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eightmakesonebraincell · 6 months

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ateez as royals who fall for you (hyung line)

read maknae line here

genre: royalty!ateez x fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, crack, a brainrot and smutfest of royal tropes

length: 12.8k

c/w: very nsfw scenes - mdni, explicit language (dirty talk, swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, heavy & mature themes (sex work, murder, assassination, execution, mentions of misogyny)

a/n: this has simultaneously been the pride and joy of my life and the bane of my entire existence for the last 2.5 months 🥴 and tumblr is an inept incapable CLOWN who cannot handle the full 24k worth of bullet points so here is the hyung line first - maknae line coming soon (yumi @sorryimananti-romantic can vouch for my unsuccessful 3-hour attempt at formatting them into a single post)

hongjoong

pov: you're the king's royal courtesan

“fuck,” hongjoong lets out a deep growl from within his chest as his head dips down to rest against the crook of your neck. “you’re just as tight as last time”

when your hips involuntarily buck from the pleasure, he nudges your thighs further apart and keeps your wrists pinned above your head

he can’t help but let out another groan when he feels your walls clench around his cock as you adjust to his thickness

“i thought- god,” a moan escapes you after he thrusts his hips against you, “thought you never fucked the same woman twice”

“i don’t,” he simply says

and it’s true

hongjoong is one of the youngest princes to have ruled during the kim dynasty, having risen to power after the previous king succumbed early to an unknown illness

he has the choice and selection of all the courtesans available within the palace and outside its walls

hongjoong also has a reputation of being highly sought after by everybody, not just amongst courtesans

it’s not only because he is devilishly handsome, knows how to properly fuck somebody dumb, and is the literal king

the main thing that makes him so desirable and unreachable?

he never sees the same courtesan more than once

“yet here you are,” you hook your legs around hongjoong’s waist to gain leverage and meet his thrusts with your own hips, “between my legs for the second time”

you smirk when he curses and throws his head back

his grip on your wrists tightens and his voice drops dangerously low

“the first time doesn’t count because i was meant to see lady chae. so really, this is the first time i’m requesting for your services”

he silences you from retorting by pressing a bruising kiss against you, lips messily attaching to yours before trailing down the sharp angle of your jaw to bite your neck

you are a courtesan for people of nobility and royal status

part of the ‘house of flowers’ and commonly referred to as ‘flower courtesans’, you and the other women are highly-sought after for the companionship you offer

you are well protected by the house of flowers though - the services of companionship that you provide is requested by your client, but is ultimately accepted or rejected by you

lady chae, another of the flower courtesans and one of your closest friends, is requested by the king for her services

it is quite clear what it is going to entail and you both spend several of the following nights giggling and whispering scandalously to one another

whether the rumours about his stamina will be true

whether lady chae will be the first to break his one-fuck rule

except when the day of the meeting comes around, she spikes a sudden fever

lady shin, the head of the house of flowers, takes all but one look at her before ordering her to bed rest despite both of your attempts to, albeit unconvincingly, persuade lady shin that chae’s fever would only serve to help make the king’s dick warmer

lady shin is not amused to say the least

with the last minute hitch, the king agrees for you to be sent out to him as a replacement instead

and you end up being the flower courtesan who he breaks his reputed rule for

(lady chae is initially jealous, understandably)

(but very quickly, she appears to be even more excited than you are as she combs through your undergarments for the “sluttiest set” that she can find)

your attention is brought back as hongjoong flicks his tongue over your hardened nipples, continuing to drag his length in and out of you while your back arches off the bed

you tease in between short breaths, “are you really bringing up another woman’s name while you have your cock inside me?”

“you brought it up first,” he reminds you, accentuating his answer with timed thrusts

you grind your hips against his, chasing more friction against your clit as you feel your high approaching

“why?” he snakes one of his hands down between your connected torsos to rub messy circles against your clit, smirking as he asks, “are you getting jealous already?”

for that, you clench down hard on his cock, immediately feeling the way it throbs inside of you as you bring him closer to his orgasm too

“as if. fuck off”

your words are hardly audible from the whines that are leaving your mouth due to the added pressure of another finger against your clit from your retaliation

“i’m close,” hongjoong releases his grip on your wrists so that he can straighten his body, anchoring his hand on your hip instead so that he can fuck you and rub your clit with his other hand with renewed vigour

when you hear him groan, “cum for me,” the string snaps and your whole body quivers in his hold as your orgasm washes over you

hongjoong’s hips gradually stutter to a pause, an occasional thrust inside your clenching pussy as he milks out the rest of his cum inside of you

he finally eases himself out of you and hums in satisfaction as he watches his cum slowly leak out of you

hongjoong drops down beside you, toned chest covered in a sheen layer of sweat as it rises up and down with his pants

when your fuzzy mind has cleared a little from the blissful haze of your orgasm, he strokes his fingertips along the side of your thigh, along the curve of your ass, and over the dip of your waist just under your breasts as he says, “you better not be jealous. first one to get jealous loses”

“if anyone’s going to get jealous first, it’s you,” you scoff back

he raises an eyebrow

oh yeah?

he shoves his leaking cum back inside of you and fingers you to another orgasm

now that shuts you up

for a man who barks, he sure has no bite, because you find yourself being notified by lady shin several days later of yet another request for your services under the king’s name

and another request turns into another

and every single time, hongjoong makes sure that the only word leaving your lips for those many hours is his moaned name

but at the same time, the more you and hongjoong meet, the more he just savours in your simple companionship

he asks you to teach him how to embroider because you’ve mentioned before it’s how you like to spend your free evenings

he rifles through your bag of materials that you bring

you smack his hand away at the carelessness with which he’s upturning everything

“what’s this?” he holds up a large, wooden hoop before trying to fit it through his head, “a necklace?”

“i wonder if people know they appointed an idiot to be king,” you say as you gently unscrew the hoops and demonstrate how to align a piece of fabric between the rings

he watches with interest as you screw the outer hoop tighter until the fabric is nice and taut and then repeat the process so you both have one to work with

you have to help hongjoong thread his needle too, because apparently the king’s fingers are only good for scissoring you open

you weave your own needle through the fabric at a slow pace whilst telling him the different names and uses of the stitches you’re showing him

except, when you look up to see if he’s following?

his own hoop has been abandoned to one side and he’s leaning against his hand as he gazes cheekily at you

“were you even paying attention?”

he sounds a little too confident when he answers not at all

in return, hongjoong shows you how to write hanja the next time you meet

he positions himself behind you with his hand over yours as he guides you through different characters stroke by stroke

he claims that there are specific ways of applying pressure to the brush so he has to be holding your hand at all times

you most definitely roll your eyes several times but you indulge him anyway

there are a lot of giggles and teasing pushes when you accidentally dip the end of your sleeve into the ink and you try to spread it onto his robes too

(the calligraphy may or may not become forgotten when hongjoong pins you down to stop your cheeky behaviour, because things naturally escalate whenever he has you under him)

you two do eventually manage to finish one decent-looking scroll of characters which he ends up gifting you so that you ‘don’t forget’ about him when you’re not with him

when you walk back into the house of flowers, the hanging scroll perks lady shin’s interest as you walk past

“hongjoong taught me how to write my name today”

lady shin waggles her eyebrows at you suggestively because of how casually you refer to the king, for which you nudge her with a shoulder

she laughs then asks to have a look

you unravel the paper to show her but then she makes a funny noise

“that’s not your name? these are the characters for- oh,” she cackles scandalously to herself, as if she has made a secret discovery

“what does it mean?” you hurry to clarify

you wouldn’t put it past him to have taught you a crude phrase instead, like ‘best tits’ or ‘biggest ass’

lady shin lets out an amused exhale, handing the scroll back to you

“it says, my flower”

you’re looking at those exact characters from where you lay on your bed when a knock sounds on your door several days later

lady shin steps into your room with a warm smile as you greet her

“you have an appointment with lord min tomorrow, but the king has just inquired about your service availability for tomorrow,” she informs you. “would you like me to give him the usual answer?”

this isn’t the first time a clash has occurred, particularly with the increasing frequency with which hongjoong requests to see you

you have always told lady shin to ask for hongjoong’s pardon and to offer him an alternative time or day, because in the end, you still need to maintain a professional and admirable reputation as a flower courtesan

and as you open your mouth to tell her ‘yes’, your eye catches the scroll hanging on your wall

my flower

you hesitate

“actually,” you look away from the hanja, “i’ll see hongjoong.”

lady shin gives you a motherly smile as she nods in understanding and closes the door behind her

the next day you see him, he excitedly points out the large tambour frame in his room that he bought just a few days prior, claiming you two can work on a big embroidery patch together now

you give him one look then demote him back to the small embroidery hoop because he still hasn’t learnt his basic stitches yet

(that’ll teach him to not pay attention when you’re demonstrating, ha)

you relent and end up going through the different stitches with him again anyway

and you find that he’s actually not that bad with embroidery once he’s actually focused on the task at hand

it’s nice, basking in each other's presence while he threads his little square of fabric and you work with the large frame you have now essentially claimed as yours

not that hongjoong minds; he did buy it solely to make you happy

and then you offhandedly mention that someone had gifted you a handkerchief with your initials embroidered on one of the corners the other day

“i actually have it on me, in fact,” and you take it out from where it’s tucked into your waist so that you can show him

he juts out his chin as he peers down at the delicate letters, huffing, “it’s pretty, i guess”

then as an afterthought he tacks on, “bet i could do a better job”

“are you jealous right now, kim hongjoong?”

said man is hellbent on avoiding your eyes as he picks up his needle and thread again

“no i’m not!”

“whatever you say,” you smirk

after that day though, you don’t receive another request from hongjoong to meet until two weeks later

which, in the grand scheme of things, really isn’t much

but in comparison to the frequency at which you are used to seeing him, the frequency at which your body is used to having him, it is much too long

you are almost beginning to wonder whether you shouldn’t have brought up the handkerchief gift

yet, he greets you with his usual teasing squeeze of your waist, dangerously close to your ass

you make a move to follow him through the doors to his chambers but he turns around to produce a silk cloth

he starts to blindfold you, whispering sultrily, “i have a surprise for you”

you feel the hairs on the back of your neck raise at his tone

guiding you inside, hongjoong gently pushes you down so that you sink into the plush duvet of his bed

“do you trust me?” he whispers

trying not to dwell on the urge to lick your dry lips, you answer, “of course”

you feel him tugging slowly on the string that holds the front of your corset together, loosening your dress with tenderness like you are a fragile gift

you shiver when your shoulders are suddenly exposed to the cold air

and then the sensation is followed by the warmth of hongjoong’s soft exhales along the expanse of your collarbones as he leans closer to fully disrobe your shoulders

you have to remind yourself to keep breathing

“you can look now,” he tells you

you remove the silk cloth from around your eyes, unsure of what to expect

it takes a few blinks to readjust your vision to the room around you but then your eyes finally focus

and you gasp

there, hung on the wall with its striking viridian green, shimmering threads and intricate swirls on glorious display, is quite possibly the most stunning dress you have ever laid eyes upon

“try it on,” he encourages

but as you step closer, you realise the lacing across the front of the corset and running down the sleeves of the top dress is in fact, not lacing

it’s patchy

it’s uneven

it has empty areas

but it is no doubt embroidery

“did you…did you make this?” you reach out a hand to lightly caress one of the embroidered flowers, not quite daring to believe that hongjoong would go to these lengths for you

“of course,” he wraps his arms around you from behind and presses a light kiss against your temple, “i’m not losing to a lousy handkerchief”

“is that why you disappeared for two weeks?”

you let out a laugh, sinking into his embrace, because the image of the great king holed up in his chambers for days on end, hunched over your dress with a needle, thread and frown on his face is just too endearing

he lets out a warning huff as he turns you around in his embrace to face him

upturning his hands, he shows you the tips of his fingers and grumbles, “i poked myself so many times for you and you laugh at me?”

you bring his hands closer to your face, pressing light kisses to his fingertips as you smile, “thank you, joong. i love it so much, i really do”

he looks at you impossibly soft

under his tender gaze, something suddenly rushes to your very core

you hold one his hands steady in front of your lips then swirl your tongue out in an experimental lick over his fingers

it’s almost captivating how quickly his pupils dilate and zero in on your tongue

so you dare to bring his fingers into your mouth

you suck on them a little harder

a little deeper

and then you moan around his fingers, “i want you”

he lets out a groan himself, feeling the front of his breeches tighten as his cock twitches

“i- fuck, i didn’t give the dress to you in hopes that it would lead to this,” yet despite his words he is stepping you backwards so that he can pin you against the wall

“i know, but i want you,” you palm his growing bulge, your knees going weak at how hard he already is. “and i need you. now.”

he doesn’t need further encouragement

he shoves the remainder of your clothes aside before inserting his fingers roughly between your folds

it doesn’t take long for him to bring you to your first orgasm, curling his fingers relentlessly as you ride them

he spreads your cum over your pussy and you buck your hips with a whine when he circles over your clit briefly

then he’s turning you around and bending you over, one of your hands bracing against the wall, your other arm held behind your back by hongjoong’s firm grasp

“fuck, you’re so wet,” his whole body shivers with pleasure as his cock slips right into you

the obscene sounds of his hips slapping against your ass and your slick being pushed back into your hole over and over again fill the room

and to the clenching of your pussy from another orgasm, hongjoong also cums into you with a guttural groan of your name

he gently carries you to his bed and lays you on top of the covers

he leaves your side for a moment and you listen to him rummage through something while you try to regain control of your quaking legs

when he comes back, you feel him gently spreading your legs and then the ticklish sensation of a soft cloth along your inner thighs

a whine escapes your lips when he rubs over your sensitive clit and hongjoong grips your thigh a little tighter

“be careful what pretty sounds you’re making if you can’t handle another round”

it isn’t until he finishes cleaning you up and lies down next to you to start wiping himself down that you look over and realise what it is that he’s been using this whole time

your mouth drops in disbelief

when hongjoong notices your expression, he smirks, “the man who gave you this has no idea his handkerchief is being used to clean my cum off your thighs”

“hongjoong!” you flush with a laugh. “you are definitely jealous, aren’t you?”

“yes, i’m fucking jealous,” he growls, “you’re the only one i want. you’re the only woman i’ve been requesting for since i’ve seen you. and i want to be the only one who gets to have you, too”

you confess, “well, you can have all of me. because i’ve started refusing other people just for you”

he looks at you for another moment before he’s suddenly straddling your hips

“change of plans,” he says breathily, “i need you again”

“very good plan,” you grind up against him

and then you pause, mirth starting to bubble in your throat, “one last thing though”

hongjoong looks down with amusement in his own eyes, wondering what could possibly be so funny

“that handkerchief?” you start, struggling not to laugh when his eyes immediately narrow, “i never said it was from a man. it was a gift from lady chae”

seonghwa

pov: you're his royal guard

as soon as you notice the movement out of the corner of your eye, your body reacts straight away

you murmur seonghwa’s name with a tight voice and move to position yourself in front of him, unwilling to risk the prince’s safety

one of your hands grasps the hilt of your sword, ready to unsheathe it at the first sign of danger, as your calculative gaze darts between the two young men stumbling closer on the dirt path and the line of forest trees from which they appear

they are wearing simple tunics and breeches with their colour faded and seams loosening from wear

from what you can discern, they are simply commoners, but that does not rule out the possibility that they are bandits

seonghwa seems to think otherwise, though

unsurprising but still grating

the prince places his hand on your shoulder gently in a silent reassurance and request for you to step aside

albeit reluctantly, you force yourself to move to his left

it becomes clear to you as the two figures stop just shy of a few feet away that the term ‘men’ was pushing it - their faces are young and they appear to be no older than seventeen or eighteen

the young strangers dip their head in greeting, one of them apologising as well as he pulls out a tattered map that he extends out for you two to see

“my companion and i are traveling to the village norshaw but seem to have lost our way. would you be able to point us in the right direction?” the one with the map asks

“of course,” seonghwa offers with a kind smile

you watch as the three of them step closer together to look more closely at the map

on high alert, and just as you are predicting, you see the companion shuffle closer to seonghwa, hand inching towards the leather pouch that hangs from the prince’s belt

you catch the subtle motion of seonghwa’s eyes flickering down just an inch

because of how well you understand his body language, you know that it means he has already noticed the thieving intention

but because of how well you understand seonghwa, you know that he isn’t going to do anything about it either

so you strike in his stead

your hand darts out to snatch the thieve’s wrist, twisting his forearm upwards so that he is forced to lean awkwardly towards one side to prevent his elbow from snapping

his partner drops the map, letting out a string of curses and hesitating for all but three seconds before he turns around to flee

scoffing, you threaten the one who is still in your hold, who then bolts with his tail between his legs after you release him

"did you really need to scare them off like that? it's not like i had any money in the pouch anyway," seonghwa chastises with a chuckle

"yes," you deadpan. "i did not spend the last two hours of our trip pausing every fifty meters to wait for you to pick up a rock because you thought it looked pretty, only for them to be stolen by a pair of petty thieves"

"it would have been funny to imagine their faces after realising what they stole," seonghwa grins

“mhm,” you hum, “and the next thing you know, you’ll wake up to your palace ransacked, because word in town is that you can steal from the prince and get away with it”

he levels you with a boyish scowl, “you’re so dramatic. what are you, my mother?”

“no, but i am your royal bodyguard”

“exactly. you are my bodyguard, not my brainguard. if i am to be swindled of my pretty rocks, then so be it”

you roll your eyes out of exasperation, but everything is swiftly forgotten minutes later when you point out a heart-shaped rock and seonghwa rushes over to pick it up

it has been like this ever since the incident occurred - him, the sunshine; you, the sunshine protector

it has been almost four years since it happened

somebody had attempted arsenic poisoning of not only seonghwa, but also those working under him

you had noticed strange discolouring of the silverware in the kitchen and on the table serving his dinner, which prompted an investigation and subsequent discovery of the perpetrator

an act of betrayal and treachery by one of his closest relatives - his very own uncle

seonghwa was - still is - too merciful and tender-hearted to punish his uncle, even if the severity of his uncle’s crimes warranted execution

to have his trust broken so shatteringly hurt seonghwa more than if he were to actually have been poisoned

you still remember like it was yesterday; the sight of the prince slumped against the wall, weighed down by chains of turmoil and despair as whispers fly through the palace of the weak-hearted prince who is unable to deliver fair judgement

it is the sight of the prince looking so small and lost that drives your feet forward to stand before him

as the soft draught coming through the windows tugs gently on your tresses and the flickers of candlelight illuminate the glint of steel in your hand, you make a decision

“i’ll be your sword,” you pledge

not just as his royal guard, but as his haven when he is forced to face corruption and wickedness

and when you see the way his shoulders immediately sag with relief at your declaration, the way he nods like a child who has been reassured that everything will be okay, you tell yourself that seonghwa will never have to dirty his hands as long as you are with him

you will be the dark to his light; the yin to his yang

quietly, you see to it that his uncle is executed for his crimes - your statement to the rest of the palace that prince seonghwa is not to be mocked

neither of you bring it up again, but seonghwa knows

he pulls you into a wholehearted hug, arms enveloping you securely as his chest shakes with shuddering breaths of thank you over and over again

you rub your hand up and down his sturdy back soothingly

it is an action that simultaneously reciprocates his embrace and his crossed line of professionalism

one that starts the shift in dynamic between you both, boundaries of sought comfort blurring with friendship and then something more

where seonghwa is too trusting and too soft-spoken, you become his skepticism and his voice

“you should be more wary of others,” you always remind him

“and you should be more trusty of others,” he’ll retort

yet, he will never make a decision that does not receive your input nor one that you do not agree with

where seonghwa is too gentle and too humble, you become his sword and his shield

you do not waver when you strike down foe, and friends turned foe alike

you speak up and establish firm boundaries when others take advantage of the respect he shows everybody regardless of their class or status

and yet, if you find yourself on the receiving end of someone’s condescension or discriminatory treatment, be it due to your rank as a guard or identity as a woman, seonghwa will be advancing forward to defend you before you can do so yourself

where seonghwa is too innocent and too bushy-tailed, you become his eyes and his caution

your morning walks together always last for longer than they are scheduled for

he stops to watch every butterfly and bumblebee that flutters along the flowery path, and he waits for caterpillars to crawl onto a leaf that he holds by the stem so that he can move the critters off the pathway

you love to watch him and his glittering eyes, his cheeks rosy from happiness and from the air still crisp with morning dew

but you also make sure to watch his surroundings with greater vigilance because the quiet peace that the freshly awoken sun brings simultaneously increases the likelihood of a targeted attack against him

as much as you rib him for being a marshmallow personified, however, and as much as he banters back that you are more than welcome to resign at any time, neither of you want it any other way

seonghwa carries out a lot of gestures that he justifies to himself as being eternally grateful for you and the things you do for him

he likes to gift you flowers he has plucked from his garden or the bushes he walks past that remind him of you

(“that’s actually just a very pretty-looking weed, but thank you, seonghwa,” you tell him on more than one occasion)

(it’s adorable, because the next time he finds a flower, he goes to the length of certifying that it is indeed a flower with the merchant who sells bouquets in the nearby town before presenting it to you, eyes gleaming with pride)

you stand still and let him tuck a flower behind your ear, sometimes braiding your hair gently so that he can weave and secure the stem into your hair, holding your breath as his features fill with the same enrapturement that he would admire a beautiful artwork with

after you voice this out one day, seonghwa supposes to himself that there is not much difference between an artwork and you

not that he’s attracted to you or anything - you just…have an objectively attractive face

yes.

especially when your usually-piercing expression is softened by fatigue, guard no longer up as you sleep slumped over a desk while accompanying him during his late night of studies

he does not realise his feet have moved until he is right beside your resting form, as if the soft exhales escaping from your slightly parted lips are a siren’s song

seonghwa tenderly brushes your stray locks away from your face and behind your neck

except he forgets to account for the fact that you are trained to sleep on the brink of consciousness

the squeal that leaves his mouth when your reflexes kick in and you almost slit his throat resounds at a frequency so high you almost believe it comes from your own mouth

you have a grand time watching his beet red face stutter out an excuse as to what exactly he was doing so close to you

needless to say, that is the last time seonghwa ever tries to do anything while you are sleeping

but as much as he bumbles around, he also reveals his perceptiveness when you least expect it

like now, as you accompany the prince to one of his meetings with numerous advisors and ministers

it is relatively dull and uneventful, mostly a cordial appearance to maintain amicable and loyal relationships with his subjects

conversation is limited to pleasantries and at one point, seonghwa even points out the calligraphy paintings hung at the back of the room

everyone nods with throaty laughs as if the paintings are indeed the most exquisite and tasteful artworks they have ever laid their eyes upon

when you and seonghwa arrive back at his chambers following the conclusion of the meeting, he walks over to his bed and shakes the sleeves of his robe over the expanse of his duvet

and out drops a neatly-wrapped sweet, followed by another, then another, until there are enough to amount to two handfuls

baffled, you look at seonghwa, because these are the very same treats that had been plated on the tables during the meeting

“you smuggled candy out of the room?” you try to keep the amusement out of your voice

he peers into his sleeves to ensure there are no more stragglers, before turning to face you as he waves his hands over the small collection of goods on his bed

as if they are-

“for you!” he exclaims almost proudly. “i saw you eyeing them during the meeting so i took some for you”

okay

most definitely proudly

you feel something tickling you from within, as if he has reached through your chest to directly caress your heart with a delicate finger

“when did you even…” your voice trails off when it comes out a little fonder than you are expecting it to

“remember the paintings i pointed out?” seonghwa giggles, and you think that the hand in your chest is now cradling your heart completely. “i swiped the sweets when everyone was looking back at them”

“thank you, hwa,” you settle on saying, because you do not trust yourself to say anything else

that is more than enough for him, though

which, of course it is - this is seonghwa, with his huge heart that fills easily with the smallest of things

he eagerly hands you one of the treats and you unwrap it to place into your mouth

you’ve had these before, but this one that he has specially grabbed for you tastes remarkably sweeter

you wonder if his lips will taste the same…

but then you accidentally bite your tongue, hard enough to draw blood, and you realise just how wrong you are for letting those fleeting thoughts into your mind

because while you navigate the world in thick droplets of red and sharp glints of silver, seonghwa sees the world in soft hues of pastel and gleaming rays of yellow

how could the two palettes ever blend together harmoniously?

so instead, you grant yourself one last moment of selfishness and pull him into a hug, a gesture that toes the already shaky borders of professionalism yet can still be excused under the guise of friendship

you realise that he has always meant much more to you, but that is what this will stay as - a mere realisation

seonghwa wraps his arms around your form as he relaxes into the way your bodies naturally meld together

it’s strange how easily you slot into his life, his thoughts, his heart

he wonders whether it’s possible for feelings of appreciation to run so deeply and potently within somebody, like a drug that he cannot get enough of

and when you take a step away from him, leaving his chest feeling physically and emotionally empty, he wonders if he is perhaps…

in love with you

following that incident, it is almost as if a switch flips - both of you take several steps away from the line that has been danced around

but neither of you notice the distance because you are both consumed by your own thoughts

until one of your usual morning walks around the castle walls of his palace

seonghwa is wondering whether the bushes you walk past remind you of the flowers he used to gift you and you are debating whether to reach out to brush a petal out of his half ponytail

then, like deja vu, your eyes flicker towards the burst of movement as a figure covered in black comes darting forwards with their blade raised intended for murder

you immediately start to unsheathe your sword, feet poised and prepared to defend-

until you are harshly tugged back and the prince steps in front of you to parry the strike that the assassin tries to land

it takes your lifetime of training and experience to snap back into focus and thrust your sword into the enemy’s exposed side

when you are sure he is dead, you whirl around to descend upon seonghwa with a voice trembling from both anger and relief

“what in the world were you thinking?” you yell

“i-”

taking a step forward, you toss your sword to one side, “no, actually. you weren’t thinking at all”

“i was afraid that you would get hurt!” he takes his own step closer

“that is my duty!” the volume of your voice raises even more. “i am willing to lay down my life to ensure your safety! i have been guarding you for years now and you have never acted this way. what has changed?”

for a moment, the only sound that punctuates the silence is your harsh breathing

seonghwa swallows

“my feelings…” he whispers, a stark contrast to the peak of emotions you have been riding. “my feelings for you have changed”

your throat tightens at his words

it is your turn to whisper, a noise of confusion leaving your lips

he takes another step closer, bringing himself to stand right in front of you as he looks down earnestly into your eyes

“i’d rather be the protector, and you be the protected”

“but…why?” your heart races with anticipation

“because i’m in love with you”

right at the invisible border that has been separating you two for as long as you have been his guard, seonghwa now stands, hands wringing together as he awaits a response

“then that makes the two of us,” you confess

you step forward to take your familiar spot on the other side of the line, except this time you do not stop

you stride over the boundary completely to stand by his side

raising yourself onto your tiptoes, you pull him down slightly by the front of his doublet so that you can press a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips

it stretches wider and curves upwards under the nurturing of your own smile

you can’t help but give him another kiss on the other side of his mouth to match the one you just gave him

“from now on,” seonghwa starts, “i’ll be your sword”

you wouldn’t really, and you will fight him to let you continue being his guard, but that doesn’t stop one last teasing question from escaping you

“does this mean i get to retire?”

yunho

pov: you're part of a rebel group

the crown prince is not in his fucking library

for the past three weeks, the crown prince has always been in the royal library at night

until today

under normal circumstances, his royal guards and staff would be alerted to ensure that the deviance in routine is a conscious decision and not an issue of the crown prince missing

except doing that would make your job significantly harder…

considering you have been ordered to assassinate him.

you’re part of the ‘red sun’, a revolutionary movement aiming to overthrow the current monarch

following the debilitating state of the king after falling ill and the subsequent coronation of queen jeong into power, she has since then established numerous royal decrees to keep everyone under her reign on a tight leash

a leash made of barbed wire

people are quick to become resentful and thirsty for an end to the dictatorship and bloodline

although he has made limited public appearances, the crown prince has also developed a reputation rivaling the queen’s

within the second year of the jeong dynasty, red sun has already amassed a multitude of supporters

the focus is currently on growing in numbers, preparing for an imminent revolution and picking off corrupt royals and noblists, be it through incrimination or assassination

dealing with those in positions of higher power is a task only completed by an elite selection of red sun rebels who have distinguished skills and traits that set them apart from peasants and commoners

and you are amongst the elite team

which is why you find yourself staking out on the tiled roof of the imperial palace, clothed in black with a mask and hooded cowl covering your face that blends you in with the darkness of night, on the orders of a higher-up to assassinate the crown prince

except the target is missing; the information you were given is wrong

which never happens

you can’t risk staying around for much longer, especially now that the crown prince has broken his routine

he could be anywhere and so could his royal guards

you shift your body to a crouch and place your hands on the cool tiles beneath you, ready to leave

only to spot a figure, crouched just like you are, on the opposite side of the roof

their face is a black hole of nothing within the shrouded confines of their hood, but you can feel their gaze piercing into you all the same

you run

you scramble to the edge of the roof and nimbly leap off the curved eaves to the neighbouring structure of the study room

when you glance backwards, you see the man - physique now obvious - is keeping up easily along the stepping stones of roofs

this game of cat and mouse isn’t going to work for long

if you don’t get caught by him first, you’re both going to get caught by the palace guards

so you make a split decision and alter your next trajectory lower

keeping your arms outstretched for the eaves, you grab on tightly when your fingers touch the edge of the roof and use your core to kick your legs up to stop your body from slamming into the wall from the momentum of your jump

you let go and drop to the ground like a feline, noiseless, and slink towards a line of trees

then you wait

he’s good, you note to yourself, when the only sound that alerts you to his presence is the quick scuffle of his feet as he softens his impact against the wall and the muted thud of his body landing on the ground

“state your purpose,” he demands, voice low yet firm

you ignore him to ask, “who are you?”

now up close, you can see that the man is wearing attire almost the same as you are, identity also hidden by the his bandana and hood-

wait

even the dark red stitching that subtly replaces the original seam on the right shoulder of his outer clothing is the same

the same as those on the elite team

“one of you,” he confirms your suspicions

except you don’t recognise his voice nor his build

being one of the earliest members of the rebel organisation, you are familiar with all the members who carry out missions like yours

he is not one of them; not one you can trust yet

when you don’t speak, he adds on, “we need to go. the safehouse might be in danger”

he refers to the two of you so easily, as if you and him are an unspoken team

you cannot trust this man until you know for sure he is part of red sun, so you ask him

“when is red most beautiful?”

it is a vague question with a fixed answer

one that reflects the heart of the revolutionary itself

during the sunrise of a new beginning

“during the sunrise of a new beginning,” the man says resolutely

the tension releases from your shoulders

“okay,” you opt to abandon your original mission. “let’s check on the safehouse”

the man offers you a hand to hike yourself up onto one of the outer walls of the palace before he jumps up himself with ease

you both flip over the top and land in unison

the moon illuminates the ground beneath your feet as you both sprint into the surrounding forest

the safehouse is really just a small hut situated far enough from the palace to stay inconspicuous, yet not close enough to the outer borders of the kingdom to risk discovery by the frequent border patrols

you both slow down as you approach the clearing, steadying your breaths and treading with cautious steps

and then you hear it

the shattering clang of a desperate parry

all it takes is a quick glance at the man by your side before your eyes harden with purpose and your steps are dashing in unison towards the hut

you’re both hit with the smell of a metallic tang in the air, and it’s not from your drawn swords

bursting through the door, you quickly take in the scene before you

several red sun members are scattered around the hut and slumped in varying degrees of injury

it’s easy to spot the intruder; they’re yanking their sword out of a body’s torso as they simultaneously turn to look at you

and it’s hard to miss the royal insignia of the jeong monarch on their chest plate

you have the element of surprise

but only for the next few seconds

you leap forward with the thud of footsteps of your partner following almost immediately, side-stepping once you close the distance to dodge a haphazard swing

there’s a brief break in defense when the enemy tries to aim for another strike that leaves the gap in the side of their armour exposed

you feel the slight resistance of your sword entering flesh as you thrust it forward into them

except when you try to tug it back out, a hand grasps your own and the hilt of your sword, stopping you from stepping away

the enemy has realised they are not going to make it out of this alive

but if they are to die, then they are going to take one last person with them

you.

you see glint of metal as they use their other hand to swing their sword down onto you, only for it to be deflected at the last second by another sword

the man you have met for barely an hour is now at your side with his towering protectiveness

in one smooth kick, his long leg sends the other careening into the wall of the hut with a mighty slam

you feel yourself jerking forward from the enemy’s grasp still on your hand

but the man next to you quickly tucks you into his side before you are also sent sprawling

“check on the others,” he briefly says, and then he is striding towards the fallen intruder

you only spare him another quick glance and then you rush to the nearest figure on the ground

you go around checking for pulses, and for those who are still breathing, the extent of their injuries

there are several casualties but nowhere near as many if you and the man had not come to check on the safehouse

which suddenly makes you pause in your tracks

how did he know about the attack in the first place?

you stretch your legs from their squatted position next to one of the red sun members and turn around to confront him

except…the man has disappeared

and so has the intruder’s body

days later, the question of whether you will chance upon the man again tonight flits through your mind when you find yourself perched in the very same spot on the tiled roof of the palace that gives you a clear view of the royal library

you have received another order to assassinate the crown prince as soon as you see the opportunity arise

this time, the note is accompanied by a cyanide capsule, a non-verbal message that this mission is to occur with your life on the line

you spot him

he’s preoccupied by the scroll in his hand as he makes his way through the shelves of parchments

you wait until he’s walked far enough into the library before you drop down from the roof, keeping your stance low to ensure you stay hidden as you silently move closer

you take out the jagged dagger from its sheath by your waist as you anticipate it will be too difficult to wield your long sword in the narrow aisles

and there the crown prince stands

he has his back to you, exposing him to your mercy

mercy that you have no intention of showing him

the cruel heir to the throne of an even crueler dictatorship deserves none

“it’s you again, isn’t it?”

you freeze

the crown prince still has not turned around to address you, but you can feel the dark gaze of his eyes on you as if he were looking at you

“you were here a few days ago”

fuck

how he knows you have no idea

what you do know though is that you have about two seconds to make a move before you lose this chance to assassinate him completely, and quite possibly, lose your life as well

the pill you have hidden in the breast of your tunic feels heavy

“you are part of red sun, are you not?”

this time the crown prince does turn around to face you, but it isn’t the nonchalance with which he reveals your identity that makes your head reel

it is the warmth and softness in his gaze and the hint of a smile on his face that does

what the actual fuck

you’re convinced that the crown prince is not only heinous, but also batshit crazy

“i am,” you spit out at him, “with orders to assassinate you, in fact”

his mouth thins into a tight line, “the orders you have received are false”

“sounds exactly like something a crown prince would say to avoid being assassinated,” you scoff

but then his next words change everything

“red is most beautiful during the sunrise of a new beginning”

before you have time to fathom the bomb that has just been dropped, your heads swivel simultaneously towards the entrance of the royal library when a voice calls out for the crown prince

“hide,” he hisses urgently

and then he’s stepping further away to conceal your presence as best as possible

you hear the shuffle of footsteps approaching before they stop, dangerously close to where you’re crouched behind a bookshelf

“apologies for interrupting your time, crown prince,” they say

from where you are you can see the crown prince’s expression clear as he lets out a small huff, “i have told you many times to just call me yunho”

“of course, crown prince yunho”

even though you can’t see the other person’s expression, you can hear the amusement in their voice

they continue, “i have the information you have requested for”

“thank you,” you see him - yunho - receive a small scroll. “the queen does not know?”

“no, i made sure to be as discreet as possible”

yunho thanks the other once again and your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets when he bows his head in appreciation as he dismisses them

is this the same crown prince as the rumours?

and what is he doing behind his mother’s back?

you don’t realise you’ve been staring dumbly at him until he’s back in front of you with amusement on his face

he stands tall and proud, robes accentuating his stature and nobility

“who exactly are you,” you dare to ask

your voice is small - you feel small, crouched at his feet like a stark physical representation of the power he holds over you

but then he takes yet another step closer and kneels down so that your eyes meet at the same level

“i am the leader of red sun. the creator of the whole revolution”

your ankles actually do give out at that and you have to seat yourself on the floor

because how is any of this possible?

you must have voiced your thoughts out loud, because before you know it, yunho is crossing his legs and making himself comfortable on the floor right in front of you

it makes you feel so strange

the crown prince’s willingness to make himself an equal before you - and even to his staff from earlier

yunho starts to explain

a change in monarch, particularly one of such dictatorship, requires massive momentum and synergy; something he cannot produce alone nor without the support of the people

thus, red sun came into existence for the exact same reason you and all the other supporters have joined

in hopes of a sunrise one day that marks a new beginning

a new leadership

except recently he has had growing suspicious of the presence of a traitor within the organisation, which were confirmed the night the safehouse was attacked

“that night…that man was you,” you realise, “and that’s how you know who i am”

he nods, “and that’s also how i know your orders are false.” yunho nudges you playfully with his knee, “pretty sure i never ordered for my own assassination”

yunho continues to explain that he had taken the intruder back for interrogation, but then you frown when he reveals the enemy had swallowed a suicide pill before any information could be gained

he has an inkling that someone in a high position of power is involved, since the pills are almost impossible to gain access to, but it cannot be ruled out as a coincidence

“hang on,” you pull down the top of your tunic in a hurry

yunho scrambles to cover his eyes and turns his head as he jokingly sputters out, “woah okay, this is moving a little fast don’t you think?”

you tug impatiently on the sleeve of his robe, telling him to look

yunho hesitates for another second before lowering his hands and realising you have-

“a suicide pill?”

you look at each other, because this can only mean one thing

the pills are not a coincidence; the enemy is much closer than yunho would like

you’re both unsure how much time there is until the traitor decides to order someone else to assassinate yunho, or worse, decides to finish the job off themselves

but from that very night of discovery, you and yunho work together incessantly against a ticking time bomb

it’s a delicate balance between finding as many leads as you can and spreading out your investigations to stay under the radar

yunho tries to look further into the cyanide pills while you try to uncover any information regarding the order you had been given

whoever is behind it all has kept their tracks hidden well

there isn’t much to report from either of your ends whenever you sneak into the palace to meet up with yunho

but he makes it very hard for you to feel discouraged when he makes your meetings seem like casual catch ups between - you dare say - friends

you have yet to catch him by surprise whenever you drop down from the roof in front of him in an attempt to scare him; he has an uncanny ability to sense your presence

except, you think you prefer being unsuccessful, because your indignant grumbles never fail to bring out his toothy grin and an excited body jiggle

other times he is the one trying to fluster you

“remember that time you literally tried undressing yourself in front of me-”

“i was taking the pill out to show you!”

you bring your thumb and index finger closer together in front of your face and squint at the gap

“i am this close to changing my mind and assassinating you after all”

he gets a kick out of it, pretending to beg for your mercy, “oh please spare me, your majesty”

other times, yunho teases you for always keeping your cowl and mask on

“bet it’s because you’re ugly or something,” he jokes

and you bite back that he had his face covered too when you both met, so you’re one to talk, ugly

“but since then i’ve always shown you my face as the crown prince. you can see me nice and clear,” he suddenly leans forward, so close you can see the dip of his cupid’s brow. “what do you think about me now?”

you swallow hard

you’re glad you have your mask on because you can feel your face rapidly heating up

“i think…” you gently cup his jaw, “you look better with your mask on,” as you nudge his face to the side

you cannot help but join in with your own chuckles at his laughter and boyish glee

and eventually, you two have a breakthrough

yunho manages to trace the cyanide back to a traveling merchant operating under the guise of selling rare herbs and medicine

in the transaction ledger, there is an unusually large purchase under the name of ‘lee minjun’

“i’m sure i’ve seen the name before somewhere, but i can’t remember where,” yunho huffs

you let out your own huff at his elbow that has very naturally taken a rest on your shoulder

pulling out a stack of paper, you spread it out onto the table before you two

they are past records of certain red sun missions that, upon looking back, seem suspicious

“i noticed a mark on a couple of them, a drawing or character perhaps? except none of them are fully intact. it’s almost like the paper was accidentally marked”

you point them out to yunho in hopes that he will have a better idea

he doesn’t - not at first

not until he chances upon two that vaguely align with each other to form a clearer image

“this-” yunho runs his hand through his hair, “this is butler lee’s stamp. my father’s butler.”

the king’s butler?

lee?

your eyes snap to yunho’s, just as his meet yours

“lee minjun”

you sink back in your seat

there’s now definite proof that the king’s butler is at the very least involved

the question of why and what for remains

in fact, you and yunho would not put it past the queen either to be involved too

there is a long moment of shared silence as you both mull over what this means for the future

yunho breaks the silence first

“after this all ends…do you want to work for me, officially?” he clears his throat, “will you stay by my side?”

after this all ends

you two must still uncover butler lee’s motives; likely part of a much grander scheme involving queen jeong too

you two must still bring down the whole monarch; with the support of red sun, yunho needs to sit on his rightful throne

the sun has yet to rise but you can see the faint hues of orange and twilight blue in the horizon

the new beginning is close

and at that, something in you relaxes

crumbles and disintegrates with utter relief

“it would be my honour to stay by your side forever, yunho”

and then you are removing your hood and mask, daring to breathe and feel alive and hopeful for once

ironically, yunho chokes on air

you glance at him to find that he is unable to meet your eyes

you think your eyes are deceiving you because-

the tips of his ears are a glowing red

you could definitely get used to seeing the usually calm and collected crown prince become a shy, blushing mess

the corner of your mouth rises with smugness, “like what you see?”

“you should really keep your hood and mask on,” he mumbles

“and why is that?” you humour him

he finally looks at you

and when he sees the shit-eating grin plastered across your face, his shoulders suddenly fill out again with confidence and cockiness to match yours

“because,” his voice deep and flirtatious, “with a pretty face like that, you’re going to distract me from my duties”

yeosang

pov: you're in an arranged marriage with him

ever since you could understand the words coming out of your parents’ mouths, you have known that you will be married to yeosang

it just made sense

for the respective princess and prince of two powerful kingdoms to join together, leading to increased power and stronger allies

it is tradition for the pair to meet their chosen spouse for the first time only when both parties have turned sixteen, and even then, subsequent meetings are rare until the time of the actual wedding

so you spend the first sixteen years of your life infatuated with the idea of your prince charming - of prince yeosang - wondering what he looks like, what his personality is like, and how you two will fall in love

and when you finally reach that long-awaited first meeting, prince charming is everything and more than what you have envisioned

if angels with broken wings were exiled to earth, they would look like yeosang

he is soft-spoken and slightly reserved, as any awkward teenager meeting their future spouse would be, but you don’t miss the way that his eyes overflow with adoration and his shoulders shake with exuberant giggles whenever his little sister, yeoreum, comes tottering into the room

he always bends down onto one knee to match her eye level, uncaring of the stains that mark his pants even as his mother narrows her eyes in disdain, and he listens with utmost sincerity when yeoreum tells him about the secret pink and glittery fairy she spotted in the courtyard

they remind you of the relationship you share with your own little brother, juwon, who is barely half your age and height, yet has you wrapped around his little finger

you lean down closer with a hum at the soft tug on your dress to hear your little brother whisper conspiratorially into your ear, “he looks stupid”

if looks could kill, yeosang would be dead right now

you stifle a laugh as you flick juwon’s chin affectionately at his sudden display of childish jealousy

if anything, you’re pretty sure you are the one who looks stupid

stupidly in love

because walking away from that first meeting with yeosang and his family, you know that you are absolutely smitten for the prince

unable to quell the restlessness of having to wait until the next unforeseeable meeting, you pick up a quill that very same day you return to your palace and start writing

it takes you all night, the gentle gleams and winks of the stars keeping you company until they rotate shifts with the songs of the waking world

but by the time you have crossed out and scrunched your way through rolls and rolls of parchment paper, you are satisfied with the letter you have written

the letter addressed to prince yeosang, which you task eunju, one of your maids, with passing it to the royal couriers for delivery to the kang palace

it is a simple letter, thanking him for the enjoyable day, yet it holds the deeper message that you are interested in him and would like to become better acquainted before your marriage

you wonder whether his cheeks will flush a pretty red as his butler hands him your letter

whether he will trace his fingers delicately over the curve of your words

whether he will bite back a smile as he pictures you saying the words to him

two weeks pass, and you approximate the letter to have just been delivered to his kingdom

and although you desperately wish for him to immediately sit down with a quill in hand to pen out his reply, you wait and give him a week before you eagerly start counting down the days until the arrival of his letter

your whole life you have been able to wait patiently

you wonder what has changed now that mere weeks feel like an eternity

the day yeosang’s letter is due to arrive, you are sporadic bursts of giggles, twirls and skips throughout the palace

even juwon is starting to become sick of getting swept up into a crushing hug to the cheery tune of i loveee youuuu every single time you pass him

nothing can bring you down from cloud nine

only…the letter never comes

not the day after, not the week after, not the month after

you’re disappointed, of course, but you busy yourself with reasons why yeosang has not replied, and you don’t give up

you send him another letter, and then another, and another

sometimes you just tell him about your day - what made you smile, what made you sad, something interesting you saw, something your little brother said

other times you tell him about yourself - your hobbies, likes and dislikes, aspirations, fears

and you also wonder about him

you ask what he likes, what he smiles at, what makes him sad, what his dreams are

with each letter that you hand over to eunju to be delivered, it becomes harder and harder to stay optimistic - not even the words of encouragement from your favourite maid lifts your spirits

you continue like this for over a year, still yet to receive a reply

until-

you do.

it feels like you are brought back to that very night of your first meeting, feeling so very alive as hope and excitement cascade into your body the moment eunju hands you a letter with a smile

with shaking hands, you fumble to unpeel the wax seal and free the envelope’s contents - a single piece of paper, neatly folded

your mind races with anticipated words and explanations

perhaps he had been too shy to reciprocate your letters earlier

or perhaps your letters had been lost in transit

you unfold the parchment as the hairs on your skin raise in anticipation, only to find it blank save for one scrawled sentence in the middle of the paper-

stop sending me letters.

and just like that, the clock strikes twelve

your carriage reverts into a pumpkin

and your carefully curated story of prince charming disintegrates into ashes

you don’t write to him again.

years later, the stacks of parchment scrolls on the wooden desk of the guest room you are currently residing in feel like a fresh slap in the face each time your eyes land on them

they are a stark reminder of your very own letters, the cold rejection you received, and the irony of the only letter you ever received again following his being one from the kang monarchs, announcing the proceeding of the royal wedding between you and their son

now, only a few days newly-wed to yeosang, the king and queen are gracious enough to let you sleep in one of the guest rooms temporarily, under your claims of adjusting to a life in a new kingdom and as a wife

really, you are trying to avoid yeosang for as long as you can

you spend your time instead getting to know his little sister better, which is why you find yourself sitting side by side with yeoreum, legs dangling off the edge of your bed

she eyes the vase of flowers on your bedside table curiously, “did you buy that?”

“no,” you reach out to touch the baby’s breath, “someone delivered it to my room”

you had offhandedly mentioned to some of your staff the other day that flowers would make your room look more homey, and you had woken up the morning after to find the beautiful vase teeming with flowers next to you

“why?” you ask yeoreum when she hums thoughtfully

“it looks just like the vase in my brother’s room, but he’s weird about it. yeo never lets anyone touch it, much less have it”

you blanch a little, “in that case i’ll give it back to him later then”

“you don’t like it? or…you don’t like my brother? my brother talks about you a lot, you know,” she reveals

caught off-guard by her perceptiveness, you reveal that you have been hurt before

you don’t specify by what exactly or who it is that you’re talking about, but she seems to understand regardless

later that night, sweet yeoreum barges into yeosang’s room and with as much feistiness as she can muster, she glares at her brother and interrogates, “what did you do to make her upset?”

before he can so much as blink, yeoreum concludes, “you boys are dumb. go talk to her and fix it or something,” and then walks out with a huff

there’s no one there to witness it, but yeosang nods anyway

heart feeling a little heavy after your conversation with yeoreum, you head towards the kitchen to seek solace in the sweet pastry you are usually served each morning

the first time you tasted the danish pastry, decorated with strawberries and cream cheese, was when you had traveled to yeosang’s palace at the age of sixteen for your first meeting

you remember the blissful expression that had bloomed across your face with your initial bite, and no dessert ever captivated your tastebuds quite the same way ever again

if there is one good thing out of this arranged marriage with yeosang, then it would be the reunion between yourself and the strawberry danish

“your highness,” the head chef bows, followed by the rest of the staff in the kitchen, “how may we help you?”

when you ask for one of the pastries, the head chef apologises that there are none

“but we can make you one now, if you do not mind waiting”

you tell him not to go to the trouble and ease his worries, “i just thought there may have been leftover pastries”

“we make only one fresh every morning, specifically for you,” the chef explains, and confusion must settle across your features because he adds on, “his highness has expressed that you may like them”

oh?

flustered, you can only muster a short response of, “i do, thank you,” before you smile once more and excuse yourself

because of all people to notice and remember such a small detail, and then to go out of their way to put in the request with the kitchen on the off chance that it was still true, it was yeosang?

first the vase, and now this

you feel something deeply buried inside of you start to stir but you rush to nip it in the bud

your head and your heart are beginning to wage war against each other and suddenly everything feels like it’s too much

when you reach your bedroom, you throw open the double doors to step out onto the balcony, welcoming the chilling breeze of the darkening sky

you’re tired of fearing rejection if you open up

you’re tired of questioning yeosang’s intentions

and on top of it all, you suddenly miss home and you miss your parents and you miss juwon and-

“are you okay?”

yeosang’s soft question startles you, having missed his knocking at your door

he walks closer to join you out on the balcony when he sees that the answer is obviously a no, and he prompts you again, “what’s wrong?”

thoughts of vases and strawberry pastries flit across your mind

you start with half truths

“just missing my little brother”

“you love him a lot, don’t you,” yeosang smiles sweetly, “i can see it in the way you take care of yeoreum”

you can’t help the heat that slowly creeps up the back of your neck and to your ears, because it implies that he’s noticed all the times you’ve showered his little sister with the same love you give to juwon

it implies he’s noticed you

“what’s your fondest memory of juwon?” he asks when you nod

something within you thaws slightly at the fact that yeosang remembers your little brother’s name

you step closer to the edge of the balcony so that you can overlook the garden outside your room a little clearer, resting your hand on the railing as yeosang waits patiently

“we used to have this game we played. we had a lot of gardenia flowers growing around our courtyard and juwon loved cutting some to make me a mini bouquet,” you pause to shake your head with a chuckle, “it drove our mother nuts”

“doesn’t sound like it stopped him from continuing though, did it?” yeosang questions with mirth

“no, it didn’t,” your heart aches with fondness. “he would use a certain number of gardenias and make me guess what phrase containing the same number of letters he had in mind”

it never failed to tug your mouth into a smile whenever juwon giggled at your attempts to guess the flower phrase, even when most times he would bound away whilst singing answers like y-o-u s-t-i-n-k or d-u-m-b d-u-m-b

yeosang supports himself on the railing with one hand as he nearly folds in on himself in laughter, and before you know it, you too are gasping for air and wiping away tears from your eyes

when you both calm down relatively enough, only intermittent chuckles leaving your lips, yeosang clears his throat and scratches his neck awkwardly

“i know it might not be much, but maybe we can go out into town tomorrow and it might take your mind off things? and we can bring yeoreum along if that makes you feel more comfortable, because you’ve probably spent more time alone with her than you have with me?”

you don’t admit it, but you’re already feeling a little better, so you decide to tease, “are you asking me out on a date right now, kang yeosang?”

“oh, well, we’d be doing things a little backwards since we’re already like, married…but, yes? maybe? is that okay?”

it’s yeosang’s turn to flush a deep red as his usually composed demeanor is reduced to stutters, but you don’t notice under the faint glow cast by the moon now reigning the sky

“yeah, that’s okay”

you and yeosang smile fondly as your little trio stroll through a nearby town the following morning, his younger sister skipping ahead to peer at the colourful trinkets being sold at the market stalls, and your own small squad of royal soldiers following behind at a respectful distance

it’s kind of endearing how yeosang points out item after item, asking whether you like it or whether you find it pretty, in a not-so-subtle attempt to learn about your preferences

you have to stop him from buying you something from every second stall you both pass, but you’re unable to convince him from purchasing a small wooden toy as a gift for juwon, insisting that you give it to your little brother the next time you see him

the more you actually interact and talk with yeosang, the harder you find it to associate him with the memory of the yeosang in your rejected letters

because the equation of the letters, the vase and the pastries just does not add up

as you two sit under the awning of a small shop, watching yeoreum play with the shopkeeper’s dog, you find yourself unable to hold back anymore

“why didn’t you reply to my letters?” you break the silence, trying to hide the hurt laced in your voice

yeosang looks at you with wide eyes as his mouth stutters open

and in the smallest voice you have ever heard him speak with, he says

“you wrote me letters?”

your eyebrows knit together as your eyes dart back and forth between his, searching for any hint of deception

“too many to count,” you confess, “until you sent a letter telling me to stop…”

“impossible. i never got your letters”

your head recoils back as you try to make sense of his words, “but-”

“wait,” he interrupts

yeosang reaches into his robes, pulling out a small, wooden block, extending it out closer to you as he asks, “do you recognise this?”

upon closer inspection, you realise it’s a square seal stamp

it has the character ‘姜’ carved into it and you’ve seen it enough times to know it represents the kang family name - but the inscription that stylises the border is unfamiliar

“not the seal, no”

he swallows apprehensively, “i stamp all my letters with this to certify authenticity”

you let his words sink in as they throw you into a sandstorm of bewilderment

“but then-”

but then who wrote the letter?

and where did all your letters go?

the only people who would have known about them would be the royal couriers and…eunju

a memory flashes through your mind - the moment she handed you a letter with a smile

no, not a smile, you realise

a smirk

you are simultaneously overwhelmed with betrayal, guilt and apologeticness

yeosang doesn’t push you for a response, and you come to recognise that you are also grateful

“i’m sorry for doubting you,” you tell him

it’s nowhere close to the amount of things you want to confess, but it is a start, one that yeosang picks up on and understands immediately

“no, i’m sorry you felt the need to doubt me,” he offers. “that i didn’t make you feel loved enough”

“but i did, actually. the vase and the pastries, then our conversation last night…and even today”

he blushes a deep red as you list the things off with your fingers

“you weren’t meant to find out about the first two,” yeosang admits as he ducks his head shyly

then he suddenly perks up with a sudden thought

he ruffles inside his satchel that had been abandoned to one side, mumbling, “my sister said i did something to upset you…so i um, got you these”

he turns around to reveal a bouquet of flowers, looking a little rough for wear after being hidden in his bag all morning, but his clumsy consideration only serves to makes your heart skip dangerously

“forgive me?” he asks cheekily, and you both giggle at the absurdity of his question because it should very well be the other way around

“if you insist,” you take the bouquet into your hands

and finally, you allow the chains around your heart to fall away, “i can’t say no to my husband, can i?”

yeosang lets out a little squeak as you look at the bouquet more clearly, counting the number of flowers

you turn to ask if he remembers the game you told him about, but the way yeosang suddenly finds the patch of dirt near his foot absolutely fascinating tells you everything that you need to know

eight flowers

eight letters

i l-o-v-e y-o-u

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redtsundere-writes · 8 days

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We need sukuna brutally murdering another servant because they put reader in a bad mood. ITS NOT A WANT ITS A NEED PLEASE

Blood Bath | Sukuna Ryomen

king!sukuna ryomen x femservant!reader

Sypnosis: The king needs to wash himself after defending his favorite servant. Contents: king x servant, kinda fluffy I guess, murder, a bit of humiliation, nudity. Word count: 2255 words. Author's note: Thanks for the request, anon! I was already writing this fic when I received your message, so it was a great add-in! Beginning. ← Previous | Next →

Sukuna left the castle a week ago. He set out for distant lands to conquer villages, eat its people and spread the terror on his behalf. The absence of his presence was noticeable in the magnificent palace. Peace reigned in the spotless marble hallways, the quiet kitchen and the solitary great hall. Despite not having the pressure of everything being perfect, the servants were making sure the castle would shine for the king's return. The servants walked around at their leisure, pretending they owned the place. They ate at whatever time they wanted, lay down to rest on the lawn of the parade ground, and talked loudly about the rumors that have been surfacing about your relationship with the king.

Recently, it had come to your attention that you were Sukuna's favorite servant, but no one knew exactly why. The consensus had concluded that it was because you were his mistress. Sukuna used to lock himself in his room with you for hours at a time and always came out with a broad smile. The truth is that you didn't sleep with him, you just gave him massages, fixed his outfits and sometimes talked for hours. You tried several times to clear up the rumors, but no one believed you.

It was a rainy summer afternoon. You and a small group of servants were cleaning the great hall, the largest room in the castle. Surrounded by white concrete columns that rose to the ceiling, you sternly swept the red carpet that indicated the center. Diamond chandeliers softly lit the place, statues of the king stood tall and the beautiful hand-painted mural raised on the ceiling harmonized the entire room. The drops fell softly against the giant window in which the green outside could be admired.

“When do you think our king will return?” One servant asked the other as they cleaned the decorative torches that rested on steel bases around the perimeter.

“He won't be long, he has to come back to his mistress,” the other one joked. They both let out small, annoying laughs.

Those kinds of comments had become more recurrent as the days went by. You knew they did it on purpose. They raised their voices every time you entered the room or when you were about to go to sleep. None of the other servants seemed to want to intrude to keep what little peace they had. You slammed the broom down on the carpet hard to take out your frustration.

“How disgusting to be that monster's mistress, don't you think?” the other one asked. You could feel her piercing gaze on the back of your head, waiting for you to react to her uncalled-for comment.

“I know! I don't know how she can sleep with someone as creepy as our king,” she replied with disgust in her voice.

Those two had crossed the line. You firmly grabbed the broomstick to confront them about their lousy topic of conversation. You approached them at a steady pace, dragging the broomstick in case you needed it as a weapon to defend yours and your king’s honor.

“That's enough!” you scolded. “I don't sleep with our king! Besides, he may be a monster, but thanks to him, we can eat fresh food, sleep in comfortable beds and live in a magnificent palace! If I were you, I'd stop barking, bitches!” You exploded after such a long time of having to put up with their out-of-place comments.

“Shut up! You're only defending him because you're his favorite whore!” One of them exclaimed, throwing the feather duster in her face.

“Yeah, shut the fuck up, who-!”

A fine cut echoed throughout the great hall. A large splash of blood fell on your face, blinding you for a couple of seconds. The slight gasp of surprise from the other servants left you speechless. You dropped the broom to scrub your eyes. What had happened? You backed up in desperation until you ran into a wall that wasn't there before. After a crack, it all made sense. You looked up to see Sukuna's sharp jaw. Dried blood tainted his skin, his breath was cut short from exhaustion. He was back home after conquering another empire successfully.

“Does anyone have anything else to say?” Sukuna asked the other servants, who were kneeling before him, giving him a warm welcome.

You knew you should kneel, but seeing the lifeless bodies of what used to be your gossiping companions made your body freeze. Their heads had been cut in half and the rest of their bodies were shattered. What used to be two women were now small pools of blood and bones. Sukuna had erased their existence with just a couple of his fingers. It was a scene you never thought your eyes would see in the flesh. That would be your fate if you did not obey your master's orders.

“This is a reminder that I can get rid of you just as quickly,” he threatened. His thick voice echoed off the walls. “If I hear that you even dare to speak blasphemies about me or one of your companions, I will not hesitate to kill you. Do you understand?” The servants, still kneeling, said, “Yes, my king,” in unison.

Coming out of your state of shock, you turned around to kneel at his feet. Sukuna looked at your small figure compared to him. He had heard how you had defended his honor in the face of annoying accusations. He knew you were a good servant, but now you had proven to him that you were loyal.

“Welcome home, my king,” you greeted in a trembling voice. Your body was still processing the murder your eyes had witnessed.

“Draw me a bath,” he ordered, brushing past your greeting.

“Yes, my king.”

You ran as fast as possible to his room to get there before him. Luckily, you had cleaned the bathroom thoroughly the day before, so everything was ready for the king to relax properly. You turned on the faucet to fill the tub with hot water, sprinkled scented bath salts, filled the water with bubbles and lit a few candles to romance the atmosphere. Sukuna soon arrived. Without a word, he began to undress as usual. Obediently, you stood in front of the wall to give her privacy.

“Since when?” He asked you as he untied the knots of his garments and let them fall to the floor. You could only hear the fabric sliding down his Herculean body.

“I don't understand the question, my king,” you answered confused, looking at the wall full of green tiles.

“How long have they been bothering you?” Sukuna completed the question while analyzing your figure from behind. He could tell you were nervous in his presence. It was the first time you saw him kill someone, it must have made quite an impression on you.

“Since a couple of months ago,” you answered.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Sukuna entered the bathtub, which was already bubbling. You closed the bath faucet and approached a stool to begin the most complicated task, washing his hair.

“I didn't want to waste your time.” You prepared the utensils: a sponge, a small wooden bowl and glass bottles filled with the hair products.

“You don't dictate what I do with my time,” he replied sternly.

Sukuna stepped into the tub so you could easily reach his head, drowning his torso into the soapy water. With the help of a soft sponge, you wet his pale pink hair, taking care that the water did not enter his ears. The king closed his eyes, letting himself be carried away by the pleasant sensation after a week of consecutive massacres. Untangling his short hair with a wooden comb, avoiding pulling too much so as not to hurt him. You placed the shampoo directly on his head and massaged the product into the roots.

Sukuna hummed happily every time your fingers gently stroked his scalp. You were so gentle with him even though he was the worst monster ever. You scratched, stroked and massaged his skull to your heart's content. While you let the product work, you focused on his broad shoulders. Your hands roamed his upper body calmly and patiently. The king was tired from having fought day after day and night after night to leave his name high as the greatest conqueror, you could tell by how tense his skin was.

“Answer me a question,” Sukuna asked with his eyes closed.

“As many as you wish, my king.”

“Are you loyal to me because you are afraid of me or because I am powerful?” He asked firmly.

“Both. I am afraid of you because you are powerful,” you replied as you took the bowl of water to rinse his hair.

Sukuna smiled in satisfaction with your answer. That's why you were his favorite servant. You are a perfectionist, shrewd and perceptive. You always managed to surprise him in a different way every time. Something no woman had ever managed to do before. Sukuna twisted his torso to face you. Your face and your white clothes were inked with the blood of your companions. He couldn't let you work like that, after all, it's his fault you were stained.

“Take off your clothes and come in,” he ordered.

“What?” You asked, shocked.

“You're dirty. Come in. I won't repeat myself,” Sukuna demanded.

You nodded and started to undress before his eyes. He had seen hundreds of women undress before. He knows what a pair of striking breasts, sexy hips and long legs look like, but even so, he was mesmerized as he watched you unfold before his eyes. Each garment slid down your body delicately, your hairs bristled from the change in temperature and your nipples stood erect at the lustfulness. No one but your mother had ever seen you naked. You had never been with a man, let alone a monster as imposing as he was.

Sukuna held out his hand to help you into the large tub. You sat in front of him and covered your breasts with the glistening bubbles that floated around you. He took one of the sponges and soaked it with soap to gently clean your face. The now dried blood came off easily. His black claws sometimes scratched your cheeks, but you could tell he was trying to be as gentle as possible with your beautiful face.

“It's not necessary, I can do it myself,” you asked, trying to take the sponge from him.

“I can wash my own hair too, but I prefer you to do it. Let me do it,” he replied before filling the bowl with water and wetting your hair.

He repeats the same process as you. The warm water, the closeness of your bodies and his hands taking care of your hair, transported you to fantasies where you had a relationship beyond king-servant. They were romantic ideas of a Sukuna you didn't quite know. A Sukuna who hugged you every time he saw you, who gave you head pats every time you did something right, and who sat you on his wide lap, demanding attention.

Someone knocked on the door, to which Sukuna allowed access. It was Uraume, who had just heard that the king had returned and what had happened with the reckless maids. What they did not expect was to see you in the bathtub next to his majesty, but even so, they decided not to ask details of how they had come to that situation.

“Welcome home, your majesty.” Uraume bowed from the doorway. “Dinner is ready. You must be hungry after the long journey.”

“I'll be there in a minute,” Sukuna answered. Uraume bowed again and left the room.

“They won't say anything,” Sukuna assured you before getting out of the tub. You were about to get out to give him his towel too, but he stopped you. “The water is still hot, it would be a shame to waste it,” he said before taking the towel and wrapping it around his waist.

“It's my job to do it,” you said.

“Your job is to obey me,” he dictated seriously. You sat back down in the tub and nodded. “Good girl,” he said with a satisfied smile before leaving the bathroom.

Sukuna returned to the bathroom and looked in his closet for what he would wear to dinner. He glanced into the bathroom from time to time to observe you. A small naked human wrapped in the ethereal steam of her innocence. He could have any woman in the world. Why was his mind obsessed with your beauty, your words, and your docility? He didn't know exactly, but he was sure you were completely his, so he didn’t have anything to worry about.

You stood alone with your thoughts in the elegant bath. You plunged your body into the water, submerging your head in the bubbles. Heads cut in half, his big hands stroking your hair, brains strewn across the carpet, his gentle touch as he washed your face. The quick, deep images made you feel confused. Your head went back up to the surface as you realized you were short of breath. You brushed your wet hair back to take a deep breath. What were you doing? Where were you? What kind of person were you serving? Sukuna confused you with his actions, and now you didn't know what to do with your poor heart beating a mile a minute for him.

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saintobio · 1 month

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LONG LIVE THE VILLAINESS !

amidst the tale of sweetest love and bitterest revenge, the fallen empress is cast back ten years into the past to correct her sins and avoid eternal damnation, even at the price of betraying her once husband, the very cause of her downfall.

♱ pairings. gojo satoru, fem!reader

♱ genre. enemies-to-lovers, period piece, medieval au

♱ tags. ooc, regression, crown prince!gojo, noble lady!reader, politics, classism, clan wars, religion (catholicism), misogyny, violence, war, rebellion, suggestive, smut, gore, double life, explicit language, more to be added

♱ notes. this fic draws heavy inspirations from the webnovel ‘sister, i am the queen in this life’ and manhwa of the same name. it’s basically a fanfic of that series bc i am obsessed with it :’D

♱ status. on-going (slow updates)

♱ THIS SERIES WILL SERVE AS THE THE SECOND TIMELINE -> READ HERE FOR THE FIRST TIMELINE (ORIGINAL STORY) ♱

PROLOGUE.

ACT I. THE LADY

ACT II. THE CROWN PRINCE

ACT III. THE KNIGHT

ACT IV. THE STAR CROSSED LOVERS

ACT V. THE BLESSED

ACT VI. THE SIN

ACT VII. THE REVELATION

ACT VIII. THE ENEMY

ACT IX. THE LOVER

ACT X. THE EMPRESS

EPILOGUE.

PROLOGUE

Like plunging beneath the surface of water and then, abruptly, breaking through to the air above—your body jolted as if awakening in a new world altogether. You drew in a long breath, your eyes fluttering open to reveal the ceiling, both familiar yet unfamiliar in its greeting. Swiftly, you surveyed your surroundings, noting with growing recognition the confines of your old room within the De Roma estate. The estate!

You were not in the palace of Caelum, but in the estate of House De Roma. A surge of realization flooded through you as you dashed towards the nearest mirror, confronting your reflection with wide, startled eyes.

No... could it be... that you have returned to your body, ten years prior?!

In the mirror, the reflection staring back at you was not that of the notorious wife of the tyrant Emperor Satoru, but of a 20-year-old maiden, the eldest daughter of Duke de Roma, with fuller cheeks and a more youthful appearance. You could not shake the feeling of disbelief, wondering if this was all just a dream, so you reached out to touch your arms and felt the flesh beneath your fingers, trying to convince yourself that this was an unexpected reality.

Oh, you were back. You found yourself returned to your former self, a decade younger, but now armed with the knowledge of your past life's actions and their consequences. Alongside this newfound understanding, the gift of clairvoyance had also been bestowed upon you.

And for what? Why had the heavens above returned you to your body? Was it for revenge, a second chance, or perhaps punishment?

Suddenly, a loud, deafening sound pierced your ears, and a blinding white light enveloped your vision. Your body became as still as a statue, and it felt as though your soul was transported to a fourth dimension where divine intervention seemed a lot more plausible to exist.

As your soul hovered in the liminal space between life and death, you found yourself standing before a figure cloaked in billowing robes, her presence commanding and her gaze piercing. This figure was Fortuna, the ancient Caelan goddess of fortune and fate, her visage austere and unforgiving.

“Are you aware of the sins that stain your soul?”

“Have you felt the weight of your transgressions, the consequences of your actions that have wrought suffering upon your people and brought ruin to your empire?”

Her voice echoed through the realm with the divine judgment that weighed upon your conscience, while her gaze penetrated to the core of your being and demanded honesty and accountability in the face of your past misdeeds.

“Will you atone for your sins?”

“Will you seize this opportunity for redemption, or will you squander it in self-pity and remorse?”

As you stood in the presence of the ancient goddess, grappling with the heaviness of your sins and the daunting task ahead, a brilliant light had all of a sudden illuminated the space around you. From the heart of this radiant glow emerged the figure of Archangel Raphael, his presence heralded by a chorus of angelical voices and the stirring of celestial winds.

Clad in robes that seemed to shimmer with the intensity of celestial light, Archangel Raphael's presence commanded attention, his wings unfurled behind him in a display of resolute authority. If Goddess Fortuna was intimidating, the archangel was fearsome all the more. His gaze, intense and penetrating, swept over you with a gravity that left no room for evasion or deceit.

“Empress of Caelum,” he spoke, his tone firm and unyielding, and his voice carrying a billion years of heavenly existence, “You stand accused of grievous sins, crimes that have shaken the very foundations of your empire and brought suffering upon your people.”

There was no trace of softness in Archangel Raphael's demeanor, no room for mercy in the face of wrongdoing. His presence was a testament to the uncompromising nature of divine justice, his strictness a reflection of the solemn duty entrusted to him as an Archangel of the Almighty. This, no doubt, was the face of a true and formidable executor of justice.

And you, the subject, had angered the divine beings that guarded the Caelan Empire, so much so that God himself sent the goddess of the land and one of his archangels to mitigate your rightful punishment.

“By the decree of the Almighty, you are granted a second chance to amend your sins and redeem your soul. You shall return to the mortal realm, to live your life anew and correct the sins that have stained your soul.”

“Should you fail to rectify your past transgressions, should you stray from the path of righteousness and succumb once more to the temptations of darkness, know that the consequences shall be severe and eternal.”

“For those who squander the gift of divine mercy shall be cast into the deepest depths of hell, where they shall endure a punishment of unending torment and suffering.”

In the presence of Archangel Raphael and Goddess Fortuna’s equally stern gazes, you were keenly aware of the magnitude of your transgressions and the severity of the judgment that awaited you. But even as you trembled beneath the weight of their scrutiny, you knew that their presence also offered you the opportunity for redemption, with your only task to prove yourself worthy of divine mercy.

Indeed, it was by your very hands that hundreds and thousands of Christian souls shed their blood. Innocent lives, both young and old, were cruelly taken at your command. The citizens of Caelum who fell sick from the spread of the plague. The esteemed Caelan advisors of your husband’s primogenitors, skinned alive and speared in pikes by the Tiber River. The wrongly accused maid who suffered the indignity of serving your husband, paraded unclothed through the streets and subjected to the brutality of the pear of anguish. The gallant and dignified knight, tortured mentally and physically in the atrocious dungeon. Now, you find yourself thrust back into the horrors of your former life ten years hence. A life of a noble lady who ought not to be blinded by her destructive love for the empire’s crown prince.

Yet, could you truly navigate this life without ascending to the position as his empress?

As you tried to commune with the divine beings afore you, a haze in your vision transported you away from the heavenly space, realizing that you were already drawn back into the reality of your chamber, inhabiting the youthful frame of a twenty-year-old daughter of a duke. You found yourself too astonished to move, too shaken to speak, and too afraid to take any action in this new lease of life blessed upon you. At that very moment, your state of reverie was disrupted at the arrival of your maid, who entered your chamber in a humble servant garb.

Milena. The maid whose life was cut short by your hand in your past existence due to petty thievery. “My lady,” she spoke with a hint of respect and urgency, unaware of the ill-fate you had given her in your past life, “A visitor has arrived at the gates and requests an audience with you. Shall I show them in?”

Too soon? Need it truly be so soon to engage with the people from your past life immediately after awakening to your old, yet younger body? Gazing upon your maid through the mirror, you asked, “Who is that intruder you speak of?”

She bowed her head, her stance shifting into one of apologetic deference. The way she firmly stood by your door was a message to you that the intruder was not someone you could easily reject the presence of.

“The visitor is His Highness, Crown Prince Satoru.”

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶��⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

#series: lltv #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk royal au #slow updates bc sy is prio #i will not write this in archaic english anymore ITS HARD AF #but i had to put this out there so i can remind myself to write it *sobs*#might just write this on the side

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luxthestrange · 10 months

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TWST Incorrect quotes#547 Not in front of the babies-

You are currently dressed up in silks and cloak for Your and Silver's presence doesn't startle the locals of briar valley...tho having Lilia & Baul as your outfit helpers were...

Yuu*is wearing silk pants* How does this look?

RoyalGuard!Lilia*Eyes glued to the knot holding your pants to your...soft human skin waist*...Like its slips on and off really easily...

Yuu:...

RoyalGuard!Lilia*Realized a tad too late what he said*N-No, I didn't mean it like that-

Baul*With Baby Sebek and Silver climbing him like monkies, unmoving looking at Lilia with judgy eyes*We know what you meant

#twst disney #twisted wonderland x yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #twst yuu #twst diasomnia #diasomnia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge x yuu #lilia vanrouge #royal guard lilia #general lilia vanrouge #baul zigvolt #silver vanrouge #sebek zigvolt #twst fluff #twst in the nutshell #twst incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes #twst smut

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imagine-darksiders · 29 days

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I'm still feral about him.

#Bowser #Bowser x reader #Royal reader #Mario #super mario bros #mario movie #king bowser #koopa #sketch #meme #doodle #rizz

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driaswrld · 5 months

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🪷 — A ROYAL AFFAIR . . . THE SCANDAL OF THE CHILDHOOD CONSORT

LADY DRIA WRITES . . . ˚ ༘ *

🪷 dearest gentle reader, what is a princess to do when she's caught between two dashing princes, both of which are her childhood friends? — one her betrothed and the other her past love... 4.7k words.

🪷 prince gojo x reader x prince geto jjk regency/royal au, use of regency era terminology, longing and more longing.

🪷 taglist : (lmk if you want to be added or removed!) @angelshimaa @yunymphs @todorokies @satocidal @maeby-cursed @rinniessance @cinnabooonn @shegetsburned @starry-grace2 @selfishdoll @shuuennovirche @wishmemel @riaki @yazzzmints @aphroditisxc @gojorbit @izakyun @satoruoo @irisxyphium @zwtari @/lollipop974 @r0ckst4rjk @softgirlgonehaywire @lilvampirina @brianmaysclog

CHAPTER ONE. . . ˚ ༘ *

L'INCOMPARABLE.

Talks of betrothal began in the last Spring of your youth.

Under the cherry blossom trees, you sit in silence, fuchsia petals decorating the length of your hair in messy scatters.

Satoru Gojo, crowned prince and heir to the Gojo throne, picks the fallen remnants of flowers from your hair one by one as the nobles watch on.

Whispers of ‘they would make such a beautiful match’ and ‘look how the Prince dotes on her’ echo in the brush of the gardens, women whispering among themselves and the men chortling between swings of their mallets — in a near deathly game of pall mall.

“Don’t hide from me,” Satoru dips his head, breath fanning the shell of your ear. If possible, the whispers intensify, cutting past your ears and you bite back a giggle, stifling down the thought that crosses your mind, attention whore.

“I’m not hiding, your highness.” You counter, shifting to the side, your smile hidden behind a porcelain teacup, swift sips of ginger warming your cheeks.

“It’s improper, you know.” The words linger in the air between soft wisps of wind, flurries of foreign fabrics and bright layers of skirts pass your vision — and yet, all is drowned out by him.

Your anointed Prince, the attention whore.

“Improper to gaze upon my companion?” Satoru scoffs, grinning wide, toothy, dimples.

Childhood found you both tethered like bee and nectar, always close, always coming back.

At first, it was through duty, sharp tongued ten year old Satoru Gojo, a prince born with a halo and the title of the realm’s strongest to his name, meeting you, the humble princess of the Western kingdom, born in valor and sprouted in pride, a warrior’s code.

It was a disastrous first few encounters—

(—but then he was your bestfriend, and you his. )

His dear mother, bless her soul, had taken the time out to host this marvelous garden party to welcome the newest maidens into their debuts – moreso, to marry Satoru off quicker than he could leave for another battle, chasing another war – and yet, he cared not to meet with any of the women or entertain them beyond an inch of his being.

Not around you, at least.

“You shouldn’t jest about these things—!” A snort leaves your mouth, and whereas the ever uppity ladies of the palace court gawk at you in utter disbelief and mild disgust, Satoru finds himself bellowing a boyish laugh.

That was the last time he’d laugh like that with you, before a warm spring of youth turned to a burning summer, hot with passion, scorched with lust.

THE SCANDAL OF THE CHILDHOOD CONSORT.

Dearest gentle reader,

As all royal scandals do,

It started with an invitation.

We cordially invite you to the Gojo palace grounds to celebrate the betrothal of our crowned prince Satoru Gojo and his bride to be [name] [name].

This author finds herself compelled and rather . . . intrigued.

What a match made in heaven! Our beloved Prince Satoru and his most dearest childhood friend!

Your fingers tremble at your sides, the aura that is the strongest permeates your very being. The soft hum of piano keys coupled with string and bow becomes near inaudible – the power Satoru Gojo has on you is like a moth to a flame, lamb to slaughter.

But I assure you,

When it comes to matters of the heart —

Carefully, your feet carry you across the crowded ballroom, mass of bodies parting the instant they catch a glimpse of your eyes – that desperation is familiar in young women like you – and they pity you.

You, who should be above them, who should be the next Queen, the current Princess consort to be.

And yet.

“I’ve told you endlessly, I will take no wife!” Satoru’s voice is a staccato, bouncing off the walls of the vacant corridor adjacent to the ballroom, echoing past your ears.

Dare I say, our beloved crowned Prince

Is not the strongest.

“Some nerve you have, boy.”

Satoru’s father, the King, is a stoic man.

You’ve come to know this well in your youth. He rules firm and his word remains law. By no means is he the strongest or possesses any more battle capacity than that of any other noble, but he remains a political stronghold.

And his grip over his family — his subjects, remains unwavering.

“I don’t care for your affairs or your crown,” Satoru’s gaze remains hard, even as he meets his father’s ire in tow, and in such a barely secluded place too. “Let one of your bastards have it, my place is on the battlefield doing what you are too cowardly to.”

Your mind runs rampant, palms pressed against the cold wall concealing your presence.

You wonder what Satoru might be thinking — if he’d be so foolish as to forsake his lineage and do away with his duty, if he’d give up simply because his fate was not his choice — he wouldn’t.

No, Satoru is good and kind, and he would see this kingdom to a new realm of peace just with his bare hands alone.

“And that is all? You wish to do away with it simply because it does not suit your childish desires? I have given you everything! And the one thing I ask of you—”

You still yourself at the near animalistic growl that leaves Satoru’s lips.

“She will never be Queen.”

It cuts through you like blades of grass, familiar, scratching at your skin softly, pinpricks of green drawing blood from your calves.

It reminds you of when you were younger, more naive and susceptible to the follies of men and matters of the heart.

“Who’ll marry you if you spend your days swinging a sword and broadening your shoulders?”

“Aren’t there girls your age you can follow around? I don’t care if you’re a princess, we’re not friends.”

“I don’t know why you’d believe he’d ever want to court you.”

Three months, thirteen days.

Your betrothal has long exceeded and broken the record of engagement wait time.

Most women would be married within the same month of betrothal, the longest and most respectable wait time being a month and a half, only due to cases of overdue dowry payments.

Three million dollars was your reverse dowry.

Paid directly from the royal treasury to your father, and four million dollars paid in return. That was how much yours and Satoru’s hands were worth to your families, a testament to the weight you’d both bear by wearing a crown.

Except, you hadn’t been crowned yet. Or married for that matter.

“—summer solstice hunt!” It’s Yuji who exclaims, voice filled with childlike wonder. Recently knighted by Satoru himself and a renowned protege of the Kingsguard, the boy is eager to please. “Who will you cast your bets on, your grace?”

The confines of Satoru’s private study function as a meeting room for idle chatting — he leaves the letters to his advisors when they are of little importance.

Or discards them entirely when he has company, like now.

You sink deeper into the cushioned seat, Satoru’s arm draped over the back of your chair. A tuft of snowy hair falls over his forehead and he breathes a chuckle, your weight curling in on itself with every rise and fall of his chest.

why don’t you want me why don’t you want me why don’t you want me why don't you want me

“It’s out of question to bet on one’s self, no?” Satoru chuckles and it earns a cackle from Yuji, who, despite himself, has already casted his own bet on his annointed Prince. “I wouldn’t want to make anyone’s head bigger than it ought to be.”

The summer and winter solstice brings with it two separate ceremonial festivals — the hunt being the most anticipated due to its cutthroat competition among nobles and peasants alike.

That, and the prize.

The winner of the hunt, the man or woman to capture the famed primordial stag — which is really a regular stag trained and bred to elude even the most skilled knights — would be rewarded a grand jewel from the Queen’s vault.

Gentle reader,

The famed jewel for the taking

This summer, is none other than—

“I’ve placed my bet on you,” you comment plainly with a shrug and Yuji beams.

It isn’t unlike you to root for one of Satoru’s proteges, the ones fairly skilled and new to knighthood – you’ve always found yourself cheering for the peonies in a garden full of roses — the underdogs full of potential . . .

Satoru glances over to you, and for a second you miss how his gaze lingers.

“You’re too kind, Princess…” Yuji sighs, near dreamily. “I will no doubt do well now that I have your favor on my side.”

( losing dogs, satoru wants to say. all you ever do is bet on losing dogs. )

“You have her bet, not her favor.” Satoru scoffs dramatically before you can even think to lend Yuji your well wishes. “It isn’t something given, it’s something won. And from a maiden, not a Princess consort.”

She’s spoken for, is all you hear though.

There’s an air of uncertainty that passes between you and Satoru that only thickens with your closeness.

A pale palm curls around the cross rail of the back of your chair and you lean into his touch subconsciously – it’s warm, secure – he’s saying, I have your favor, don’t I? Tell me I do.

—The champion’s jewel,

A wraith necklace fit for a Queen.

The L’Incomparable.

“Nevertheless, you have my good faith.” You interject, followed by a sharp inhale, and you stand abruptly from your seat. Satoru’s hand falls to his side. He knows what you're thinking.

Three months, thirteen days.

You’ve sat by and watched Satoru deny you marriage – his excuse, that he’s waiting for his coronation first – you’ve watched him continue to entertain the women around him like he’s done since he was merely a squire, plastering a smile on his face from this glass castle he calls home.

He’s close, but never too close. Stringing you on then letting you loose— it’s routine.

It’s eerily similar to your childhood.

“Yuji,” Satoru speaks, soft yet firm. The young boy is on his feet immediately and offers a swift bow to his majesty, handing his service in tow to the call. “Leave us.” Satoru commands, and just as swiftly as he came, Yuji is bowing to you and exiting through the study doors.

L’Incomparable.

The largest internally flawless diamond in the kingdom and the most expensive chain sitting in the Queen’s vault currently, worth eight billion dollars alone.

Allegedly, it was handcrafted as a gift from an ancient Gojo king to his mistress — whom he had knighted and sent off to fight in the war at her wishes once their affair had been brought to light and scrutinized.

A gift he only got to place on her corpse.

Even in death, he loved her. More than he loved his own wife and Queen.

And though many attempts had been made to destroy the necklace, it remains near indestructible.

“Something troubles you.” Satoru murmurs the moment the door clicks shut. His gaze remains strained forward on your form, from where you fiddle with the frayed hem of your gown, back turned to him.

“I simply think of the prospects of the hunt,” you retort. “There are many promising young competitors traveling to partake— I fear my Prince would simply be. . . thwarted, is all.”

L’Incomparable is not a jewel of love.

It's a sickening story of a woman who loved a man who could not love her back in the way she deserved.

A woman who took what she was given, secret meetings, hushed whispers and fleeting gazes.

And when he did, finally love her back wholly and ardently, unable to bury it behind a locked door in the dungeon he called a heart — she was already gone.

“You doubt me?” Satoru’s voice is closer now, and you wonder when he even stood up – if he'd been taking small steps toward you the entire time.

“No.” It leaves your mouth like a prayer, an oath, worship. Every ounce of confidence you have is in him. He has protected you, kept you, safeguarded your sanity and treated you with grace— “Never that.”

( —he is your friend. nothing more than that. )

He exhales, and you hear the faint sound of a swallow, the click of his tongue. Your ear feels hot with the proximity, yet, he inches closer still.

“Will you give this to me, then?” He whispers, faint, uncertain — almost desperate.

And you turn, faces inches apart, breath mingling. “What is it you wish of me, my Prince?” Your pupils dilate.

“Your Prince,” Satoru repeats, like it knocked the wind out of him. It's a common way to address the monarch, you’ve said it before as have others. “. . . asks for your favor in the upcoming hunt.”

He keeps his hands folded behind him, curled into fists and trembling. Your Prince. Yours. Yours.

He’s a gentleman. He was raised right.

This urge—

( you’re his friend. his advisor. his confidant. this is not what he wants. )

The urge to strip you down to nothing but your chemise, lay you on his desk and hike your legs over his hips, show you things you’ve only seen in dreams or read in books — like he’s done to so many women before — he promises himself he’s not a rake, he’s just a man, but when you look at him like that and say his title so softly—

( it will pass. )

“Then,” your breath slows as he steps forward, so easily leaving you pressed back against the hardwood desk, caged by him. “I will grant my Prince my favor.”

Satoru watches in earnest, places his hands on either side of you on the desk as you remove one of your gloves.

Pure white, pearl decor, lace trim.

He would've laughed if he wasn't so enthralled by such a simple thing. Satoru wants to pull the other glove off with his teeth.

“I’ll return it to you,” he says, a promise. He takes the glove as you hand it to him, leaning forward and chasing the remnants of your fingertips against his once you pull away. “When I win.”

( and maybe then, you’ll understand i am devoted to you, wholly and utterly, if only in these moments and never again. )

There's a knock at the door, brief and soft. A maid, come to drop off another stack of letters.

And just as quickly as Satoru had found himself against you, he’s across the room, opening the door.

As if you had never been there.

The only evidence that he had even touched you is the lace cupped in his palm, middle and index tracing over a minute pearl.

L’Incomparable is a jewel of longing.

Morrow brings with it the beginning of joyous festivities.

You woke to another trousseau. This time, from a distant cousin in the Easternmost kingdom.

Attached was a letter of the newest development in her love life – said development being a defected knight nonetheless.

It made you giggle.

The palace corridors are bustling with life.

Servants and attendants eager to welcome early visitors who have come for the summer solstice, robust back and forth on decorations and food and gossip and many a’ things outside the realm of possibility to be discussed in one sitting.

Your lady in waiting, Areta, whom you’ve known since your youth, creeps into your room with a grin as wide as a war banner – you immediately assume the worst, mischief is your pastime but you fear the poor girl takes ‘eavesdropping on court gossip’ to another level.

“My lady, you would not believe—” Areta huffs, journeying to sit with you on the balcony, wiping an imaginary bead of sweat from her brow. “The things I’ve heard today!”

“You hear things everyday, I fear.” You indulge her, as always. And she begins to talk your ear off, all in good faith of course.

Down below in the courtyard, is the sound of smacking wood and the occasional chorus of baritone conversation.

Satoru, who should be attending treaty meetings with his father, bides his time sparring on the cobblestone with the other men of the Kingsguard – the noise wakes you most mornings.

“—talking to Julietta, you know? The girl who attends to the countess? And she said—”

You hum along to Areta’s words, eyes peering over the edge of the balcony, gaze fixed on the crown Prince.

His snowy hair is damp with sweat, Victorian style dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves, every swing of his wooden sword causes a commotion — muscles in his back flexing under the sunlight, so easily seen beneath the thin white fabric.

“—that her lady told her that she heard from a cousin-in-law who works at the docks that—”

You wonder what expression Satoru has as he pummels through his underlings playfully, hardly sparring but more play fighting. You imagine he’s grinning wide, crystalline blue eyes shimmering with glee—

“—that Prince Geto is coming for the hunt!”

You choke. Audibly.

Areta is quick to shut her mouth and lend you a concerned gaze. “Princess, are you—”

“I’m alright.” You wave a hand, catching your breath. Prince Geto. If you think about it too hard, you fear your chest might burst open and spill out your insides.

Oh, fair reader, it seems

Our dear protagonist has come upon

A treasure trove of memories.

“You were, ehem, saying?” You twirl your index finger in the air as if to prompt a rewind. “About. . .”

Areta raises an eyebrow, but nods slowly. “About Julietta’s lady’s cousin-in-law?” The girl questions, dim.

“No!” You interject immediately, twirling your finger in the other direction. Fast forward. “The other thing— the thing you heard!”

“Oh, about Prince Geto!”

Dearest reader,

Suguru Geto enters.

A man of great mystique,

the northern Prince.

And striking opposite of

our beloved crowned Prince Satoru.

“Yes! About him—”

Suguru Geto.

In many ways you could say he was Satoru’s best friend, his greatest rival and worst enemy all at the same time.

Through solstice events, formal gatherings and other royal duties, the same way you met Satoru, you met Suguru through him.

“Well, Julietta’s lady’s cousin-in-law works at the docks,” Areta begins again, regrettably. “You know? The private harbor where all the spirit and wheat shipments come in, but that's besides the point—”

( suguru was your bestfriend too. in every way it counted. )

“Areta.” You coo, coaxing her to get back to the main point. Why was Suguru coming for the summer solstice hunt? After being away in the North for so long, why now?

The only correspondence you’d had with him was a few letters years ago. And then he stopped writing.

“So, Julietta’s lady’s cousin-in-law saw the Geto family's ship dock in the private harbor!” The girl exclaims hushedly and you hum to yourself, curious.

Rightfully, you’d hold a grudge about never hearing from Suguru.

But in this moment, you feel no resentment or hurt. Instead, excitement that you might see your old friend once more.

And maybe, you, Suguru and Satoru could spend the summer solstice together— just like old times.

( and that’d be enough to get rid of the heat in your chest when satoru gets too close to you. )

Faithful reader,

she could not have been

more wrong.

Four days remain until the summer solstice hunt.

Satoru is scarce around the palace in preparation for his coronation coming soon and treaty arrangements.

You, on the other hand, have exhausted all your hobbies, biding your idle time helping the other ladies at court pick their gowns for tomorrow's feast — the first of seven nightly ones during the solstice.

Another trousseau is delivered to your chambers when you wake.

This time, you’re taken aback.

Instead of an elaborate stack of gifts, a box of jewelry or even a scandalous collection of seductive corsets and nightgowns to remind you of your predicament—

There's a long wooden box, coupled with a sealed parcel.

Inside the box is a beautiful gown, deep burgundy and shapely. Fitted with a low bust cut and short sleeves. It's a mouth watering dress, one you would've bought yourself if you even knew it existed.

But you've never seen a dress designed like this before, down to the intricate details of the underskirts and the hemming.

It's almost intimate.

When you finally open the parcel, you expect a note, but there's none. Instead, inside is a pair of black silk gloves, so smooth it melts in your palms – your mind immediately goes to Satoru and the glove he still holds hostage for you.

You don't think twice before telling Areta that this is what you’ll be wearing to tomorrow’s feast.

( you ought to thank satoru for this gift by wearing it, no? )

˚ ༘ *

The lights in the dining hall are dimmed perfectly to match the moonlight.

When you slip in from the adjacent corridor, greeting visiting nobles and residents of the palace court alike, a sense of nausea floods the pit of your stomach – what will Satoru say when he sees you? Will he like how the dress looks – or rather how you look in it?

Wait, why do you even care?

You’ve never really cared for these things— it must be the tea you had earlier. You nearly feel faint.

Darling reader,

it was in fact,

not the tea.

Your thoughts don't get the chance to linger very long, as the soft hum of music slows to a halt, and everyone begins journeying to their assigned seats.

Naturally, you fiddle with your gloves, not wanting to sit down at the second table yet.

One, it would be very impudent of a lady of your caliber to be seated without a proper escort by a gentleman.

And two, even though you did decline the few men who asked to escort you, you can't help the anxiety that floods your veins when you begin to realize that so many people are sitting already and you're not!

Sure, you're a Princess, but can't a girl be a little shy?

( not that you were waiting for satoru or anything of course. )

Devoted reader,

our protagonist

is in denial.

“It pains me to see such a beautiful lady left unaccompanied.” A voice flits past your ears, so close you can taste it on your tongue — incense, sandalwood.

( oh god, no. )

Your body turns in an instant, almost too quick, and your underskirts almost trip you as the weight sends you wobbling forward.

“Easy—” Suguru Geto’s arm darts out to curl around your waist, steadying you.

“You're here—” “You’re still clumsy—”

The both of you lock eyes at your shared unison of speech, then chuckle to yourselves.

You let your eyes wander over his features, how much he's grown over these past years.

He’s still as ethereal as the royal painters would describe. Prince Geto, the joy to paint, once in an era type beauty, born to be depicted in art, they’d say.

You don't doubt that.

“You look well,” you say. Suguru glances down at you and shakes his head, as if that is too much of a compliment for him to take. “No, honestly— I don't tease, you look very. . . stately.”

“Are you trying to call me old in a polite way, my lady?” He feigns offense, tilting his head to the side a little. You cover your mouth to laugh.

You don't miss the way his eyes linger on your gloves.

( oh, the gloves ! )

“Your highness,” leaves your mouth in a whisper, half teasing, half regal, and you give a brief curtsy, which he counters with a swift bow. “Would you do me the pleasure?” You grin, extending your hand to him.

Suguru — never Prince Geto, not to you at least — had been your solace, your comfort and your refuge.

The greatest friend you could have asked for in your youth.

“The pleasure is all mine.” Suguru whispers, taking your hand in earnest, escorting you over to the table and pulling your chair out for you — settling himself in the seat across from you, on the other side of the table.

( what a coincidence. )

˚ ༘ *

Time passes in waves.

People are whispering, no doubt. As they always do about you. No matter how hushed, you always hear them.

‘Look at the poor Princess consort, sitting beside an empty chair.’

‘You’d think she’d refer to herself as Lady now instead of Consort—’

‘To think even a Princess is not immune from such things. . .’

‘These things happen when you're sold off to a future King.’

“Bitter.”

Your head snaps up at the sound, dessert fork halting mid stab into your slice of cake.

Suguru’s eyes meet yours, as if he’d been looking at you the entire time, like he reads your thoughts as his own.

The people sitting at the table alongside you both fix their attention on him, the whispers halting.

“The cake,” he leans back in his chair, shrugging strands of his hair out of his face, looking down the length of the table at the spectators, nonchalant. “It's terribly bitter.”

You think you’d open your mouth to scold him a little, to not joke about what people say, royals should never engage in such petty gossip – but instead, you smile in gratitude.

( bitter. everybody's so bitter in this place. )

“That's quite unfortunate.” A familiar voice rings out, your fork sliding out of your hand to rest on the edge of your plate. “I hoped it would be rather sweet tonight.”

When you look over your shoulder, Satoru is already at your side, bending a knee and outstretching an open palm to you. “My Princess.”

He looks. . . disheveled.

Not completely out of order, it's something so small — so minute that only those who know him well would be able to point it out. From the crease of his vest to the shaky rasp in his voice—

And the woman in your peripheral stumbling back into the dining hall from the garden entrance on shaky legs. . .

( so that's what he was doing. )

“Your grace,” leaves your lips in a whisper and he kisses the back of your palm before sinking into his seat.

The way he presses his middle finger against his bottom lip like he’d been burned by the silk makes you raise an eyebrow. Does he not even have the common courtesy of pretending to like the gloves he gifted?

“I’m pleased you took time out of your busy schedule for us regular people.” Suguru chuckles, and Satoru’s mother, sitting near you all at the head table seems far from pleased.

“Well, a small act of kindness goes a long way.” Satoru parries and you force a smile, stabbing your dessert once more. “Especially for someone as regular as you, Prince Suguru.”

If you had initially thought this would be a quaint rekindling of an old childhood friendship, you never felt more wrong than in this moment — the air settles thick between you three.

“Isn't the future King Gojo just so kind?” Suguru addresses you, and you swallow, stifling your laugh.

“I pray for your marriage. . .” One of the Dukes seated at the table jests, to which you fiddle with the hem of your dress, the burgundy falling over your palms as a chorus of laughter ensues.

Marriage.

Suguru notices your gaze on him – or rather far away – and he smiles to snap you out of it. “Lady name?”

Just then Satoru’s hand reaches for yours under the table, halting your fiddling with the fabric, his grip steady and soft.

“Princess Consort.” Satoru interjects with a flat lipped smile, which could be perceived as kind, but to Suguru. . . “She changed titles.”

When was the last time someone called you by your name and not Princess consort? Always that. Not even Princess name.

“Pardon me,” you mumble beneath your breath, your grip on your dress going slack. You shrug your hand free from Satoru’s grip, abandoning your seat in an instant.

Satoru rises from his chair only four seconds afterward.

“Name—” he calls to you, following you out of the dining hall and down a vacant corridor.

Your footsteps evade him as he chases after you wide steps.

But he stops dead in his tracks when he hears you slam the door to an empty side room shut.

My dearest reader,

brace yourself for the

next publication.

Your kind author

bids you farewell.

#⋆ 🪷 A ROYAL AFFAIR ! ˚ ༘ *#👑 TSCC — series.#★ driaswrld #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #satosugu x reader #satoru gojo x reader #suguru geto x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk fic

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theroyalyandere · 1 year

Text

request: So what I am thinking about is Yandere prince× reader who is tge daughter of a merchant and his childhood bestie. They have a 5 year gap and when she turned 20,she was getting engaged. So he level ups lol. Its ok if you wanna write it in headcanon style or fiction style I just want to read a royal au (I am a sucker for it.) Can I please ask it to be a little longer your emperor one was really good so it being small had really made me thirsty 🤒 and can you make it 18+ I mean yk 👀, obviously if you are comfortable. Thanks for reading all of my ramblings.

thank you for the request! :D

yandere!prince x merchant's daughter!reader (smutty 18+)

your father is a wealthy merchant close to the king and it makes sense that when you were born, you were presented at the court by the royal family's presence.

when yandere!prince first saw you he adored how a lovely baby you were and was eager to hold you. he treated you like a baby sister due to him being an only child.

you spent your childhood being at the palace mostly by the young prince's side with how compatible the both of you are.

even as a child he's very possessive of you, he does not want any children being at your proximity or anyone getting your attention away from him.

being the prince he is, you always follow his orders and in return spoiled by him.

a few years later, his platonic affections turned into romantic ones as he saw you blossom into a fine young woman.

he grew into a great prince while you were known to be the gentle and sweet girl always be his side.

he was 25 and you were 20.

he started to treat you like a lover would and it baffles you.

you tried to turn him down but he became even more affectionate when you ignore him.

you can't deny how handsome and charming he is that is making you grow flustered every minute you spend time with him.

he's known to being a gentleman when it comes to treating ladies with respect mostly showing them to you.

he's similar to how a dragon would hoard his treasure.

you're his happiness and he wouldn't want anyone or anything to take you away from him.

he treated you so well he doesn't even look at the other girls that were offered to him.

he isolates you from everyone else to the point his parents and your parents became concerned with the way he always hover around you.

when he found out your father engaged you to another noble he was angry.

you are his to claim and his to love and because of that he made a plan.

first he took you out like usual and then to the garden where you confided about your betrothal.

he feels his irritation rising with every word coming out of your mouth.

you told him that you heard some of the other girls how they got their virginity taken

which sparked your curiosity and made him grow even more hopeful on making his plan into action.

so he offered to teach you how to kiss and please a man.

you were quite reluctant but you were determined to be experienced so you agreed.

his first lesson was kissing.

at that moment he took your first kiss at the garden, he was extremely handsome and although you thought of him as an older brother with him being the only boy you spend your time with.

your kisses were clumsy but he taught you how to move you lips and tongue in accordance with his.

his kisses slowly became passionate and you have to stop him before your heart flies out of your chest.

you pull away from him breathlessly.

he chuckles at how you already look like a mess but you couldn't deny how it made you want for more.

so you pulled him close and told him to shut up and continue.

he smirks before diving back into kissing your soft lips.

he became even hungry and he also wanted more.

you couldn't forget the moment how he took you to his chambers where he undressed you and caressed your skin.

the way he gropes your body like he owns you.

he sucks deep harsh marks all over your skin and his hands roaming to appreciate your beauty. his sole focus was on you.

you whine at the marks he leaves your skin but he insists that its part of love making.

he looked at you with lust and passion behind his eyes his lips wet from the passionate kiss you both had shared.

he lovingly laid you down on his bed and took down his clothes revealing his glorious body.

he looked down at you as if you're the only treasure and the most beautiful thing on the world.

his intensity made you shy away making you hide your face into the sheets while you weakly slam your hand onto his chest.

he chuckles and he only kisses your cheek sweetly making you even more flustered so you told him to hurry up.

"my my~ so impatient."

he prepares you by spreading your pussy with his mouth and fingers, eating you out like a dessert.

you can't help but arch your body as he coaxes sounds out of you.

your body is only his to control and pleasure and you love every moment of it.

when you came on his tongue and came back up with him licking your wetness from his fingers.

you clench your thighs at the sight and this goes noticed by him.

"ready my dear?"

you nod and he slowly pushes into your wet untainted cavern.

the prince claimed you as his the moment his hard cock penetrated your wet pussy.

the moment he entered you he went feral at the feeling of your pussy enveloping his member.

he takes it slow until the pain subsides and the completely destroys you.

"fuck~ you take me so well my darling~"

he keeps pounding into you that you almost couldn't breathe.

your beloved prince doesn't dare to leave your pussy with the way it's clamping down on his cock.

he keeps fucking you until you orgasm intensely and he spills his hot load into your womb.

you immediately fall asleep after but he pulls out to watch cum leak out of your cunt.

he kisses your forehead whispering you did well and cleaned you up before cuddling you.

after that he was determined to cut off your engagement so he studied hard to the point of neglecting you but he apologized by sending gifts to your way.

with his harsh presence gone you saw how people gravitate to you and you became popular for who you are.

but you also noticed how some of the closest ones to you disappeared

you also met your future fiancé but in the back of your mind was your beloved prince.

time passes, days before your wedding the king suddenly fell dead and the prince was immediately coronated as king.

you watch him look at you within the crowd as he was hailed as the new king of the kingdom.

at the day of your wedding he was invited as an honored guest.

he watched your every movement and you felt his eyes staring holes at you.

he smiled for your sake but on the inside his anger is bubbling up especially the way your fiance now husband kissed you. he clenched his fist and clapped along everyone else, oblivious to the plan he was brewing.

at the reception, everyone was happy until your husband suddenly falls dead infront of you causing chaos.

the feast then became a funeral with the prince consoling you.

the next day, he offered to engage you to him infront of everyone even your parents.

your answer shall determine your fate.

A/n: the ending is kinda meh but I hope you like this!

#yandere x reader #yandere prince #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere prince x reader #yandere smut #yandere!prince #yandere prince smut #royal requests #fem!reader

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ninjaart-fan · 2 months

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Hahaha, the Headcanon that Neige is like a Disney princess, falling in love at first sight with the prefect,feels so fitting to his personality 🤣😝

Part 2~

Bonus:

Though the chaos that's coming when the guys realize what Crowley did...Brace yourself for the storm💚😈

Part 1

Part 3

#cute drawing #fanart #neige leblanche #twst #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted oc #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland neige #twst mc #female yuu #yuusona #twst comic #che'nya #artemiy artemiyevich pinker #twst disney #royal sword academy

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tarjapearce · 9 months

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Lips anon! Dark King Miguel and the gentle princess. The original one except Miguel is the king you dread to marry. Even more so when you meet him. He's a hulking man adorned with obsidian armor laced with gold. Cold piercing red eyes. If you weren't terrified, you would have seen how handsome he was, and that his gaze was filled with intrigue rather than hatred.

He takes your hand in armored claws, and kisses it. Now you blush.

You were to spend a good chunk of time in the palace with him until the day of the wedding. At first it's a nightmare because you are with someone who's slaughtered thousands of men, but he's gentle with you. Not exactly kind. But gentle.

Oh oh, imagine she took a little diary with her. She records her time in his lands, and he finds it while snooping in her room (checking for any weapons and such). He reads it and finds quite a bit about her. He rolls his eyes at the passage of her describing her dream man, but he is very intrigued about her wanting a bunch of children. He can give that to her, he wants many heirs too 🤭

Im such a sucker for these sort of tropes :'D ❤️❤️❤️ (Had to write this twice cause Tumblr erased the draft midway 😭😭)

You fretted in your chambers.

Despite the kingdom's overall economy and exterior political relations were thriving, the feeling of wariness set heavyly on your chest. The Queen and King had forbidden your stay at the most recent council's meeting, and when you demanded an explanation, you were met with nothing but silence and pained looks.

"Your Majesty! Come back here! You can't go inside!"

"They are hiding something from me, Lucille. I know it!"

"But you just can't interrupt!" Your maid and friend had been trying to prevent to get in the throne room. She caught your arm and looked solemn for a moment.

"You... You too?"

She shook her head and sighed, pulling you to a more private spot.

"You must be very quiet, ok?" Lucille guided you through a secret little passageway you didn't know the castle had. Hidden in plain sight that took you exactly where you wanted, a small hole on the wall enough for you too take a glimpse of the room.

Sparse, war table on a side, some guards you couldn't recognize stood next to a chair, partially revealing who sat in it. You could only get a small reveal of his arms. Dark skinned, strong arms clad in obsidian and golden that ended in a claw like gauntlet.

"Your Majesty" Your dad spoke, a slight tremor in his voice, "I think we are rushing into conclusions, ser. You'll see our men-"

"I don't want your men, neither your women. My army is more than enough and if I wished, your kingdom would be wiped out at my command."

You father stressed kn his chair as your mother just watched with keen eyes the display of power.

"We might not be a large kingdom, your majesty-"

"You're right, ser. You're like a tiny and annoying stone that got in my greaves, but I have had enough bloodshed for now"

"T-Then what is it you want, your majesty?"

You frowned at the armored man's attitude as dread crept up your bones. His gauntlet curled on his head, pondering as he slicked his soft, wavy and dark locks back.

"Surprise me, your majesty" He sneered the two last words and you swallowed.

"I will give you the most precious thing I possess, your highness." Your mother spoke confidently as her eyes were casted at the man.

"Being?"

"My daughter. The princess."

Lucille gasped and you quickly covered her mouth. His ears perked at the sound and tensed, but ignored it since he just chuckled.

"I came here in order for you to understand why I need the West passage of your borders open, not to get married." He stood and it was yout time to gasp at the size of him. He looked gigantic, your father had to crane his head up to meet his eyes.

"Think about it, your highness." Your mother pressed as she also stood.

"We can't open the passage due to political differences between our Kingdom and Erunia. It's closing wasn't to meddle in your affairs, but more like a preventive solution in our safety, in case an invasion happened. The least of things we would want is another war against a powerful kingdom we know we have no chance against. "

The obsidian clad man seemed to pay attention to your mother's words

"Sure, our Kingdom is thriving again, and economy and politics seem promising, but you must also understand we have nothing much to offer you when we are still recovering from a war. We still mourn, and we are getting on our feet again."

Your throat tightened upon her mentioning mourn. Your brother, the prince had died in battle.

"And for me to offer you, this kingdom's most precious jewel... I'll leave it to your interpretation."

The man seemed to relax slightly. Political things weren't your strength but, you didn't have to be a genius to know that tension had been rising within the neighbor kingdoms. Yours was a small one that served as a bridge among the others. Without you, the rest would collapse bit by bit.

"I offer you protection, in exchange of your daughter."

Tears welled up in your eyes. They were using you like an object. The deal was sealed, and so was your fate.

------

You had refused to see your parents after that, your mother had explained that it was for the kingdom's best interest.

"But what about me? I know that is selfish to think this way but, this is not what I want."

"It's not about what you want, more like what must be done. Your duty as a princess is to see for the people's interest, my dear. Our wishes matter little when the men think it's funny to play war."

"But mother, how could I possibly marry someone like that? Arachne kingdom is ruthless! And so is it's ruler!"

"We had no choice, my dear. Your brother... Im sure your brother would have chosen to try and wage a war against him to keep our autonomy... There is enough bloodshed as it is for now." She cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead.

"Besides, he is not that bad. He was... civil and wise enough to hear us. And now, thanks to you we have his protection and a new chance of being the kingdom we used to be."

-----------

You were set to depart to Arachne's kingdom within two weeks, and you made sure to enjoy the last bits of your freedom in your home. The wedding was set within 3 months. Or so the dark scroll the mysterious man had sent, said.

And when that day arrived, your carriage departed between sobs, anguish and heartfelt goodbyes. You didn't like the feeling of being seen as a martyr, but it gave your people hope.

----

If you had to describe Arachne's beauty you'd settle for twisted. A contradiction of many types of beauty melded in a single space. The outskirts were full of thorns so thick you thought your carriage would be crushed before even reaching the castle, but the more your caravan approached, the sceneries changed into something less harrowing to a more utopic sort of settling.

Tall towers stood proud in the different cities, but one thing you couldn't help but notice were the elite guards. Mostly clad in a light armor, red and blue, a spider-skull like emblem on their chest. You weren't allowed to bring Lucille with you, a strange petition from this... Miguel King.

Miguel O'Hara. Ruler of Arachne. Commander of an elite force with abilities that surpassed the common guard forces. Many said it was his secret to get him where he was. Despite the rumors about the kingdom being desolated and hunger stricken, witnessing the opposite with your own eyes made your heart a little hopeful.

After all he had sent a small crew of four to guard you during the trip. A blonde girl with a left side of her head shaven, a tall dark young man with braids on each side of his head slicked back with a look that pierced your soul, Another black man with many perforations in his face, with the strangest hairdo you had seen in someone, and their commander. A tall, black slender woman with a red and obsidian armor. None of you talked during the trip. But the pierced face young man and the blonde girl offered you small, almost sympathetic smiles your way.

----

Your arrival at the castle was announced. Your four escorts guided you to the main hall and kneeled before the man you had only caught a minimal glimpse of. Red eyes regarded your form, clad in a emerald green with golden trims dress.

You could notice his eyes widening just slightly as you entering the room. And then he stood. Your breath was caught in your throat and just as your father, you had to crane your head up to meet his eyes. Captivating yet full of unspeakable things. But you were certain, hatred wasn't one of them, rather wonder. He stared at you with mild curiosity.

You revered before him.

"Princess (Name) of Theleria, at your service, my lord." Sweet and soft spoken. A stark contrast of his overall aura. He noticed the small tremor in your hands and chuckled.

"Welcome, Princesa." Despite his imposing and intimidating looks, his royal etiquette shone through.

"Make yourself at home" Or so it did it's best. He returned to his work. He wasn't much for words as you were escorted to your own chambers. You certainly were swooned by the place grandeur and the elite force you had heard so much.

"Your Majesty sends his apologies, he won't be able to meet you during dinner. Would you like to eat on your chambers, or in the dining hall?" The man wore another red and blue armor, you had noticed that only commanders wore a certain type of armor.

"In my room, ser. Thanks."

He nodded with a smile and left. Your room was enormous, easily mistaken for a whole wing. You had dinner in your room.

--------

"Where is she?"

"In her room. She preferred to eat inside."

"Hm." Miguel hummed as he spreaded some map before him. Peter looking at him.

"Want me to arrange a tea meeting with her?"

Miguel's nose scrunched and he shook his head.

"Make it a lunch. I don't like tea."

"I know, coffee guy. You think her parents will keep their word?"

"They better, if not, we'll wipe them."

"Wouldn't that be harrowing for your future bride?"

Miguel arched an eyebrow at him

"Merely political affairs."

"She's pretty"

"Hm and gentle. You know what happens to gentle people."

"They get an arranged marriage with a ruthless belicist of a king." Peter couldn't help but giggle at his mortified expression.

"One more-"

"And I'm out. I know, I know pal. Get some rest. Your eyebags are packing for vacation already" Peter smiled at his annoyed sigh, then left him be.

-----

The lunch never came, as you were stood up, again. You had expected much, after all it was an arranged marriage, of course the desire of knowing eachother just for pretense was only in your imagination. However you had noticed that his gaze lingered on you for more than he actually let on.

You had been sorted through the city, to meet it's people, and so far mostly looked happy? Children ran around a fountain, merchants exposed and sold their goods, art supplies and a small leathery notebook, caught your attention. The extense array of colors had you grinning and marveling at things you had never seen before. Charcoals, complete drawing kits, turpentine, canvas made out of the richest materials.

Arachne's people were kind, welcoming and it just made you wonder how such kind of people had a blood thirsty man for a king? Not that he intentionally waged wars just for fun and giggles. Peter watched you with a lazy smile, occasionally recommending things to try. He and the blonde girl, whose name happened to be Gwen, we're kind enough to answer each of your questions. You didn't dare to ask about Miguel. He seemed too busy to be disturbed and by the way his face was always set in a permanent frown, made you wonder how would things would be in your wedding day.

He was aloof, too buried in his own world of War and battles. You couldn't help but nod with an absentminded expression at Peter saying he won't be for dinner either.

"Of course." That's all you uttered before you returned to the castle and retreated to your room. Your chest constricting tightly.

-----------

"You know, getting any sort of contact with her wouldn't hurt you." Peter spoke as he was polishing his gauntlets.

Miguel remained silent, eyes too focused on the scroll before him.

"How was the trip?"

"She was like a kid in a candy store when we stopped in an art shop."

"Something she liked?" Peter smiled and scrubbed the wax away from the gauntlet

"Paintings and art supplies. She loved the cherry pie and couldn't stop marveling at how dreamlike the city looked"

"Hm. Her kingdom is... small. Nothing much to look around. Anyways, get her what she liked. "

"Beg your pardon?" Peter blinked at him

"Told you to get her what she liked."

"Of course. "

-----

The following days you were either holed up in your bedroom, or in the gardens making small talk with the servants. They seemed good and easygoing people, and it kept you from giving into the loneliness feeling that seemed to loom over your head with each passing day.

Sometimes you'd caught glimpses of him, a small group of elite soldiers tailing behind him in scary synchronization. Your eyes would meet for seconds, but he'd just look away and continue his work.

At this point you knew what the apologetic look on Peter or Gwen meant. He wasn't showing up.

"I'm sorry."

"Have I done something to... upset him this way? To the point of him maybe finding my company repulsive? "

Peter seized you with a frown.

"I know he is a busy man, wars don't wage on their own, I know much. But..." You shook your head and sighed, "Nevermind that. I'm just being pretentious. Bid you a good evening, ser Peter."

You bowed to him and left to your room. You had refused kindly your dinner.

---------

The next day a couple of guards entered your room as you were writing a letter for your parents. They saluted Peter and left.

"Your Majesty." He bowed and guided your to the medium sized wooden box.

"A gift from the king" Your eyes widened in surprise, your cheeks growing a bit warmer.

"Thank you, ser Peter." You smiled and rummaged through its contents, small squeal upon looking at the leathery notebook you had seen before. Peter left and you wasted no time into enjoying your gift.

Papers, watercolors, oil paints, colored waxes, painting brushes, paint remover, it felt like a dream. Your chest felt giddy at the idea that showed up in your mind.

-----

You gave Peter a small box with something you had done.

"Ser Peter?"

"Yes, your majesty?"

"Could you give this to the King?" You handed him a small velvet pouch. A small canvas in it.

"Do you think he would like it?"

"I'm sure he will, your majesty" Peter smiled.

------------

Miguel took the pouch suspiciously, but his eyes widened at the small painting of himself with a small piece of scroll. A fancy and curvy scribblings on it

Thank you for your kindness, my lord.

Your penmanship impeccable, years of princess etiquette and training reflected on it. his lips curved a bit. You had gotten a good angle of him.

---------

He snuck in your room as you had gone to the city with Peter and Gwen again. This time, the man with the pierced face came along.

He didn't expect it to be so you. Paintings you did, dried on the window, drawings of things that caught your interest the most; cherries, birds, nature, and kids. Not that he didn't trust you, he just wanted to see with his own eyes what you had done so far with his gift.

He was glad to find you hadn't wasted it at all. The leathery book however made him to pick it up. It was your own diary. His hands carefully flipped the pages, reading into his contents.

A drawing of him with the caption "king of Arachne and quite aloof." the latter in small letters. He sighed and flipped the pages.

The bakery man is such a gentleman! And his pies so scrumptious.

He chuckled at the little pie drawing you did. He found more descriptions in what seemed to be this type of ideal man for you. He rolled his eyes. But the last lines of the pages caught his interest the most.

After losing my brother, it has come to my thinking. I would love a big family on my own.

You wanted kids. Heirs.

The steps outside alerted him as he tossed the diary back on your bed, and soon you'd enter through the door. The way your eyes looked at him with surprise made his heart to flutter softly. He had met rivals in the battlefield, all giving him a horrifying look, begged him to not come closer. But never he had someone to look at him like you were.

His eyes softened as he walked over you. Lips pressed together, you bowed.

"My lord."

He bowed too, adding more wide at your surprise.

"Enjoying your gift?".

"Very much. Thank you." His thank you gift came into mind.

"Did you... receive mines?"

"Of course."

"Did you like?"

Sweet face looked at him, expectantly. His pulse quickened.

"Si." He mumbled and you looked at him confused for a second.

"I'll take it as a yes?" You smiled.

So so sweet.

He relaxed.

"I'll see you in the dining hall."

"Oh?"

To your surprise he looked at you as he took your hand and kissed the back of your soft palm.

"Don't be late". He left.

#miguel o'hara #t writes✨#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #royal au #arranged marriage #💋 anon #loved this so much ♡#asks and replies

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nkogneatho · 2 months

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royal!au with jjk men where your husband/king is a bastard who cheats on you almost every week visiting his favorite brothel and you cry over it in your balcony. soon you hear two men, gojo and toji chattering, knocking over a vase in the king's study, the burglars arguing over the expensive items to steal, but they are shocked to be caught. trying to make a run because surely a delicate thing like you wouldn't be able to catch up to those hunky men yet you stop them and help them steal as a petty revenge over your husband. you three laugh and giggle while stuffing everything in the sack, and when they leave, they promise to come again, can't leave a pretty thing like you just like that but they know savoring you in comfort would be much better than taking you away and being on the run 24/7. plus the sneaking adds to the fun.

the next night they visit, the men have multiplied. there are now five of them. geto, nanami and sukuna. they ease you in with there sugar laced compliments and teaching you to touch yourself, introducing a new dimension to you. while they please you, your pretty servant, choso has been watching through the ajar door, pumping his aching cock to the scene.

idk this is just a rough idea. do i write this??

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #royal!au #gojo x reader #geto x reader #toji x reader #nanami x reader #sukuna x reader #choso x reader #gojo smut #geto smut #toji smut #nanami smut #sukuna smut #choso smut

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e-nonsense · 13 days

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─── 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩

pairing. prince!jason todd x witch!reader

summary. royal au. bruce doesn’t approve of his son’s relationship with constantine’s pupil/ward , not that jason cares

warnings. pet names: little pet, darling. Tooth rotting fluff i guess?

a/n. fuck writers block. three fits in less than 12 hours? crazy. might make this an au, so feel free to send requests based on this au to find out more

wc. 1.1k not proofread

Jason rolled his eyes as another young woman walked away from him, throughly offended. This had been one of Bruce’s many attempts to find his so a suitable woman— one that wasn’t you.

After Dick had married Princess Koriand'r and left to live with her in her kingdom, Jason had become the sole heir to Bruce’s kingdom. Being the second oldest of his siblings. But before any of that Jason had fallen in love with you.

“Lost young prince?” your voice comes from trees, and Jason glances around frantically. His hunting expedition had gone horribly wrong, a group of trickster illusionists had scared his men and the horses away. Leaving Jason behind.

“Who’s there?” He ask, raising his sword while turning in a circle, his eyes land on you as you step out from the shadows. The sun makes your eyes glow and Jason thinks you’re the most beautiful things he’ll ever see. His guard is lowered, as his eyes scan you up and down, taking in your beauty before moving back to your eyes.

You chuckle and he swears someone had to have casted a love spell on him, he can’t take his eyes of you. “Are you allowed to be this deep in the forest?” You ask and he gulps nervously as you step closer to him, your simple grey dress trailing behind you. “I’m surprised you made it through all the wards I put up around here.”

“Plus the Chimera,” you hum thoughtfully.

“Can you not speak?” You ask, inching closer till you’re in his personal space. “Apologies,” you smile.

“No.. no I can speak.” He whispers, staring down at you before sheathing his sword.

“Oh,” your smile widens. “Well, would you like to join me for tea?” You offer, and Jason knows he should’ve hesitated before nodding but he couldn’t help it. The excitement in your eyes when he agreed would be worth it if you were truly planning on killing him. Either way he let you lead him through the trees to a cottage that past the border of the land of witches and warlocks.

“At least try to entertain the thought, Todd.” Damian scoffed watching as another possible — approved — suitor walked away. “Father has gained many grey hair because of your devotion to the witch.” Truthfully Damian had no problem with you, he thought you were a perfect fit for his brother. Kind, loyal, able to put up with Jason’s moods.

It was just Bruce’s paranoia getting in the way of everyone’s peace. When the king had found out about you, he called in a favour from a warlock to get rid of whatever love spell you placed on his son. Safe to say John Constantine was amused by the request but assured Bruce that there was no spell on Jason and the boy’s infatuation with you was purely Jason.

Jason rolled his eyes at the thought, “or Bruce just needs to get over it.” He retorted, crossing his arms scowling as another pride princess tried to near him. “I’m leaving,” Jason says, looking over at Bruce as he makes his escape.

It didn’t take long for Jason to escape the palace grounds, through he was sure he had ripped his suit jacket, not that he’d see the stupid peace of fabric as he’d already dumped his clothes for a simple white poet shirt and some black riding pants. He rode his stallion to the forest’s entrance, stopping in front of it and trying it’s lead to a flimsy fence.

The prince entered the forest with no care, the protective wards shimmered as he entered, and the path illuminated in the darkness. Something you had done so he wouldn’t lose himself in the woods when he’d run from the palace and seek comfort in your cottage.

He quickly followed the path, passing the border and swiftly making his way to your home. When he arrived Jason knocked on the door softly, waiting for you to answer.

The door is answered a few seconds later, revealing a tall blond. The man groans, rolling his eye, “not you again.” He grumble, a cigarette dangling from his finger as he opens the door properly. “Kid! Your boyfriends here!” John calls out as he swings his coat over his shoulder, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he pats his pockets down looking for a lighter before snorting and lighting it with his fingers.

“Well go on in,” John shrugs, stepping out of the cottage you called home. “Oh, tell her to stop sending her little ravens to check on me, will ya?” John adds before disappearing into the misty pathway.

Jason always wondered how the man never found himself lost, or perhaps John never had somewhere specific he’d ever be going, cant be lost with no destination.

The second Jason stepped into the cottage he was met with the sight of you humming a tune, the same one he heard when the two of you met. Jason smiled, walking closer until he could wrap his arms around you and rest his chin on your shoulder.

“Hi love,” you say as soft spoken as always. His eyes watched as you peeled potatoes before he kissed your cheek gently, “hi sweetheart.” He mumbled in return.

“How was the ball?” You asked, mainly teasing but with some curiosity.

“Missed you,” he huffed like a child, “Bruce is always trying to set me up with princesses. Who wants those snobby little bastards? Not me.” He complained.

“Just because Dick married a princess— who by the way comes from a magical bloodline— he thinks I’m going to do the same. Kori’s nice and all but how is it fair? Just because she’s royalty, its okay that Dick married her.”

You sigh softly, “he’s trying to protect you. People have never trusted those who come from this side of the world, faes, witches, shapeshifters. Sometimes with good reason, not all of us have good intentions.”

“But you do,” Jason retorts. “You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met, and i don’t say want anyone that isn’t you…. Is there a way that i could stay here with you?” He asks and you shake your head.

“Not without your father starting a war, we don't want a repeat of 1843.”

Jason groans but understands, Bruce would assume the worst if Jason just disappeared again, especially now that he was with you. He’d assume you’ve kidnapped him or some bullshit to feed his ideals.

“Can i stay for the night then?” He murmurs softy, his nose nudhung your cheek. “I just wanna love you before going back.”

You find your resolve melting away when you meet his eyes, blue and green. “One night, then home.” You nod.

“You are home,” he mumbles in response but doesn’t press further, instead the rest of the night is filled with laughter as you teach him a new recipe he’ll be sure to share with Alfred.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd #jason todd drabble #jason todd oneshot #royal au #witch!reader #jason todd x witch!reader #enzo writes [📝]

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junqkook · 1 month

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— ROTTENFOLK: AFTERMATH (m.)

PAIRING. jungkook/reader, taehyung/reader GENRE. faerie au, angst, smut WORDS. 10,234 RATING. explicit

SYNOPSIS. six years after escaping from the faerie realm, you’ve done everything to hide yourself and your son from the high king. but you should have known he would never let you go so easily.

CONTENTS. boyfriend taehyung, faerie king jungkook, human reader, mother reader, father jungkook, kidnapping, manipulation, slight dubcon, riding, grinding, creampie, unprotected sex (stay safe!), rough sex, hair pulling, biting/marking, possessiveness, accidental exhibitionism/voyeurism, infidelity, multiple orgasms, hinted f/f, pregnancy, multiple smut scenes (!), overstimulation, fingering, dom jungkook.

NOTES. this is a sequel to rottenfolk. i highly suggest reading rottenfolk before reading this one. Y’ALL GOT ME MISSING THIS WORLD, so i gave in to my own desires and wrote this. i’ll warn you all now: this is not a happy story.

EXTRA NOTES. UNRWA; Care for Gaza; Direct Aid For Gaza. please consider donating to and/or sharing these organizations.

— rottenfolk. rottenfolk: aftermath.

Taehyung’s arms wrapped around you from behind and you giggled, leaning back into his chest. The smell of breakfast filled the kitchen and your boyfriend’s warm lips pressed chaste kisses against your neck.

“Missed you this morning,” he murmured.

You hummed and closed your eyes, losing yourself in the feeling of him. “I woke up early and decided to treat my lovely boys to breakfast today.”

Taehyung chuckled and pulled his mouth away from your neck, resting his cheek against yours instead. “You know what Soobin told me last night?”

“What’d he tell you?”

“He concocted such an imaginative story,” your boyfriend of three years started, a lightness to his voice that comforted you. “Said he saw magical creatures in the forest by the park that knew his name—”

Your eyes shot open and you tensed in Taehyung’s arms. “What?”

He continued without noticing your reaction. “Yeah, he was telling me all about these—actually kind of grotesque now that I think about it—”

You whirled around in his arms and faced him. “When did he tell you this exactly? Where?”

Taehyung cupped your face and smiled at you. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Don’t worry, it’s just a story, he was probably watching YouTube or something and got the ideas—”

“Tae,” you pressed. “I’m serious. Please answer me.”

He held up his hands in defense and nodded. “Okay, okay. He told me while we were walking home from the park yesterday. He was really excited about it and said the fairies told him they’d see him again. It’s nothing bad, sweetheart. He’s just a five year old with an active imagination.”

You cursed under your breath. “Why didn’t you tell me last night?”

Taehyung shrugged and crossed his arms. “I don’t know, it didn’t seem like pressing information to share. And you were dead tired when you came home, so it must have slipped my mind.” As he watched you flutter around the kitchen nervously, he continued. “Can you tell me what’s going on with you right now?”

You sighed and faced your boyfriend. “Remember when I told you about Soobin’s father?”

Taehyung pursed his lips. “Yeah. You said he’s dangerous.”

“He is,” you said. “I didn’t think he’d find me, or even be interested in it, but—he doesn’t know about Soobin. And I planned to keep it that way.”

“Okay,” Taehyung replied slowly. “So what’s changed?”

“Everything,” you whimpered. “If Soobin said that to you, it means his father knows about him. It’s… his people,” you said carefully. “They’re the only ones who would tell Soobin that they’re magical creatures and—if they know about my son, it’s only a matter of time before he knows, too.”

Taehyung rubbed his temples, making sure to keep his voice low. “So, what do we do now?”

Before you could answer, the sound of padding footsteps through the house interrupted your conversation. “Mama, good morning!” Soobin’s sleepy voice called out. He appeared from behind Taehyung, rubbing his tired eyes.

Scooping him up into your arms, you pressed kisses to his chubby cheek. He murmured half-heartedly and buried his little face into your neck. The tips of his growing horns pressed into your skin lightly. You smoothed down his dark hair and gave Taehyung a pleading look.

“Morning, little man,” your boyfriend said, patting your son on the back. “You ready for breakfast?”

Soobin sat up in your arms, turning his small body to look at his surrogate father, who had been in majority of his life. “Yes,” he mumbled, squirming until you set him down so he could grasp at Taehyung’s large hand. “Good morning.”

You watched Taehyung lead him over to the table, helping him scoot his chair closer to the table once he was seated. Hurrying, you brought over your boys’ plates and then went back for yours. Soobin and Taehyung waited for you to be seated to start eating.

“S’good, Mama,” Soobin said around his food.

You smiled. “Thank you, Binnie,” you replied. You almost had no appetite, the thoughts of Jungkook swirling in your head. You hated that your chest still ached, even with the years distancing you.

The day passed achingly slowly, every minute and every second feeling like an eternity; every sound and every shadow brought with it a wave of anxiety that you hadn’t felt in a long time. You felt bad for not allowing Soobin to go with Taehyung to the store, ignoring his pouting with a heavy heart.

Finally, when it was time for bed, you tucked Soobin in with a kiss to his forehead. He looked up at you with his eyes that were so like his father’s, pupils slitted like a cat’s, that you couldn’t help the wave of fear that shot through you. But you knew Soobin wasn’t like Jungkook, no matter how much he grew to resemble him in his looks with every day.

“Binnie,” you whispered, sitting at the edge of his bed while your hand stroked the strands of his dark hair. “I love you.”

He gave you a smile that was so soft, you hated yourself for seeing any part of Jungkook in him. “I love you more, Mama.” You chuckled, your worry easing a tiny bit. “I don’t know why you were sad today, but tomorrow will be better!”

You blinked back the tears that you could feel prickling in your eyes. “I know it will be,” you answered him, leaning down to press another kiss to his forehead. “Sweet dreams, baby.”

As you stood, you noticed Taehyung smiling at the scene from the doorway. “Night, little prince,” he said to your son. The word jabbed at your ribs and you felt like you couldn’t breathe for a moment.

“That’s a new nickname,” you managed to get out between your nerves.

Soobin giggled from his bed. “The magical faeries called me that!” he said excitedly. “Wouldn’t it be so cool if I really was a prince, Mama?”

You turned to give him a strained smile. “It would be so cool, Soobin.”

“So cool,” he repeated, his voice trailing off as his eyes shut. “G’night, Tae.”

When you shut the door of his bedroom, you nearly collapsed—if it hadn’t been for Taehyung’s arms wrapping around your waist, you would have dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.

“What’s wrong?” Taehyung whispered in panic as he held you up. You tried not to cry into his chest, finding comfort in his arms for a few agonizing seconds before you stood completely.

“Nothing, just—I’m fine,” you lied. “We should go to bed.” Taehyung’s lips pursed, not believing you for once second. “Please,” you whimpered.

With a sigh, Taehyung nodded. “Okay, okay. Let’s go to bed.”

Once in your own room, Taehyung’s warm body against yours, you rolled over until you were on top of him. He gazed up at you with hooded eyes, his hands finding purchase on your hips.

“I thought you were tired,” he murmured.

“How can I go to sleep when my man is laying there, looking that good?” you teased, wiggling yourself until you were slowly grinding against his clothed cock. He groaned and you could feel him hardening underneath you. With a shudder, you started grinding yourself against him harder, the friction delicious against your clit.

Taehyung’s hands slipped under your shirt and dragged it off your torso, your hips never stopping their movements against him. He sat up in the bed, his hips rocking up, and his mouth started sucking one of your nipples harshly. You pushed yourself off his lap for a few seconds to rapidly tug your pajama pants and underwear off, pulling Taehyung’s sweats and boxers halfway down his thighs as well. His cock was hard and red and you wrapped your hand around the length of it, pumping it quickly.

“You’re so hot, you know that?” he groaned against your breast, flicking and twisting your other nipple with his fingers. You tried to keep your voice down as you mewled, pushing yourself flush against his body and guiding the head of his cock to your slit. You rubbed it against your slit a few times, the head bumping into your clit with every drag, before you started to lower yourself onto it.

“You’re so big,” you panted into his ear, the burn of his cock stretching your walls making you clench tightly.

“No matter how many times I fuck you, this pussy is always so tight for me,” he grunted, grabbing for your hips and removing his mouth from your chest. His fingers dug into your bare skin and you sank down completely, shivering and clenching his cock inside of you.

Taehyung’s fingers found your clit easily after years of learning your body and he started to rub as you ground your hips into his. Soon, he was thrusting up into you roughly, his fingers on your hips helping you move up and down to keep pace with him. You gripped his hair and tugged his mouth to yours, kissing him deeply, the slap of your skin against his filling the room along with your little noises.

You orgasmed quickly, your wound up body giving way to pleasure easily. As your walls spasmed around his snapping hips, Taehyung cursed under his breath and held you down on his cock as it twitched, spurts of hot come filling you up. He didn’t stop grinding you against him while he rode out his own release, his fingers sliding down to play with your clit.

“Taehyung,” you whined, “I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” he mumbled against your shoulder, his eyes shut while he savored the feeling.

You couldn’t help your bucking hips, chasing the feeling of his fingers pressed against your clit. You blinked your bleary eyes open and glanced toward the window, meeting cat-like eyes that startled you into a second orgasm while the head of Taehyung’s spilling cock continued to rub against your g-spot.

You had to bite down on your bottom lip to stop the shout that tried to tear itself out of your throat—a mix of fear and pleasure.

Rocking your hips against Taehyung’s softening cock inside of you, you wrapped your arms around him and kept his head buried in your chest as he pressed kisses to the tops of your breasts. Your eyes never left the ones staring back at you.

Jungkook watched you with heat in his gaze, even though the rest of his face seemed as through he were bored and uninterested.

The shockwaves ran through your body, igniting every nerve in your limbs while your boyfriend’s cock slipped out of you, his come following. Your breaths started to quicken when Jungkook’s form left your window, and for a second you thought you might have imagined it. For a second, you let yourself breathe.

Then you realized he had moved toward Soobin’s window, on the other side of the hallway.

With a small yelp, your throat closed up and you couldn’t breathe. Taehyung lifted his head, startled at your sudden sound, and you ripped yourself away from him, not even bothering to clean the mess dripping between your thighs as you hurriedly dressed yourself, moving at a speed you had never moved before.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” Taehyung asked, tucking himself back into his pajamas and shifting off the bed.

You didn’t have time to answer him, messily dressed now. Rushing to the bedroom door, you yanked it open and sprinted to your son’s bedroom, heart pounding and blood rushing through your ears.

You threw open Soobin’s door and for a second, time seemed to stop.

The window was open and Soobin was in front of it, Jungkook leaning against the windowsill from outside. Your son turned to look at you, surprise etched into his features, and Jungkook’s eyes found yours for a second time that night. Beside each other, the two looked so alike that you wondered how you had deluded yourself into believing they would never know.

“Sweetmeat,” Jungkook’s voice drawled, your body shuddering on instinct alone. You couldn’t stop shaking, rooted to the spot as his hand settled on top of Soobin’s head. “It’s been a while, I see.”

“Mama!” Soobin cried out, a smile pulling his lips up. “You know faeries? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Jungkook,” you choked out, taking a step into the room as Taehyung’s footsteps sounded behind you. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, every atom in your body completely focused on the father of your child. “Get away from him.”

The faerie king hummed and he moved his hand down to Soobin’s shoulder. “I will not.” Those eyes that were the same as Soobin’s darted down to the young boy before darting up to yours again. “All these years, you’ve kept him a secret from me.”

Taehyung was behind you now, his voice shouting something at Jungkook, but all you could hear was the pounding of your heart and the sweet voice that came from the faerie. You were already inside the bedroom, Taehyung right outside the doorway behind you.

“Close the door, ____,” Jungkook said softly.

Your body moved on its own, shutting the door before Taehyung could force his way in.

“Now lock it.”

You locked it.

Taehyung’s panicked voice and slamming hands against the door barely registered in your head as you turned to face Jungkook.

“Jungkook, please,” you whispered, tears pricking at your eyes. You took a few steps forward, stopping only when you saw his fingers tighten around Soobin’s shoulder. “Please. He’s my son—”

“And mine,” he interrupted harshly. Jungkook’s eyes narrowed when your breath hitched, Soobin’s wide and curious eyes turning toward him once again.

“You’re my dad?” he asked quietly.

Jungkook’s eyes seemed to soften for a moment. You thought it must be a trick of the moonlight. “I am,” he told Soobin. “And I’ve come to bring you to your real home, where you belong.”

“Mama can come, too, right?” he asked, glancing at you before looking at his father.

“Of course,” he said easily. “She is mine, after all, until she draws her last breath and an eternity after.”

He tilted his head and then beckoned you over. You dropped to your knees, wrapping your arms around Soobin and yanking him away from the High King.

“Please, Jungkook,” you whimpered. “Please, leave us here. Leave us alone.”

Jungkook’s eyes hardened and his hand shot out like a bolt of lightning, fingers wrapping around the collar of your shirt and dragging you toward the window roughly. Soobin’s small hands dug into your shirt and you heard him make a distressed noise where you had tucked him close.

“Do you forget yourself, human?” he growled, voice dangerously low. You could feel the anger simmering under the surface, unlike anything you had seen from him years ago—he had always been indifferent to you, never angry. You supposed it was only natural after finding out you had kept Soobin a secret, no matter how unnatural Jungkook was. “Answer me.”

“No,” you said shakily. “I am yours.”

“You will be returning with me to the Faerie Realm,” he snarled. “If only because my son has wished for it. You belong to me, sweetmeat. You are mine to do with as I please.”

“Yes,” you replied quietly, never looking away from his slitted eyes. “I am yours to do with as you please, my king.”

“Now get up and come.”

You did as he asked, rising to your feet and releasing Soobin from your grip, though he kept his hold of your shirt as he looked between the two of you. You couldn’t stop your body from removing his hands from you, even as your hands shook and your breath caught when he begged you not to. Your fingers didn’t even twitch when Jungkook lifted him out of the window and kept him on his hip. You followed immediately after, surprised when Jungkook grabbed a hold of your upper arm and maneuvered you on the branches so that you didn’t fall over as the three of you descended to the grass.

Jungkook kept a tight hold on Soobin’s hand as he led you two away from your home. He didn’t need to keep any kind of grip on you—he knew you would follow him, unable to refute his orders, especially not when he was leading your child away with him.

You didn’t look back at the house once.

The sounds and smells of the Faerie realm was something you hadn't realized you had missed so much. Nostalgia for the years you had spent among these fair folk blossomed in your chest, flowering through your skin until you could feel the tingle in your fingertips.

The faeries through the forest watched the three of you with wonderous eyes, all colors and shapes, the whispers like the sound of bees buzzing through the night air. When you looked at your son, his eyes were taking in everything around him with delight and curiosity.

Soon enough, you were walking up toward the palace that you had known so well before, familiarity settling in your bones as you took the trek.

"Soobin," Jungkook said softly—you didn't think that the High King could ever sound so soft while speaking. "Do you want to see your room?"

"Jungkook," you called, taking a few steps toward them so that you were right behind your husband and the faerie king.

His cat-like eyes cut to you, not nearly as soft as they were when looking at your son, and you hesitated to reach out to touch him. Your brain was screaming at you that any move you made would be a terrible idea.

"You'll wait your turn, sweetmeat," he said to you with a smile that could carve through flesh. "Though I thought you would remember where your place is here."

"Of course," you replied quickly, simmering down so as to not scare Soobin with your own fear.

"Mama," your son said excitedly, his small hand still gripping Jungkook's. "This place is so cool! Why didn't you tell me you knew faeries?" he questioned.

Looking at him now, your heart ached for the way you, too, had once looked on in amazement and only excitement in this realm. What would this place, with its cunning smiles and sweet dangers, do to him and his precious, innocent smile?

"I'm sorry, baby," you cooed, dropping to your knees on the ground in front of you and cupping his face in your hands. You brushed his dark hair back, fingers trying not to bump onto his little horns—they had always been sensitive to the touch. "The faeries have just been so busy, I haven't seen them in so long and forgot to tell you about them."

"Can I play with them?" he asked.

"No—"

"Of course—"

You and Jungkook cut yourselves off, meeting eyes as Soobin looked between the two of you. You could almost see the thoughts swimming around in Jungkook's head, as if deciding what to say. You were too afraid to make a sound, furrowing your brows a bit and hoping that he would have some sense to how your child had been raised so far.

"Why don't your mother and I discuss that and let you know tomorrow, okay?" he eventually said, smiling sweetly at your son—his son. Soobin nodded ecstatically, throwing his arms around you for a tight hug. You squeezed him close to you, kissing the top of his head. "Now say goodnight and I'll show you to your room."

"Goodnight, Mama!" Soobin exclaimed, letting go of you quickly and slipping his tiny hand back into his father's. How were you going to explain everything to him?

Jungkook paused to look back at you as you were getting up from your knees. "I trust that you remember where your chambers are?" he inquired, a small smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

Your cheeks flushed with heat and you willed them to go back to their normal color, not wanting to look embarrassed in front of your son. "Yes," you eventually choked out, ignoring the quiet chuckle that Jungkook let out, leading your son down the hall and towards whatever room he had assigned for him.

Sighing, you turned to the other side of the hall, ashamed that your feet did remember the way to Jungkook's chambers, where you always slept, ready to embrace him into you night after night. And you hated that your groin tingled at the memories, the release from earlier still sticky against your skin, even as it dried.

"Sweetmeat," Jungkook cooed as he came into his chambers, a devilish smile playing at his lips.

Your cheeks flushed as you sat on the bed, ashamed at your own body for reacting to his voice like this. The memories flooded your brain, every muscle in your body thrumming as you expected his touch.

"Well," he said, now standing in front of you and his hips sliding between your knees. "I see you have become forgetful in your time away," he murmured, his fingertips brushing your cheek and then tucking your hair behind your ear. "Usually you would await me with nothing on that smooth skin of yours."

You cleared your throat awkwardly as you looked up at him, your legs automatically spreading wider to make room for him to stand between them. You bit your bottom lip and couldn't stop yourself from leaning into his palm, his skin warm and so familiar to you.

"I can't," you whispered, shutting your eyes so you wouldn't see the look on his face.

To your surprise, he leaned down so that his nose brushed yours. Against your better judgement, you let your eyes flutter open and you met his slitted eyes, soft as they looked at you. There was no rage or wrath.

"Why can't you, sweetmeat?" he whispered back, every word making his lips brush against yours lightly with how close he was. You took in a shaky breath, leaning back on your hands to try to put distance between the two of you. "Don't you want me to have you?"

"Yes," you replied on instinct, screwing your eyes shut as his body pressed against yours. "But Taehyung—"

Jungkook's thumb pressed against your bottom lip, stopping you. Your eyes opened again, watching how his were trained on your mouth. "No need to worry about that human," he told you. "You were always mine first." Before you could object, he leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips—you never thought you would receive a simple peck from the High King, whose touch had always been so rough and ragged on you.

"I—" You breathed against his mouth, leaning in for more of his kisses. He stayed just out of reach and it felt like a punishment. "I want you," you whimpered, letting one of your hands come up to cup his cheek. You met his eyes shyly, a spark traveling through your abdomen at the dark way he looked at you, like he wished to devour you. "I want you," you repeated.

"You'll never be anyone else's," he said to you as he crawled over your body, gently pushing you back onto the lush mattress. Your heart was pounding in your chest as he tugged your baggy shirt over your torso, revealing your bare breasts to his gaze. "I simply allowed that mortal to loan you," he growled, leaning down to nip at your hard nipple.

"Yes," you sighed, your fingers digging into his dark hair. "I'm only yours." His mouth enveloped the tip of your breast, biting down around the areola and making you hiss from a mix of pain and pleasure. "I belong to you."

Jungkook pulled your sweats down your legs, lifting his head from your chest for only long enough to remove them completely and undress himself as well. Your eyes marveled at his body, not realizing how much you'd missed looking at it. Of course, you couldn't help but let your eyes trail down to his cock, which was already hard and you could feel the tingling between your legs.

His smirk widened as he grabbed your thighs, yanking you towards him until the underside of his cock was pressing against you. A quiet whimper fell from your lips.

"You don't need to be loosened, do you?" he asked sweetly, though you could hear the tinge of mocking in his tone. You'd heard it so often, right here on this very bed, that you could detect anything in Jungkook's voice.

Your cheeks were hot. "No," you whispered, shaking your head. "But I should clean fir—"

"No," he replied, rocking his hips toward you playfully. "I'll fuck you right now."

You wanted to protest, still dripping with Taehyung's cum. A pang of guilt throbbed in your chest, but the ache of desire drowned it out quickly. Your breath caught in your throat as he slowly pushed the length of his cock inside of you, a groan leaving his lips when he bottomed out.

"How are you still this tight?" he asked you, almost incredulous. "Just fucked and still this tight around my cock?"

Clenching around him, your eyes rolled back as he pulled out only a few centimeters before pushing back inside slowly. "I can't help it," you whined, spreading your thighs further apart until your knees were about to touch the silky bedcovers. "You make me this way."

When you met Jungkook's eyes, they were dark and hungry. "You're so wet," he told you, his fingers finding the flesh of your hips and digging into your skin. "I'm going to replace all this cum inside of you with my own."

Before you had a chance to say anything, or even start to feel a shred of shame, he pulled out almost all the way and then shoved himself inside of you, starting a brutal and quick pace. The bed was already shaking with the force of his movements, and your hand darted to your mouth for something to bite down onto.

As he thrusted into you, the lewd sounds echoing in the bedchamber and cum dripping past his cock and down your skin onto the bed, all your thoughts melted away. You had missed him. You'd missed everything about him—your body had missed him. Logically, you knew that this was wrong, that you had finally managed to find peace with the family you had created—but now—

"Jungkook," you moaned, releasing your hand from the bite of your teeth, and slid it onto his shoulder. "I need you—"

"Of course you do, sweetmeat," he cooed, though you could feel the shiver that went through his body. "You belong to me."

You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him even closer to your body. One of his hands moved up from your hip, his palm dragging lightly against your bare skin, cupping your breast and squeezing it in his hands. You whimpered and he pinched your nipple between his fingers, almost too painfully, but you liked it—maybe a little too much.

When his hand moved higher up your body to your neck, squeezing it gently while he shoved himself deeper and deeper into you with every thrust of his hips, you couldn't help the wanton moan that ripped its way out of your throat. Your legs tightened around him, trying to hold him inside of you forever while you twitched and squirmed, your orgasm building quickly and intensely.

"That's it, sweet thing," he purred, pushing his cock in as deep as it would go, using his other hand to push your thigh up so he could shove it in further while you came, clenching around him sporadically. "Did your human make you feel this good?"

"No," you croaked, seeing stars. "No one has ever made me feel this good." And you weren't lying, even though the guilt had started to eat its way through the pleasure in your abdomen.

Jungkook hummed and then started up his agonizing pace once more, making your body squirm and your toes curl.

"I can't," you begged, hands lowering to the bedsheets and clawing them in your fingers. "It hurts—"

"You can," he replied smoothly, and the head of his cock brushed the sensitive spot inside of you. You clenched hard, a cry falling from your mouth. "You will, human."

He pulled his cock out of you and when you looked down, it was wet with a mix of your slick and the cum that had still been inside of you. You didn't have the energy to feel embarrassed, though your cheeks did flush a little hotter than before. In one fluid movement, Jungkook turned you onto your stomach, his hands finding purchase on your hips and pulling them up so that your ass was in the air and your face was pressed against the bed.

You felt the slide of his cock back into you, eyes rolling back and fingers gripping the sheets. As it filled you, the squelch of it entering you again filling the room, Jungkook fisted your hair in his hand and pulled your head up.

Your body was still reeling from your orgasm—the second one that night—so you could do nothing but let him hold you in place there, a little moan coming out of your throat with every harsh thrust.

"That's a good girl," he groaned, his cock twitching inside of you while his thrusts started to slow down. "You always did take my cock so well for a human."

"Yes," you whispered, feeling a little bit of your spit on the corner of your lip. "It's all for you."

Jungkook moaned, shoving your head back down onto the bed, fingers still tightly gripping your hair. The slight pain from his hold mixed well with the pleasure of him rubbing against that spot inside of you over and over until you could barely take it.

"It's like you were molded for me," he said roughly, his body towering over yours as he tried to bury himself inside of you as far as he could go.

"I was," you said in a broken whimper, and you felt the twitch of his cock, followed by a spurt of his release, hot inside of you and filling you completely.

He rolled his hips a few times, and while still inside of you, his hand released your hair and curled around your torso, fingers finding your clit immediately. Your eyes widened for a second, the feeling of his fingers moving against your clit mixing between pleasure and pain. While his seed slipped past his cock and down your thighs, the feelings all crashed into you at once—guilt, pleasure, pain, shame, tingling—and you couldn't help but buck your hips against his hand and orgasm a second time.

When you were done, seeing stars behind your eyelids, he finally pulled out of you, letting his seed spill out of you and allowing your body to fall completely against the cool bed.

Turning to face him as he laid next to you, you couldn't even muster up a smile. Even with sweat on his face, his dark hair clinging to his skin, he still looked beautiful and ethereal.

Jungkook's eyes met yours and you couldn't stop your panting, your body completely spent—you couldn't even bring yourself to care about the mix of your slick and his seed still dripping out of you and onto the bed.

"Are you spent, sweetmeat?" he asked, a smirk starting to play at his lips.

You sighed and nodded, eyes still focused on his. "Yes," you replied slowly. "It's been... A long time," you settled on, not sure how to navigate your absence, even if he had originally allowed it.

"Well," he said gleefully. "You will get used to it again, soon."

It was then that you realized you couldn't see his other hand. When you let your eyes follow his arm down to his hand, you realized it was stroking his still hard cock, your slick and his come mixing all over it. Your cheeks flushed and your eyes widened—though, you could already feel the heat of desire in your belly and the tingling between your thighs as you clenched and unclenched around nothing.

"We are going to have so much fun, sweetmeat," Jungkook snickered, rolling over towards you to lick into your mouth.

The music and feasting was something you had missed, watching all the faeries let loose and be themselves, as grotesque as that might look to your human eyes. Jungkook had seated you at the table, taking Soobin away to introduce him to others and show him around a bit.

You were dressed in a gown made of silk, the neckline dipping almost halfway down your chest, but still covering your breasts from view—Jungkook could be possessive when he wished.

The faeries had given you looks, some with curiosity and some with suspicion—others even with pity, if you weren't completely delusional. Your eyes stayed trained on your son, who was learning how to play a game from the other young faeries around him.

"He belongs here," Jungkook whispered in your ear, spooking you for a moment. You looked up at him as he grinned at Soobin, watching him still as he took his seat beside you at the table, his hand patting your thigh before resting on the arm of his chair.

"I didn't think he'd fit in so well," you admitted, unable to stop the smile on your lips and the softness in your voice when Soobin laughed, holding hands with a young faerie who was dripping sap from their limbs.

Jungkook hummed and lightly tapped your chin with his fingers, turning your face to look at him. "Eat," he said flatly. "You belong here, too."

You swallowed nervously. Your eyes darted down to your plate, full of deliciously smelling food, the aroma calling to you. "Jungkook," you whispered, looking back at him.

His fingertips were so soft against your skin that their presence there could've been a hallucination—but you could feel a razor sharp tingle where they touched you, a subtle threat in the gentleness.

"Jungkook, when will we be able to go home?" you asked quietly,

Though his face hadn't changed, you could feel the tension settling in between your bodies. He hummed and let his fingers drag down from your chin to your neck, and then further down to your collarbones. You shivered, letting your eyes flutter shut while they continued their way down between your neckline, every touch of his igniting the nerves in your body.

His hand shot up and gripped your throat, startling your eyes into opening. He didn't tighten his hold, simply keeping a slight pressure on your neck. Jungkook's expression was wicked—and cruel.

"This is your home," he cooed, though nothing about his tone was soft. He leaned in closer, bringing you closer in as well with his hand around your throat. Your breath caught and he brushed his nose against yours lightly, eyes never wavering from yours. "I thought I did well to remind you of that earlier, sweetmeat."

Heat flooded your cheeks, traveling down your chest and between your thighs. You clasped them together instinctively and shuddered when you saw Jungkook's gaze glance down towards your legs.

"Should I remind you here, sweetmeat?" he continued, snickering at the way you were going pliant in his grasp. "Shall I show my court who you belong to?"

You wanted to say yes—everything in your body was craving him already, wanting every bit of him all over you. And to have every faerie in his court watch as he took you—over and over again—you could barely resist the temptation.

But you couldn't give in right now.

"I want you to," you whimpered, shutting your eyes again as he leaned in closer, licking your lips lewdly. He bit your bottom lip and you gasped, allowing him to press closer, kissing you lazily. His hands released your throat and moved back to the nape of your neck, holding you in place while he kissed you.

"Ew!" a voice exclaimed, a voice that was too familiar—and the entire reason you were planning to refuse his tempting offer.

You tore yourself away from Jungkook, who looked puzzled. "Binnie!" you breathed, shifting in your seat. "What's up, honey?"

Jungkook's hand stayed firmly in its place at the back of your neck, hot and heavy.

"Mama, what are you doing?" your son asked, crinkling his nose up in disgust.

"Your dad and I, we just—we just missed each other, that's all," you explained quickly. "Sometimes adults do that when they really love each other!"

Soobin frowned, tilting his head to the side. Before he could ask anymore questions, Jungkook smiled down at him. "Why don't you go to bed, Soobin?" he said, though you could see even your son, at such a young age, instinctively knew to heed his king's command.

An older faerie, one whose hair looked like sea moss trailing all the way down to its feet, arrived quickly and started to pull Soobin and the other young faerie with him away from the table.

"Wait!" he cried out, rushing over to your side.

You quickly enveloped him in your arms, raising him up to your lap. "What's wrong?" you asked, cupping his cheeks in your palms.

"You didn't give me a goodnight kiss," he pouted, wrapping his small arms around you for a hug.

"Aw, my baby Binnie," you cooed, kissing the top of his head. "Mama loves you so much." He looked up at you, his pouting lips still the same, and you kissed his cheek three times.

"I love you, too, Mama," he replied, leaning up to give your cheek a kiss as well. He looked over to Jungkook. "Can I give Dad a kiss, too?"

You hesitated, looking over at the High King, whose face was unreadable. Then, he opened his arms up in a welcoming gesture—Soobin hurriedly climbed down from your lap and rushed to his father, who gave him a peck on the cheek and ruffled his matching dark hair.

Once your son was bounding away, happily chatting with the faeries surrounding him, you sighed and turned to look at the High King, who you found already watching you.

"This is his home," Jungkook repeated harshly. You pursed your lips, hating yourself for the butterflies in your stomach when you knew Taehyung was waiting for you in the human realm. "Soobin belongs here." You didn't want to admit it, though you knew both of you knew perfectly well that he did fit in here—especially once his horns fully grew in atop his head. "Our other children will belong here, too."

Your cheeks flushed and your eyes widened, taken aback at his words. His face was unreadable, even after spending so much of your time with him. "Other children?" you gasped.

"Yes," he said easily, turning away from you and looking over the dancing and partying faeries. "I need many heirs."

A faerie took his attention before you could formulate any words in response to his statement, but you couldn't stop the pounding of your heart in your chest and the quick soar of elation that filled your head with dangerous thoughts—thoughts of the two of you together for the eternity you had promised to him, of you as his bride, of belonging to this world eternally.

You didn't see Jungkook for the rest of the night, but that didn't stop your imagination from running wild with the possibilities of your future together.

The nights passed in a blur of music, little adventures with Soobin, and reliving your memories from years ago. You couldn't help but lose yourself in this world, fully immersed in the customs and life of Faerie—especially now that you were anticipating your new familial life with Jungkook, as he'd implied.

The door shut behind him quickly and you were already slipping the straps of your dress off of your shoulders, the glitter from the fabric sticking to your skin. It fell to the ground softly and Jungkook's hands were already running down your arms, his body right behind yours.

You turned your face sideways to glance back at him, heat already pooling in your lower abdomen at his touch.

"Lie to me, sweetmeat," he whispered, dropping his head to press kisses to your shoulder, nipping at the flesh with his teeth.

You shuddered as his clothed body pressed into your bare one from behind, the tickle of the fabric causing goosebumps to raise on your skin.

"I want to go home," you murmured, your body molding against his as he walked you forward, bending you over onto the mattress. He undid his pants, letting them fall to the ground, and slid his hard cock against your ass.

You whined and pushed back against him, not even embarrassed at how slick you already were. You were already clenching around nothing in anticipation.

"How badly do you want me?" he asked, keeping one palm spread on your back to hold you down. His foot kicked your legs further apart to open you up completely to him. "Do you crave me?"

You moaned as the head of his cock pushed into your folds lightly but pulled away before giving you what you wanted. "Yes," you said. "I've never stopped wanting you."

Jungkook finally—finally—pushed his cock into you, sliding all the way in easily. He said nothing for a while, simply groaning and thrusting in and out of you, filling the room with the lewd sounds of skin against skin. You were gripping fistfuls of the sheets, even biting down on them when his pace became unforgiving.

"How often did you picture me when that human was buried inside of you?" he asked, and you could hear the large grin in his voice. You didn't answer, heat flooding into your cheeks. "Were you hoping it was my cock inside of you, filling you with my seed?" You moaned in response, clenching tight around him as he picked up his pace even faster, almost slamming his cock into you over and over. "Answer me," he growled, his fingers finding your hair and pulling your head up from where it was flush against the bed.

"Yes," you admitted, your voice shaking. "I wanted you to be the one fucking me—"

Jungkook's door opened and you flinched, though his grip on you didn't loosen and his movements only slowed, never stopping.

A woman came into view, though your eyesight was blurred and you had to focus them to see what she looked like.

"Ah, Wife," Jungkook purred, slowly pushing his cock into you so you could feel every centimeter.

"Husband," she replied easily, barely glancing at you.

You clenched around him from your shock, your little breathy sounds fading into the background. You couldn't stop your body from pushing back into him, wanton for him.

"What is it?" he asked, his hips still pounding into you from behind. You were staring at the woman, unable to take your eyes off of her as you took in her beauty. Her hair was a light blue, the very tips turning white and ending near her hips. There was a small golden crown wrapped around head, weaving through her hair like vines. Her ears were long and pointed—longer than Jungkook's ears.

"I see you returned your pet," she said instead, blankly looking over your form. You felt like you were being shown at an auction, but you couldn't muster up any feelings of shame, still used to the way the High King would keep you exposed to anyone who opened his door—even his apparent wife.

"I have," he returned gleefully, snickering. His cock slipped out of you with a lewd sound and his hands gripped your body, forcefully turning you over from your bent position so that you were laying flat on your back on the bed. You let out a small sound at the shift, but his cock was already burying itself inside of you again, brushing against your g-spot and making you moan loudly instead. "Isn't she exquisite?"

"She's very loud," his wife said plainly. "I can see the appeal."

Jungkook rocked his hips into you at a slow pace, one of his hands moving up to your breast and kneading it, pinching your nipple hard as you cried out, clenching and unclenching repeatedly.

"They require you in the meeting hall tomorrow morning," his wife continued. Jungkook merely hummed, his eyes completely focused on his cock disappearing into you over and over slowly. "Do not forget to attend."

"You should really try a human woman," Jungkook redirected, biting his lip and hissing as his bottomed-out cock twitched inside of you. You whimpered, unable to help the flush of arousal at the thought of her joining, memories of the others flooding your head for a few moments. You wrapped your legs around Jungkook's hips, pulling him tighter against you as he chuckled.

"I have humans," she replied, eyes running up and down your sweaty body and stopping for a few seconds too long on your breasts. "I find myself more inclined for the men of the species."

"Your loss," he grunted, grabbing your hips and yanking you harder towards him, picking up his brutal pace again and filling the air with the sounds of your skin slapping together. "Close the door."

You watched her nod her head towards him slightly before she retreated, pulling the door shut behind her. You could feel the orgasm building inside of you as he continued his movements, all your thoughts and words scrambled in your head.

"That's it, sweetmeat," he cooed, hissing as he rushed his pace. "Come all over me."

You moaned loudly at his command and felt complied to respond with your body, the pleasure tightening in your belly first as your orgasm hit you like a wave, shockwaves throbbing through your body as he continued to thrust into you through it.

"Jungkook," you panted, tightening your legs around his hips and fisting the sheets in your fingers as you winced. "It hurts—"

"Take it, human," he said blankly, his eyes focused on yours intently. You bit your bottom lip and shivered, trying to move your hips along to his bruising pace. "You're so good for me," he purred, leaning down as he stilled inside of you so that he could lick into your mouth lewdly. You could feel his cock twitch before he came, spurting his seed deep inside of you.

"Jungkook," you whimpered, arching your back, arousal swirling in your belly at the feeling of him releasing.

He shushed you as he rode out his orgasm, keeping himself flush against you even as he began to soften and his come started to slip out of you and down your thighs to the bed. As you kissed him back, licking back into his mouth and running your fingers through his dark hair and touching his horns lightly, causing him to growl against your lips, you couldn't help but remember the faerie that had stopped by.

"You're married," you whispered against his lips.

He pulled back just enough to look at you and a razor sharp smile was present on his mouth. "Yes," he said. "The High King must be wed for the future of Faerie." When you didn't say anything, pondering his words to you earlier, he continued as his finger began to trace your cheek. "Did you think I would marry you, sweetmeat?"

Your cheeks flushed. "No."

Jungkook laughed loudly and then pressed a harsh kiss to your pouting lips. "Humans are so fascinating when they lie," he finished, and you could feel him getting hard again inside of you. You squirmed underneath him as he kept you pinned down, a gleeful glint in his eyes as he watched you.

"Again, Jungkook?" you whined, though you were already clenching around him and rocking your hips up into him, your body begging him to start moving again.

He hummed and grinded against you slowly, enjoying the sounds your sticky bodies made with every movement. His hand came to grip your face and he held you still, pulling his cock out halfway and then sliding back in slowly. "I will keep you here, bred and ready for me for eternity," he said roughly, the head of his cock brushing against your g-spot again and making you mewl. He took the opportunity to lick into your open mouth.

When he released you, you sighed against his lips and pressed your thighs against the bed to allow him in deeper. "For eternity," you promised.

Jungkook's hips bucked into you and started another brutal pace, filling the room with your moans for the rest of the night.

"Soobin!" you called, running your hand down your belly bump and feeling the fabric of your dress, like silk, cool against your palm. Each of your fingers was adorned in rings, some metal and some vine. "Bring your brother and sister from the trees."

Your oldest son rolled his eyes, his horns curled backwards and ears almost as long as Jungkook's. He was taller than you now, his growth spurt hitting him years prior, and you couldn't help but smile at him sweetly as you made your way to the long table. Jungkook was seated at the head of the table, your family feasting inside the castle on a rare occasion. His wife was seated to his right and you made your way to his left, huffing as you struggled to sit comfortably.

Jungkook's smile to you was as sweet as it could be. "They should be content to play," he started, but you tutted at him and leaned back in the chair.

"I want them to have some connection to human manners," you replied easily, already used to having the same conversation every time you ate inside.

"I think it's good for them," Hana said, interjecting for once into the conversation.

You nodded your head at her, gesturing. "See?"

Jungkook sighed, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms across his chest. "Yes, yes, go ahead and gang up on me."

"Daddy!" your daughter called out loudly, the rushed footsteps of her and her siblings filling the hall as they ran over to the table. Jungkook immediately opened his arms and let her jump into his lap, running his hand down her long dark hair. "Minnie hit me!"

Jungkook hummed, looking over at his two sons as they took their seats beside you, Soobin first. "And what did you do back?"

Ha Yoon smiled wickedly. "I bit him."

Jungkook and Hana laughed. He let her down from his lap, patting the top of her head. She bounced over to you, pulling on the tips of your hair the same way she used to as a baby. You lowered your head as much as you could and then winced when she nipped at your cheek with her sharp teeth. She giggled when you returned it with a kiss to her head and then rushed over to sit beside her brother.

"Soobin," Jungkook started as the servants, a mix of faeries and humans alike, began to place the food on the table and into your plates. "Have you thought about Hana's proposition?"

Soobin perked up, though your body tensed. Jungkook's eyes cut to you for a brief second, noticing your reaction, before he returned his gaze to your son.

"Yes," he replied, his voice much deeper than it had been when you'd returned to Faerie. "I'd like to go."

You bit the inside of your cheek and shoveled a spoonful of food into your mouth, now used to the wonderfully rich tastes this world had to offer you.

"Wonderful!" Jungkook said, smiling widely. "The carriages leave tomorrow for the Court. You'll go with them."

"My brother will teach you well," Hana said, smiling at Soobin sweetly. She had been like a second mother to him all these years, so you understood that your anxiety was rooted in nothing but jealousy and a wish to keep your children near you. "Oh, and Jungkook," she continued, turning her attention to her husband while you fussed over Soobin and Minhyuk.

"Yes, Wife?" he hummed, making a face at his daughter, who looked the most like him out of the three children.

"I'm pregnant," she giggled.

Jungkook's ears twitched and he turned to her quickly, all sounds quieting in the hall. "You are?"

"Yes."

"That's wonderful, Wife," he said smoothly, reaching over and holding her hand in his. You eyed their intertwined fingers and rings with a rush of jealousy, but the anxiety in your chest worsened. "Faerie will be full of my children's laughter."

They looked over at you expectantly. "Congratulations, Hana," you gulped, smiling as wide as you could to mask your fears.

She smiled tightly back at you, her eyes darting down to your own pregnant belly. "Thank you," she said.

Jungkook reached over and took your hand in his so that he was holding both of your hands. "We will celebrate and have a feast tomorrow with the courts," he said. He squeezed your hand and then released Hana's first, using his now free hand to pat your arm before he let go.

"So we're going to have another brother?" Minhyuk asked, speaking for the first time since he sat down. Your middle son was rather quiet and looked more like you than his father, though you didn't think Jungkook minded. He spoiled them all the same.

"Or sister," Hana told him, her face back to the usual stoic expression that everyone was familiar with.

"And it'll be two of them," you told him. Minhyuk tilted his head and then went back to his food, shoveling it in ravenously.

"And there will still be time for more," Jungkook said wickedly. "From both of you." His foot bumped into yours and you looked up at him through your lashes, arousal swirling between your legs when he winked at you and reached over to rest his hand on your thigh. Hana gasped and you looked over to her, watching how her cheeks flushed pink and you could see that Jungkook's other hand was below the table in her direction as well.

He released both of you again and continued his food, the children chatting with each other and him, mostly, excited to have their father's attention since most of his morning and afternoon had been spent in his office and among his advisors.

Once the children were done with their food, they excused themselves from the table and went to go continue playing. Soobin decided to go off on his own from his siblings, but you still had no idea where he went on nights like these; Jungkook always quelled your worries, telling you that he was at that age now where he should be left alone when he needed to be, instead of fretted over.

Jungkook gestured for you with his hands and you rose from your chair, moving over to stand in front of him. He placed his hands on your belly, eyes devouring you in a way that made you want to push your thighs together for relief. He smirked.

"Have they told you what it is yet?" he asked.

"No," you replied quietly, glancing over at Hana. "They say it'll be another boy."

"Faeries and their theories," he sighed, though his tone was fond. "We'll be visiting the Unseelie Court in a few days," he continued.

"Me as well?" you asked, confused. Usually him and his wife went, but you stayed here.

"Yes," he said. "Hana will be going with Soobin. You will come with me."

You bit your lip as his hands started to travel down your dress, using his fingers to pull the fabric up higher and higher, pulling you closer to his lap as he did so. Even after all these years, he was still insatiable.

"I will go prepare and find Soobin," she interrupted, standing up and dragging your attention away from Jungkook.

He stopped her for a brief second, though his hands continued their work until your dress was lifted enough for him to slide his fingers along your unclothed folds, gathering the slick of your arousal on them before he pushed two inside at once, making you whimper as you leaned back on the table.

"Be ready for me tonight, Wife," he told her. She nodded her head.

Then she took a few steps forward, leaning down and pressing her lips to yours. You gasped into her mouth, letting her tongue press against yours as Jungkook snickered from below you, continuing to work his fingers in and out of you. Hana pulled away with an obscene pop of her mouth, biting down on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood and make you hiss, clenching around Jungkook's fingers.

"I will be," she told him after, leaning down and kissing him harshly. He groaned and rubbed his thumb against your clit with every lick of her tongue against his. Then she pulled away and left the hall, you suspected to her own quarters.

Jungkook pulled his fingers from you and put them in his mouth, licking your slick off while he maintained eye contact with you. He let go of your dress, letting it drop back down to cover your legs, and stood from his chair, walking past the table and looking back at you.

"Come, sweetmeat," he commanded you. Rushing forward as fast as you could in your condition, you slipped your hand into his and allowed him to lead you out into the hall. Jungkook took the opposite turn from the hall leading to his bedroom, instead leading you towards the doors that led into the massive back gardens of the castle, one of your favorite places. You could feel your cheeks flushing with excitement already, knowing he was going to splay you out for anyone wandering the garden to see.

Your packed suitcase was ready beside you, but you ignored it and spent your time fixing Soobin's shirt collar and patting down his hair. He shook his head around, huffing as you fussed over him.

"Mom, I'm not going to be gone so long," he protested, though his voice was soft. You frowned, letting your fingers run through his dark hair one last time before you lowered your hand.

Hana flicked his nose lightly, earning a noise of complaint from the now young adult. "A mother worries, Binnie," she chided him. You smiled lightly when he lowered his head, mumbling an apology to you at her words. He held your hand lightly and pressed a kiss to the back.

"My sweet boy," you said almost tearfully, bringing him in for a hug even though he stood much taller than you. He wiggled uncomfortably, trying not to press too hard against your belly as he returned the hug. "Be safe."

He pulled back with a large smile. "You, as well."

Jungkook arrived, pressing a hand to the small of your back to nudge you forward. "Let us go, sweetmeat," he told you, still using his favorite nickname of yours after so many years. "Yeon will care for the children while we are away."

You looked back, waving to your other two children, who were still so young they couldn't care any less about all of them leaving for about a week's time. "Take care of him, Hana," you said quietly, grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze.

She smiled pleasantly. "As I always have," she replied, returning your squeeze.

Jungkook ruffled Soobin's hair. "Do give them some trouble," he said wickedly, sharing a similar smile of mischief with his oldest son. He leaned over and pressed a long kiss to his wife's mouth, sliding his hand to the back of her neck to keep her close while Soobin started to put their bags in their carriage. When he pulled away, her lips were plump and red from his.

You waved to them as they got in and the drivers led them away, your own carriage pulling up to the front and the servants opening the door. Jungkook easily tossed the suitcases in and then helped you up, always more caring and careful when you were carrying his children. He slid into the seat beside you, never preferring to be across from you like in the shows you had always seen, even if sitting beside each other was more cramped.

"Do not worry, human," Jungkook told you blandly, not even looking out of the window as the carriage started to move, taking you away from the place you had become so familiar with. "We will only be visiting a few days and then we will be back with our children."

You couldn't help but take his hand in yours, thankful he simply opened his palm and let you intertwine your fingers together. "I know," you said, leaning over and resting your head on his shoulder.

As the carriage continued on, you dragged your free hand down your belly nervously, hoping that all your fears concerning the courts were unwarranted and simply human anxieties.

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