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moonshine-nightlight · 6 months

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Nothing's Wrong with Dale: Part Thirty-Two

It’s been a week, but you’re fairly certain your fiancé accidentally got himself replaced by an eldritch being from the Depths. Deciding that he’s certainly not worse than your original fiancé, you endeavor to keep the engagement and his new non-human state to yourself.

However, this might prove harder than you originally thought.

Fantasy, arranged marriage, malemonsterxfemalereader, M/F

AO3: Nothing’s Wrong with Dale Chapter 32

[Part One][Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven] [Part Seven.5][Part Eight] [Part Nine] [Part Ten] [Part Eleven] [Part Twelve] [Part Thirteen] [Part Fourteen] [Part Fifteen] [Part Sixteen] [Part Seventeen] [Part Eighteen] [Part Nineteen] [Part Twenty] [Part Twenty-One] [Part Twenty-Two][Part Twenty-Three] [Part Twenty-Four][Part Twenty-Five] [Part Twenty-Six] [Part Twenty-Seven] [Part Twenty-Eight] [Part Twenty-Nine] [Part Thirty] [Part Thirty-One] Part Thirty-Two [Part Thirty-Three] [Part Thirty-Four]

While the luncheon was laid out in the great hall and the guests were encouraged to enjoy the grounds and gardens, you and Dale are tucked away in the administrative wing of the estate.

After the knot tying you together was carefully burned, you headed to grandmother’s public office, where she receives officials and conducted business with the many administrators that were needed to keep Northridge running.

With the sacred ceremony complete, there is still the matter of the legal one.

“Thank you, Mr. Murray, Miss Adir,” Dale says to his valet and your maid. “My spouse and I will wait for my grandparents and you may return to supervising the packing of our belongings.”

A small smile graces your face at Dale’s words because they drive home that he is no longer your betrothed, but your spouse. Your husband. Yours.

“Yes, my lord,” the servants chorus, enough amusement in their eyes that you’re not certain they entirely believe in the necessity of Dale’s request. Well, the reasoning is sound, but so is the idea that two newlyweds might want a few moments alone together. They depart without any fuss.

Dale immediately looks around the room, his expression intent enough that it pierces your light mood. You frown and ask, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, of course,” Dale says. “I was only—there it is.” He strides behind Grandmother’s desk for a pitcher of water. “Just thirsty.”

Watching how he swallows nearly a whole glass with a grimace, you frown. Cautiously, you ask, “Are you certain that is all?”

“I—,” Dale starts to brush off your concern, you can see the dismissal in his body language before he pauses. “Oh, I, everything is fine. My throat is simply sore. This water is more than adequate to soothe it.”

“The holy water did hurt you,” you say—it's not a question.

Looking almost sheepish, he nods. “I was very diligent in my preparations this week, very pious.” He sounds a little defensive, likely due to you telling him you figured out what he was. “I visited the monsacrin every night for a blessed drink. The sanctif let me take them away with me. I wanted to ensure I would not be overcome today. However, my throat is still sore.”

Tolerance or practice? is your first thought. Was he doing something to his throat to mitigate contact, as you think he might have when the sanctif demonstrated his detection lens on Dale’s hand? Or did he merely practice drinking holy water in private until he could do so with a straight face? Neither are cheering thoughts, although you feel guilty at being reassured that this morning was not a plan developed in advance. That he’d in fact been doing the opposite. “Is your throat burned in some manner? Or are the muscles in some way affected?”

Dale blinks at you before he grins. “Are you certain you are not a true physician, sana?”

“Dale,” you warn despite his flattery, not wanting to be easily diverted from your question.

“Some of each,” he tells you easily enough, although not until after a second long drink from his water glass. “The muscles are a bit stiff, the lining a bit damaged. I did need to continue to breathe and swallow so I could only pull back my physical influence on this body so much.”

Good to know. You had been wondering. You reach into your pockets, glad your full-size pockets had still been able to fit unobtrusively under even this fine gown. “I have a tea blend with me that soothes the throat, although it will work better with honey.” You join him at the cart with tea supplies, taking the kettle and settling it boil. “Grandmother occasionally enjoys some as a sweetener, but we could also send for it. That shouldn’t provoke any notice.”

“The licorice tea?” Dale sounds hopeful as he peers over your shoulder. The feeling of him so close is more distracting than you wish it was. You want to focus on making him feel better, not on how you can sense his body behind you and how you want to lean back just enough to touch. “I used it the third night to great effect.”

You stop what you're doing, turning to frown at him. “But it didn’t help the other nights?”

Dale shrugs, reaching around you to pluck a small jar from the other side of the sugar bowl. He sets the honey next to the cup you’d selected. “I only had the one bag.”

“Why did you just ask for more?” You’re more confused than offended. “Even if I didn’t know, I’d happily have given you more tea.”

Dale holds very still, still enough you notice, at your words. His eyes darken, pupils expanding just enough to make them look inhuman. You wait him out, now able to recognize when he needs time to think. He blinks only a few seconds later and he merely shrugs helplessly. “That did not occur to me. I’m rather used to being on my own.”

“Well, you’re not anymore,” you say, unable to think of anything else. You swallow down all your questions about what part of it didn’t occur to him or questions about his solitary past. “So next time, ask me for help.”

His smile is indulgent and pleased. “Yes, sana.”

The kettle whistles causing you both to jump. Dale reaches around you, taking half a step towards the hearth. You turn back to the cup you’re fixing for him, pulling the honey jar closer, when Dale lets out a quiet noise of surprise. Before you can turn to see what’s happening, his large hand lands on your waist. You barely keep from letting out a surprised yelp as his grip tightens just enough to make it clear he’s using you to steady himself from his position, half leaned down to reach the kettle.

“My apologies,” Dale says as he straightens and lets go of you. You can feel the ghost of his touch and you’re surprised by how much you want it back. “I lost my balance for a second.”

“You should set the kettle down and fetch your cane,” you say, pointing to the heat resistant mat for the freshly heated kettle. You do not want him to trip again while holding it.

“Yes, I should,” Dale says to you as he does just that. He rejoins you at the serving cart with his primary cane, the one with the jade sword in it. He adds, almost to himself, “And I thought my balance memory had been improving.”

You add the appropriate amount of honey and stir it for him. Usually, you let such comments slide, and you’re fairly certain this one was only said because he knows you know now, but perhaps because you do know you, and the two of you are alone, you can ask, “Balance memory?”

“Memory to balance is perhaps more accurate,” Dale replies absently as he leans on the newly gotten cane and accepts the cup of tea you prepared for him. He inhales appreciatively and takes a sip, not bothering to attempt to blow on it to cool the hot tea. Whatever the holy water did to his throat, it must not be a normal burn—temperature never seems to bother him. “Delicious,” he rasps after finishing half the cup at once and with an appreciative smile at you.

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, but it must not be too obvious as Dale appears to notice your confusion over his words more than anything else.

He clears his throat, looking a bit more nervous, as he says, “I, well, typically—that is, prior to being Dale, my form was amorphous and adaptable to my needs to a far greater extent.”

He’s watching your expression closely, clearly ready to stop talking if you…if you what? Look afraid? Or bored? Angry? You don’t know so you try to look neutrally curious as best as you can.

He continues, “If there was a dip in the ground or someone bumped into me or I leaned over too far, a limb would simply… adapt.”

You desperately want to know more but the moment feels fragile, Dale so cautious about talking openly about himself so you try to keep your words soft and simple. “How?”

“Growing longer, short, thicker.” Dale shrugs. “Whatever would be helpful to keep my balance. In physical activity or altercations, I would have been maintaining tight, conscious control over my form as a matter of course and so it is now. However, when not paying it much mind, during routine movement…”

Of course, you realize, it's no different than how you think of such things—you pay attention when stairs are steep or you’re wearing a particular item of clothing that you need to move differently in, but you don’t think about how to walk when nothing is unusual. It’s beneath your general notice. “You didn’t have to give it any attention.”

“Correct.” Dale looks relieved you understand. “And so in such circumstances, even now, my instinct is to flex my form, but I should not—and cannot to some extent now. So I falter instead. The cane is helpful as a reminder and as an aid.”

You ponder this as Dale drinks. What other instincts must he be fighting or controlling? You’d thought him careless, and perhaps he was at times, but in retrospect, his more obvious missteps seem to be when he was new to Dale or when he was particularly distracted or hungry. Thoughtless, but not careless actions.

“Thank you for the tea,” Dale’s voice interrupts your thoughts and you see him setting the empty cup back on the saucer. He seems a bit subdued, or cautious, but perhaps he’s only attempting to be gentle with his voice on his throat.

“You’re certain you don’t need anything more? Nothing else burned you?” You scan his features for hints of holy water or sacred wax burns. You try not to get caught up just looking at him. His face is more his than the original Dale’s now, at least to you, and it's more attractive for it.

“No, no, the wax wasn’t pleasant, or minimizing my influence wasn’t, but it's already removed.” You look down and see the white wax, which still sticks loosely to the back of your hand, has already fallen off his, without leaving a mark. Or perhaps Dale had subtly flicked it off once out of the monsacrin.

“Good, good. While waiting for the ceremony to start, I’ll admit I began to worry that even the amount of light might be too much.”

“No, no. I’m not abyssal, I’m a sort of shade.” At your look of continued confusion, Dale carefully elaborates, “Shadow, not darkness. Shadow needs light to exist, it’s why we’re close to the surface even in the Depths and why we’re more able to handle the Surface, even if we need a vessel. I could suffer some negative effects if left exposed in strong direct sunlight, but to my understanding, so can humans.”

You're startled at the comparison, but he’s correct. “Yes, no one appreciates being sunburned.” Your mind spins with new information, is it going to be this easy to discuss such matters now? Will you finally be able to get to know all the things he’s kept hidden?

“Quite.”

The sound of the door opening is surprising enough you both turn quickly towards it. Dale’s hand goes to his sword without thought, only for Grandfather’s voice to be easily heard as Steward Bilmont walks in.

“…not a cloud in sight,” he’s saying, “the best sort of luck.” You think there’s an underlying irony to Grandfather’s tone that’s more humorous than worried now that this morning’s events have been resolved favorably. It reminds you of when Dale says things you thought were asides about his nature to you but evidently were only to himself.

“It was beautiful,” your mother answers, satisfaction in her voice that reminds you of when she finishes negotiations on a particularly favorable trade contract.

“There they are!” Grandmother announces as the group enters the room. Any wonder regarding if she’d been informed however briefly that the wedding had been called off is put to rest. There’s no chance Grandfather even hinted at such a thing. She pulls Dale into a hug, placing a kiss on his cheek, before tugging you over as well. She has a surprisingly strong grip.

“Congratulations, I am so happy for you,” she continues, joy evident in her expression. She focuses on Dale. “My grandson, married.”

“Grandmother,” Dale says, fondness evident in his voice.

“Yes, yes,” she pulls back, straightening his jacket. “You are not here to listen to your Grandmother’s pride. You are here for your own.”

“Grandmother,” Dale repeats, sounding a little more exasperated.

Grandmother just winks before turning to her desk where her secretary has begun to arrange the paperwork required for officially swearing in yourself and Dale as the reigning couple running Northridge.

“My child, you did well.” Your mother pulls you into an embrace as well, her flowery perfume overwhelming, but the hug is appreciated as is the sentiment. Asher does too, the only sibling present since he’s the one inheriting Portsmith, while your father works with his secretary on arranging the Portsmith paperwork.

Callalily had to do something similar, sign the contracts clarifying her and her descendants' place in the inheritance order since she’d also married an inheriting lord. You’re not sure what Marigold had to sign. It was likely just a formality given her intention not to have children and her spouse wasn’t likely to inherit either. Douglas remains where he is, no marriage plans in sight—and nothing you’ve seen of him these past few days changes that impression, his sacrifice to distract mother aside.

“Dale, this is for you,” Grandfather presents him with a new, exquisite pen which Dale accepts with appropriate gravity and gratitude.

The actual signing of the paperwork is rather boring, but you appreciate the continued respite from crowds. The Northridge charters are the more complex and there are a lot of them. The various papers solidifying what it's yours solely, what authority Grandmother and Grandfather maintain, what would cause any changes to that, Northridge’s succession line. That document does prompt a significant look from Grandmother as after Dale, the fief would go to Dale’s cousin Ferdinand and his child. Luckily she doesn’t actually say anything about heirs—yet.

Instead, she presents Dale with his signet ring—from one Lady of Northridge to her heir. Grandfather gives you your own too and the smile on his face as he does so convinces you that any suspicion he once had for you is in the past.

There is a new formal inheritance list for Portsmith that’s officially signed too, placing yourself and Dale properly in the order along with any future children you might have—the typical rules that Northridge’s heir could not also inherit Portsmith are laid out. Some wish to combine fiefs, but those tend to be people who are particularly ambitious, new to nobility, or neighbors. Most wish to keep traditions and holdings separate. Not to mention the combination of certain fiefs is severely scrutinized by the Crown.

Of course, most of this is hypothetical and not expected to be needed. Asher has plenty of children to carry on the Portsmith line. Still, your family likes to be thorough and the Northridges have had enough surprises in recent succession to agree.

Since all the details had already been worked out, and no one tries to throw last minute spanners into the works, the whole process goes smoothly if a bit long. You sign the Northridge paperwork first, allowing you to sign the Portsmith ones with your new Northridge title. All the witnesses sign as well and it’s done. You’re now officially of Northridge and Dale is the reigning lord.

As soon as celebratory drinks are in everyone’s hands, Grandmother escorts the group to their family hall. It's clear this is the portion of the inheritance tradition she was looking forward to. “Right this way, we have had everything prepared, but even I have not laid eyes on the new additions.”

Your country home had something similar, but far less official—all the portraits are from different eras and hopelessly outdated. You think yours is from when you went off to schooling at fifteen, which perhaps isn’t too long ago, but Marigold’s is when she was that age too. There are other more recent portraits throughout the manor, but a family portrait gallery isn’t particularly important to Portsmith traditions. The city estate at the port doesn’t even have that—gifted portraits or those bought to curry favor with different interests are what decorate its halls.

Northridge’s family hall is large and organized, with multiple portraits for family members at significant stages in life going back generations. With Dale’s marriage and inheritance, Grandmother has commissioned new portraits of him and you together. You sat for the painting when you first arrived, most of your figure had been completed before Dale arrived home, with only a session or two sat together. It had been a quiet, stiff affair and you’d been grateful when you could leave the painter to his work. You had stopped by his studio in the city, allowed him to make the adjustments and touch-ups he felt necessary, but they had not been terribly long.

When you finally come to a halt, there are not one or two portraits covered in sheets for a dramatic reveal—Grandmother insisted—but three.

You’d been shown around the gallery when you first arrived, paying most attention to Grandmother and Grandfather’s as well as Dale’s parents and only coming back for a refresher when more of Dale’s family had begun to arrive. It is still grand and intimidating, more so with yourself being added now.

“We are going to have a new portrait commissioned as well,” Grandmother says as they walk by her and Grandfather’s most recent portrait from at least twenty years ago. There’s a severity to them and a grief that tells it was only a few years after the loss of their son and daughter-in-law. They deserve to have a happier portrait hanging. The Northridge coat of arms, which used to hang above their portrait, has already been moved to hang over the unrevealed portrait of yourself and Dale. The wall above them looks strangely bare with its removal.

You gather around the unrevealed paintings in a half circle and Grandmother waits for everyone’s attention. “To commemorate your rise to Lord of Northridge and your marriage, there are three portraits to reveal. Firstly, I am delighted to reveal the official portrait of Dale Tiberius Archibald Remmington Quincey, Lord of Northridge.”

Bilmont pulls back the blue cloth to show the portrait of Dale in his black, white, and blue suit, the one which mirrored the Northridge colors on the crest now a few feet above the still hidden joint portrait. It too had been started when Dale first arrived, before the current Dale had taken over, and some of the original Dale’s arrogance and haughtiness is evident in his posture and the line of his back.

Still, the artist had seen Dale since he’d changed and there are hints of that throughout. His stare is direct but less condescending, the blue of his eyes more vivid, but also kinder. He looks, not older, but more mature—the youth in his fearlessness tempered. It’s a masterful blend of both Dales and you’re relieved that it leans towards the new Dale without making the contrast between this portrait and the one prior to his travels too stark.

“It is lovely, Grandmother,” Dale says, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“Of course it is,” she preens. “I was certain your travels and return would help you to grow into this responsibility. This portrait makes it obvious, how much you have matured into the man I always knew you could be. I am certain your parents would be proud of you.”

Dale is obviously at a loss for words and so are you, feeling a pang of pity for Grandmother, who could not see what her grandson had become nor that he is gone. Neither of you have to say anything because she continues before you can.

“And I have not overlooked your influence, my dear.” Grandmother’s cloudy eyes still manage to narrow in on you without difficulty. “Each day you have been here, you have solidified my knowledge that you were the perfect partner for my Dale. As you can see from the halls, traditions vary, but for you I knew we would want a portrait of you in your own right. Your parents were so understanding when I wrote to them.”

You turn in surprise to see them giving you a knowing smile. “We came to a most equitable arrangement. A copy of our most recent portrait of you,” you mother says with a pleased smile.

“In exchange for a copy of the portrait of you and your husband,” your father finishes. He nods to Bilmont and the steward obligingly reveals the portrait your parents had commissioned of you.

For a second, you’re concerned that they’ll have merely replicated the one of you at fifteen. You do not mind that portrait—you had been immensely proud of standing for it at the time under your own power and looking wonderfully adult to your young eyes—but even after your first return from school, you had been struck by how young and frail you’d looked in it.

This is a new portrait of you in a favored blue dress—not quite the vibrant Northridge blue nor Portsmith’s blue-gray, but somewhere in the middle. You’d worn it to a number of balls, including the one you first met Grandmother and Grandfather at. The painter must have attended a number of those galas because their skill in capturing your appearance is evident. You’d seen portraits painted that resembled the subjects very little and it was most common among those painted without formal sittings.

Your mother is saying something about the painter and his methods, as if hearing your thoughts, but you’re not really listening to her, you’re too busy studying the portrait.

The you in the painting is more flattering than the one you see most often in the mirror, today perhaps as an exception, but you can recognize yourself with ease. You are more clearly the age that you are now, a grown adult rather than a sickly child in the former painting. This you has thicker hair, less of your bones are prominent. You look less on edge and of course, your frame is fuller. Mother must have instructed the painter to give you a solidity you still don’t believe you have, always pushing for what she wants you to be rather than what you are. But it’s not egregious, even if there is more conviction in the set of this you’s jaw than you’ve ever truly felt. Again, except perhaps this morning when you sought out Dale to confront him. Overall, you find the expression pleasant, even if you think there’s something a bit off with your nose.

It’s the other details in the portrait that hold your attention. There’s a banner with the Northridge coat of arms behind you, but a book with Portsmith’s coat on the cover in our hands. The spine of the book is for a medicinal textbook, and the tea on the high table you're positioned next to even seems to steam. The vase is full of plants you recognize from your tea blends—and each of the flowers from your siblings’ namesakes are present as well.

“It’s lovely,” you say, glad your voice is soft enough that it doesn’t betray that you abruptly feel close to tears.

“You’re welcome,” your father says, with a comforting squeeze to your shoulder.

Soon, Grandmother quiets you all down for the final reveal. “Lastly, allow me to present the Lord and Lady of Northridge.”

Dale’s outfit, his black suit and red waistcoat is so obviously one the original Dale wore, although to be honest, this Dale is drawn to bold colors too. You’re in your white and blue with black accents Northridge dress. The two of you are posed in front of the large windows in the south hall, the ones that lead to the gardens. The clothes and the pose are of the past, but the expressions are clearly from recent sittings. So is the way you’re turned toward each other, not dramatically, but more than before. You look together instead of just standing next to each other. Even Dale’s greater presence and more forward position has been rendered far more protective than attention-seeking.

The signet rings of Northridge glitter on your fingers in the painting, even though you’d not put them on until a few minutes ago. You look married in that portrait and it helps solidify in your mind that you are.

Dale reaches over to clasp your hand in his and you smile up at him, proud to be here, in this moment, with him.

-/-

In the end, the wedding luncheon is remarkably similar to the other galas and balls that you’ve been hosting for the past few weeks, baring the high sun. You make it through being announced without tripping. You make small talk with everyone who wants to—which is everyone. You manage a few additional moments with your family. You’re grateful your dancing is with limited partners as it’s considered ill luck for the newly weds to dance with any other than each other or their immediate families.

Unusually it drags as time passes, until it is time to leave at which point you feel as if only a few moments have passed since you entered. As the married couple, you do not have to stay hosting until late in the night this time. You’ve never felt as if you were sneaking away, as if you were getting away with shirking your duties, while such a large group sees you off. It’s very peculiar.

The other servants and your packed belongings likely left over an hour ago. Only your personal servants are leaving at the same time. You find yourself outside, bidding goodbye to your family, as you stand in front of your carriage with a suddenness that almost makes you dizzy.

Then Dale is holding out a hand for you, which you take, allowing him to help you into the carriage. You carefully adjust your skirts before and after you sit down on the comfortable plush bench. A carriage for two, only a few trunks sit opposite you giving more ample room for legs and skirts. You make space on your left for Dale and he soon joins you, folding himself into a seating position as soon as he can so as not to bump his head on the ceiling.

“Are you settled, my spouse?” he asks as the door shuts. He pulls up the window nearly as quickly so as to ensure the air does not get stifling.

You wonder if you’ll ever get tired of hearing him call you that. Somehow you don’t think you will. “Yes, I’m comfortable.”

“Lovely,” he replies, giving a quick smile which flashes the whites of his sharp teeth. He leans forward to wave cheerily at Grandmother before he knocks on the front wood separating yourselves from the driver and footman.

It only takes a minute for the driver to set the horses off and you pull away from Northridge estate to the sound of falling grain thrown by guests before they return to enjoying the festivities without you.

You do your best to wave goodbye to your family, but looking out the window for too long begins to upset your stomach. They’re out of sight before long as it is.

You settle back down in your seat and try to orient yourself, catching your breath in practice if not necessity.

“Water?” Dale offers, holding out a flask and wiping the back of his mouth with his free hand to indicate he’d just taken a sip himself.

You take the flask gratefully and drink some water to clear your mouth and throat. You pass it back to him with murmured thanks. The silence, the first in hours, fills the carriage.

Dale is the one who breaks it. He reaches for the basket on top and pulls out an apple. “I had them pack some foodstuff for us, given you tend not to eat much at these events—”

“And you are nearly always hungry,” you finish, accepting a grape. A mix of embarrassed and flattered that he knows you so well.

“Quite,” Dale says with a crooked smile.

You get caught in his gaze, like you haven’t since the very beginning. Perhaps instead of you becoming accustomed to it yourself, Dale had merely gotten better at controlling the way his presence could reel you in. Perhaps he isn’t trying so hard now that he knows that you know. Now that you’re finally alone.

“So I suppose we should—” Dale is cut off by a loud bark of laughter from the front of the carriage. Whoever made the sound, driver or footman, is quick to shut their mouth, but the reminder is well served. Dale smiles apologetically. “We should talk once we arrive at the lodge of any matters of import, perhaps not now.”

“No, you’re correct,” you sigh, feeling the day’s events weighing strongly on you. You adjust your seat, grateful you had insisted on Grandmother storing your veil for you here and not taking it on your travels. Your neck bends at an awkward angle when you try to rest it against the inner frame. A bump in the road, still being worked on, causes you to sit straighter and give up on the idea of leaning against the carriage side.

“We can speak of other matters,” you say, though you’d actually like little more than to stop talking and nap. The day had begun so much earlier than usual, in order for you to be ready before the mid-morning ceremony, and had been so busy that you’re exhausted.

“Of course,” Dale says. “We’ll have an entire week at the lodge, before we go on to Riverton. It’s been many years since, em, I’ve been there, but it’s an industrious city, with a river that has hopefully enough water for you to feel at home…”

You listen as Dale elaborates on some specific memories he has of the city, more than the names of officials, and where you would visit as discussed with Grandmother and Grandfather. He isn’t explicit, in case either servant up front can hear, but you can read between the lines far more easily now that he isn’t pretending these are his own memories. He’s careful to keep his voice lower to minimize the others' hearing, but loud enough for you to pick out above the clatter of the carriage on the road.

The overall effect is soothing and comfortable. It’s easy to close your eyes, to sway a little in your seat. Dale’s hand ends up in your lap at some point, and your hands cover it without remembering having done so. The day hadn’t been overwhelmingly hot, but it's warm and you’re so tired. Not just from today, but from the whole past month. From before that when you were anxious to meet the original Dale and dealing with him once you had. From the weeks and months spent searching for a spouse. It all seems to be catching up with you at once.

You drift off with the motion of the carriage, and the sound of Dale’s voice in your ear, his strength and presence comfortingly close by.

[Part Thirty-Three]

#my writing #story: nothing's wrong with dale #story part #nothing's wrong with dale #terato #exophilia #monster romance #osha compliance #arrange marriage #slow burn #monster bf #reader #finally done with this chapter #idk where yesterday and the day before went #glad today is a late start #need to practice my presentation now #hope you like it!

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sammygrimoire · 5 months

Text

Everyone felt confused as the glow of the summoning circle finally died down, the League had managed to subdue the cultists too late and now...

Wait, who and what were the cultists trying to summon?

Constantine stared at the ghost? bride?? That appeared over the summoning circle, looking confused and tired. The lead cultist had clearly screamed about summoning the Ghost king... wait, this dumbasses didn't accidentally managed to summon its bride did they???

Oh no, oh nononononono--

Danny just want a nap after a whole week of doing paperwork.

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explicit-tae · 2 years

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Can you please make a part two of Slave 19990319 ?

It can be a drabble, smut, angst anything (smth related to past)! I just want more of that couple.

this just a request....it depends on you ..if you want to write or not...thank you <3

OMG THAT WAS SUCH A MASTERPIECE .... been waiting for a story like that for so long ...i was never a type to like aliens fanfiction but this was so fing good AHH...it was so smooth and plot was kept so interesting...i cant use words to describe it.

I wasn't expecting to add a second part to it but now that I think about it..why not 😅 I'll add a short one-shot

Concubine 19990319

Masterlist | Slave 19990319 (Part 1) | Power & Control (Part 3) W.I.P

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: alien! prince! Jungkook x human! reader

Word Count: 6,008

Warning: dark/yandere themes, arrange marriage, impreg kink, unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, tentacles, reader is stabbed, blood, yandere/dark themes, possessive reader

Description: The King doesn't approve of Jungkook's relationship with you - a human pet - and agrees to arrange a marriage with the Princess of a neighboring planet, Planet Amare. Soon you're considered nothing but the Princes Concubine. Desperate times call for desperate measures and you refuse to let Jungkook be taken away from you.

Jungkook trails through the large dining area, head held high and back straight. You marvel at how beautiful he was - he was truly glowing before your eyes. You place a smile on your lips as Jungkook glances your way. He winks, glowing eyes only sparkling more when he catches your eyes.

The following year since Jungkook and you had been intimate was one of the best years you've spent since on Planet Ivictus. You couldn't think of a day you and Jungkook weren't doing anything sexual - even if it wasn't full on sex. Still, the time Jungkook and you spent without sex were just as great. You enjoyed his company all together - especially when it was just the two of you. Getting the shower or bathe with him was fun - you two joked and laughed and talked.

When Jungkook wasn't working, the two of you often visited the Planet. Of course, Planet Ivictus was much larger than Earth was, but him being able to transfport anywhere with a blink of an eye (one of the reasons they called it "blinking"), it made it much easier for the two of you do so. He showed you the view from the tallest mountain, making sure to hold you close to him so you wouldn't be frightened by the altitude. The view of the large moon appearing so close was picture perfect scenery.

Your eyes blink, and when they do you could finally look away from Jungkook. Behind him is his father, the King had his eyes dead set on you before glancing away. Both men make their way to the large dining table surrounded by elites and those closest to the Palace. The King takes his seat at the head of the table while Jungkook sits beside him in the empty seat next to yours. He places a hand on your thigh gently and all you can do is smile.

The King raises his glass and immediately one of the cooks comes to pour in wine - a dark red wine appearing to be similar to blood. The next one to be served is Jungkook, then you and the rest of the eliest. The King clears his throat and stands, the dining hall going deathly quiet to hear what the King has to say. These feasts weren't foreign - it happened at least once a month with the King hosting a few meetings with the elites, sharing details of missions - most importantly it was to show Jungkook what he'd be expected to do when it was his time to rule the planet.

The King says a few words in their dialect - and though you could catch a few words since your time on the planet, you couldn't say you'd completely understood what they said. A few nods happened and all you could do was wait for a form of understanding. The King takes a sip of his drink, as do the rest of the elite. You do with a raised brow.

"This feast is not in vain," the King says, voice deep and your ears twitch at the familiar language you understood. "we are here to welcome the King and his daughter - the Princess - of the neighboring planet. Planet Amare."

The large dining doors open and just as the King says, two individuals come through. The man, tall - possibly as tall as the King - with reddish, coily hair. His eyes captivate you - they were a golden color that seemingly shines just as the people of Planet Ivictus. His skin was a golden russet color and it took everything in you to look away from him and to the woman next to him - his daughter. An action you regretted.

You hear a few gasps coming from around you - Jimin being the first one. You don't need to look at him to know his eyes are on the Princess. She was similar to her father with the same russet skin and reddish, coily hair. Her eyes were almond shaped and though golden, much lighter than her fathers. Her lips were heart shaped and plump, adoring a shy smile as she strolled through the dining hall.

In less words - she was beautiful to you and it was hard to not stare at her. She was tall and athletically built, yet her body was pure feminine that even you questioned your own body weight. As they come closer, you could feel Jungkook besides you. He's sipping his wine, hand still on your thigh as the two individuals make their way to the dining table with a bow.

"King Cali and Princess Azad." the King bows to the two of them.

"King Jae-yong and Prince Jungkook." The King of Amare says, clapping his hands together. "It's a privledge to be in your presence."

Jungkook only snorts and the King gives his son a hard glare. "Please, sit." the King says. Two chairs are pushed out for the two of them. They are seated close to the King - something that rarely happens to outsiders.

"Thank you for coming." King Jae-yong says.

"Father," Jungkook speaks. He doesn't look at the two outsiders - Planet Amare came from a neighboring planet that were far different from Planet Ivictus. They didn't believe in violence and were complete pacificts. That was alright, sure, yet the judgment they displayed on other Planets and their own traditional beliefs were nothing but hypocritical. Jungkook wanted nothing to do with these people. "why are we here?"

Your eyes catch the Princesses and she nods her head. You do the same, somewhat nervous under her gaze and confused overall by their presence. The Ivictus people were a natural warrior race, and though you and Jungkook never went into details, you knew well enough that he - and his friends - had killed when they left the Planet. It was their job - the less you knew the better.

King Jae-yong lowers his wine glass and glances at King Cali

"We," King Cali starts. "want to put aside our differences. Planet Amare and Planet Ivictus's differences are long overdue."

Jungkook drinks the rest of his wine.

"And what better way to bring two planets together and rules as one than to propose a marriage." King Jae-yong finishes. He could feel it coming - his son's mouth. It would be the death of him eventually.

"Who's getting married?" Jungkook furrows a brow. The look of Taehyung across from him - shaking his head - while Jimin only continues to drink more wine. Jungkook eyes his father. "Who's getting married...?" he repeats, tone darkening.

"The Prince of Ivictus and the Princess of Amare." King Jae-yong responds.

Your heart hurts - the way it beats outside your chest you are certain everyone could feel it. You feel Jungkook's fingers dig into your thigh, right through the pants you wore and through your skin.

"I'm not marrying anyone." Jungkook hisses.

"That wasn't a request." King Jae-yong hisses right back. "It's an order that's already finalized."

Jungkook removes his hand from your thigh and lifts himself up, cape swinging behind him. The King does the same, glaring at his disrespectful son.

"It's time you stop playing these childish games with your pet." The King murmurs to his son, glancing down at you.

Not to be mistaken with distaste. The King comes to adore you - as do many of the people on the Planet. However, he is no fool to know that his son admiration for you is far beyond a Master and pet - he could always smell the sex coming from him whenever he left you. The amount of people his son has killed with his bare hands in your defense was becoming chaotic.

Jimin takes another gulp of his wine. He was going to need it if he was going to have to console an angered Jungkook soon. The King was as predictable as always - and now he insisted that Jungkook marry the princess of a judgmental neighboring Planet was just asking for it. Asking for Jungkook to lose his cool and throw a temper tantrum.

"You can keep your companion." Princess Amara speaks - her tone is as sweet as honey. It makes your blood boil and you're unsure why. "I don't expect you to love me, Prince Jungkook, and I understand we're only doing this for the sake of our Planets."

Jungkook clenches his jaw.

"A marriage and a child." King Cali suggests. "To ensure..."

You drown down the conversation. You feel your vision blurred and your mind was swirling with a million thoughts at once. Jungkook being married - having his own family. WHat would happen to you? Where would you go? Would you be banished from the palace - even if the Princess did say that you and Jungkook could remain together. However, how would this work? Would Jungkook leave and be forced to stay on Planet Amare?

"I will be damned if I give a child to someone from that Planet." Jungkook snarls. He pushes away from his father and turns to you. "Y/N-"

"If not you'll be stripped of your title."

Jungkook stiffens.

There are a few murmurs surrounding him and slowly, he turns to his father. The look on the King's face is serious. Jungkook shakes his head. "You'll do that to your son?" he asks in disbelief. "Strip me from what's rightfully mine?"

The King doesn't back down and all Jungkook could do is scoff. He's hurt - but he could never show it. He would do what he usually does when he feels hurt - lock himself in his room and hold you close to his chest. He doesn't cry - even when you suggest it'll feel better if he does.

Jungkook turns his eyes to the Princess. "I want nothing to do with the child." he says, scarily calm. "Let's go, Y/N."

"What if they kill me?" you'd ask her, eyes widen with disbelief.

"The Prince would never allow that." Siobhan - the human pet of the elitist and the same one who gave you advice for over a year - responds with a roll of her eyes.

You didn't need to tell Siohban of the unfortunate circumstances surrounding Jungkook and his arranged marriage. She was there with her own master - and ever since then she was conjuring up a plan to get you out of this mess. The fact that you - someone the Prince has grown extremely close to since his childhood years - were going to be considered a concubine.

"Are you having second thoughts?" Siobhan tilts her head to the side. "What if that Princess orders you to be banished from the Palace? Sent back to Earth?" Siobhan shakes her head with wide eyes. "Or worse."

"What's worse?" you question with a murmur. You lean closer.

"What if you get a different master because the Princess doesn't want you as his concubine?" Siobhan doesn't think this would ever happen - Jungkook was far too deep in his obsession with you. His distain for the Princess was evident that he wanted nothing to do with her. Still - what she was telling you was true. You needed to do what she planned.

"It's surprising you haven't fallen pregnant yet." Siobhan crossed her legs, eyes glancing over the edged railing of the Palace gardens.

"He makes me swallow something so it doesn't happen." you tell her.

Siobhan raises a brow. "Hm, I see. It must be a contraceptive." Siobhan tilts her head. "You drink what I gave you instead of the contraceptive and soon...you'll be pregnant."

You eyed the small vile in your hands. The color is purple and for some reason, your tastebuds already tell you that it's disgusting. But you weren't doing this for your taste buds - you were doing this you and Jungkook. Jungkook being forced to be married to someone that wasn't you leaves a bad taste on your tongue.

Jungkook and you never talked about children - nor was it ever truly an option. You were alright with how things were now - side by side with Jungkook and being the only woman in his life. But Siobhan was correct - the Princess could possibly alter Jungkook's mind and send you out of his life. Jungkook hasn't been with another woman in over a year - yet she would soon be his wife and he'd have to. She was a beautiful woman whose beauty far exceeded yours - what better way to rival that than a child.

"When was the last time you took the contraceptive?" Siobhan questions.

"A few days ago."

Siobhan nods her head. "Then it should be leaving your system now. Take a few sips of that," she points to the vile in your hands. "a day and it'll make you more fertile, alright?"

You nod your head, licking your lips.

Your talks with Siobhan are always welcomed. She assisted you immensely each time you needed her to - almost like an elder sister. Now all you had to do was wait for Jungkook to come back to his room like he always did - each time more stressed than last time.

You waited an hour until Jungkook slammed the door open and shut. He tears off his armor and throws it aside. His jaw is clenched and the look in his eyes is menacing. You catch his eyes and it noticeably softens. "Were you asleep?" he ponders.

You shake your head. "Do you need a massage?" you suggest. You come accustomed to massaging Jungkook whenever he was upset - lately was more often than not.

Jungkook sighs but nods. He lays upon his bed, cheek on the soft satin sheets. He closes his eyes when he feels you sit on him, hands already working on his back.

Jungkook wouldn't say he hated his father. He was sure he meant no harm by what he was trying to do for the Palace, yet he had no desire to be a husband to anyone. Jungkook was a man that lived in reality and understood well enough he could never have you as his wife and eventually he would have to marry someone. He wasn't expecting it to be so sudden - he had all the time in the world to be King; why rush to be a husband and father? It made no sense to him.

Jungkook and his father bumped heads often now. While him and King Cali were forming a bond with planning this arrangment, he could care less about conversing with the Princess. She tried one too many times to start a conversation, all in which he turned down. It wasn't her, of course. She was beautiful - he'd admit that - but she wasn't you. She couldn't treat him as well as you had already. The Princess didn't know how to massage his back with such delicate hands such as you or rub his head when it was time to sleep. He couldn't be vulerable around a stranger as her.

Jungkook shudders at the thought of even sleeping with another woman. A year can change everything in life entirely. He would have never thought that he would fuck you every chance he had the chance to. He attempted to hide his feelings of lust for you until he could no longer - having to fuck someone and give them a child, a heir to the throne at that, disgusts him. He was more willing to do it without sex - maybe the scientists roaming the Palace could assist him in that.

You kiss along Jungkook's neck, stirring him awake from his slumber. He turns around, you are now sitting in his lap. He flutters his eyes open and yawns. His hands rub along your thigh and already he could feel himself hardening against you. He didn't feel this way for another woman - no matter how many threw themselves at him.

"You're stressed." you murmur, hands rubbing along his bare chest. "Let me make you feel better."

"You already have." Jungkook replies. In the four walls of his room, laying in bed with you makes his situation easier to deal with. When he was away from you and forced to be with Princess Azad was when his stress - and annoyance - skyrocketed.

You rub against him, his cock was already erect and all it took was for you to tempt him enough to fuck you. You lean down to bring him into a kiss. His lips are soft and you can swear you pick up the taste of banana. Jungkook may be a man, but his love for savory and sweet food and drinks didn't outgrow him when he became one.

Soon your tongue is dancing with Jungkook's and his hands are gripping onto you. He's needy - not having the chance to fuck you in a few days. It's difficult to not give into you whenever you iniciated sex - no matter the location. It was an adrenaline rush, honestly. You were unpredictable - taking him in your mouth outside in the Palace grounds while the guards were away, riding him close to the edge of the waterfall; you were frightened because you knew he wouldn't let you fall.

"I need you inside of me." you break the kiss, already kicking off your shorts and underwear. You're already so wet that there wasn't any need for preparation. You yank at Jungkook's waist line, trying to remove the spanx material. You're successful, pulling hard enough that his cock springs out.

Jungkook hisses when he feels you lower yourself onto him. He releases a breath, you set the pace already. Feet on the bed, you raised and lowered yourself at a rapid pace. The bed is shaking and the sounds of skin slapping is rough - anyone passing by could hear the two of you. Nothing anyone hasn't heard before - everyone knew how well he fucked you and just how good you sucked him off.

You couldn't help but stare at Jungkook's expression. Bliss - he was content right now, at this moment. He had no worries about marrying a stranger for the act of appearance. He wasn't worrying about his father's threats, or what other people were saying. At this moment it was just him and you - what he always preferred. "I love you so much, Jungkook." you cry out, clenching around him. You were slowly growing tired, but you were determined for him to cum inside of you.

Jungkook nods his head. You always confessed your love for him - it wasn't new. He understood your love for him and though he never said the words to you, you were positive he felt the same way.

Jungkook flips you, him now on top. He roughly pushes your legs to your shoulders and enters you. He rams inside of you at an alarming pace that you adore. "Say it again." Jungkook commands, sweat tricking down his forehead. He loved hearing you confess your love to him.

"I love you!" you cry, flinching each time he pumps inside of you. You can feel him deep inside of you, the bulge of your stomach as he does so is just as much proof. You're leaking onto the bed, but neither of you care.

"Again." Jungkook places a hand on your stomach, his thrust never halting.

Jungkook's eyes intently watch the way he fucks into you. He knows how perverted his mind is for you, but all he could think about was breeding you. It was natural for him and the people of Ivictus - to breed their partners. Only, you weren't his partner and breeding you would cause more harm for him than good. Still, that didn't stop him from imagining you full of his cum; large with his child.

"I love you, Jungkook." you cry, you were cumming around him as you spoke - but Jungkook wasn't done with you. He marvels at the way you cream around his cock. "I wish I could give you a baby."

Jungkook chokes. "Yeah?"

You nod groggily, eyes closed. "It's not fair someone else get's to have your baby." you're plotting for sure - but it wasn't suspicious. Jungkook had his own fetish and whatever Jungkook preferred, you'd gladly do. His often expressed how he wished to breed you and each time you fed into that kink - just now you actually wanted him to.

"I know..." Jungkook's hips were snapping into sloppily.

"Please cum in me." you begged. "I want to have your baby, Jungkook. It's not fair!"

Jungkook curses - he was going to cum. You didn't know just how much you controled him with just your words.

"Please breed me, Jungkook." you begged, eyes opening now to look right into his.

Eyes glassy and filled with lust and exhaustion, you were beautiful and utterly filthy. Jungkook does just as you ask him to, he shoots a large load into you, twitching. He falls on top of you, cock still inside of you. You could feel some cum dripping out, but you don't mind. As long as majority of it remained inside, you were content.

Jungkook rolls away from you after regaining consciousness. He reaches for the small container on his bed side table - the contraceptive dosage he gave you each time he came inside of you. It wasn't something he wished to give to you, but understanding you getting pregnant wasn't an option, no matter how he wished it was you who would give him his first child and now Princess Azad.

You take the container from his hand and pour a few of the powder into your hand. Jungkook had done this enough that he trusted you to do it yourself. You don't take it, opting to wiping your hand completely on the pillow once you hear his breathing slow down.

"Get me a spacepod, father." Jungkook roars. "I'll banish myself before I allow you to hurt Y/N."

"You and your concubine have caused enough damage to this Planet!" King Jae-yong declares, fury in his eyes. "I'm not one to tell a man what to do-"

"She's not my concubine, father." Jungkook hisses at his father, the look in his eyes appearing to be the same as the Kings. "She's pregnant with the rightful heir."

The King feels his hands clench.

As a month passes, Jungkook has grown suspicious of your behavior. You were far more horny than usual, which is weird to say because you always were ready for him. However, Jungkook had taken you so many times in different positions that he himself was growing tired afterwards - that didn't mean he stopped. He fucked ou against the shower wall, in his room - hell, the hallway on the way to his room. He wasn't safe from you - and he shared no complaints.

However, that wasn't what frightened him. Your appetite did. Humans didn't have a large appetite for food like the Ivictus people had. However, when you accompanied him along with Jimin and Taehyung, you had ate far more than the three of them did - and even wanted more.

Your strength has even increased. Now of course, you couldn't rival him. But when the two of you were playfully tussling along with Jimin, the way you brought Jimin onto his back shocked not only him and Jimin, but even the guards passing by.

Your change in appetite and strength had him questioning the scientists in the palace. They came from all around the Universe and surely would understand what was happening to you. He read no where that Human woman would grow to be like this and even wished it wasn't something deadly you'd contracted. The scientists were just as clueless, but ran no test. They concluded that you were just growing into your environment.

Jungkook wasn't convinced, but he got his answer when he once wrapped a tentacle around your waist. He did every so often now that you weren't afraid of them. He felt it - it was faint, yet he could feel it. He was alarmed at the other heart beat. While yours was that of a normal human, the heart beat of an Ivictus being was far more rapid - and he felt it coming from inside of you.

"I want her killed." King Jae-yong commands the guards. "A half-breed can never-"

Jungkook never struck his father unless they were sparring. But Jungkook wouldn't allow your death - not when you were with a child. He couldn't wrap his mind around how you were suddenly pregnant - he gave you the contraceptive the scientists made each time he came inside of you. Yet, he couldn't worry about that now. "I won't let you kill her!" Jungkook screams, irate. His eyes are shining brighter now as his emotions peak and his tentacles come out tenfold.

The King widened his eyes at his son. He's breathing heavily. This wasn't his son - he didn't raise his son to be this way. His obsession with you was greater than expected - so much so now you were pregnant while Jungkook was set to be married. How could a Prince allow a concubine be pregnant but refuse to touch his wife - it was preposterous.

"Get me a space pod." Jungkook turns to the guards. "Now!"

"Where are you going?" The King follows after Jungkook, stalking behind him. Guards all scurry away from the feuding father and son.

"Away from this Planet." Jungkook hisses. "I won't let you kill, Y/N. I won't let you kill my child."

The King inhales. "You aren't thinking rational."

Jungkook turns on his heels. "You want me to marry someone who looks down upon us." Jungkook scoffs. "For the sake of what? Appearance? I do what I've always done, father, I go to Planets and I conquer them and sell them to the highest bidder. That's what we've always done."

Jungkook turns away from his father. "I learned that from you. If you're going to strip me from my title, then do so. There's no need to banish me from the Palace because I'm already leaving."

"May I?"

The voice is sweet and soft - contrary to the way Jungkook and his father were screaming and belowing at one another.

"I wish to continue the marriage." the Princess says and Jungkook scoffs. "This marriage was never going to be one of love."

King Cali stands behind his daughter. He isn't impressed with the way both Ivictus men are speaking, yet he expected nothing less from them.

"We can still bring together both planets." Princess Azad smiles sweetly. "And raise this child as ours."

"No." Jungkook deadpans. "I don't want you near my child."

Princess Azad nods her head. "Then so be it. That is your right - however, for appearances, this will be our child."

"I agree." King Cali nods. "We're here strictly for business - if a child out of wedlock is what the Prince wants," he shrugs. "Then so be it."

"Jungkook." The King calls, but all Jungkook can do is shake his head. "You don't have to leave with Y/N."

Jungkook snickers. Now he called you by your name, and not his concubine.

"I will like to start the wedding as soon as possible. So the pregnancy won't be far off." Princess Azad steps forward. "Then I can go back to Planet Amare while your...partner gives birth."

"Deal." King Jae-yong agrees. "We'll discuss the arrangements tonight."

The footsteps of Princess Azad and King Cali can be heard throughout the quiet halls - yet all Jungkook could hear was his fathers words.

"You'd do all of this for appearances?" Jungkook murmurs. "Even if it's to cause harm to my child?"

The King stands tall. Maybe it was cruel of him - yet the weight of the Kingdom and the Planet was on his shoulders. He cannot have his son acting out of emotion. A child with a human would be nothing but a disgrace to the Ivictus people - a weakling if anything.

"She won't survive long."

"Shut up."

"She'll die sooner or later, son. Either before or during childbirth."

"Shut up!" Jungkook bellows.

"Humans are not meant to carry children with Ivictus blood. I'm sure your child will be a weakling, yet she cannot handle such a pregnancy."

Jungkook turns to glare at his father.

"You don't know what my child will become!"

The King remains quiet as Jungkook makes his exit. He'll allow his son to live out his fantasy for now - he was sure when you come to your injuries only then will he realize how true his words are.

Princess Azad finds herself being dragged away from, eyes wide with shock. Her clothes are stained with the crimson blood, yet she's unsure what happened. Her life flashes before her eyes when she hears your bloodcurling screams through her ears. She doesn't know who's hands are wrapped around her and all she can focus on is you being pushed away, unconsious and bleeding.

"Take her to the King!" one guard hisses, pushing her roughly away from the area. "She tried to kill the Prince's child."

"No!" she screams, shaking her head. She tries to fight against the Guards but is no match for them. "I didn't try to-"

"Silence!" a guard hisses and pushes her onto the ground.

Princess Azad is terrified when she witnesses the harsh look in their eyes - the look of disgust. No one's ever given her such a look. She was a Princess from a harmless Planet - she was beautiful and adored.

"You tried to harm the Prince's child and now you will be dealt with accordingly." the guard shakes his head with a scoff. "And you people from Amare call us heartless."

"What is going on here?!" Princess Azad turns to her father who is running to her aid. She's now crying, tears flowing down her cheeks at such a rapid pace. "Azad-"

"Take both of them." Taehyunf commands, his eyes on Jimin. "Maybe a human is beneath you, Princess Azad, but anyone who harmed her on this Planet were on strict rules to be executed."

"Executed?!" King Cali hisses. He's confused on what's going on, but he understood for sure that his daughter didn't hurt anyone.

Namjoon is the first to be by your side to escort you away. He shakes his head at your unconscious figure. His hand cups your bulge - so large and filled with life - that he glares at Princess Azad behind him. "We need to get her to the infirmary immediately. Inform the Prince."

One guard nods. Jungkook and his father was in a meeting and disturbing them meant an act punished by death - yet when it came to you Jungkook wasn't one to not drop everything and go.

Namjoon follows close behind as the guards bring you into the infirmary. The few doctors, all different sizes and coming from different planets, scurry as you enter. "What happened?" one asked with wide eyes.

"She was attacked. We believe it was to harm the child. We need to ensure the child is fine."

The doctors nod their heads. It didn't take long for them to begin, all surroudning you to get a better look at your stomach.

Namjoon watches intently. He sees the bruises littering your skin, all coming from the child you're carrying. It took supplements shipped from another planet to ensure the fetus didn't kick and break your spine. It was as though the child was eating away at your life - yet you were adament on keeping it. The first time when the child kicked and broke a rib, Jungkook had desire to get rid of it - yet you refused.

"Is she healing up?" Namjoon asks.

"Yes. Luckily we got those supplements from Planet Tar." one doctor says. "The stab wound is slowly healing itself, yet she lost a lot of blood. We'll have to ensure she gets lots of fluid."

The door slams open and Namjoon just knows he has to drag Jungkook out of here when he becomes far too rowdy.

"Where is she?" Jungkook feels a hand wrap around his neck.

"She's alright. The fetus is alright." Namjoon quickly says, just to calm down the man. "We have to allow the doctors to do their jobs without interruptions."

"But-"

"Deal with Princess Azad."

Jungkook snaps his head to Namjoon. "What do you mean?" he asks. "Did she do this to Y/N?"

Namjoon swallows but nods. "We suspect she was trying to get rid of the child - Jungkook!"

Jungkook pushes past Namjoon to the gardens. He can hear the commotion - all screams coming from the guards and the faint crying from Princess Azad. As he arrives, her eyes meet his and she visibly flinches. "Prince Jung-"

"You tried to harm Y/N and my child?" Jungkook wraps a tentacle around the Princess's neck, not caring how aggressive he was acting.

Princess Azad chokes. Her hands tug and pull on the tentacles, but it was no avail.

"Jungkook, stop." Namjoon places a hand on his shoulder. "You'll cause a war."

"No one from that useless Planet can compare to us!" Jungkook roars - he drops the Princess's neck. She drops onto the ground with a thud, gasping loudly for air. "Get them off of this Planet!" the Guards scurry to do as the Princes say, not wishing to be caught in his rampage.

Princess Azad feels herself being dragged away, her father close behind her. She doesn't say anything to Jungkook - it was done for. She allows herself to be thrown into the small pod while he father is thrown into another one. The pod door closes and from the window she bitterly sees her reflection. Her hair is matted, eyes red from crying and her clothes battered and ripped up.

"Will Y/N be alright?" Jimin questions. "I don't know how Princess Azad got to the Royalty quarters. She was never permitted here."

Jungkook doesn't respond. His eyes are on the pods now floating into the air. The audacity of these people - coming to his Planet after all the fuss they caused over the year. Princess Azad was a hypocrite - calling herself a pacifist was laughable. She tried to kill you and his child - and for what he was unsure of. He had agreed to go along with the marriage, only to be done after the child was born. You needed more attention than he originally thought, especially after all the stress and near death experiences you were going through with this baby.

"Inform my father with the details." Jungkook says to no one in general, but everyone gets the hint. "Also let him know that the marriage between that bitch and I are off. Tell him I will be with Y/N if he likes it or not." Jimin eyes Jungkook. "If he's angry with that, prepare a pod for Y/N and I."

"Where would you go if you leave?" Jimin trails behind him. "You're the Prince-"

"I won't allow her to be harmed again." Jungkook states. "If my father is upset with me then he can be upset alone in this Palace."

You're blinking your eyes when Jungkook returns to the infimary. He's at your side, eyes scanning your figure for any sign of discomfort. "Everyone out!" he commands. "Y/N...what-"

"I'm fine." you nod your head. "I'm fine I didn't know she'll-"

"She's not here anymore." Jungkook places a hand on your stomach. He could feel the baby moving inside of you and sighs in relief. If only he could tell his father how incorrect he was about his child being nothing but a weakling. "I should have killed her."

You widen your eyes. "She's gone? For good?"

Jungkook nods. "I won't be marrying her and be tied to that Planet." he scoffs. "We will be leaving next if my father doesn't approve."

You take in the information Jungkook gives you. Placing a hand next to Jungkook's on your stomach, you actually smile. You were grateful for the supplements given to you months back from Planet Tar, because if it wasn't for them, you weren't sure you'd survived the way you stabbed yourself.

Jungkook smiles in return and now you can say you feel genuinely happy and complete - as sinister as it sounds. Now it wasn't anything holding you back from having Jungkook to yourself.

Part 3 (Power & Control) Coming Soon!

Power & Control (Teaser)

@silversparkles11 @seokjinkismet @bloodline1632 @darkuni63

#slave 19990319 #concubine 19990319 #explicit-tae #btsmasterlist2022 #bangtanwritershq #btswritersclub #bts smut #bangtan smut #alien jungkook #prince jungkook #arrange marriage

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thepenultimateword · 1 year

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Royalty Prompts

It was close, but Royalty won the poll, so here you guys go!

1. A human prince finds himself engaged to the Queen of monsters in order to build an alliance between their two kingdoms and ease tensions between their peoples.

2. Royal is a prisoner of war to the barbarians that sieged and nearly succeeded in taking their kingdom. Luckily, their armies have held them off so far, but Royal isn’t sure how long their people can stand without them. Or—the more they live amongst the barbarians—how much they deserve to keep their homeland based on its history.

3. A royal emissary is traveling on a starship to scout out the kingdom and planet of their Monarch's upcoming marriage alliance. Unbeknownst to them, the nice fellow passenger they've been building a friendship with is the Monarch's future spouse who is traveling home after attempting to learn the customs and culture of the Monarch's home planet. However, it seems there's been a misunderstanding about the emissary's identity: the future spouse believes they're the Monarch in disguise.

4. Overthrowing the kingdom was supposed to be the hard part, but now that the commoner-turned-royal is on the throne, they realize that being ruler is much more complicated, especially when half the kingdom wants them dead, and they don't know who they can trust.

5. The Kingdom's ruler is despised by everyone but their poison taster. Because of this, their food is poisoned almost daily, which is why the taster--secretly a creature who lives off consuming deadly poisons--likes them so much. They are living in the lap of luxury with this job, and all they have to do is keep switching out the bad food with something good.

6. A royal runs away from their kingdom and into the dark woods, inadvertently stepping into a faerie circle. The fae that steals them does not know what they’re getting until it’s too late: an incredibly spoiled, over-demanding, oblivious brat with no self-preservation skills.

7. The crown prince/princess has never felt the danger of living on the outskirts of the dark woods. In fact, they often take rides or trips into its depths and have never seen anything so strange as the rumors say. Unbeknownst to the kingdom, and themselves, the forest is biding it’s time with the future ruler’s ignorance, for they are a changeling switched at birth, and when the current monarch dies, it will finally be the otherwordlies’ turn to reign.

8. A magical assassin is sent to kill the current monarch of a kingdom, but when their window comes, they take pity on them and transform them into an animal instead. Now the assassin is masquerading a very bitter ruler as their familiar while lying to their teammates/bosses about their death. They also sort of wish the spell did not include the telepathic link, because they don’t need to hear the monarch calling them names on top of everything.

9. The second sibling of a royal family is kidnapped by a dragon who is very intent on keeping them. Once they get past the mortal terror of possibly being barbecued or eaten alive, it’s quite nice being treasured.

10. A too soft king/Queen is overthrown by conspirators and sacrificed to the mountain dragon by their superstitious people. The dragon takes the monarch away much to the people’s glee, but instead of killing them, they take them back home to the mountain peak. The dragon is horrified that these humans can keep sacrificing their own, especially their own ruler.

11. A royal guard must flee a recently usurped kingdom with their young royal charge. Their only hope is that one day, when the royal is old enough, they might be able to return to take the kingdom back. In the meantime, they must go into hiding. A chance encounter with a morally gray city thief gets them new identities, a place to stay, and more found family than they bargained for.

12. The crown prince/princess has always had a weak constitution, so they see the royal apothecary daily for tinctures and elixirs. Their childhood apothecary retired a couple years ago, replaced by a younger apothecary they once apprenticed. With their constant contact and the apothecary’s complete understanding of medical problems that others find tiresome, the royal can’t help but grow attached.

#prompt #prompt list #royalty #fantasy #fantasci #fantasci writing #pen’s prompts #arrange marriage #royalty x royalty #royal x servant #writblr #writeblr #writers of tumblr #writing prompt

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indialadina · 5 months

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One of my favorite scenes from chapter 9 because childish warlords give me life!!!!

This is one of my favorite fanfics and favorite authors too. Give Jien your love!!!

#lawlu #trafalgar law #trafalgar one piece #trafalgardwaterlaw #luffy #law x luffy #monkey d. luffy #one piece #ao3 #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanart #jelousy #warlord #roronoa zoro #one piece zoro #zoro #arrange marriage #angst

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mysafehaneul · 8 months

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IV.AQUAMARINE

CHAPTER 4: SHADOWS AND COURTS

A/N: I apologize for the late update a lot went down last week, my aunt passed away and a shit ton of family drama which left me very emotionally and mentally drained. I hope you guys like this chapter and i look forward to read your comments. Happy Reading!

P.S. Thank you for liking Aquamarine so far, every like every reblog means the world to me. I will be taking a Hiatus till October as I have my mid-terms at the end of September.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

JEON WONWOO X READER

WORDS: 8.5k+

GENRE: ARRANGE CONTRACT MARRIAGE AU! ENEMIES TO LOVERS!

Angst, Fluff, Smut (in future chapters not this one).

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Choices and changes are two things that are constant in every individual's life. Choices a person makes in certain situations can lead to a change that could be for better or for worse, yet these are the two things that no one can escape. In the gentle twilight of the city, a melancholic shadow casts a shadow over the newlyweds. The day had been a whirlwind of emotions, a crescendo of joy and celebration that now seemed to dissolve into a distant memory, like the last fading notes of a haunting melody.

The penthouse, perched high above the bustling city, offered a view that would usually have captivated anyone. Yet, for Y/N, it was merely a backdrop to the emotions swirling within her. As she stepped into the luxurious space, her heels dropped to the floor with a soft thud. The scent of freshly polished floors, infused with a subtle lemony fragrance, wafted through the air. It was Wonwoo's home, a place she had never been before, and it felt unfamiliar.

Wonwoo watched her, his eyes tracing her movements. His tie loosened, his collar unbuttoned, and he observed her with a silent curiosity. Y/N's fingers brushed against her temples, undoing the carefully arranged hairdo that had adorned her throughout the day.

"Nice view," she offered, her voice carrying a hint of detachment.

"Thanks," Wonwoo replied as he headed to the fridge. "Care for some water?"

Her head shook in a gentle decline, and she ventured further into the spacious penthouse. Wonwoo followed, his eyes never leaving her. There was a palpable change in her demeanour, an echo of a grand celebration that had given way to a profound stillness.

"The post-wedding blues," he mused, his voice a soft melody.

Y/N nodded, her gaze distant, as if searching for something lost in the past hours. She settled onto the plush couch, her fingers absentmindedly playing with her earrings.

"Why do I feel like your father hates me a little now? Wonwoo inquired, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"After the stunt you pulled today, any father ought to," she retorted, her tone laced with challenge.

Wonwoo, taken aback by her directness, cleared his throat. Y/N's audacity both intrigued and amused him.

"Well," he continued, "it was an emergency''. He couldn't help but feel a sting of guilt.

"Hmm," Y/N hummed, her gaze fixed on her earrings. "I know you're going to maintain your vices, but didn't I tell you to do a better job at hiding them?"

Wonwoo's silence was his confession.

Their eyes locked in a brief, challenging exchange that made Wonwoo realise why she was so respected in her field. She was a force to be reckoned with, a fact he had always found exhilarating.

Fiddling with her earrings again, she cleared her throat. "Wonwoo..."

"Pardon, what did you say?" he asked, momentarily caught in his thoughts.

"Room. Where is my room? I want to rest; my legs are killing me."

He was quick to respond, his voice gentle. "Ah, right. The master bedroom is the left door from straight."

"You didn't have to give me the master bedroom. We would've moved to Serene Villa by the end of next month after we brought Noel here."

The room seemed to hang in silence as he mulled over her words, the implications of what she'd said sinking in.

"Right? So where is your room?"

"Where yours is."

The confusion was clear in her eyes as she sought clarification.

"Pardon, what did you say?"

"My room is where your room is. I forgot to inform the staff to clean up the home gym."

"Home gym?"

"Yeah, the home gym used to be the guestroom."

"So?"

"So, you have to either sleep on the couch or you can take the bedroom. But don't worry; I'll sleep on the couch. You can take the room."

"Of course, I will take the bedroom, Wonwoo. You have this huge house, and you couldn't manage to clear out one room for me? That too, for just one week before we leave for Zurich... unbelievable."

He removed his blazer and started unbuttoning his sleeves, as if the act of undressing would ease his fatigue. "Listen, two weeks ago, I didn't even think that I'd get married, okay? I said you could take the bedroom. What's the big deal? And what's your family's obsession with words whose literal meaning is tranquilly?"

"What's your family's obsession with naming their projects after plants?"

"It's been seven hours since we got married, and you're already coming after families."

"Well, you started it."

"Y/n, I am tired, okay? And I'm pretty sure you are too. I'll call Alexandria to clear up the room tomorrow. So please, you can freshen up and rest in my room. Or is it that you're afraid to sleep alone?"

You sighed, your shoulders drooping as you got up from the couch. He nonchalantly placed his blazer on the counter and took a sip from the cold bottle.

He paused, a mischievous spark in his eyes, and continued, "Well, technically, it's our room now. I can even hold your hand until you fall asleep."

You didn't have the energy to entertain his playful banter. With a weary expression, you turned and headed towards the bedroom.

"Wow, not even an offer to let me sleep on the bedroom couch? He teased.

You stopped abruptly, irritation bubbling up within you. "You have 17 housing societies and 6 hotels across the country. I'm pretty sure there's a bed available somewhere in your vast empire. If not, you can always return to the hotel where you took your little drunk, Mrs. Shoddy NDA."

A sly grin tugged at the corners of Wonwoo's lips. "It's quite a unique wedding night when the wife suggests her husband sleep elsewhere. If anything, I smell a little jealousy."

"Fuck off, will you?" She retorted and slammed the bedroom door with a resounding thud.

"Asshole," she muttered behind the closed door.

The exchange left him feeling like he had just been painted with a scorching stroke of her fire, leaving his senses tingling and his ears ablaze with her presence.

...

In the hushed serenity of the midnight hour, you emerged from Wonwoo's adjoined bathroom, wrapped in one of his bathrobes. There was a subtle irony in the fact that he hadn't even bothered to ask the housekeeper to unpack your suitcase. His room spoke volumes about him, a blend of textures and shades, with its textured black wall adorned with a round mirror that emitted a soft, captivating glow from the lights behind it. The room's centrepiece was the bed, perfectly centred on an oak platform, with a grey round carpet resting beneath it.

The room was a harmonious blend of white and wood tones, creating an atmosphere that felt distinctly Wonwoo. On the left wall, two captivating paintings added depth and character, while the bathroom on the right continued the motif of black and white with impeccable finesse.

As you walked into the bathroom, you couldn't help but admire its sleek design. The colour scheme of black and white continued here, creating a sense of modern elegance. The bathtub beckoned invitingly, promising moments of relaxation and contemplation. Large mirrors adorned the walls, reflecting your image from multiple angles.

The shower was enclosed in glass, giving it an open and airy feel. A smooth marble slab inside the shower caught your attention, and though you couldn't fathom why someone would want to sit in the shower, and you are being honest with yourself, you don't want to think about it either.

Every detail of this room, just like the man who occupied it, was a meticulously chosen piece of artistry. It felt as if you had stepped into his sanctuary, a place where every element was thoughtfully curated to create an atmosphere of serenity and sophistication.

The scent of his products lingered in the air, a reminder that this was indeed his domain. You could almost imagine him here, surrounded by the luxuries he had chosen for himself. Standing there in his bathroom, wrapped in his robe, you couldn't help but feel a strange mix of emotions. The room was a reflection of the man you had just married, and though it was foreign territory for now, you wondered how much of yourself you would eventually weave into this beautifully crafted space.

Your hair cascaded gently on the silk pillow, and while the bed was unfamiliar, it cradled you with a comfort you couldn't deny. The scent of Wonwoo, as if woven into the very fabric of the sheets, enveloped you. As you closed your eyes, the events of the day replayed in your mind.

Surrounded by your chatty cousin and aunt, talk swirled around your cousin's upcoming nuptials in Paris. Across the room, at the other end of the dining hall, stood Wonwoo, a glass of white wine in hand. The glint of the engagement ring you had given him caught your eye as he conversed with Chan and one of his cousins by the bar. Rachel, your trusted aide, appeared at your side and whispered discreetly, "I think you should see this."

You excused yourself from the table and joined Rachel on the balcony, where Wonwoo overheard your conversation with Rema when his family came for dinner. He was still within your peripheral vision, and as Rachel brought out her tablet and displayed pictures of Wonwoo carrying Eleanor into his hotel, you couldn't help but feel a surge of emotions.

You handed the tablet back to Rachel with a firm command: "Kill these pictures; make sure no one can get their hands on them."

"Yes, boss," she replied, and you returned to your seat at the head of the table, doing your best to mask the turmoil brewing within you. You ignored the puzzled gazes that were beginning to notice your intense demeanor, as if they could sense that something was amiss. Wonwoo seemed like he was about to approach you, but his father intercepted him, leading him away from the party to have a private conversation in the library.

You clenched your eyes shut, trying to suppress the unsettling emotions that threatened to surface. You reminded yourself that loyalty from Wonwoo was something he didn't owe you, except in the context of your business partnership and Noel's adoption. The weariness finally overcame you, and you drifted into an uneasy sleep, your restless thoughts still churning beneath the surface.

As you were on the verge of succumbing to slumber, the sharp ring of your phone pierced through the silence of the room.

...

It was a mere five minutes away from 3 a.m. when a distant voice called out to Wonwoo. Exhausted from the long day, sleep had come easily to him. Wonwoo was accustomed to living alone and even preferred it. At the age of 14, he had moved to London to study at St. Augustine Boarding School for Boys. Though he hadn't seen you since you entered his room, he was vaguely aware of your presence in his house. It provided him with a respite from his otherwise hectic and crowded life.

Before drifting off to sleep, his father's words in the Serenity Mansion library echoed in his mind. ''Y/N is important to us. I'm sure you don't want to wash your hands off that land. So, get your act together and make her fall—"

Suddenly, someone began shaking his body, calling his name.

"Wonwoo?"

''Wonwoo! Wake up!"

Startled, he jolted awake, momentarily disoriented about where he was and who was standing before him.

"Y/n," his voice hoarse from sleep and confusion, "what's wrong?"

You stood near the bed, your warm hand still resting on his forearm. He hadn't noticed his shirtless upper body. Your body language conveyed anxiety, as if something deeply disturbing had occurred. He adjusted his position, and you withdrew your hand, placing it by your side. He propped himself up with his hand behind his head and began to close his eyes again.

"Scared? Want me to hold your hand?"

"Will you shut up? I'm going to Switzerland."

This statement roused him fully.

"Why? Weren't we supposed to go next week?"

"We were, but Jeonghan called. He said that Noella's brother came to Noel's school. We don't know what he said to him, but he has had a high fever since last night and has been continuously calling my name. I have to leave."

You began to get dressed as Wonwoo followed you, still in a sleepy daze.

"I've called Racheal since my pilot is on maternity leave. I'll head to the airport and book a flight. I know this is all—"

"Y/n, please, let me process this. You're leaving for Switzerland right now. Okay, but can't you wait it out? Kids fall sick all the time; maybe it's just a cold. If he gets better by the morning, then we can proceed according to the schedule."

"Wonwoo, that kid lost both of his parents at the age of five. You can't compare his mental state with every other kid, and I'm informing you that I am leaving."

You emerged from the bathroom with your hair pulled back in a ponytail and your phone ringing on the bed. You walked over to the walk-in wardrobe and pulled out your suitcase. You answered your phone.

"Okay, bring it to the airport. I'll meet you directly there."

"Who was it?" Wonwoo inquired.

"My driver."

"Listen, Wonwoo, I know this is really out of the blue, but I have to go. Noel needs me. I'll be in touch, okay? Just tell everyone that there was an urgent matter I had to attend to at the Switzerland branch. We'll discuss Oasis after all of this wraps up."

Wonwoo threw his head back and exhaled through his nose. "Y/n, it's almost 3 a.m. in the morning. I've only had half an hour of sleep, and people with cameras are always hounding us. Are you even thinking about how they'll twist this?"

"I know, and in all honesty, I don't care. I bet if it were you, then no one would even bat an eye. So—"

You put on your mask and walked out of the room with your suitcase in tow.

"I'll be in touch," you called out before the sound of the door closing echoed through the now-empty penthouse.

Wonwoo sat down on the bed, threw himself back, and rubbed his face with his hands as he groaned. Why is she so stubborn? He got up to search for his phone.

....

Since when did he start caring about what others think of me or us? You retorted sharply during your drive to the airport. As you were hurriedly confirming your ticket at the check-in counter for the fast lane, you realised that only economy seats were available. With a resigned sigh, you took one. deciding that it was the best option under the circumstances. As you worked on your laptop, the announcement for boarding began.

The gate was on the verge of closing when you felt someone take the seat next to you. Glancing up, you were surprised to see Wonwoo. Raising an eyebrow, you inquired, "What are you doing here?"

He replied, "It would be very unbecoming if I let my wife leave in less than 24 hours of our wedding ."

Your thoughts from earlier hung in the air, and you muttered, "Didn't think you gave a damn about what others think.'' Wonwoo's expression darkened at your comment, realising that he might have overreacted.

Throughout the flight, both of you worked on your laptops, immersed in your own worlds. The constant drone of the plane's engines made you drowsy, and you eventually dozed off. Wonwoo, however, found it impossible to sleep on flights, especially in the cramped economy seats.

He glanced at you, your head resting on his shoulder as you slept soundly. He noticed the long, delicate lashes framing your closed eyes, and a soft smile crept onto his lips.

An older woman seated on the other side of him leaned over and struck up a conversation. "Is she your wife?"

Wonwoo nodded. "We got married today, or, shall I say, yesterday."

The woman smiled warmly and congratulated him. "She is very pretty."

Wonwoo couldn't help but agree with a smile of his own. "I know." He went back to his laptop, adjusting your head gently on his shoulder. As the plane soared through the night sky.

....

The sun hung high in the sky as you and Wonwoo stepped off the plane, greeted by the crisp air of Switzerland. You glanced at him, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. "I hope you brought sweaters."

Wonwoo chuckled, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "It's not my first time here, you know. I've been here thrice."

"Good for you," you replied, your tone light, as you led the way towards the awaiting car. "Our car is over there."

Victor, your lawyer and good friend who takes care of matters in your Switzerland branch, stood by the car, his tall frame and salt-and-pepper hair making him a striking figure. Rema, your attorney, would be working closely with him on this case.

As you introduced Victor to Wonwoo, his eyes widened slightly in recognition. "Well, Jeonghan is not going to like this."

"Jeonghan?" Wonwoo inquired, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"He's Noel's Godfather," Victor explained, his expression revealing a sense of intrigue.

Wonwoo couldn't help but wonder why Jeonghan's reaction to your marriage seemed significant. Did he hold feelings for you, or was there something else that would make him react strongly to this news?

With Victor now aware of Wonwoo's identity and the potential implications, you all piled into the car. The drive through the city of Zurich was breathtaking, with picturesque streets and stunning architecture passing by.

During the journey, Wonwoo couldn't help but ponder Victor's cryptic comment about Jeonghan. He turned to you with a playful glint in his eyes. "Jeonghan, huh? Is there something you're not telling me about this Godfather?"

You leaned back in your seat, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Oh, you know, just a bit of friendly rivalry. He's probably just upset that he didn't get an invite to our whirlwind wedding."

''JJ hates staying out of the loop'' Victor added from the front seat.

You chuckled, "Well, it's not like we had a choice with that one. But we'll have to make it up to him somehow, as i come bearing gifts."

As the car continued its journey through the streets of Zurich, you couldn't help but wonder if Jeonghan's reaction would be the only surprise waiting for you in Switzerland.

...

Victor's sleek BMW glided to a stop on the cobblestone driveway, nestled in one of the quieter, less touristy corners - Enge. You tumbled out of the car with Wonwoo and Victor following suit, suitcases in tow. You approached the front cerulean door and swung it open, entering Jeonghan's and Victor's home. The decor was a whimsical blend of colours and styles, with a baby blue Persian rug that flirted with salmon-white walls. A light grey couch adorned with metallic golden accents sat regally in the centre of the room.

Jeonghan, perched cross-legged with a magazine in his lap and a coffee mug in hand, sensed your approach. He abandoned his reading material and cup, rushing over to envelop you in a bear hug, which you reciprocated wholeheartedly.

"JJ!" you exclaimed, your voice muffled by his shoulder.

He drew back, holding your shoulders, to examine you. "Good Lord, girl, were you on a sleep strike for the last two weeks?"

"Something like that," you replied, undoing your scarf. "How's Noel?"

"Well, the fever's still hanging around, but he's asleep now after the doctor gave him an injection.''

"Any idea why Nikolai was there?"

He shrugged. "I didn't get a chance to ask. The teachers just told me..."

His eyes wandered past you and locked onto Wonwoo, who had just entered the house. Jeonghan's eyes widened, and he couldn't help but voice his curiosity.

"Who's that hunk?"

"Who?" you turned, and then back to Jeonghan. "Oh, that's... that's Wonwoo."

"Your new assistant?"

You chuckled, shaking your head. "No, he's my husband."

"YOUR WHAT?!" Jeonghan's exclamation could have shattered glass with its sheer volume. "YOU GOT MARRIED AND DIDN'T TELL ME? I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS--''

"Jeonghan, calm down," you coaxed, leading him to the couch. "I know this may come as a shock to you."

"Ya bet," he huffed, settling onto the couch.

Wonwoo entered the house, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement. You signalled him to come closer.

"JJ, this is Jeon Wonwoo—my, my husband. And Wonwoo, this is Jeonghan, my best friend and Noel's godfather."

Wonwoo extended his hand for a handshake, which Jeonghan eyed sceptically before reluctantly accepting. "Nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

Jeonghan just nodded in acknowledgment, folding his arms. “Nice to meet you too, and i heard nothing about you.’’He couldn't hold back his curiosity, though.

"How long have you two been together?"

"Oh, we met—"

"A year!" You cut Wonwoo off, your voice brimming with faux enthusiasm.

Jeonghan eyed you suspiciously before stating, "Why the sudden wedding? Are you pregnant?"

"Yes! And they're quadruplets," you replied sarcastically, a playful tone in your voice.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes. "You think you funny, huh?''

"Ya, I'm the funniest."

"You didn't—wait, how can you date for a year when you were here all the time—" Before you could respond, Jeonghan connected the dots himself. "Ah, so this is the reason why you went back home every two weeks, every alternate month."

"Hmm," you and Wonwoo exchanged amused glances he's so far from the truth, exhaustion showing on both your faces.

"I have a few questions..."

"And we'll answer them later, Dad. But first, I want to see Noel. Can you show Wonwoo the guest room? We haven't had a chance to rest since the wedding yesterday."

"YOU GOT MARRIED YESTERDAY?" You hurried off to find Noel, leaving a flabbergasted Jeonghan in your wake.

You turned the doorknob, granting access to Noel's room. The iron-man-themed décor caught your eye, with figurines strewn about the floor and notebooks scattered on his study table. You made your way to his bedside and gently began caressing his forehead. His cheeks were still warm and flushed, and he took short, pouted breaths in his slumber. The effect of the injection appeared to be wearing off as he stirred from his sleep.

"Tante," he asked, as if you were a mere hallucination.

"Hi, baby boy."

"How are you here?"

"How can I not be? When my baby calls for me, I must show up. Is that even a question?"

You were about to hug him when you remembered you were still in your airport clothes. "It's alright, bud. You can go back to sleep."

He tightly grasped your hand, his voice tinged with worry. "What if I wake up and you're not here?"

"Then pinch yourself awake from that bad dream and find me. I'll always be there."

He brought your hand to his chest, finding solace in your presence as he dozed off again. You reached for the intercom near the side table, and after a few minutes, there was a polite knock at the door.

"Enter."

A woman in her mid-40s, her auburn hair neatly tucked into a low bun, entered the room. Her sturdy build and professional demeanour spoke of competence.

"Hello, Leila."

"Good afternoon, Ma'am."

"How have you been?"

"Good."

"That's nice. Get me some cold water and two towels. I'll wipe Noel's body and take out his fresh pajamas. Also, prepare some chicken soup with carrots and onions. Don't forget to toast the bread."

"Madam, leave it to me. I'll take care of Little Master. You must be tired after such a long flight."

"It's alright, Leila. Just do as you're told. And send someone to clean my house, will you?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

She paused for a moment and then added, "Madam..."

"Hmm?" You responded without taking your eyes off Noel.

"I'm glad you're back early. Little Master missed you a lot. And congratulations on your wedding."

You met her gaze briefly, your expression softening, before turning your attention back to Noel and nodding in acknowledgement of her words.

After feeding Noel, you made your way to the living room, where Leila informed you that Victor had returned to his office, and Jeonghan was engrossed in his study, presumably giving an online lecture. With Noel still recovering, it wouldn't be right to move him, so you and Wonwoo would be staying in the guestroom for the night.

In the guestroom, you sat down on a seater near the dresser, your feet perched on a small table, your fingers pinching your forehead in thought. You could hear the shower running nearby. Closing your eyes, you tried to relax.

The door opened, and a body emerged from it. Wonwoo stood before you, wrapped in nothing but a towel cinched around his waist and another draped over his shoulders. Little droplets cascaded down his hair and chest as he walked towards you.

"You're here," he remarked.

"Yeah," you replied without opening your eyes.

"I thought you'd sleep somewhere else."

"Can't do. Victor and Jeonghan have no idea about the real motive of this marriage."

"I figured as much.'' Wonwoo turned his back to you, preparing to change into fresh clothes.

You opened your eyes, discreetly analysing the muscles of his back. "So, he works out, huh? Not bad."

"I can feel you ogling."

''Sorry, I didn't mean to."

"I didn't say I mind."

You responded with a nonchalant "hmm" and made your way to the bathroom.

"Do you not feel awkward after seeing my body?" Wonwoo called after you.

"Why should I feel awkward? You showed me your body."

"You have a response to everything, don't you?"

"Yes, that's how conversations usually go. If you want to eat something, there's an intercom near the side table on the right-hand side. Leila will bring it."

"Nah, I want to sleep. I haven't slept a wink since yesterday."

"Okay," you said and shut the bathroom door behind you. The bathroom still held the warmth from Wonwoo's shower. You quickly shed your clothes and stepped under the hot water, the sensation easing the knots and tensions in your body. In the midst of it, you couldn't help but wonder, "Why am I always so at ease in his presence?"

By the time you finished your shower, your body felt relaxed, but fatigue had finally caught up with you. You found Wonwoo sleeping curled up on the left corner of the spacious bed. Since it was a king-sized bed, you arranged the pillows in the middle and lay down on the right side without overthinking it. As you rested your head on the pillow, all conscious thought faded away, and sleep enveloped you.

....

The sudden slam of the door startled you, making you stir slightly. You felt a warm breath on your neck and a gentle weight on your waist. Just as you were falling back to sleep, someone hopped onto your bed, jolting you awake. Wonwoo's nose nuzzled into the back of your head, and his arms wrapped around your waist. Where did the pillow go? You didn't get a chance to wonder further when Noel sat on your stomach.

"Oomph, El," you grunted.

The sound of hurried steps echoed in the room, and Jeonghan's voice followed, "El, you shouldn't barge into a couple's room like that. You'll be traumatised for life."

He entered the doorway with his eyes tightly shut. "Aren't you an eloquent speaker, JJ?''you retorted.

"Are you both decent?" he asked cautiously.

Wonwoo groaned and moved his hand away from you, turning to his side and still sleeping. You were busy glaring at Jeonghan for the untimely intrusion when you noticed Noel staring down at the man's shirtless back. You patted Noel's thigh to get his attention, and he turned to you, asking in French

"Who is he?"

"He is my husband and your uncle."

"But I already have an uncle!"

"Who?" you asked, confused. A glance passed between you and Jeonghan, who stood by the door.

"He came to my school and said that he is my mama's brother, and he will take me to his house, where he lives with my grandpa."

"So what did you say?"

"I said I wanted to live with you."

A warmth spread in your heart as Noel laid down on your chest, hugging you. He continued, "But he said you won't want to live with me when you get married and have a family of your own."

Every ounce of drowsiness left your body, replaced by slow-building fury. "That would never happen," you assured him, rubbing his back as you gazed up at the ceiling.

"If you're awake, dinner's ready. Come and eat it, El. Let's go," Jeonghan said, his voice low and tinged with worry.

You looked at Jeonghan and nodded. Turning your face, you kissed Noel on the back of the head. As you did, you met Wonwoo's eyes, looking deeply at you with his tousled hair. He was still lying on his stomach, but his head was turned towards you, and your heartbeat quickened.

Before you could say anything, his phone blared, and he turned to pick it up. "Yes, Chan," he answered, his voice hoarse. You got up, carrying Noel in your arms, and left the room, the unresolved tension lingering in the air.

....

It had been a week since the two of you arrived in Zurich. After that eventful dinner, you, Wonwoo, and Noel went to your house across the street. Since Leila was your housekeeper, she took care of cleaning and occasionally cooked for Jeonghan, who preferred to cook for himself and Victor. That dinner had been quite a grilling session for Wonwoo. He found himself caught in the crossfire, with Noel and Jeonghan bombarding him with questions. The poor man had been munching on his lettuce like an innocent sheep, occasionally answering their inquiries. You and Victor exchanged empathetic glances at each other and at Wonwoo.

The next three days had been a blur, with both of you barely meeting each other. You were busy with work and meetings in your Switzerland office, while he worked from your home office. One evening, as you both sat down to eat together, he broached the topic.

"I know you said we'd deal with Oasis once all this wraps up, but I was thinking of holding an investors meeting on Saturday."

"I don't think so," you replied, leaning back and taking a sip of your drink.

"Why?" He asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"I think holding an investor meeting face-to-face would be better," you explained. "Rich people have no lack of money to burn, but they do give preference to sincerity. If we both host a dinner at our new home and show them our sincerity towards the project and somewhat toward each other, don't you think that would be more beneficial?"

You paused, waiting for his response, and then added, "Isn't that also the reason you got married? To improve your reputation and win more investors for your new project in Kyoto?"

He nodded thoughtfully and raised an eyebrow. "I guess there's nothing wrong with that. Well, then, I'll inform Chan to arrange a meeting with the architects."

"Hmm," you said, nodding in agreement, and went back to your food.

It was the night before the trial. You were reading Noel a bedtime story about a wise old owl, an owl who listened to individuals and their problems. By the time you reached the second chapter, Noel was already asleep. Kissing his forehead, you left the room and noticed the lights were still on in the study. You assumed Wonwoo was working late again. Your impromptu change of plans had put a strain on his work-life due to different time zones, making you feel a little guilty. But then again, it was his choice to come here.

Rema had arrived that morning and was now sleeping in the room that Wonwoo used to occupy. Tonight, he'd be sleeping in your room. You had offered to take the couch, but he insisted otherwise.

You were done with your nighttime routine when you exited the ensuite bathroom and saw Wonwoo standing on the balcony, smoking a cigarette and talking on his phone.

He noticed your movement from the corner of his eye but continued speaking into the phone, "What's the point of living in one of the most secure and luxurious apartments in the country if you all can't even keep a woman from trespassing?"

He pressed his thumb against his forehead, the cigarette burning. "Well then, take care of it, Chan."

He ended the call and put the phone in the pocket of his relaxed trousers.

"Hello there, stranger," you greeted him.

"Hi," he replied, puffing out a plume of smoke.

You sat on the dresser to brush your hair, and he continued to gaze down at the park, visible from your balcony.

"Did work end early?" you asked.

He huffed a smile and said, "Does it ever end?"

You picked up your lotion and started applying it to your arms. You shook your head in denial and commented, "Tomorrow's going to be a long day. Since we've applied for the fast-track court, the hearing won't take long. I just hope—"

You took a breath and continued, "I just hope we get this over with and get Noel away from these people."

You felt a comforting hand on your shoulder, and when you looked up in the mirror, you met Wonwoo's eyes. His voice softened as he reassured you, "Don't worry. You've worked hard, and nobody can take Noel away from you."

You smiled back. "I hope so."

He nodded and made his way to the bathroom.

"Wonwoo," you called out, making him stop in his tracks. "What's wrong?"

He sighed, retracing his steps and sitting on the bed. Your eyes met in the mirror as he began, "Eleanor, Tresspassed, and trashed the apartment''

''And no one did anything?'' you asked, shock evident on your face.

''Well, she is the wife of politician Lee Joonsuk; only a man with a death wish would touch her''

''I didn't know you were suicidal, wonwoo''

''Look at you and your elite sense of humour. I meant in the legal sense.'' You nodded in understanding, but the curiosity got the better of you, and you asked, ''Whats her story?'' His head shot up, and he looked at you intently for a minute, then began to share his love story—how he had met Eleanor in college in London. She came from a poor family but aspired to have a career in politics. After working under Lee Joonsuk's party, she had drawn his keen interest, and before he knew it, he was returning from his grandmother's funeral to hear that his girlfriend was marrying into one of the most powerful conglomerate families.

For a few years, it seemed nice for her, but the spark eventually faded. Their marriage had turned into just another one in society. However, neither of them could leave—their marriage served her political career, and his wealth had no end.

"So, what does she want from you?" you asked.

He smiled ruefully. "Attention."

You had no words, but Wonwoo tilted his head and said, "Wow, I never talk about these things with Chan, and he's with me 22/7."

"22/7?" you inquired, confused.

"Yes, two hours for sleep," he explained, making both of you laugh.

"Well, I am the old, wise owl; people like talking to me."

He hummed and made his way to the bathroom.

....

The drive to the court was far from easy for you. Jeonghan, Victor, Rema, and you were all packed into one car, with Leila, Noel, and Wonwoo in another. Rema and Victor discussed and exchanged pointers, trying to keep the atmosphere as calm as possible. Jeonghan held your hand, providing a comforting presence as the tension mounted.

Finally, when your number was called, Leila and Noel were escorted to the witness room while the four of you entered the courtroom. Rema and Victor took their seats on the right, while the Bulavias occupied the left side. As the judge announced, "Case Number 432: Custody of Noel Hong, L/N vs. Bulavia," a wave of anticipation washed over the room.

Your eyes met Nikolai Bulavia's, a man with platinum blonde hair, a family crest ring, a sharp jawline, and a strong build. He looked at you with those same unsettling eyes that resembled Noella's. A sneer crept onto his face as he observed you, then he shifted his gaze to Wonwoo. You were determined not to give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd gotten under your skin, so you looked away.

Wonwoo, who had been busy typing on his phone, leaned in and whispered, "Don't worry, we've got this."

His warm hand rested above your knee, offering you the reassurance you needed in this nerve-wracking moment.

Judge Andrew's, a man in his 60s with a strenuous personality and gravel voice, commanded, ''Order in the court!''

The room fell into silence as the judge called for order. You sat nervously, flanked by Rema and Victor on one side and the Bulavias on the other.

Bulavia's Attorney stood up and walked in the centre of the room and began addressing the judge, ''Your Honour, we'd like to begin by stating that the existence of the child in question was deliberately kept hidden from the Bulavia family. We were not informed about Noel's existence until recently.

Rema, following the suit, countered, ''Your Honour, if I may, the decision to keep Noel away from the Bulavias was based on the explicit wishes of his deceased parents. They wanted to ensure that Noel was never exposed to the Bulavia family.''

Judge Andrews nodded and said, ''Let's proceed, please.''

Bulavia Attorney added, ''Furthermore, Your Honour, we'd like to argue that Ms. [Your Last Name] has an unstable lifestyle. She's constantly on the move between her home country and here, neglecting to be a constant figure in Noel's life and leaving him at the care of her friends and house help, and it appears that she only wants Noel because of the substantial property and shares left in his name by his deceased mother.

Rema, walking closer to the judge's stand, said, '' Your honour, that's simply not true. My client has always had Noel's best interests at heart. She is a renown businesswoman who travels due to work. The properties and shares were entrusted to him, and she's been managing them responsibly.''

Bulavia Attorney countered, ''Your Honour, we have reason to believe that Ms. [Your Last Name]'s intentions are not as noble as she claims. We request that these financial assets be temporarily placed under the Bulavia family's supervision until this matter is settled.''

'' Your honour, we vehemently oppose this request. It is clear that Noel's life was under threat from the Bulavia family. We have evidence to support this claim.''

Bulavia Attorney, who was quiet confident, is now left perplexed at this new revelation: ''Evidence? What evidence?''

Rema is standing, holding a folder. ''Your Honour, we have obtained CCTV footage from 2016 showing Mr. Nikolai Bulavia getting out of his car with a baseball bat. We also have medical records and photographs that depict the violence Mr. Nikolai Bulavia inflicted upon Noel's late parents. He even attacked Joshua, Noel's father, upon learning of his sister's pregnancy.''

The Bulavia attorney was now taken aback. ''Your honour, those incidents were isolated, and Mr. Bulavia deeply regrets his actions. But that doesn't justify Ms. [Your Last Name]'s decision to keep the child hidden from us.''

When Rema further added, "Your Honour, it's clear that the Bulavia family's violent history posed a threat to Noel's safety. We argue that his parents' decision to keep him away from this environment was justified.''

The courtroom buzzed with tension as both sides presented their arguments. The judge listened carefully, fully aware that this was a critical decision that would shape young Noel's future.

After a thoughtful pause, Judge Andrews began his verdict: ''I've reviewed the presented evidence and heard both sides of the argument. It is clear that there was a history of violence and danger to the child's life from the Bulavia family. While these incidents may have been isolated, Noel Hong's safety and well-being are paramount in this case.''

''Your honour, we assure you that we can provide a safe and nurturing environment for the child.''

Judge Andrews firmly cut Bulavia's attorney off. ''Nevertheless, the evidence presented suggests that the child's life was at risk in your presence. Therefore, the court rules in favour of Ms. [Your Last Name] retaining custody of Noel Hong. Furthermore, the financial assets will remain under her supervision.''

The Bulavias appeared crestfallen, while you and your legal team shared a collective sigh of relief.

The judge continues, ''I will also issue a restraining order against Mr. Nikolai Bulavia, ensuring he maintains a safe distance from the child and Ms. [Your Last Name].''

Rema, who was now standing next to you, whispered, ''We did it, Y/N.''

You nodded, tears of relief brimming in your eyes. Wonwoo, who had been a pillar of support throughout the trial, gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

Wonwoo leaned to whisper, ''I told you we'd get through this.''

''The court finds in Favour of the petitioner, Y/N L/N, for the adoption of Noel Hong''

A wave of relief washed over you as you heard the judge's words. It was official. Noel was yours, and he was safe from the Bulavia family's influence.

Judge Andrew looks at you and Wonwoo and says, ''It is the court's hope that Noel Hong will now be provided with a loving and stable environment where he can thrive and grow.''

You nodded, tears of joy and gratitude filling your eyes. Wonwoo squeezed your hand, sharing in your overwhelming emotions.

And concluded, ''Congratulations, Mrs. L/N and Mr. Jeon. The court approves the adoption of Noel Hong by Y/N L/N, and we wish your family all the best for the future''

As you rushed into the witness room after the court's decision, your heart swelled with an overwhelming mix of emotions. There, sitting in the midst of this legal battle, was the small figure of Noel, your precious little boy. You spread your arms wide, your eyes welling up with tears of joy, and Noel immediately sensed the invitation. With a wide smile on his face, he practically leaped into your arms.

You held him close, feeling the warmth of his little body against yours, his heartbeat in sync with your own. In that moment, as you held Noel, you realized something profound. It wasn't just the fact that he was Joshua's son or Noella's child that made you love him so deeply. It was simply Noel, a bright and beautiful soul who had come into your life and filled it with an extraordinary kind of love.

As you hugged him tightly, you whispered softly into his ear, "I told you, Noel, no one can ever take you away from Tante." Your voice carried all the love and reassurance that a child could ever need, and Noel, with his small arms wrapped around you, knew that he was home, safe and cherished in your embrace.

As Wonwoo watched you holding Noel, something profound and deeply touching happened within him. He felt a crack forming in the walls he had built around his heart, a wall that had been constructed over years of self-preservation and ambition. In that moment, as he witnessed the pure and selfless love you had for Noel, he realized the depth of your character.

Beneath the surface of the successful and driven persona he had seen before, there was a person who was genuinely selfless. It wasn't just about protecting Noel for the sake of his inheritance or securing a business deal; it was about providing love, care, and a safe haven for a child who needed it.

This realization shook him to his core. It was as if he had stumbled upon a hidden treasure, a quality in you that he had never fully appreciated before. In that moment, Wonwoo couldn't help but admire and respect you even more. He knew he had witnessed something extraordinary and rare – an act of pure, selfless love that had the power to touch and transform the hearts of those who were lucky enough to witness it.

.....

The night was slowly settling in as Victor drove Rema to the airport. It left just you, Noel, and a dimly lit street outside the restaurant where you had dinner. As Wonwoo and Jeonghan settled the bill inside you stood there, a familiar figure started approaching, and your heart sank.

"Which part of the restraining order did you not understand, Nikolia?" you spat out, your voice laced with irritation.

A devilish smirk played on Nikolia's lips as he responded, "Unclench your claws, kitten. I'm just here to talk."

You crossed your arms defensively. "I never cared for the child, but to think that this little kimchi pest will be sitting on 3 billion worth of property is not sitting right with me."

"Then sleep on it; you'll get used to it," you retorted, trying to mask your unease.

Nikolia laughed and raised his finger as if to push your hair away from your face, but before he could, Noel clung to your leg, visibly frightened. You warned, "Don't you dare touch me, Nikolia."

His eyes flared with anger, and he hissed, "That's not what you were saying that night 8 years ago."

You smirked, your words dripping with contempt, "Hmm, I wish I did. Then again, how would I know what faking an orgasm felt like?"

A fire blazed in Nikolia's eyes, but he didn't respond immediately. Instead, he mumbled, "Ah, Y/N, if only you'd given us a chance. You would've been his real aunt and the queen of my empire, not some little hotel man's wife."

You looked him up and down and said, "I'd rather eat glass than marry you. And don't even compare yourself to my husband, Nikolia. He has more spine than you can imagine. A person who kills his own sister, leaving his nephew an orphan, all for the sake of his fragile ego. So, get away and get lost, Nikolia. I don't want Noel anywhere near your shadow, let alone you."

Before Nikolia could respond, an arm wrapped around your waist, and Noel left your side, running to Jeonghan for safety. It was Wonwoo, exuding an aura of intimidation.

"I think my wife asked you to leave, Mr. Bulavia," he said calmly but firmly.

Nikolia glanced down at you, then up at Wonwoo, and then winked at Noel. "Don't get so worked up, Mr. Jeon. I was just having a conversation with an old friend."

You huffed, retorting, "We were never friends."

Nikolia backed away, smirking. "Whatever you say, princess. Whatever you say," he replied before finally turning and walking away into the night, 'This isn't over Y/N'' leaving you, Wonwoo, and Noel in a state of tense relief.

.....

As the time for your departure from Switzerland approached, the atmosphere was heavy with a mix of excitement and sadness. Jeonghan and Victor had come to drop you off at the airport, and there was something they wanted to share.

Once you had all settled in a quieter corner of the airport lounge, Jeonghan cleared his throat, exchanging a glance with Victor. It was clear they had something important to say.

"We have some news," Jeonghan began, his expression a mixture of excitement and nervousness. "Victor and I are getting married soon."

You blinked in surprise, and then your shock transformed into a grin. "That's wonderful news! Congratulations!"

But then a thought crossed your mind, and you narrowed your eyes playfully at Jeonghan. "Why didn't you tell me this earlier?"

He chuckled, his smile wide. "Well, you didn't tell us you were dating someone for a whole year!"

You rolled your eyes, but it was all in good humor. "Fair enough. Well, I'm genuinely happy for both of you."

Jeonghan turned his attention to Wonwoo, who was standing beside you. "Take good care of her and my godson, alright?"

Wonwoo nodded, extending his hand to Jeonghan. "I will, don't you worry."

Jeonghan gave Wonwoo a firm handshake before turning to you. He pulled you into a warm hug and whispered, "He's a good guy, but if he acts up, you know who to call."

You nodded, feeling a lump in your throat, and then picked up Noel. Tears welled up in his eyes as he hugged Jeonghan tightly, realising that this might be the last time he saw his beloved uncle for a while.

There was a farewell filled with smiles and promises to visit each other soon. Finally, the three of you walked to Wonwoo's private jet, ready to fly back home, where new adventures await. Unbeknownst to you, the new revelation you're about to face.

....

Extra:

Wonwoo descended the stairs, feeling the pangs of thirst that late-night work often brought on. He noticed the refrigerator light flickering and remembered he had a late meeting to attend due to the troublesome time zone differences. As he made his way to the kitchen, he noticed Noel struggling to open a bottle.

Deciding to offer some assistance, Wonwoo approached the young boy. "Why are you up so late?" he inquired, causing Noel to jump slightly.

"I could ask you the same," Noel retorted.

Wonwoo chuckled softly. "Touché. Well, I was working. But wait, I don't need to explain myself to you."

Noel, still wrestling with the stubborn bottle cap, retorted, "Neither do I."

Seeing Noel's struggle, Wonwoo carefully lifted him onto a stool and took the bottle. After successfully opening it, he decided to pour himself a cup of coffee and sat down beside the young boy.

Noel looked at him and curiously asked, "Why are you sleeping in the guest bedroom? Don't married people sleep together?"

A sly grin tugged at Wonwoo's lips. "Aren't you seven?" he retorted, and he couldn't help but chuckle at the clever preception.

Noel added with a hint of playfulness, "I may be seven, but I'm not an idiot. I know things because Mama and Appa used to sleep in the same room."

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Noel's insight. "Well, I work late at night, and your Tante is an early bird."

Noel nodded knowingly. "Yeah, she does like to sleep a lot."

Curiosity getting the better of him, Wonwoo pressed further. "What else does your Tante like?"

Noel hopped down from the stool, discarded the plastic into the blue recycling bin, and started to amble away. He turned back briefly and quipped, "Again, I may be a kid, but I'm not an idiot to let you sweet-talk me into an investigation."

Wonwoo watched the boy walk away with a smile, finding Noel's wit and independence rather endearing. He sipped his coffee and mumbled to himself, "Like aunt, like kid."

-------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Thank you again for reading see you all again with a new chapter in October.

msh

#kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop smut #fanfiction #seventeen #aquamarine #jeon wonwoo x reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen arrange marriage au #arrange marriage #jeon wonwoo arrange marriage au

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angeryporcupine · 2 years

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HashiMada Arranged Marriage AU fanart !!

#madara #madara uchiha #hashirama #hashirama senju #hashimada #hashirama x madara #naruto #naruto founders #digital art #artists on tumblr #art #madara is a bottom #madahashi #arrange marriage #fanart

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somemydayy · 2 years

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Arrangement

Warning: arranged marriage

Summary: Megumi can’t help feel his heart thump anytime he sees you. Megumi would never admit it but he was eternally grateful to gojo. If it wasn’t for him he would have never met you.

Paring: Megumi x Reader

It was like any other day except gojo had sent him out on a errand. First he headed to the shop near the school to picked up some pastries. Just too bad they were all almost gone. Except for one, just as he was about to reach out and take it someone else beat him to it. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a white haired girl, with a pair of stunning cerulean orbs covered by dark sunglasses. Oddly enough she reminded him of his dear sensei.

“Really? If you were gonna get it yourself why you send me? And what’s with the damn cross-play, your really something else.”

The young girl was left at a standstill, but a smile coated her lips.

“I’m not cross-dressing. If you don’t believe me, why don’t you find out yourself.” A threat? No more like a invitation to a fight. She gave off a strong aura, similar to gojo. She lifted her lips in a mock smirk and eyebrow raise, as she playfully said.

“I’m quite strong I’ll have you know.” Megumi was left at a standstill ‘who are you?’ he thought to himself.

In a horrible mood he makes his way to the Gojo estate without the sugary treat.

“Sorry I couldn’t get your mochi, they ran all out.” But to his utter surprise he’s greeted by a content gojo happily chewing on some mochi— that same green tea mochi as earlier, megumi knew this to be true because the pastry shop’s logo was plastered across a white bag left scattered across the coffee table.

“Teh, your impossible.” Megumi could only let out a loud sigh as he shook his head.

“Hey gojo, where did you put my glasses?—" At that moment he was meet with a pair of beautiful cerulean hues. Beautiful.

“You—”

“?”

“I see you two finally met.” It had been weeks after the last time he saw you, and he was itching to see you again. This time though, he had been invited to your family estate.

Much to Gojo’s displeasure the Elders planned to find you a husband. Megumi couldn’t bare the thought of you married to someone else with kids.

Megumi came up with the excuse of looking for the bathroom, before he made his way into your chambers, and hid in your closet. Just as he predicted you soon appeared not long after, and megumi soon made his move. He abruptly opened the closet door and made his way towards you.

Much to his displeasure this action along wasn’t much to catch you off guard. But Megumi had another trick up his sleeve, he cried solemnly. It was pathetic really but if he learned anything from gojo he knew you were weak to a man in pain or tears.

“Your crying now?” And just as his planned had worked, Gojo had his own to fulfill. He needed the clan elder’s approval to set a suitable marriage candidate for you.

“The young Fushiguro seems like an ideal marriage candidate.” Gojo stated.

“I wish to have my dear sister marry Megumi Fushiguro. I’m sure great opportunities will result from this agreement.” The elders talked among themselves, and they could only come to one conclusion; the marriage between (Y/n) Gojo and Megumi Fushiguro was the best course of action. With costumes you two would soon be engaged, and would soon marry after high school.

“I think I want to marry you.”

#drabble #image #scenario #anime #gif #arrange marriage #jjk #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu kaisen image #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi Fushiguro x reader #megumi #megumi fluff

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jjs-girl-12 · 6 months

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Love Me

Prologue(teaser)

Warning:angst and smut(soon;)

This is chapter 1 link

Y/N had always dreamt of marrying the same man. She knew his name, his face, his laugh, but she had never met him. She stumbled upon his Instagram one day accidentally and that was it. The dreams had started everyday.It was a recurring dream that left her longing for a love she had yet to experience. It was a man who wasn’t her type. It was a man named Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook had become their local celebrity through his funny tiktoks and reels. That was how she stumbled upon him. It was funny for Y/N, how they lived in the same city of Seoul but never met.

She didn’t even think about him like that way until the first dream appeared. It was a very vivid dream for her. She saw them getting married,and the minute she woke up she thought oh well this is ridiculous. Y/N was far from anything superstitious but the continuous dreams in a way spoke to her. So as the eighteen year old she was,kept on stalking his Instagram and tiktoks for fun till she never saw him and he left for the US for higher studies and add the cherry on top he got himself a girlfriend back in Seoul.

Y/N felt like a crazy fan for even thinking about him like that. But soon the wet dreams started. Deep in sleep,she had dreams about Jungkook touching her in between her legs. Telling her he belonged to her. And the moment she woke up she knew she was fucked.

Y/N tried to move on. Hangout with other guys and the moment she thought of another guy,that was the night Jungkook appeared in her dream. Her parents had become worried that she was isolating herself from boys but no she was waiting for him even though he didn’t belong with her or at least that’s what she thought.

Two years had gone by. Y/N was studying at Seoul National University and was happy. She almost hadn’t dream about him in a year. She believed that it was her teenage phase crush that had passed. She didn’t stalk Jungkook or his girlfriend anymore. She was happy in her own bubble till her parents had set her up for a blind date for an arrange marriage with none other than Jeon Jungkook.

#Jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #arrange marriage #bts angst #love #jeon jungkook #fluff #jjk #bts smut #fanfiction

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her-stars · 1 year

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Female villain protagonist ascending to her best worst form >>>>

the mc being dragged off by some prince and falling in love, she just goes insane and becomes the most evil, murderous, deranged new queen in existence.

wanting revenge finding out her sapphic knight lover is hurt in the war. I want them to be ruthless. i want them to spill blood and i don’t want them apologizing for anything. EVER. wanting the world to burn until she's back in her arms

#lesbian #wlw blog #wlw #lgbtq #wlw textpost #sapphic writing #sapphic stories #queer #girlswholikegirls #bisexual #enemies to lovers #arrange marriage

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rayan12sworld · 4 months

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💠💙Concord

ByDeastar

Summary:

Lan Wangji hopes, somewhat frivolously, that his betrothed might find him an acceptable companion. Neither he nor Wei Wuxian are able to bear children, so there will be no need to share a marital bed; that should make it easier for the two of them to reach a natural, comfortable equilibrium.

Two strings played in harmony: this is Lan Wangji’s quiet hope, as he arranges the Jingshi to accommodate a second inhabitant. Perhaps, he thinks, they might even become friends.

Chapter:1/1

Words:41,769

Status:Completed

A few part in this fanfic:

You will not behave this way again,” Lan Wangji bites. “What way?” Lan Wangji cannot even look at him. “You will desist from this—this mockery—” “I was helping, Lan Wangji,” says Wei Wuxian, sharply. “Maybe you can’t tell, but Chang Ci was eating it up with a spoon, he loved tha—” “You have learned nothing of our ways,” Lan Wangji interrupts, “nothing of our principles.” Wei Wuxian takes a faltering step back. “What are y—” “Lying is forbidden.” Wei Wuxian is not looking back. Eyes unfocused, he laughs, jagged. “Of course,” he says, as if to himself. “Of course. I can’t even be useful at being useless. No good even as an ornament on your arm.” He laughs again – a blood-red sound. “Even a false Wei Wuxian has nothing to offer Gusu Lan.” Lan Wangji’s stomach drops. That is not what he was saying at all, that is not— ~~

“I went to the Jingshi yesterday to look for you, Wangji. Wei-gongzi was there.” Lan Wangji’s pulse skips a beat. He senses, suddenly, a precipice before him. Lan Xichen presses his lips together for a moment. With visible concern, he says, “Wangji. He seems—unwell.” He is fine, Lan Wangji draws breath to say. For all of his failings as a husband, which are manifold, he is at the least not a betrayer of Wei Wuxian’s secrets. Instead, what comes out of his mouth is a shuddering exhale. Too faint to be a sob. “Oh, Wangji…” Lan Xichen breathes. “I don’t know,” Lan Wangji says, just above a whisper. His eyes are stinging. “Xiongzhang, I don’t know. Something is wrong with him. Something is wrong. But I don’t know how to help him. Xiongzhang, please. Please, I don’t know what to do.” Before the wedding, his brother had told Lan Wangji that they could find a way out of the marriage if Wei Wuxian was truly unbearable. Now, he is too frightened to ask, What if I am unbearable, Xiongzhang? What can you do, then? Being married to me is killing him, he does not say. I love him, and I am killing him. I have tried to be a devoted, conscientious husband, to guide him in the right ways, and all I have done is make him miserable. ~~~

"Wei Wuxian,” he says, with urgency. “This spell will kill you.” “I know.” Silence. Lan Wangji cannot move or speak. He cannot breathe. A tiny smile blooms on Wei Wuxian’s lips. Softly, he says, “I’ve finally found something I can contribute to Gusu Lan. To the whole cultivation world. It’s all right, Lan Wangji. Don’t be sad. This is what I want.” Lan Wangji stumbles forward – Wei Wuxian’s words are like a knife through his gut. “No—” ~~~

"I don’t want you to run away with me,” Wei Wuxian interrupts, standing tall now, eyes piercing. “I was driven from my last home. I don’t want to be driven from this one, too.” “If you do not want me to run away with you then what—” “I want you to fight for me.” There’s a hectic energy in Wei Wuxian’s eyes, and his cheeks are flushed. His fists are clenched at his side – one empty, one around Suibian. “You told me you hadn’t been a good advocate for me,” he says. “Do better. Go to battle for me.” “I have been trying, lately. It has not made you happier,” admits Lan Wangji, feeling his failures like a deep fever-ache. But Wei Wuxian surprises him. He shakes his head and says softly, “It has.” Lan Wangji sucks in a breath. "It… it was working.” For the first time tonight, Wei Wuxian looks at the ground. The line of his shoulders now is curved – not proud. As if there is something shameful in feeling a tiny shred of happiness. “It was working too well. I tried to destroy the Yin Iron tonight because… I was starting to—to see too much that I would miss.” He swallows. “I was afraid, if things kept going like this, I would… lose my nerve.” “Good,” Lan Wangji says, fiercely. He dares to close the last distance between them; dares to take Wei Wuxian’s trembling form into his arms. He fits there so well—Lan Wangji’s match in height and strength

#wangxian #wangxian recommendations #mdzs #mxtx mdzs #wangxian fanfic #ao3 recs #the untamed #mdzs fanfic rec #arrange marriage #Concord

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tubbyartz · 5 months

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fan art of the boys, prince Arche and Elio for @strawbubbysugar from their story Bethroned such a wonderful read, love it <3 lately i have been loving their design and charater hehe i hope you like the gift.. not the best but i enjoyed creating

#bethroned #fnaf #arrange marriage #fantasy #medieval #Elio #Arche #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #oc art #fanart #art #five nights at freddys #hehe my first fan art on here

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bookishlover23 · 1 year

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Butterflies are out of the cage and they are playing football!!!!!

#ana huang #king of wrath #dante russo #vivian lau #morally grey characters #forbidden love #arrange marriage #close proximity

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bloody-bee-tea · 2 years

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Beetober 2022 Day 16 - Foundling

Jiang Cheng know his fate has been decided when Jiang Fengmian calls him into his study.

“We have an answer from Qinghe Nie,” he tells him and Jiang Cheng sits down. “They agreed to the marriage.”

“But why them,” Jiang Cheng whispers out.

He doesn’t care about himself—being married off has always been his future and he made his peace with that long ago—but to the Nies—that is a cruelty Jiang Cheng didn’t think Jiang Fengmian to be capable of.

“You will go where I send you,” Jiang Fengmian says and Jiang Cheng is quick to nod.

“Of course I will, but they will find out. And they won’t be too happy.”

“You are a foundling, and that is all you’re ever going to be,” Jiang Fengmian sneers out and Jiang Cheng flinches. “Qinghe Nie believes in the occult; they think someone like you is a lucky sign. They are more than happy to take you and you will do your utmost to get this marriage over with. I do not have to remind you what should happen to you if the marriage falls through.”

“Understood,” Jiang Cheng mumbles but he can still barely understand Jiang Fengmian’s hate for him.

Yes, he is not his son, but Wei Wuxian is; Yu Ziyuan and he must have cheated on each other at roughly the same time after all. The story of Jiang Cheng being a foundling is just that—a story, carefully distributed throughout the world to not arise suspicion when Jiang Cheng doesn’t end up looking anything like his father.

Which happened, of course, because Jiang Cheng is the spitting image of his mother, but that in turn made new problems rise up.

Jiang Cheng is aware of the rumors going around that the foundling story is just a cover-up to hide Yu Ziyuan’s betrayal and they are not even wrong.

And Nie Mingjue is going to have his head when he finds out who Jiang Cheng’s real father is.

Jiang Cheng had hoped to be married off to one of the other Sects—even a lesser one would have been fine—because Jiang Fengmian never made it a secret that this was going to be his future.

He is not the heir and he has never been regarded as such, especially not since Wei Wuxian came to live with them. Jiang Fengmian was quick to appoint him heir and he didn’t hide the fact that Wei Wuxian was his actual son.

To this day Jiang Cheng will never understand how it’s okay that Jiang Fengmian has a bastard but should word ever get out that Jiang Cheng is a bastard as well his mother will likely be killed.

It simply makes no sense but of course he knows better than to argue against this.

Jiang Fengmian waited until the last possible moment to tell him about the marriage because not even a day later Jiang Cheng is being sent away, with the required minimum of people to follow him to not offend Qinghe Nie.

He didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to his mother or sister and Jiang Cheng knows that it’s a very deliberate move from Jiang Fengmian.

His mother probably has a thing or two to say about his marriage to Nie Mingjue after all.

By the time he arrives in front of the gates to the Unclean Realm, Jiang Cheng has his mind made up. He has met Nie Mingjue before on several occasions and he likes the other man; he is not going to lead him on about his heritage, no matter what it should mean for himself.

So when Nie Mingjue leads him to the rooms where he’ll be staying in for now, Jiang Cheng stops him with a hand to his elbow.

“I would like to talk to you about something,” Jiang Cheng says and then sends a pointed look at the people around them. “In private, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“That’s highly inappropriate,” Nie Huaisang chimes in but Nie Mingjue only rolls his eyes at him.

“And who here is going to care or breathe a word of this?” Nie Mingjue shoots back, glaring at everyone. “I thought so,” he then smugly says and points at a door just up ahead. “We can talk there.”

Jiang Cheng nods and leads the way, and he doesn’t even care that his behaviour is almost offending. His life is forfeit anyway, this should hardly make a dent in Nie Mingjue’s regard for him.

The room is a simple office, furnished with nothing more than two tables for paperwork and one to take their tea and Jiang Cheng thinks it’s perfect.

This will be over quick anyway.

“What is it you want to talk about?” Nie Mingjue asks as he closes the door behind them and Jiang Cheng sits down.

He didn’t give much thought on how he’s going to break the news to Nie Mingjue but he knows one thing.

“Before I start, there’s a condition,” he says and meets Nie Mingjue’s eyes without wavering.

“Okay,” Nie Mingjue unsurely says, clearly at a total loss as to what is happening right now.

“After I said what I want to say, you’ll no longer want to marry me. And that is fine, but you can’t send me back to Lotus Pier. So I need you to promise me that you’ll either kill me after, or you’ll help me get away.”

“Kill you,” Nie Mingjue mutters. “What the hell is going on here, Wanyin? Are you here to spy on us? To kill me to take over Qinghe?”

It’s not a bad guess all things considered but Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“Promise me,” he insists instead of explaining and watches as Nie Mingjue presses his lips together.

“Fine, I’ll promise. I’ll either kill you or help you vanish.”

“Thank you,” Jiang Cheng breathes out and slumps over a little bit. This was the most important part, at least to him. “I am not a foundling,” he starts with and immediately Nie Mingjue frowns.

“You’re not—does that mean the rumors are true? The Violet Spider is your mother, then?”

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng nods and watches as Nie Mingjue puzzles out the rest.

“But Jiang Fengmian is not your father, then, clearly. And you think this knowledge will make me want to kill you—” he trails off there but when a surge of killing intent goes through the room Jiang Cheng knows that he figured it out so he nods.

“Wen Ruohan is my father.”

It seems as if Nie Mingjue has a hard time to calm himself down at those words, but Jiang Cheng isn’t worried. His death has always been on the table after all.

“He killed my father,” Nie Mingjue finally presses out and Jiang Cheng nods.

“I know. That’s why I had to tell you. Jiang Fengmian insisted on marrying me off and he can’t marry me off to Qishan Wen for obvious reasons. He already has alliances secured with Lanling Jin and Gusu Lan, though, so that only left you, despite my protests. He doesn’t care.”

“You are the son of that monster,” Nie Mingjue hisses and even though Jiang Cheng flinches at that, he still nods.

Wen Ruohan is a monster and Jiang Cheng is his son. Jiang Cheng didn’t chose him as a father and he has no contact to him at all but of course Nie Mingjue would not be able to see past that. Jiang Cheng knew that from the very beginning and yet it still hurts somehow.

“You are the son of the Violet Spider,” Nie Mingjue breathes out next and suddenly all the killing intent is gone.

“What?” Jiang Cheng asks because that shouldn’t even factor in here. “Listen, it doesn’t matter who my mother is. If you send me back then something worse than death is waiting for me, Jiang Fengmian will make sure of it. So either you kill me—as would be your right—or you help me get away from all of this.”

“This is why Popo Yu has always been so fond of you,” Nie Mingjue goes on as if he hasn’t heard Jiang Cheng at all.

“Mingjue, listen to me!” Jiang Cheng yells out. “Jiang Fengmian thinks you’re just a bunch of savages who believe in the occult and so you wouldn’t look more closely into this matter, but I am telling you, I am not a foundling, I do not bring luck and my father is your sworn enemy!”

“But we do believe in the occult,” Nie Mingjue says as if Jiang Cheng’s other words mean nothing. “And you are the son of the Violet Spider. Spiders do not have sons. They only birth daughters.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jiang Cheng asks, completely puzzled by this turn of events.

“It means that you’re a miracle,” Nie Mingjue tells him. “Popo Yu dotes on you because you’re the first male Spider in centuries. We Nies do believe in the occult and a foundling has nothing against a male Spider.”

“But I am not—I haven’t received proper training,” Jiang Cheng stammers, unsure what exactly is happening right now.

“I am sure Yu Ziyuan would love to join us here under the guise of advising you through this courtship,” Nie Mingjue gives back and Jiang Cheng blinks at him.

“Mingjue, I am telling you that I am Wen Ruohan’s son and you plan to do what? Marry me?”

“Yes,” Nie Mingjue easily gives back and Jiang Cheng rears back as if Nie Mingjue has hit him.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?”

“I felt the killing intent coming from you just a moment ago! How can you even ask me that, I have felt exactly how you feel about this.”

“No. You felt how I feel about Wen Ruohan,” Nie Mingjue corrects him. “You have no clue how I feel about you. And before you start again—it doesn’t matter that he is your father. It wasn’t you who killed my father and it wasn’t you who made him kill my father either. You’re just a kid who got settled with a monster for a father, but that isn’t your fault. And you do not have contact to him, as far as I know, right?”

“Right,” Jiang Cheng slowly says. “I haven’t even met him once in my life.”

“Then I don’t see how I would make you responsible for my father’s death.”

“What if I don’t want to be a Spider?” Jiang Cheng tries again, because he thought his only two options were death or banishment.

He never considered that marriage might still be on the table and now that it is, he doesn’t know how to handle it.

“Then you won’t be,” Nie Mingjue gives back with a shrug. “I just thought you’d want to learn something about your heritage. You don’t have to, though, I will marry you regardless.”

“Why though?” Jiang Cheng breathes out and Nie Mingjue smiles at him.

“Because I like you. Because I can see myself falling in love with you. Isn’t that enough reason?”

It is enough reason, of course it is, it’s just not what Jiang Cheng expected so he has a hard time wrapping his head around this.

At Jiang Cheng’s continued silence, Nie Mingjue’s smile dims.

“Of course I understand that you are an unwilling participant in all of this, so if you’d rather vanish and leave all of this behind, I will help you however I can,” he finally awkwardly says and Jiang Cheng is quick to shake his head.

“I am not entirely unwilling to marry you,” Jiang Cheng tells him immediately. “I just thought—I didn’t think that was a possibility still.”

“Well, then it’s a day full of surprises for both of us,” Nie Mingjue says, his smile making a return. “But I still need to hear if you want to marry me.”

“Yes, I want to,” Jiang Cheng rushes out, afraid to miss this one chance to maybe get some happiness in his life.

“Then we’ll proceed with everything as was planned,” Nie Mingjue decides and offers Jiang Cheng his hand to take, which of course Jiang Cheng immediately does.

This day certainly ended better than he ever dared to hope for.

Link to my kofi

#bt writes #mingcheng #the untamed #beetober2022 #mdzs #canon divergence #arrange marriage #foundling #dysfunctional family #threat of violence and death #hurt/comfort #getting together

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