult as he had planned, or maybe this young lady was really able to stand up to him.

You smiled at him proudly, be proud of your intuition but also relieved that your thought had not turned out to be foolish. Your pride had removed from your mind every rule, every admonition that had been given to you from the moment you set foot in the Holy Land; your mind was now like a river in flood, finally free to flow out according to its natural course. "I do not blame you, my lord. I realize that this is a difficult choice for you, and that the factors at stake go far beyond your individual will."

"And what do you think about that?" Your smile acquired a bittersweet scent, and you answered without almost hesitation: "I am only a woman, my will is that of my father and it will be of my husband. My family prays that this role will be filled by you, and for this to happen I have been instructed to be fit to reign at your side."

“That I can clearly see, but what truly urges me is to know what your own will says. If we were to marry, you would be the bride to a wretched man, one whose fate has already been announced by God. My demise won't be far off, you’ll be left a widow in a foreign land. And before this… curse gets the better of me, there is no saying that it won’t get to you too. If it did, you would suffer the same fate I had been given.”

It took you a moment to let his words sink into your mind. He spoke the truth, a future with him would be filled with sickness and uncertainty; you would have to live in a court far from your home, where everyone was waiting for the king’s death like a flock of crows flying above a dying man. You took a deep breath, feeling as everything came down to this very moment. “I won’t lie to you, my lord, the future that awaits me while standing by your side is not an easy one by any means, and I’m very much aware of that. I do not expect my future to be easy, for it would be an excess of greed. So if I can have a saying in my own future, I’d like to say that I would much rather all the time that is given to me by the Lord standing by the side of a man filled with virtue, than by the side of a man too full of himself to see anything just an inch away from his reflection. There would be no greater honor for me than to stand by your side, for as long as you still have to live, my lord. And if I ever was to catch this disease as well, then I would have no other words to say other than God wills it.“

At your words, the young king had to shake himself up, now more than ever necessary for him to say something, anything really. “For you, my lady, I shall always be just Baldwin.” His tone was softer than ever, a soft breeze that reached to you and whispered I am but yours now. It was unsaid, but decided. Once this meeting would be over, the king would come to your father, and confirm his decision to accept the proposal. Only problem was, this meeting seemed to have become endless. What was supposed to be a quick meal, accompanied by a game of chess, turned into a lively exchange of political views, then silly childhood anecdotes, then again into a walk in the inner courtyard of the palace. Baldwin tried hard to keep you in his presence for as long as was deemed decent for an unmarried man and woman. He kept you with him as long as he could, and when that was no longer possible, he led you back into the great hall, gently holding your hand over his. Soon after the announcement of your engagement, the wedding was set to happen during the following Easter, and the banquet made in honor of his guests was prolonged until the sun had been long set, this time in honor of his betrothed.

You think back to that day fondly, as you lay on your bed, in the comfort of silky sheets and soft pillows. One of your hands holds your head while the others traces the patterns of the scars in your husband’s face that have considerably worsened during the years. Aside from the bed, sitting on a table, forgotten as long as the night reigned over Jerusalem, were two crowns, along with two chess pawns. A white queen and a black king. Both came from the set that had been used the day the two of you met, a reminder for Baldwin of the day God had merged your destinies in one.

A/N: wowww that came out longer than I though oopss. ANYWAY, this was my interpretation of your request, anon, hope you like it!! Also, for everyone who’s gonna read this, feel free to leave any constructive criticism since this is my first fic and I would like to improve a looot more in my writing skills. That’s it now have a nice day y’all <3<3

#kingdom of heaven #king baldwin iv #baldwin iv #king baldwin iv x reader #king baldwin x reader #fluff #historical fiction #anon ask #requests open #writers on tumblr #my fic #writing requests

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pinkie-pop · 1 month

Text

"I Have Something To Tell You."

Part I Part II Part III

Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Yandere Genshn Impact, non religious SAGAU, Yandere Fatui Harbingers

Word count: 4k

Includes: Portrayal of mental illness, suicide, brief mention of experimentation, Scaramouche gets a new name, he's also really annoying, solving problems with violence

Synopsis: After killing yourself and landing in the world of Genshin Impact, you reflect on all that has gone wrong.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Two weeks.

You have two weeks before Dottore’s experiments start (you suppose even his apparent fondness for you has its limits), two weeks to make a case for yourself and prove to Scaramouche that you're worth saving.

“What about him? I don't have time for idle chatter, you know. Spit it out.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath. You hope this goes well.

“Well…”

Every second seems to stretch on for a millennium. The silence is deafening, though you can feel your heart beating so rapidly you're surprised you can't hear it.

“...And this information is reliable?” He says at last. You nod. Contrary to your expectations, Scaramouche simply sighs, leaning back in his chair. “I assume you have a reason for telling me this now of all times. What do you want?”

“Freedom,” you say. He quirks his eyebrow, so you continue. “This place is suffocating. Let's run away together. To Sumeru.”

“Together?” There's an unreadable expression on his face, but you’re far too focused on convincing him to pay it any mind.

“Yes. Unless you want to stay here, even after learning the truth?”

“No.” He shakes his head, closing his eyes as if in contemplation. “Alright. Pack your bags. We'll leave tomorrow at dawn.”

“Tomorrow?!”

“Is that a problem?” You stare at him with wide eyes. “Close your mouth,” he says. You do.

“Don't we need time to prepare? A plan? Something? Anything?”

“What, you don't trust me?” He mocks. “It's fine. I'm sure you'll figure something out.” Your jaw drops to the floor. “Figure it out”? Is he insane? And he's leaving it all up to you? You gawk at him, but he merely shoos you away from his chambers.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

True to his word, Scaramouche (you suppose his name will be changing soon) picks you up at dawn. You brought nothing but the clothes on your back, some mora, and some jewelry that looked expensive. It’s precisely 4:44 AM when you both exit the palace, careful not to be seen by any guards or servants. You stifle a yawn, having been up all night concocting a plan for the escape.

Think, brain, think.

You have to come up with an executable plan by tonight. You can't think straight. Even writing your own suicide note didn't take this much brainpower.

Wait…that's it.

Hurriedly, you grab a pen and paper from your writing desk and get to work. Through writing, you explain that you and Scaramouche have become star-crossed lovers. You know the other Harbingers would not accept your union, and so you've left the palace together to act out a suicide pact. Don’t bother looking for your bodies, you said, as you'd be throwing yourselves into the ocean. Carefully, you seal the envelope and place it under your pillow. Scaramouche said he’d handle getting you out of the palace, so you don’t have to worry on that end, but getting caught after the fact still falls on you to figure out.

Luckily, you already have an idea or two.

Just like in your letter, the two of you head to the ocean first. It’s still early, so many boats are left unmanned in the docks. Stealing a simple paddle boat is easy enough, but it dawns on you that you have no idea how to get to Sumeru.

“What is it?” Scaramouche asks, seeming to sense your hesitance.

“I…don’t actually know how to get to Sumeru from here.” Scaramouche rolls his eyes.

“Seriously? Is that head of yours just for show?”

“Hey! At least I have a plan. You just dumped this whole thing on me!”

“It was your idea,” he retorts. You groan.

“Whatever. Let’s just go in one direction until we hit land, I guess. We’ll figure the rest out from there.” With that, you and Scaramouche work together in silence to untie a boat from its tether and board it. It only takes about an hour of rowing before your arms begin to ache, but you push through the pain, too prideful to ask Scaramouche to take over. By your third hour, your arms feel like they’re about to fall off, and your rowing has slowed significantly. Wordlessly, Scaramouche takes the ores from your weary hands and takes over the rowing. That’s strange…why didn’t he tease you? Shouldn’t he have at least called you weak or useless?

“What?” He asks, voice gruff.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” you say, realizing you’d been staring. “Sorry.”

“Hmph.” He turns away with a huff. You might be imagining it, but you could have sworn his ears turned just the tiniest bit red.

Finally, the two of you reach shore. It looks…oddly familiar.

“Oh!” You say, clapping your hands together. Scaramouche jumps, but you pay him no mind (If you had paid attention, however, you would undoubtedly have noticed that jumping implies his guard was down—something that seems very out of character for someone like him). “I know where we are!”

“Where?” He asks, looking somewhat annoyed (though that could just be his face).

“The beach!” You say.

“...Seriously?” Realizing how silly that sounded, your face heats up.

“The beach,” you say. “The one from the tutorial.”

“The what?”

“Forget it. We’re in the east end of Mondstadt. I can take us to Sumeru from here.” The route is pretty straightforward, so you should have no trouble getting there. You lead the way, passing through the whispering woods, past Mondstadt city, Springvale, and then Dawn Winery. After about two hours of walking, you’ve already made it to Liyue.

“Tired yet?” Scaramouche asks.

“Not even a little,” you reply.

You walk from Stonegate to Dihua Marsh, then pass Wangshu Inn and the Guili Planes. Finally, you’ve reached Liyue Harbor, where you and Scaramouche stop to get food and rest.

“Do you think you’ll change your name?” You ask in between bites.

“Where’s that coming from?”

“I just figured you wouldn’t want to use Scaramouche anymore. Considering the whole Dottore situation and all. Plus,” you say, pausing to take a chew. “We’re on the run right now. A Harbinger’s name might draw attention.”

“Pick one for me, then.”

“How about ‘Hat Guy’?” You ask, stifling a laugh. He huffs.

“Forget it.”

“What about Kuni?”

“No.”

“Kuzushi?”

“No.”

“Kuku?”

“Are you even trying?”

“You insult me,” you say with a grin.”Well, if we’re going to Sumeru, maybe we should pick a Sumerian name? What do you think about Arasay?”

“That…isn’t terrible.”

“High praise.” You decide not to tell him that ‘Arasay’ is really just ‘Scara’ in pig Latin, missing a letter. “Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I…um, think I’m from the future?”

“What?”

“Uh, let me start over and walk you through my train of thought. So, in my world, the way I interact with this world is through a medium called a computer. This computer allows me to take limited control of the Traveler and his associates, make them stronger, stuff like that. Are you with me so far?”

“Yes. Are you going somewhere with this?”

“I just said I was walking you through my train of thought. Have some patience will you?” From Arasay’s smirk, you can tell he was only messing with you. “Ugh, you’re the worst. Anyway, the computer gives me insight on important events that happen to the traveler. The thing is, though, some of those events haven’t actually happened yet. Like, let me ask you this: what was the last major thing that the Traveler did?”

“He defeated Stormterror not long after you got here.”

“After I got here?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Yeah, actually. It’s a huge problem.” You bury your face in your hands, trying not to laugh at the sheer absurdity of your situation.

“Care to enlighten me?” Arasay asks, seeming annoyed (though, really, that seems to just be his default state).

“So, it’s- I- Ugh.” You let your head fall onto the table. Quickly, you raise your head and look up at your companion. “How do you know about me?”

“You possessed one of my colleagues.”

“Except I didn’t.” You lean in closer to him, nearly face-to-face.

“What do you mean?”

“Tartaglia hasn’t met the Traveler yet, and I didn’t take control over him until after he met the Traveler. So, let me ask you again: how do you know about me?”

“Agh!” Arasay grabs at his head, a pained expression on his face. You leap to your feet and rush over to his side, your hands floating mere inches from him, as if you’re worried he’ll shatter with the smallest touch. “My…my head!” He says, clutching his hair between his fists. He convulses, then slumps over.

“Arasay? Arasay!” You shake him, desperately trying to rouse him to no avail. “Arasay!” You cry.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“Are you feeling better now?”

“Yes.” You breathe out a sigh of relief, nearly slumping over.

“That scared me,” you say. “Are you sure you’re okay now? You aren’t just saying it out of pride?”

“Your concern disgusts me,” he says, hiding his face behind his hat. You know he’s lying: the tips of his ears are pink. After composing himself, he lets go of his hat and faces you. “I-”

“Hey-”

You both look at each other. Arasay sighs. “You go first,” he says.

“I think you should ditch the hat.”

“What?”

“It draws too much attention. We don’t want rumors about the hat guy and his companion floating around so soon after we ran off, do we?” Arasay sighs again, louder this time.

“Fine,” he says taking his hat off and placing it to his side. “Happy?”

“You look naked.” He gives you the stink eye. “Sorry, sorry. You look fine. We’ll get you a new hat when we get to Sumeru. Maybe a less flashy one?”

“Whatever.”

“You had something you wanted to say, too, right?” He nods.

“I had a dream,” he starts, looking off in the distance. “It happened when I passed out. In it, I saw the timeline you described. I remembered meeting the Traveler, fighting him, joining him, getting my vision-” Arasay unclenches his fist, turning his hand over to reveal what you hadn’t noticed he’d been holding. A shiny blue vision, encased in a Sumerian sheath. “I remembered everything.”

You stare at him, mouth agape. “Interesting,” you say, a million thoughts racing through your head.

“I think I know what we need to do next.”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

When you finish eating, you leave the harbor and head to the Chasm, where you bribe the two guards to let you in. Navigating the Chasm is a little tricky, as it’s an area you haven’t spent much time in, but through sheer luck and some educated guessing, you manage to find your way to Cinnabar Cliff.

Finally, you’re in Sumeru. It took three hours of rowing and five of walking, but you finally made it. As the sun sets over the horizon, you breathe out a sigh of relief. You’ve made it.

“We’re here,” Arasay says. “What now?”

“Now we go to Gandharva village,” you say, confidently taking a step forwards. As the two of you travel down the path, you spot an Aranara out of the corner of your eye. Though you’d like to go up and befriend it, it disappears before you can even get a good look. You continue walking, lost in your own thoughts when Arasay grabs you. You jolt to attention, quickly realizing that you were about two steps from waking right into a withering zone. Right, you had forgotten about these.

“Watch it,” he says.

“Should we just go around?” You ask, looking over to your companion. He shakes his head.

“Stay here. I’ll take care of it.” You’re surprised by how quickly and efficiently he fights off the monsters and clears out the area. You knew he was strong from playing the game, of course, but something about seeing it in action is different. It’s amazing, really. “Don’t tell me you’re impressed by only this much,” he says. You glare at him.

“Not at all,” you say, walking past him. You pause, briefly forgetting your frustration and remembering your manners. “Thanks, though.” As you continue down the path, you spot a familiar tuff of green hair and call out to it.

“Collei!” You cry, running over to her. Collie jumps, looking up at you with a confused smile.

“Do…do I know you?” She asks. You freeze. Whoops. You forgot she doesn’t know who you are.

“Ah- sorry! Let me introduce myself. I’m [Name], the Player—which is how I knew your name. If you want me to prove it, I can-”

“No, I believe you,” she says firmly.

“You do?”

“Uh, well,” Collei folds her hands together, looking a bit bashful. “It was a little weird, but I felt like I knew you the moment I saw you, even though I was sure I’d never seen you in my life. Your presence was…familiar to me. It…felt like home. A-anyway, that’s how I recognized you! But, um, what are you doing here? And, um, who’s your friend?”

“‘Friend’ is pushing it,” Arasay huffs. You sigh dramatically, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you drape yourself over him.

“Soulmate, then,” you say, smiling. “Love of my life, the apple of my eye?” Arasay pushes you off of him, and you fall to the ground, your laughing only intensified by the bright pink of his cheeks. Collei looks between you two awkwardly.

“Arasay,” he says to her, helping you up off the ground. “And the reason we’re here is because-”

“Let’s go to the village first,” you say. “We need to speak to your master, too.”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“So you need a place to stay for the night?” Tighnari asks, looking between you two. You nod.

“Yes, if it’s not too much trouble,” you say.

“Not at all,” he says. “You two can stay with me.”

“Um, Master,” Collei pipes up. “if it’s okay, I’d like to be the one to host the Player in my hut.” Tighnari looks her up and down, as if sizing her up in his mind.

“I’m sure the player would be more comfortable in my hut,” he says, his ear flicking. “You can take their friend.”

“But—!”

“Collei,” Tighnari says in a warning tone. “Don’t push yourself. I’m sure the Player wouldn’t want you stretching yourself thin over them, right? Don’t forget that you’re still ill.” Collei nods, looking dejected, so you offer her a small smile for comfort. This seems to cheer her up a bit, but she still looks disheartened. The way they’re fighting over you reminds you of being with the Fatui. It sends a shiver down your spine.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” you say. Arasay looks like he has something to say to you, but you avoid his stare until Collei drags him over to her hut. You and Tighnari begin to settle in for the night. It’s clear from the way his gaze continues to travel back to you that he has something he wants to say. You ignore him, though, far too exhausted to try and humor him.

Soon enough, morning arrives. You ask Tighnari to accompany you and Arasay to Sumeru city.

“You’re going to the city?” Tighnari’s ears perk up. “What do you need there?”

“People,” you say. Tighnari looks over to Arasay, who simply shrugs and gets ready to depart.

The three of you make it to the city, where the guards stop and hand you an Akasha Terminal. You thank them and put it on, keeping it there for a grand total of three and a half steps until the guards stop looking, and you pocket the thing immediately.

“Where to?” Arasay pipes up.

“The Akademiya. We need to pick up Cyno and Alhaitham.”

“Cyno I know, but I’ve never heard of this Alhaitham before,” Tighnari says. “Who is he?”

“The Scribe. I don’t know where his office is, though.”

“Cyno might know. And if he doesn’t, I’m sure he can find out.”

“I just hope he’s not busy,” you say, glancing over your shoulder. You keep walking, and in the few seconds you have your eyes off the road, you manage to crash into someone. You and the other person fall to the ground, with you clutching the arm you accidentally hit.

“Watch where you’re going,” Arasay scolds.

“Sorry, I-”

“Not you. Her,” he says, glaring daggers at the lady you knocked into. Tighnari helps you up, and you help the lady to her feet. As you do, you notice her arms are covered in bandages. One happens to be loose, and you can see dark purple scales poking out from underneath.

“...Dunyarzad?” You say, nearly holding your breath.

“Yes?” She asks, looking confused. “Do I know you?”

“Yes! No! Um, maybe…?”

“Huh…?” With exceptional timing, Dehya arrives on the scene.

“Dehya!”

“Do I know you…?” You chuckle. You feel like you’ve been hearing that a lot lately.

“So…” Briefly, you explain who you are.

“Can you take accountability for your words?” Dehya asks, eyes narrowing.

“I can,” you say confidently. “But first, can you come with me? I only want to prove myself once, and there are still some other people I want to see.”

“And now you’re giving me orders? The Player has been missing for weeks. Do you think I’m stupid?” She asks, stepping closer to you. Arasay blocks her from coming any closer, and you can practically feel the animosity in the air. “Even if I did believe you, I can’t just abandon my post like that.”

“That’s enough, Dehya,” says Dunyarzad, walking between you and her.

“My lady…?”

“I believe them,” she says. “I want to listen to whatever they have to say.”

“But-”

“That’s an order.” Her tone is final, leaving no room for further argument. You look at her, impressed by her firmness, to which she returns your gaze with a smile. Dehya sighs, gesturing for you to take the lead.

You lead your party of four (five, including yourself) to the Akademiya, where you’re met with several stares from the students. It’s clear that your odd group doesn’t quite belong here, but perhaps due to the ferocious gaze of Dehya and Arasay, no one dares to say anything. Tighnari leads you to Cyno’s office, where he’s chatting with one of his subordinates. He quirks an eyebrow at your arrival but otherwise ignores you until he’s finished talking. The guard leaves, and Cyno turns to Tighnari. You briefly explain that you’re looking for him and the Scribe, and Tighnari vouches for your trustworthiness. That seems to be all Cyno needs, as he doesn’t ask any further questions and simply leads you to Althaitham’s office.

You knock on the door.

“Come in,” calls a familiar voice. You open the door. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Player?” he says, barely glancing up from his paperwork.

You’re floored. “How did you—?”

“How could I not? I’d have to be a fool not to recognize you,” He says, putting his pen down. Dehya bristles, but doesn’t say anything. Alhaitham rises from his seat and beckons you all inside. Once the door is closed, he continues. “Now, then. I take it you have some matter of great importance you want my help with?”

“Yes! So, here’s the the thing...”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“You’re…going to rescue the Dendro Archon…?” Everyone gapes at you. It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. You laugh nervously.

“Yes! But, um, only if you’re willing to help me. I can’t do it on my own,” you say, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“How would you even…?” Dunyarzad murmurs, looking dazed.

“Before I answer that, there’s something else I need to tell you about. You, uh, may want to sit down for this.” Everyone raises an eyebrow, but no one moves to sit. “Please,” you say. Sighing, Tighnari takes a seat on the floor. Cyno joins him soon after. Soon, everyone save for yourself and Arasay have seated themselves, and you begin.

“How do you know about me?” You ask, looking around. Your gaze settles on Tighnari.

“We’ve all felt your presence,” he says tentatively, as if worried that may be the wrong answer.

“How?”

“You’ve taken control of several of us,” Cyno says. “And we’ve felt your gaze through the Traveler as well.”

“Aha!” Several people look startled by your exclamation, but you pay them no mind. “That’s wrong. The Traveler never came to Sumeru. You couldn’t have possibly felt me from them. Not to mention, I never took control over any of you before I got to Sumeru,” you say, looking over at them triumphantly.

“What are you…?”

“You shouldn’t know about me,” you say. One by one, you watch with victory as everyone begins to clutch at their heads and lean over. By the time the first one passes out, you’re glad you had the foresight to ask them to sit for this.

You wait for everyone to recover, which thankfully doesn’t take long. “So,” you say, looking over everyone’s faces to make sure they’re lucid. “Here’s the plan: we’re going to reuse your and the Traveler’s plan to free the Dendro Archon.”

“The plan took place on Jnagarbha day,” Alhaitham says. “To fully recreate the plan, we’d have to wait months until-”

“Forget that,” Arasay says. “The real problem is the Grand Sage, right? He’s the one keeping Buer locked up. Just take him out. Problem solved.” Everyone goes quiet. What an…unexpectedly brutal solution. Though you suppose he is a former Harbinger.

“Can…can we do that?”

Come to think of it…there are a lot less variables involved now than there were in the original story. The Traveler had to deal with Dottore and Scaramouche, but ‘Scaramouche’ is on your side now, and Dottore is still in Sneznaya. Maybe you don’t have to come up with some big, convoluted plan to take down the Akademiya. Maybe you really can just solve your problems with violence.

“Okay, let’s do it.” Everyone gapes at you, but you hold firm. “When should we start?”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Taking out the Grand Sage was pretty easy. All you had to do was walk into his office and knock him out. From there, you just went up to the Sanctuary of Surathana, once again knocking out whoever stood in your way.

Finally, you’re here. You can see Nahida sleeping in the giant meditation chamber. You’re so close to freedom that you can practically taste it. But first…

“Um, so…does anyone know how to deactivate this thing?” You ask sheepishly.

Alhaitham steps up, walking to some mechanism in front of the chamber. He messes with it for a few minutes before the chamber opens up.

Nahida opens her eyes.

“What’s going on?”

“I’d like to speak with you alone, if that’s alright,” you say, stepping forward. You glance back at your friends (can you call them that now?). You feel pretty bad about dragging them here just to kick them out, but what you’re about to say needs to remain confidential. Everyone except for Arasay leaves to wait outside. Once you’re sure they’re gone, you begin to explain your situation. You tell Nahida about how you got here, why you left Snezhnaya, and why you saved her. You tell her you’ll help her save Sumeru from forbidden knowledge if she hosts and protects you and Arasay in exchange. Additionally, you promise to her that Arasay will give her special knowledge about the ‘sky’ if she promises not to hand her gnosis to the Fatui. Arasay nearly protests at the mention of this, but one pleading look is all it takes to shut him up. Finally, you finish your story. “Please help us,” you say.

"Okay," she says.

Taglist: @Mmeatt @Shikanosn @Sangoqueenkoko @Vianitry @Lacedribbns @Springkuinn @Clavichordcleffa @starshinesama @kamit-frog @agaygothicmushroom @ash1

#self aware genshin #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact sagau #sagau #genshin sagau #yandere scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere dottore #yandere harbingers

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faith-forgxtten-land · 2 years

Note

Since you mentioned Harwin… (smut pleek)

Princess | Harwin Strong

i had no idea what you wanted other than *harwin* so i hope you like this!! (tho the title sucks so bad but i’m too lazy to think of a better one)

warnings: smut, 18+, mentions of loss of virginity?, bits of fluff ig, fem!reader (?) x harwin but other than that there’s no specifications!

idk how to do this warning shit ngl. also my first time writing smut and you didn’t really specify so… also it’s not proof read at all so read at your own risk

summary: the morning after ser harwin breakbones carries his princess to safety and has his way with her

word count: 1.2k (ish)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Whispers of dawn kissed her cheeks, bursts of gold rallying against the dark of her closed eyes, and the Princess smiled against the softness of her pillow as she registered the warm weight slung over her bare hips.

Harwin’s calloused hand was splayed against her stomach, holding her close throughout the night and break of day. Her smile grew wider as he grumbled unintelligibly and his grip tightened. She could only spare half a thought for her dear sister - poor Rhaenyra stuck with a heartbroken Laenor on her wedding night - as she felt her new found lover stir.

“Good morning, Princess.”

His voice, deep and still cloaked in sleep, was laced with a sense of smug satisfaction she would have found insufferable on anyone else. Luckily for Ser Harwin Strong, she found him far too endearing for her own good. “Good morning, Ser.”

She could feel his lazy grin against her shoulder as he peppered gentle kisses along her smooth skin. “So proper,” he teased as his kisses reached the slope of her neck.

“I’m a Princess,” she sniffed, tilting her head.

He smirked and bit her neck lightly, “A dirty Princess, what would your father think?”

Holding in her whimper, the Princess arched a brow despite knowing he couldn’t possibly see it. “I’d rather not think of my father at all, thank you.”

Harwin hummed as he nuzzled her jawline. His heated breath made her shiver and his grin widened. Last night felt like a dream - one he’d had many, many times over the past few moons. A dream that was often accompanied by his hand in his trousers after. King Viserys would have his head on a spike if he ever found out just what the knight had done to his precious daughter, but Harwin couldn’t find it in him to care much. He had the most beautiful woman in Westeros in his arms and he wasn’t about to let any man - King or not - stop him from relishing this moment.

She turned to face him and his heart stuttered at the softness in her eyes as she smiled. No one had looked at him like that before, certainly not a Princess.

“What?”

His own smile turned just as soft. “You’re beautiful.”

She snorted lightly and he had to stop himself from looking like a complete idiot and confessing his love and adoration at the sound. “Rhaenyra is the Realm’s Delight.”

He couldn’t help himself; he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead and grasped her chin delicately in his large hand. Gods when had he last been this gentle with anyone? She seemed so small compared to him - although most people were small to him - and his chest felt tight in the best possible way as he looked at her. “You are the most breathtaking woman I have ever seen.”

A blush crept up her neck and Harwin smiled smugly at the sight. She had been so confident the night prior, seeing her uncharacteristic shyness before him now made his cock stiffen and, judging by her deepening flush, she could feel it too. “You’re the first man I’ve lain with,” she admitted.

He didn’t tell her that he hoped he’d be the only man she’d ever lie with. Instead he opted for the safer choice, “Well one union had to be consummated, Gods knows your sister’s wasn’t.”

She gasped indignantly and slapped his chest. “Ser Harwin!”

Clasping her hand to his chest, he leaned over. “Yes, Princess?” He was lying fully on top of her now and he felt his pride swell as her eyes flickered to his lips.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I figured that having fucked the King’s daughter, a few jests on his heir’s behalf couldn’t make things much worse.” He grinned as she gaped up at him and took the opportunity to finally kiss her lips again.

She moaned quietly as she parted her lips for his tongue. Harwin made her feel a thousand things at once. She couldn’t tell if she was excited or scared or shy or offended anymore, all she knew for certain was the very obvious effect he had on her body.

The Princess had resigned herself to admiring the knight from afar until he had carried her to her rooms during the commotion at Rhaenyra’s wedding. Having him in her rooms after saving her like that… how was she meant to resist him?

She was no damsel in need of saving like in one of the stories her mother had told her as a child, but being tossed over his strong shoulder after he had immediately stepped into the fray to save her set off the butterflies in her stomach.

It was wrong. Her father would lose his mind if he found out, especially after the recent rumours of her sister’s indiscretions. But she couldn’t ignore the thought that he might consent to a match between them and her groan as Harwin slipped his hand between her thighs was far louder than she had expected.

“You’re so wet for me, Princess.”

She groaned again and shut her eyes, unable to stop herself from grinding against the palm of his hand as he fucked her with his fingers. Harwin didn’t bother to disguise his own groan as he watched his fingers disappear into her over and over.

“Look at me.”

It took an embarrassing amount of effort for her eyes to open and find his. His intense stare alone almost pushed her over the edge.

“You’re going to look at me while you come undone on my fingers, Princess.”

She couldn’t hold back her whimper. “Yes,” she breathed.

Harwin grinned at her. “Good girl.” He added a third finger and watched as she struggled to keep her orgasm at bay. Gods she was stunning: legs spread wide just for him, hair wild against her pillow and her chest flushed.

“Harwin.”

“Princess?”

She could barely form a sentence. “Please.”

“Use your words.”

A brilliant shade of pink covered her cheeks. She’d never felt so submissive in her life. She was a Princess, she wasn’t meant to take orders from those beneath her, and yet here she was acting like a whore - on the verge of begging - for a mere knight. Gods she loved it. “I can feel it, please.”

“Such a good Princess,” Harwin murmured as his fingers found her clitoris. Her moans were so loud he almost feared the entirety of the Red Keep would hear but he didn’t stop and he didn’t dare tell her to be quiet. “Let go for me.”

He felt her shudder around his digits and he stared, transfixed, at the way her thighs shook and her bosom heaved. Her moans gradually turned to soft whimpers and Harwin made sure she watched as he licked his fingers clean. She tasted even better than she had last night.

It took a few minutes for his Princess to catch her shaky breath and Harwin swallowed roughly as he studied the glisten of sweat on her brow. “I suppose I ought to do the honourable thing now.”

The Princess looked at him in confusion, mind still clouded with pleasure. “Honourable thing?”

He couldn’t stop himself this time. “I’m going to love you, wed you and fuck you for the rest of your life, Princess.”

3K notes · View notes

yanfeisty · 1 year

Text

— Voicelines about Creator!Reader (Inazuma) ♡ ！

⊹ [ characters ] — Ayaka, Ayato, Ei, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kazuha, Kokomi, Sara, Sayu, Shinobu, Thoma, Yae Miko & Yoimiya. ◞

⊹ [ synopsis ] — let's see what they think about you. ◞

⊹ [ cw ] — religious themes. ◞

⠀‣ Ayaka

About The Creator: Divine Presence

"It's always a pleasure to have Our God blessing the festivities we prepared with their presence, the sun and moon appear to shine brighter when they're here, and the people happier. It surely makes me happy to see them enjoying the festival..."

About The Creator: Consort

"As an Acolyte and a member of the Kamisato clan, it is a great honor to be Their Grace's consort... But if I may tell my more personal feelings, I feel at ease with Y/n, like I can be myself, I don't feel like people want to know more about us beyond our positions, but when we're together we don't have any titles separating us. Have you seen the beautiful scenery of the sun at dawn dazzling on Inazuma? Their smile are alike."

⠀

⠀‣ Ayato

About The Creator: Divine Ceremonies

"It is the duty of the Yashiro Commission to held festivities in Their Grace's name, such as welcoming parties, the day of their descent, and birthday of course, while trying to fit their taste. With all due respect, I have to say their opinions are quite interesting... You see, playing tcg wouldn't be the first idea I'd have for an official ceremony."

About The Creator: Consort

"Hm... So you wish to know more about our union? I suppose I can share with you a few things. We sadly don't have much time for each other as we're quite busy with our own matters, therefore I try to express my feelings in letters and presents. They did tell me it was useless to spoil them with such 'overexpensive' gifts, but... the sight of their lovely face trying to suppress a smile won't ever stop to amuse me... Besides, no price comes close to my love for Y/n."

⠀

⠀‣ Raiden Shogun

About The Creator: Remaining Soul

"Their body may have perished, but their creations never have once forgot about them. Now, they have been reincarnated into this fragile body, but they are slowly regaining their power as it has remained into the memory of the land. This is eternity at its purest form."

⠀‣ Ei

About The Creator: Consort

"Ah, my exceptional lover. In many ways they have changed my daily routine, I tried things I would never have done before, that I considered futile for my quest of pursuing eternity. But they made me realized even the smallest actions, no matter if they last for long or not, can bring an eternal feeling to one, for exemple the pleasure of eating a dessert is temporary, but the memory of its delicious taste will always be unchanging and bring happiness to the one remembering it. I accepted their proposal as a promise that by my side they shall remain joyful forevermore."

⠀

⠀‣ Gorou

About The Creator: Prayers

"I have heard few of my soldiers praying that none of their comrades or themselves would die before any serious battles or missions, I'm not really a religious person but I can't blame them, if this help them to have courage then why not?"

About The Creator: Consort

"They have brought a lot of help to Watatsumi Island, and that was even before we get together! What I love about them is that they're always so caring with whoever, they're so kind-hearted... They have lots of others qualities too, they're beautiful, funny, cunning, and the list goes on. They also must have some sort of magic in their hands, always finding my best spot to rub... H-hm, that st-stay between us, of cou-rse, I don't want them to tease me about it..."

⠀

⠀‣ Heizou

About The Creator: An interesting Case

"Quite the intriguing person, aren't they? I'm not really into godly affairs but I have to admit that them waking up with not only no memories of their past life but new ones from another world is quite...hm, intriguing."

About The Creator: Consort

"They truly have no shame for playing and stealing the heart of a member of the Tenryou Commission, they used my own tricks to make me fall over heels for them and now I don't think I can recover. Sadly their title make it impossible for me to arrest them and make them face justice, but that doesn't mean I can't teach them a lesson with my own ways..."

⠀

⠀‣ Itto

About The Creator: Ultimate Battle

"I didn't think much of them before they challenged me to a duel of tcg! Of course, I accepted it, I'm not the one to run away from a challenge and people from everywhere knows them, winning against them means that everyone will know the name of Arataki 'The Ultimate TCG Champion' Itto, ha! The one who defeated The Creator with no fear, people would never dare to fight me again, as the simple mention of my name strikes fear into my opponents, hehe... Huh? Did I actually beat them? Well... not yet, but it's only a matter of time before glory fall upon me!"

About The Creator: Consort

"The wha-? Oh yeah, sorry, I'm not used to call them that, I mostly use 'My ultimate bro', 'My one and oni', 'My onikaboo-boo', 'Cutie-sweetie-you-wish-you-had-them-ie-but-you-can't-because-this-lovely-is-the-lover-of-this-oni'. But yeah, they're fantastic, they help me to get out of jail, though sometimes they say I deserve it and leave me there... But besides that, they're an excellent cuddle buddy, always knowing how to brush my hair and horns not too delicately but not too rou-... Hey! What are you laughing at? Oh... So you think that's funny that the fierce leader of the Arataki gang have a cuddle buddy? Pff... I don't care what you think and I'm sure you're just jealous."

⠀

⠀‣ Kazuha

About The Creator: Independence

"Everywhere I go their name is on everyone's lips, I have heard they were kind and thoughtful, but what I recall best is their free spirit and wish to explore all of Teyvat, including the people but the responsibilities they have to shoulder prevent them from realizing their ambitions... Like a bird in a cage."

About The Creator: Consort

"To be truthful with you, I was hesitant of this offer, I love them with all my heart more than anything else, but what does being a consort means? I wanted to continue my life with the loving carefree spirit I fell in love with not The Creator, I was concerned that we would be tied by others' expectations and wouldn't be able to live our life freely. But... they know me best and reassured me that none of this would happen. I'll be forever grateful that our paths met, they know how to comfort me."

⠀

⠀‣ Kokomi

About The Creator

"It is difficult to know whom can you put your trust in, and if so how much amount. The Creator have proven we can trust them to help Watatsumi Island, and as its Divine Priestess I'm deeply thankful to what they have done for us. But I started to fully trust them when I discussed with them, their help didn't have any other intention than just being an act of kindness... I'm slightly concerned that others will abuse of their sympathy, but I'll be there in case that happens."

⠀

⠀‣ Sara

About The Creator

"The Raiden Shogun and myself are both Acolytes of The Creator, and since The Shogun worships them I shall give them my undying loyalty and forever assist them. Even if... their casual personality and peculiar behavior during official ceremonies is quite questionable for a God..."

⠀

⠀‣ Sayu

About The Creator

"I heard about them but only saw them once, I saw their hand going towards my head so I quickly avoided it, turned out they wanted to ruffle my hair, unlike head pats I don't think it will stop me from growing so I let them, but that made me feel even more sleepy."

⠀

⠀‣ Shinobu

About The Creator

"I have to thank them for saving us from difficult situations which even I couldn't do anything. The gang really love them especially the Boss, they're easy going and it's easy to forget they're the most superior being in all of Teyvat, they could have been one of us but of course their position doesn't allow them, but like the Boss said they're an official-but-not-really-member-of-The-Arataki-gang."

⠀

⠀‣ Thoma

About The Creator: Fun Activities

"They're very different from The Shogun, they don't really seek for an ideal like the Archons, they just simply want to enjoy life in Teyvat, haha... They've surprised me with asking if they could play the hotpot game, and I can tell you it was very fun, though I really need to pay attention to what ingredients I put... The others would probably kill me if Y/n even just has a small brain freeze, hehe..."

About The Creator: Consort

"Yes, I've heard people saying 'how can they marry a simple housekeeper?' and I have to say I wonder the same, ahaha... They're so lovely and a kind-hearted soul, I still can't believe they proposed to me, it feels like a dream when I'm with them. And we're partners in crimes when it comes to feeding and petting every stray animals in Inazuma, if you saw how easily they attract animals, it took me days to explain to every pet owners why did their pet suddenly disappeared..."

⠀

⠀‣ Yae Miko

About The Creator: Divine inspiration

"Ah yes, they're a great inspiration and pretty much all of our books related to them sell like hotcakes, we're currently on the 3rd volume of 'Divine Expressions for Dummies', we also do novels that are loosely based on them, 'Next thing I knew... I was a Deity', 'Me and My 100 Spouses' and one of my favorites is 'The Fake God' it is quite the tragedy and not the happiest book, but the end where the main character has their revenge is... satisfying."

About The Creator: Consort

"My, my, curious, aren't you? I can't really blame you, an individual like Y/n is quite the partner, a boring moment doesn't last long with them, they're just so fun to tease and their hands are very soft a perfect recommendation for everyone with fur. Hm? Everyone keeps telling you about how good they pet them? Oh well, I guess I can't blame those people, but I'll have to discuss this with Y/n when I see them..."

⠀

⠀‣ Yoimiya

About The Creator: A Shared Enthusiasm

"Y/n! Have you seen them? They're always so busy... Sometimes they come to buy me fireworks whenever if they want to keep it as a souvenir of Inazuma or asking me if we can use them together. Fireworks don't need to wait for festivals to be used, and what is cool is that with Y/n no one dares to contradict them and tell us when and where we can't do fireworks, ahh... I hope I'll see them again soon."

About The Creator: Consort

"Unbelievable, right? If we have told me I would marry a God one day I would've laugh at them. When I met Y/n I didn't even know about their true identity, but lemme tell you, them creating Teyvat and all is the least interesting part about them, they're sweet and fun, they always tell stories about their other world and the kids and I love them so much. And they share my passion for fireworks! We're planning to do the biggest fireworks show that can be seen in all of Teyvat at the same time, even if they're lots of things we didn't consider but the thought is beautiful, isn't it? Aha... Also when I told pops about me and Y/n he couldn't stop smiling for the whole week! Though, I'm not sure if he understood the part that I told it was 'The Creator'."

@ ་ ׅ : @haileyo0ostuff

#Genshin x reader #Genshin impact x reader #Sagau #Ayaka x reader #Ayato x reader #Ei x reader #Gorou x reader #Heizou x reader #Itto x reader #Kazuha x reader #Thoma x reader #Yae miko x reader #Yoimiya x reader #Sayu #sangonomiya kokomi #kuki shinobu #kujou sara #genshin creator au

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sensualnoiree · 1 month

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astro notes: the moon & her phases 🌚

The Moon, with its soft, glowing presence in the night sky, has captivated human beings for millennia. Beyond its physical beauty, the Moon holds profound symbolic and esoteric meanings in various mystical traditions, particularly in alchemy. Dive into the alchemical and esoteric properties of the Moon, explore its significance as a symbol of inner transformation, spiritual enlightenment, and the depths of the human psyche.

Cycle of Transformation: The Moon's phases, from the dark New Moon to the full illumination of the Full Moon and back again, symbolize the cyclical nature of life, death, and rebirth. This mirrors the alchemical process of transformation, where base materials are purified and transmuted into a higher form.

🌑 New Moon: The New Moon marks the beginning of the lunar cycle, where the Moon is not visible in the sky. Symbolically, this phase represents the darkness before the dawn, the void from which all creation emerges. In alchemy, it corresponds to the initial stage of the alchemical process, known as Calcination. This is the stage where the base materials, representing the raw and unrefined aspects of the self, are broken down and purified through the fires of transformation.

🌘 Waxing Crescent: As the Moon begins to wax, or grow larger, after the New Moon, it enters the Waxing Crescent phase. This phase symbolizes growth, intention setting, and the planting of seeds. In the alchemical journey, this corresponds to the stage of Dissolution, where the purified elements begin to coalesce and take shape, laying the groundwork for further growth and development.

🌗 First Quarter: The First Quarter Moon marks the halfway point between the New Moon and the Full Moon. Symbolically, it represents a time of challenges, decisions, and action. In alchemy, this phase corresponds to the stage of Separation, where the purified elements are refined further, and the unnecessary or detrimental aspects are discarded. This is a crucial step in the process of transformation, where clarity and discernment are necessary to move forward.

🌖 Waxing Gibbous: As the Moon continues to wax, it enters the Waxing Gibbous phase, where it approaches full illumination. This phase symbolizes refinement, integration, and preparation for the culmination of the cycle. In alchemy, this corresponds to the stage of Conjunction, where the purified elements are brought together and integrated to form a harmonious whole. It is a time of synthesis and alignment, as the individual aspects of the self merge into a unified whole.

🌕 Full Moon: The Full Moon is the peak of the lunar cycle when the Moon is fully illuminated in the night sky. Symbolically, it represents illumination, fulfillment, and the realization of intentions. In alchemy, this corresponds to the stage of Fermentation, where the purified elements reach their peak potency and transformation is complete. It is a time of celebration and revelation, as the alchemist experiences a profound sense of union with the divine and the cosmos.

🌔 Waning Gibbous: After the Full Moon, the Moon begins to wane, or decrease in illumination, entering the Waning Gibbous phase. This phase symbolizes reflection, gratitude, and the release of what no longer serves. In alchemy, this corresponds to the stage of Distillation, where the essence of the transformed elements is extracted and purified further. It is a time of consolidation and integration, as the alchemist reflects on the lessons learned and prepares for the next phase of the journey.

🌓 Last Quarter: The Last Quarter Moon marks the halfway point between the Full Moon and the New Moon. Symbolically, it represents surrender, letting go, and clearing space for new beginnings. In alchemy, this phase corresponds to the stage of Coagulation, where the purified elements solidify and take on their final form. It is a time of resolution and closure, as the alchemist integrates the lessons of the journey and prepares to embark on a new cycle of transformation.

follow for more astro insights like this and support me over on yt @quenysefields or instagram sensualnoiree

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voidpetrova · 8 months

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partners in crime — klaus mikaelson x reader

☄. *. ⋆

content warnings and genre: none in particular, requested one-shot — comfort

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

synopsis: you were as twisted as him, and he adored you for it

✧.*

in the heart of new orleans, where darkness and mystique intertwined, an unlikely partnership thrived. klaus mikaelson, the infamous hybrid vampire, had always been a force to be reckoned with. ruthless and cunning, he was known throughout the supernatural world for his audacious schemes and thirst for power.yet, even the most formidable of creatures couldn't resist the allure of a dangerous accomplice, and in this case, that partner was you.

you were no ordinary vampire. you were a heretic, a rare breed born from the unholy union of vampire and witch, wielding both the immortal strength of a vampire and the potent magic of a witch. the stories of your malevolence echoed through the centuries, leaving behind a trail of destruction and fear. klaus had first crossed paths with you in the dark, clandestine corners of the city. a chance meeting turned into a partnership fueled by a shared desire for chaos. together, you embarked on a campaign of mischief and malevolence, weaving your way through the intricate tapestry of power struggles that defined new orleans.

your alliance didn't merely thrive on bloodlust and destruction; it thrived on strategy and cunning. klaus, with his penchant for manipulation, and you, with your mastery over dark magic, were a formidable duo. you orchestrated elaborate heists, sowed discord among rival supernatural factions, and left behind a trail of baffled adversaries who underestimated the malevolence of your partnership.

one of your most audacious acts was the infiltration of a high-profile society gala, hosted by the most influential witch coven in the city. you and klaus masqueraded as guests, seamlessly blending into the crowd. as the night wore on, you unleashed a torrent of dark magic that sent chandeliers crashing, and illusions that played tricks on the minds of the attendees.

klaus reveled in the chaos you created, watching with a wicked grin as the once-coherent gathering descended into chaos and madness. It was in these moments, as you both reveled in the malevolent beauty of your actions, that he couldn't help but feel an undeniable attraction to your power and your wickedness.

as dawn broke over new orleans, you and klaus vanished into the shadows, leaving behind a city forever altered by your malevolent partnership. the world may have deemed you both as monsters, but in each other's eyes, you were the perfect accomplices, two dark souls united in their thirst for power and their love for the evil they created together.

one time, the night was draped in a velvet darkness, concealing your every move as you and klaus stood in the shadows of the mikaelson mansion. the moon, like a pale witness to your impending malevolence, cast eerie shadows across the cobblestone courtyard. klaus, his cerulean eyes dancing with anticipation, leaned in closer to you. “my dearest (y/n),” he purred, his voice dripping with honeyed menace. “tonight, we shall take another step towards our rightful dominion over this city.”

a devilish grin curved your lips as you responded, your voice laced with the promise of chaos. “i know we will. the witches have grown too comfortable, too complacent. it's time we remind them of our power.”

the plan was simple in its intricacy. you had uncovered a secret, a buried legend from new orleans' supernatural history. an ancient grimoire spoke of a powerful artifact hidden beneath the city, capable of granting unimaginable power to any who possessed it. the witches held the key to this artifact, and tonight, it would be yours.

as the mansion's clock struck midnight, you and klaus moved with preternatural grace, infiltrating the ancestral witch house where the coven held their most precious artifacts. the scent of ancient magic filled the air as you approached a cryptic door, adorned with intricate symbols. with a knowing glance, you murmured an incantation, and the door creaked open, revealing a chamber bathed in an eerie blue glow. there, resting on a pedestal, was the coveted artifact—a mystical amulet, pulsating with power.

klaus's eyes widened as he beheld the object of their desire. “remarkable,” he breathed, reaching out to touch it. but you halted him with a firm hand. “not so fast,” you cautioned. “the amulet is protected by ancient enchantments. we must proceed with caution.”

together, you unraveled the intricate web of magic guarding the amulet. each step was perilous, as one wrong move could unleash catastrophic consequences. the air crackled with energy as you manipulated the spells, your heretic abilities and klaus's vampiric strength intertwining seamlessly.

at last, the final barrier fell, and klaus gingerly lifted the amulet from its pedestal. power radiated from it, coursing through his veins. “now, my dear,” he declared, his voice trembling with a heady mix of excitement and greed, “we'll be ruling this city in no time.”

but just as klaus marveled at the amulet, a voice echoed through the chamber—a disembodied whisper that sent shivers down your spine. “you have awakened the darkness,” it intoned. “prepare to face the consequences.”

the room quaked, and the walls seemed to close in on you. you and klaus exchanged frantic glances as the amulet's power threatened to consume you both. it was a perilous gamble, one that could either solidify your reign or bring about your doom. and as the chamber trembled around you, you and him clung to the amulet, your fate uncertain. but in this moment of chaos and uncertainty, your partnership burned brighter than ever, a beacon of malevolence in the heart of the supernatural world.

#tvd #tvdu #the originals #legacies #klaus x reader #klaus imagine #klaus fanfiction #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson fanfiction #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson angst #klaus mikaelson fluff #klaus mikaelson smut

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lovelykhaleesiii · 11 months

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Pretty plz can we get dom!aegon wedding night breeding smut. They r definitely not attending breakfast (or lunch) the nxt day and no one can look them in the eye. Thx & love u

apologies for the wait nonnie, hope you enjoy this x

Union of the Dragon & the Wolf.

PAIRING: King!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Stark!Reader

WORDS: 4,764.

WARNINGS: dom!Aegon, swearing, breeding kink to the maxxxx, mentions of dub-con.

A/N - please I keep getting carried away in the plot, and I rushed the ending a little with some time jumps, but I fully support and am in love with dom Aeg. he can dick me down anyday idc.

Historically and in the lifetimes that would follow, unions had been forged between a man and woman, since the dawn of time. For a plethora of reasons, destined or compelled, such unions were established regardless of circumstance or consequence... For the most part, such marriages had been strategically arranged accordingly, the greed or pride of families whom endlessly sought political, financial, or hierarchical means, with the intention to gain some precedence, was unfavourably common. However for some rather fortunate souls, although in rarity, love would quintessentially blossom.

And yet, the latter could not yet be said upon your circumstance..

"Brother- brother, please-"

Hastily sprinting towards him, your meek body blocking his taller, cloaked mass from exiting the familiar door to your private chambers, latching yourself firmly onto his arm. You refused to dismiss nor allow him leave so suddenly without even an attempt to refute. Taking a stand against the laws of men.

“Please, I beg before you brother, before the merciful eyes of the Old Gods, d-do not ask this of me. I have done and will do anything you ask of me, anything except this.”

A mere, defeated sigh escapes your elder brother's agape mouth, bested against your pleas. There was no point in quarrelling with you, you'd presumed as he remained still in a neutral, stoic state. You’d never witnessed your elder brother bested: whatever the words that had been so methodically exchanged in King’s Landing, you would remain oblivious to, and yet it was your life that was destined to change.

"I-I am truly sorry, my sweet sister... We ride at the crack of dawn in the morrow, get some rest."

"Cregan!" You helplessly call out, although your arms with a mind of their own loosen their grip, as the older brunette flees your side. A haste betrothal in the midst, your King husband-to be awaits for your gracious hand...

****

The journey was tiresome and gruelling, yet the moment you'd stepped foot in King's Landing, the arrangements had been swift and thoughtless.

And as infuriated as Cregan had become, huffing and puffing as he disembarked from his trusted stead to your side. Failing to be discrete with his annoyance of the King's absence, you whisper calmly as to yield his fury, in return he reassuringly holds your smaller hand in his, aiding you out of the carriage. Your Northern party had been welcomed and greeted by the Dowager Queen, herself, and his royal Grandsire, the Hand, and a few other golden cloaks of the Kingsguard. No King in sight before you, your deviant, wandering eyes, having mindlessly grown deaf to the conversation at hand, you kept yourself busy, gazing over the strange, concrete monuments that would eventually bound to become your new "home". As your curious eyes scanned the stony scenery, it was only when you backtracked, catching a faint glimpse of someone, intently peering down from an above watchtower window: some man you could only make out, with the peculiar, moonlight tinged hair. Uncertain if it was Aegon himself, there was no crown bestowed on the stranger's head, not that you could definitively decipher from such a great distance, and yet with great certainty you knew they belonged to someone with the blood of Old Valyria coursing through their veins...

Much to your favour once more, the unsettling tension that had been churning in the pit of your stomach throughout the wearisome ride, had finally resided. Allowing yourself to breathe whatever 'fresh' air the city had to offer: unlike the crisp, chill air you'd grown to admire of the North, this foreign place held a pungent, damp smell you could only fathom time would ease your distaste for it. This had been your first venture to King's Landing, only having heard of its reputation, your expectations were not grand however, and based on the reason for your visit, you felt an even deeper reluctance to be here. You did not wish to see him so soon, hopeful in buying any ounce of precious time to acclimate to the changes, at the very least...

****

Not a single person had asked for your input in the elaborate plans for your wedding, for all the details had been discussed and devised accordingly, before your anticipated arrival. Including your wedding gown: it was beautiful needless to say, immediately catching your eye as you'd been led to enter the compartment of your private, royal chamber. [Separate from Aegon for the night undoubtedly, as Alicent decreed in tradition of the Seven.] Adorned with brilliant, clear crystals from what you could only presume had been sourced from far away lands, the fine details of the profiles of a dragon sigil and that of your own house, entwined artistically together on the bust of the gown, embodying the royal union to follow. Despite the vanquished feeling that swallowed you whole since departing home, there was relief in not having to shed a single thought in such plans. You had much doubt that Aegon had taken part in such arrangements either, for his reputation much like his Kingdom, was notorious.

The young King although struck with sorrow of the great losses incurred during the war between himself and his past elder sister, Rhaenyra Targaryen, for the rightful claim to the throne, he had mounted victorious, nonetheless. And although the North had initially and solemnly declared to side with the elder Princess, it seemed whatever transgressions had been spoken and seemingly forgiven between Cregan and Aegon, you, the younger sister of a former traitor house, was chosen fit to be Queen, by the King himself. And although Cregan was adamant that you remain home governing and supporting those left behind in the North during the war, you'd heard from the honest mouths of returning Northmen soldiers of exploits of the battles. Earnestly you would listen to the drunk and somber whispers that the King was left charred and scarred, wounded from active battle, yet had miraculously survived to return to his throne. Some had exaggerated their words, exclaiming that the King was left brutally disfigured, that only the copious supply of whores he had sought and so generously paid, would bid him a night full of pleasure, since his sister-wife has passed.

Lonesomely left to ponder over endless, fretful thoughts, of how this union came to be and what would become of it, you felt that perhaps there were some potential grounds that Aegon and yourself were not so unalike. Both stricken with the concept of grief, perhaps something could be salvaged of this ransom union.

****

After a slight quarrel with your elder brother, begging to be excused from the dinner tonight, Dowager Queen Alicent, surprisingly had granted you leave. You did not refute her dismissal, nor did Cregan wish to contend with her. She knew the strains such arrangements could bear it seemed, although guaranteed you "commit to the bedding ceremony thoroughly."

"My eldest and only living son, he requires an heir. Jaehaera, although his blood, is much to timid and grief stricken, let alone, a girl... It would not be wise for her to be heir, Aegon knows this. Prove yourself to be a good wife, and bear him many children, preferably sons, if the Gods are good."

Her final, daunting words, leaving you no seconds to spare to muster a response: although regardless, no words came to your mind. Perhaps the weight of the crown, needed to be dispersed, and Aegon deemed you fit to sovereign with him. Nonetheless, the expectations from the Crown and his council of you were made clear. Children, heirs... That was all that was required of you in principal. That familiar, perturbed feeling began to toss and churn in your stomach once more, gaining little sleep before the monumental day.

****

The preparation, carriage ride and the haunting walk down the aisle leading into the decorative, grand Dragonpit, upon the watchful, eager eyes of the realm, was nothing but a blur. Your disconsolate eyes remained fixated, anxiously fleeting between the cheerful crowd and the guarded path before you, you did not sight your awaiting husband before you. Attentively watching you from the podium above, as he did the day you had arrived [or so you had convinced yourself it was him to be]. Your mind solely occupied with controlling your breath and its pace, soothing the pounding beat of your thudding heart, you swore would at any moment it would simply tear through your chest, ending it all right then and there. Although, the feelings had ceased to numbness, the moment you'd reached the stony steps to the stage. A black gloved hand stretched over towards you from above, signalling you to take, which you instinctively took, unaware of whose hand you held. Careful of each step, it was only when you'd come to a sudden halt beside the King himself, that you'd noticed Aegon moment Aegon unveiled your face to his. For a few moments his stunning, lilac eyes remained transfixed onto your own. Your breath hitched in your throat, as you took in his face: as you'd suspected the words of your fellow banner-men were greatly false. The King, although, his stern face partially scarred, burns somewhat healed, he remained handsome nonetheless, and looking upon you, you'd momentarily noticed his gaze soften before your eyes flashed to the ground before you. Feeling your cheeks grow scarlet, and a flustering heat trailing through you, you felt clueless as to why.

Sacred vows had been said and made, your hands binded by a precious cloth of the faith, signatures signed on lawful papers, and finally, custom rings exchanged sealed with a simple yet passionate kiss: Aegon did not protest against the proceedings of the ceremony, and nor did you find yourself tempted to run either.

Although, he recited deeply and firmly of said vows, no words had been exchanged between either of you, on the return carriage to the castle, nor during the feast. Sat meekly beside your newly appointed husband, you remained quiet as did Aegon, unless his fellow guests and subjects approach to wish the King and his new wife well wishes. Most of the time, Aegon occupied his mouth with swirls of wine and ale, and the platefuls served to him. With your elder brother by your opposing side, with whom you refused to engage in conversation with throughout the entirety of the day.

Look at the position he had forced you into, how hopeless you had become, and how they belittled you. Was Cregan so blind to the intentions of such a brutal institution, or was he simply being cowardice for his past grievances?

Regardless, the plans that had been lucratively discussed were now executed accordingly, and the thing you'd been dreading the most was finally upon you. Alicent had granted you approval to leave once more, planting a tender kiss on your forehead, bidding you farewell and "best wishes."

"Do us proud, and please... Make it easier for yourself and do as you are told, dearest. If anything I've learnt in my years or wished to have been told, is the only man you need to sate is that of your husband. No one else matters."

Chaperoned with a few, entrusted maids, and Cregan himself, you reluctantly turn to look back at Aegon, who still remained seated at the dining table. Much to your astonishment, however, you'd been met with his own stern pair of eyes, fixated on you solely once more, you could've sworn, you'd caught a haste glimpse of a slight smirk strewn across his face. That unsettling feeling grew more intense by the thought, had he found this amusing? Only the Gods, would know what ill thoughts and intentions he had with you for the night, yet you would soon find out.

****

Swiftly changed out of your wedding garments, and into a white silk bedding gown instead, you were left in an unfamiliar room, grander than the one you'd previously slept in. Aegon's you'd presumed.

A sudden, booming knock on the door had startled you with fright, although followed by the familiar tone of Cregan's voice, naturally you felt a warm reassurance wash over you, placing a robe over you in modesty, before opening the door to his friendly, lean face.

"My dearest sister, I did not wish to interrupt you-"

"Have you come to save me from this wretched night then?"

You firmly interrupt, although you teased, Cregan could not bear to look at you, defeatedly turning his guilty gaze towards his shuffling feet.

"I-I had yet to apologise, Y/N. F-for all of this. I truly am sorry, little sister but I-I had no choice. H-He would've sent us all to the Wall, or worse to death, and you-you would've been all alone-"

"Cregan, it is alright. I-I may struggle to understand it now, but I know you did what was best for us. You always do."

No other words had been exchanged, except for a nod and a final goodbye for the night. Like the Queen before you, Cregan planted a final, loving kiss to your forehead, before bidding you well. He knew what was to come, what was expected between a man and woman on the night of their union, and he refused to venture. Closing the door before him, you were left once more alone, the muffled music of the feast beyond the bedroom walls could be heard, and the congenial celebrations of the rest of the realm below the castle walls echoed across.

It seemed everyone was pleased with this union, expect yourself... And Aegon, perhaps. That you had yet to decipher. Enraptured in your deep thoughts, you had not realised Aegon's entrance into the room, before the sound of the wooden door closing once more, jolted you back to reality, snapping towards his direction. The room had been romantically set, candles spread and lit across the room, with an open fire stoking at the fire pit to provide some warmth in the chill night air. A slight, cool breeze blew from the window, blowing the satin, white fabric against the curves of your body.

"Lay on the bed."

The silence was tense, although cut with his command, Alicent's words echoed in your mind relentlessly, however your body moved and did as it was told. Aegon remained at some distance, heading to a table where a flagon [full of more arbour wine as you suspected] and cup was placed prior to his arrival and yours.

"So did my dearly beloved mother tell you what to expect? What is to be expected of you?"

"Y-Yes."

"Hmm, I am, however, curious as to hear your thoughts. Truthfully or else, what do you think of our arrangement?"

Caught by surprise to his direct enquiry, you felt perplexed as to whether he was seeking to relish in amusement of taunting your vulnerable position, or simply seeking some vain type of validation only a King could provoke.

"I-I confess I was taken aback by your choice in me, my King. For there are plenty of other maidens in the realm. However if this is the King's command, then House Stark remains loyal to the word of their sovereign."

"I said the truth, Y/N. Mayhaps, you should, however, lecture your older brother about loyalty to the rightful sovereign, next time one dares to usurp me."

A painful gulp tore through your throat, quivering to his words. You shouldn't have responded that way, Cregan would be livid if he had heard Aegon's stinging words.

"Forgive me, my King. I did not mean to antagonise you. I-I simply have just been struggling to come to terms with your choice in me a-as y-your-"

The final word was a tough one to say aloud, and yet the final ounce of courage you had left, you'd managed to blurt it out.

"... Wife."

"Hmm, wife."

He tauntingly mimics, granting himself a deep, low chuckle, as he carefully poured himself a cup of the liquor that filled the flagon, skulling it before forcefully placing it back down against the hard, wooden surface.

Despite his continuous drinking during the night, Aegon seemed sober and sharp-witted.

"Steadfast, my liege council kept pestering me to wed, for I apparently require more heirs. Your brother, although his past transgressions would prove him disloyal, I had heard that the wolf himself, of having a pup sister... The Baratheon girls, although plentiful are far too eager, and ugly. Those in the Vale, said to have amazing tits, often I find are far too disciplined and boring for my liking...But now the Northern girls, I've heard... Can be fierce and yet-"

Finally, turning to face you directly, you remained steadily quiet, your grip on the bedsheets tightened in anticipation, for his mouth remained agape almost as though a word lingered on his plump lips.

"Beautiful."

Again, a scarlet blush flustered across your softened face, and you felt yourself yearning for more, tender words from him.

"Alas, I took my chances."

Aegon heartedly exclaimed, before unbuttoning his garments, losing his gaze once more, you felt a desire for him to simply look at you. You felt somewhat ashamed of this sudden lust you'd begin to sense in these intimate moments, and could not bring yourself to discourage such emotions.

"Spread your legs."

As obedient as a septa in the making, you obeyed. The gown remained hovering in between your thighs, modestly covering your bare entrance. Aegon now completely shirtless, his pants unbuttoned yet remained on. He had this menacingly hungry look in his eye, an appetite that the feast it seemed, did not quash, as it lingered between your thighs. Licking his lips, he slowly crawled atop, one arm stretching beside your hip, whereas the other began to lift the garment above, exposing your naked cunt [the maids had not provided you to wear any undergarments beneath, as per the Dowager Queen's orders].

"Already wet for me, my wife. Deny it all you want, although it seems you are not entirely against this unity, after all."

Your breaths now shaky, as his fingers lightly traced over your folds. A natural tease he was, it seemed. Your eyes nervously flicking from his hand beneath to his hardened face, you could just make out the outlines of faded burn marks saturated across the left side of his face. You felt an ounce of pity favouring towards him, as you knew these were remnants of the war that would forever remain with him, a constant, agonising reminder of what he had endured.

He noticed you glaring, although did not question it as you fixed your gaze directly unto his eyes: now growing a sense of familiarity to those lilac orbs.

"A good wife you will be. Dutiful, you will do as I say, when I ask of you. I need not to remind you I am your husband, but foremost I am your King. Disobey me and I will see fit to punish you... Accordingly."

Just as you were about to address your Grace in humble agreement, Aegon impatiently shoved two thick, long digits roughly into your folds. Causing you to jolt upright, earning a loud, sensual moan to harshly escape your lips. Pumping his hand in slow, sloppy motions, before gaining some speed to his pace, your head remained lunged back, as your back arched, your pelvis slightly thrusting forward, yearning for more.

"Look at you, look at how you clench and ache at my fingers. Hells, I can feel you throbbing-"

He deeply chuckles in between, a growling sound: you could feel the burning gaze of his eyes prowling on you, as though you were the fresh prey captured by the eager predator. Dragons no doubt would feast on the likes of wolves. Mesmerised by the sight before him, seeing you helplessly squirm and breathless, vulnerable to his touch. You'd never been with a man like this before, hoping to save yourself for the one, and it seemed, like his historical ancestors, Aegon had conquered that too.

"The Gods have finally granted me favourable, securing me a wife I know will take me well. Will take my seed and give me as many heirs as necessary."

"A-Aeg. My-My King-"

His pudgy fingers stretching and encircling your folds, grazing over your clit, attempting to assert some pressure to your sides as if to 'open' you up. Feeling your wetness pool all across, lathering his fingers and clenched fist, you felt bashful, for he knew his way around a woman's body, your body, more than you did your own. Back in Winterfell, in the privacy of your confinements, you had occasionally exerted some pleasures unto yourself, although frightened or lazy to finish, you could not say. It was not at all the same to this precise moment, however.

"Fuck, when you call me that. I am certain you were destined for me, my sweet, sweet pup. I heard Stark women bear children well. To see you swell with my child in a few months time, Gods be good, I'll fuck another one in you as soon as you birth the first."

Although you rocked gently back and forth mindlessly, muffled moans escaping your tender lips, you were attentive to his words. There was truth to his words, however: Stark women were notorious amongst the realm to bear and carry children to full term, birthing healthy, thriving babes.

"Argh-I will waste no more needless time-"

Aegon hastily removing his soaked fingers away from your clenching walls, shoved his larger mass between your thighs, adjusting himself at your entrance, as he unbuckled his pants down. For the few spare seconds granted that you regained full consciousness, you managed to sneak a glimpse of his member, and you anticipated that it would hurt: as you'd been informed it always would the first time.

"Is the whore ready?"

He teasingly growled, his cock just etching and gliding over your moist entrance. You could feel his hardness, how rigid it felt against your soft, sensitive skin, as he toyed with your cunt. He felt big to say the least, feeling his pulsating veins across his cock, the tip beginning to push in.

"Be a good wife and scream for me. I want to see you beg for me, for my cock."

Without notice as before, Aegon hastily shoved his cock deep into your cunt, burying his hard mass into you, adjusting and asserting himself into a more comfortable position before he began to slowly pace his thrusts. Just as he earnestly wished, you painfully yelled out his name in the dead of the night, hopeful your cries remained mute to whomever stood guard outside [yet you doubt it would]. Aegon himself let out a breathless "fuck" and low groans, feeling your tight walls tensing against his cock, as he continued to stretch you out even more. He knew you a virgin, no doubt, for you began to bled onto the clean, white sheets below. The deed done and consummated, it was now only a matter of time that he would spill his seed inside.

"F-Fuck, Y/N. Gods you feel so tight for me. Suffocating my cock, you needy little thing. Are you that desperate for me to fuck a child into you, little one?"

Aegon now laid atop of you, breathless, huffing and puffing in between each sloppy attempt of a thrust, feeling his hot, alcohol scented breath on your dampened skin. His plump lips hovered above the crook of your neck, only to gently lap at your skin, suckling on the concoction of sweet, floral fragrances you'd dabbed yourself with and sweat your body naturally exude. His teeth often bit at the soft flesh, certain he'd left tender, red bite marks and bruises in the morrow to come.

"Your pretty little cunt was made just for me. You will definitely take my dragon seed well, no doubt. Fuck-"

His cock remained still deeply buried inside, you'd tried to spread your legs out even more, yet, the painful, striking feeling remained coursing through your body. Aegon's arms rested against each side of your body, lifting himself up, onto his knees, lifting you from the hips up with him as he rested you on his lap, he eagerly ripped the sheer, light fabric off you. Exposing your tender, bouncy breasts the cool night air striking your skin, caused your nipples to react viscerally perking them right.

"And these- These will swell greatly and pour tremendously with sweet, sweet milk, for the babe and perhaps some for me. Seven Hells, Stark, you were fit to be a mother of heirs."

"T-Tell me more, my King. Tell me how bad you want it. Ask and I shall give you a whole litter of pups and dragons."

His eager mouth now nibbled at the flesh of your tender, soft breast, the other free hand flicking at your sensitive nipple, causing you to arch your spine instinctively, pushing your chest further against his head. Endless moans escaped your sinful mouth, words and swears, pleaing for Aegon, begging for more.

"Careful wife, I'll take your word for it. I will fuck you from this night and all the nights to come, until I see your stomach grow lavishly with my child. Even then, I shall fuck you s'more."

Now handled and positioned atop of his lap, Aegon's sturdy, strong arms supporting your back, one firmly gripping the back of your neck, he began to pound you once more from beneath. Your body jolting and bobbing viciously up and down, as he finally spilled his thick, warm load inside of you, feeling the endless pour coating your walls all over. His pulsating bulge inside, you could feel growing tenser in the pit of your stomach, certain it could be seen and felt from the outside.

"Fuck Y/N-"

Earning a craven, mindless moan of his name, Aegon laid you back, promptly propping a large pillow beneath your bottom and hips, as he kept your legs elevated.

"This-This will help. Stay there-"

He breathlessly encouraged, as he stood himself off the bed, heading to the water basin, as he ringed a wet cloth, washing away the hard earned work of sweat.

Ringing it once more, he walked back over towards you, seating himself down by your side, as he gently tapped the dampened cloth, wiping away the sweat beads across your forehead. Lustfully watching over you, his eyes lingered towards your stomach, placing a gentle hand over the swell where his cock was buried itself, a faint half-hearted smiled glowed across his handsome, ruggard face.

"Our babe shall grow cosily inside, I am certain. I have made a right choice in making you my wife, sweet pup."

****

The following, bright mane, Aegon and yourself remained retired in bed. Not wishing to be disturbed after the endless amounts of fucking that followed the first. There was a dull ache between your thighs, although Aegon was intent on impregnanting you with his rightful child. Eventually, you were determined also.

Although, his Mother was eager to examine the sheets, you'd both had grown hungry and weak, eager for nourishment, intending to attend a luncheon together. She ceased the opportunity and welcomed herself in, once you'd both been bathed and dressed accordingly.

Much to her satisfaction, the entire bed was a wreck.

****

The Gods had been good, working again in Aegon's favour and true to his word, you began to swell immensely with child in the short coming months to follow. In the initial stages of the consummation you prayed to the Old and the New Gods, hopeful they'd bless you to be a fruitful wife, and not long after, you'd began to show the common signs of being with child. Even Aegon had taken to notice how swollen and sensitive your breasts had become to his touch, let alone your appetite was crazed.

He became even more possessive of you and his unborn child, yet you relished in his unrelenting attention.

****

A beautiful, baby boy was born in due time: kicking like a goat and much larger in size than most babes. He shared the uncanny dark, black hair that resembled most Starks, however, also earned his father's genes, having been blessed with his own set of brilliant Valyrian, violet eyes. Your son was deemed the perfect fit to be Aegon's future heir by the realm, and was loved dearly.

Aegon did not think such joy existed after the torment and gruelling war he had endured just a year ago, yet he thanked you day and night simply for your mere existence in his.

general taglist - @evenstaris @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @ilikeitbetterangsty @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand

Aegon taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @bucknastysbabe

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