𝖋𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖙𝖞. - chapter 6
you have known your entire life that your existence is political. second born to the Throne, a daughter no less, your only purpose is to be wed to a prince to strengthen alliances. but you still hope to mean something to your new husband, despite the intentions behind your union.
you are sorely mistaken.
you realise quickly that you are as alone in your new home as you were in your childhood one. this is the fate that has been written for you, the reality you must live. but one knight might change it all when he swears an oath of fealty to you, and means it with every piece of his heart.
pairing: knight!choi seungcheol x princess/queen!reader
genre: medieval au, royalty au
word count: 7.5k
warnings (for this chapter): some historical inaccuracies but there is def precedent for what is happening here (i looked it up ok), mild angst and self doubt, smut, nsfw, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, pregnancy sex and slight lactation kink, oral (f receiving), mentions of injuries, bruises.
series masterlist
From its beginning to its end, the war lasted five months and twenty four days. In Seungcheol’s head, it is five months, twenty four days and twenty five nights, but he doubts anyone is counting as meticulously as he is. Maybe soldiers with wives who missed them every day felt the same and counted the same. To Seungcheol, you are just as precious as all those women to their men. He doesn’t think he is special, or that his love transcends all others’, but he is firmly confident that there is hardly anyone on this earth as worthy of fighting for as you.
But the fighting is over now, and he is on his way back.
His horse feels thrumming and alive under his thighs, the slide of strong muscle back and forth as it prattles on. He is towards the front of the formation, if they can still call it that. Everyone had relaxed slightly once they entered their own borders. Some men slowed, some sped up, impatient to get back. The caravans trudge on steadily behind him, and Seungcheol’s back screams. The day is still fresh, the afternoon sun still fairly high in the sky, and according to Seungcheol’s calculations, they would reach the castle before sundown. It would be best, since he doesn’t think Jeonghan can take another day of bumpy traveling. His mangled leg worries Seungcheol every day.
There are multiple reasons Seungcheol wants to keep going as fast as he possibly can. There are, of course, the injured, including his friend who nearly got his leg chopped off in the battle that ensured their key victory. Seokmin keeps saying Jeonghan is stable, and the leg is salvageable, but Seungcheol cannot remember the last time he saw so much blood come from just one person. Jeonghan is deathly pale as it is, and while Seungcheol likes teasing him about how sickly he looks even on his best days, he doesn’t like the idea of his friend getting worse.
Then, there’s the thought of you, waiting every day for his arrival back at the castle. Six months he has not seen you. Has not taken in the sight of your wide eyes, your pure, soft, unblemished skin, how heated your skin feels under his cold fingertips. Seungcheol thinks about it every night, near constant, hears your voice ring in his ears. He thinks he is starved, his heart withering until it feels dead and yellowed.
The closer Seungcheol gets to the capital, the more he sees how clean the streets are. Large banners hang along the sides, bearing war slogans, and as they progress, the crowd on either side gets thicker, the cheers getting louder. Seungcheol is tired, but he keeps a straight face. Many of the folks are crying, many wave their handkerchiefs at him. He feels his heart skip, his chest swell. This feels so foreign, but it brings a sense of closure he has not yet felt when it comes to the war.
To his right, he can see Joshua grinning ear to ear. He looks battered and tired, but his smile is brilliant and bright. Seungcheol wonders why he can’t muster his own, why he feels like he weighs so much, weight that comes not from his armor or the sword hanging on his waist, but something he can’t pinpoint.
When the castle towers enter his line of vision from afar, his heart leaps. He knows he shouldn’t push, but he cannot help it. He digs his heels into his horse slightly, urging a speed up. The men beside and behind him start matching his pace. Seungcheol wonders if they feel as desperate as him, but he discards the thought. He doubts it. His yearning transcends anything earthly in this moment.
He is sure the herald he sent ahead about his arrival has reached you, and castle preparations are in full swing. Things have been different since he was announced Heir Presumptive, a change he is still getting used to. He refuses to break some habits, like when his men asked him to ride in a carriage instead of leading the formation on his own stead. He declined, wanting eyes on his surroundings as they traveled. Unfortunately, war has left him jumpy and paranoid. He put Jeonghan in the carriage meant for himself, leg elevated, and instead climbed upon his horse, urging everyone forward. He also refused to return early without key members of his troop. These men had pledged allegiance to him in battle, and they had carried through. He would be damned if he left anyone behind. Besides, Mingyu reassured him that he had everything under control on the frontlines.
“You did everything you could in a war that wasn’t even yours to begin with.” The man had said as he bid farewell to Seungcheol’s platoon. “You need to return home and claim your rightful Throne.”
Seungcheol had huffed, still not accustomed to the idea. Mingyu only patted him hard on the shoulder.
“Hey,” he leaned close to talk in a low voice, “when you go back, you better make an honest woman out of my sister.”
Seungcheol blinked, mouth slightly ajar at the request. If Mingyu meant marrying you, then of course. Seungcheol wouldn’t want it any other way. He can do that now, as Jeonghan had extensively assured him. When he gave Mingyu a confused look, the man only gave back a sly smile.
“There’s a surprise waiting for you back home. Don’t worry about it.”
The words lingered in Seungcheol’s head throughout his journey, coming back time to time as he wondered what this surprise might be. He doesn’t think anything can be a bigger shock than him suddenly being a monarch of a large country, but at this point, he doesn’t put anything above the realm of possibility. So as the castle gates rise in his vision, his anticipation only grows.
Church bells sound as the troops draw near. Loud and booming, announcing their arrival. He can see the castle doors part. The cheers and cries grow louder. Seungcheol blinks against the dust in the air, and his eyes finally spot a familiar face past the gates. Standing tall, his spectacles hanging around his neck, Wonwoo smiles widely. He is like a sight for sore eyes, and Seungcheol feels relief loosen his stomach. It’s strange, seeing someone not covered in dirt and soot. But he is a welcome sight.
Seungcheol slows as he approaches the gates, wondering if he should dismount. He is still unfamiliar with how this works. He half wishes Jeonghan was by his shoulder to tell him what to do.
Right. Speaking of Jeonghan.
“Your Majesty,” Wonwoo greets. Seungcheol blinks as the man bows. He doesn’t speak, but he does not need to, because Wonwoo continues.
“In the name of this castle and all who dwell in it, I bid you welcome home. May your victory be long remembered, and your reign ever strengthened by it.”
Seungcheol’s throat tightens.
Wonwoo steps to the side and gestures at the party to move. Seungcheol follows his cue, trudging forward onto the cobblestone path that leads to the main hall. The large oak doors stand apart, the sprawling stairway leading up to it is crowded on both sides by castle clergy, noblemen and staff. Standing in the middle of the open doorway is a stationary figure, hands folded in front of a brilliant maroon dress.
Seungcheol breath hitches.
His horse stops a few feet before the first step. Wonwoo gestures, and Seungcheol dismounts. His hands are shaking on the reins, but he manages to keep his knees steady. His armor clinks.
Before Seungcheol can move forward, you are already descending the stairs. He spots Eunhee right behind you, lifting one side of the dress so you don’t trip. It’s grander than anything he has seen you wear, layers and layers of cloth despite how hot the weather is draped over your figure. Without thinking, he steps forward, ready to kneel to you as he always does. But before he can, you are mere feet away from him. He watches, jaw going slack as your knees lower, your waist bending as you bow.
He knows his first instinct. He wants to stop you immediately. You bowing before him is unacceptable, but he is hit with reality when all the noblemen and clergy follow right behind you. He is reminded, viscerally, that he is their new King. Your new King.
He doesn’t know how he feels about this.
When you rise, his throat knots, and he wants nothing more than to do the same, to show you his respect. When he looks at Wonwoo, he thinks the steward can read his mind. Very slightly, only so he can see, Wonwoo moves his head side to side.
He can’t kneel.
It’s a blur how Seungcheol is swept along with the procession to the Dining Hall. It is decked with bright gold and maroon drapings, celebratory banners and decoration meant for his arrival. He has just enough time to tell Wonwoo to send for help immediately for Jeonghan, and his heart eases a little when he looks back and sees Jeonghan’s carriage being led to the infirmary. He wishes he could stop all this and stay by his friend’s side instead. Or drop everything and go to you, but he can’t.
Being royalty is already annoying him. And that heavy weight on his chest hasn’t gone away.
The feast is grand. Seungcheol is pulled into conversation with castle clergy who he can already understand are buttering him up. The archbishop greets him jovially, and Seungcheol feels it is genuine, since he knows the man has always liked him and despised Seojoon. So he must be very happy. He reunites with familiar faces, uses any free time to ask Wonwoo about any injured he can think of, and if they are receiving care. You are seated too far from him for his liking, and briefly, Seungcheol recalls the days when he was still your Knight, which meant he was constantly by your side.
He misses you terribly.
The feast goes on for hours, with entertainment he cannot refuse. He knows the people are happy about the war ending. He doesn’t have the heart to stop them from celebrating. Eventually, he cannot take it anymore, and he turns to Wonwoo again, who stands by his shoulder.
“I’m tired and still covered in grime.” He mutters. “Any way I can be excused?”
Wonwoo laughs. “Excused? You are our King, Your Majesty. You leave any time you wish to.”
Seungcheol blinks. Right.
Wonwoo and some castle guards walk him into grand chambers he has never seen before. They mimic yours in layout and size, maybe even larger, but they feel cold and impersonal. At this point, he doesn’t care, dismissing staff and stripping so he can bathe. The hot water feels glorious on his tired muscles, but his bruises and cuts scream under it. He avoids wetting the bandage on his side, a still healing wound, but scrubs off any dirt on himself. He feels like he has lost pounds of weight by the time he is slipping on a simple tunic and trousers.
Wonwoo is waiting in an armchair in front of the fireplace when Seungcheol emerges from the bath. A chambermaid is serving steaming hot tea, and Seungcheol’s chest squeezes again.
“Where is Her Majesty? Still at the party?”
Wonwoo does not look surprised at the question. “She retired to her chambers before you did.”
Seungcheol frowns. “Who escorted her?”
Wonwoo chuckles a little. “Your Majesty, you do not have to worry about things like that anymore. You are not her knight. They are not your concern.”
Irritation plucks at him. He knows it’s not warranted. It’s not Wonwoo’s fault, but he wants to yell at the man. He grits his teeth hard until his jaw stings.
“I would rather have tea with her.” He instead bluntly states.
Wonwoo blinks and nods. “Of course. I will see to it that she arrives here shortly.”
“Don’t bother.” Seungcheol interrupts harshly. “I will go see her myself.”
Wonwoo stands, and the handmaid follows, a few paces behind him. “Your Majesty, you don’t need to go to her anymore. She will come to you-”
“No.” He can hear his anger in his own voice. He knows Wonwoo hears it too. “I will go. You can stay here. Or do whatever you want, I do not care.”
The steward looks like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing. Seungcheol ignores him, trudging right past the man to his chamber doors, tugging them open. He walks all the way across the castle to a path that feels like second nature to him. When he finally spots your door, he looks back at the two guards who have been scrambling to keep up with him since he left his chambers.
“You two, go.” He gestures. “You are done for the night.”
He can feel their hesitation, but they don’t dare refuse. Seungcheol gives the single guard at your door a pointed look. Something in his face must translate, because that man scrambles off as well, leaving him alone at your door.
For some reason, he can feel his nerves. Five months, twenty four days and twenty five nights.
The oak handles are a familiar weight under his hand. He pushes them open, and only when he steps inside does he realise he probably should have knocked. The thought is banished from his head when he spots you, sitting in your usual armchair. Eunhee sits next to a small table, preparing tea. You do not look up from the fireplace.
“You came.” You whisper. “I didn’t think you would.”
Your voice hits his ears, and Seungcheol feels like he has walked into a waterfall, hit by the falling waves, head underwater.
“I’m insulted that you believed I wouldn’t.” He manages to reply.
You turn your head then. When your eyes meet his, he feels a shock zip through his entire body, lighting it on fire.
“Eunhee.” He mumbles, not looking away from you. The maid stops her movements. “Go to your room. Soonyoung is anxious to see you.”
A small silence later, Eunhee merely nods and stands, slipping quietly past him. When he hears the door shut behind him, he finally moves.
He closes the distance between himself and where you sit, and immediately, like it calls for him, he drops to his knees before you. You gasp and sit up.
“Don’t do that!” Your voice is sharp. “You’re not-”
Your hands reach his shoulders to stop him. He abruptly catches them in his own. Your skin is deliciously soft against the rough callouses on his palms.
“Please.” He whispers. “Let me do this.”
You stare, and he stares back. Slowly, he bows his head, placing it gently on your left knee. You do not stop him. His hands stay holding yours, because he cannot bear to let go. The weight that plagued his shoulders lifts just slightly, and Seungcheol feels like his breath does not sting as much when he inhales.
“I’m supposed to be bowing to you.” You finally say. Your tone is amused. Seungcheol feels lighter by the second. He shakes his head just enough for you to feel it.
“Don’t do that ever again.” He mumbles, not lifting his head. “I almost killed myself.”
You laugh, the clear, pleasant sound floating into his head, scratching at it so good he can feel the wave of tears hit him. You detach your right hand from his, and seconds later, he feels the fingers card through his scalp. A shiver runs down his torso.
“It’s longer.” You comment. “No barbers on the frontlines?”
He huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, finally looking up at you. You look stunning up close, your skin bright and supple under the light from the fireplace. You look divine, and Seungcheol takes the sight in with hungry eyes. It seems you are doing the same.
“How has war made you even more handsome?” You tease. He laughs again. The weight is lifting, lifting, lifting.
He lets you continue to card your fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp every now and then. Your fingers trace his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose. His eyes flutter, lips part when you press your thumb to them. He stays kneeling, arms draped over your lap, letting you touch any part of him you can reach.
For the first time in months, he feels peace.
“Talk to me.” You hum. “You’re thinking. I can see it.”
Gently, you tap the space between his eyebrows. Seungcheol sighs.
“I’ve missed you so much. Every second of every day.”
Your face, already so soft, seems to relax even more. “Me too. I thought about you constantly.”
“As did I.”
You hum. “So why haven’t you kissed me yet?”
Seungcheol chuckles at the petulant tone in your voice. He sits up on his knees just a bit, enough to lean up so his lips will brush yours. He smells your sweet perfume, exactly how he left it, and the familiarity makes him surge forward, finally pressing his lips to yours.
He thinks he is drinking from the fountain of youth when he kisses you. Every nerve in his body lights up. Every muscle in his limbs loosens. For the first time in weeks, it’s like he cannot feel every injury on his skin throb and twinge. He loses himself in this feeling, in how soft you are, nothing like the rough, hard conditions he has been accustomed to for so long. You taste the same, the flavor that makes him heady, the one he is addicted to. He kisses you harder, moves his lips with almost feverish intensity, one hand reaching up to cup the back of your head, tugging you down a bit more. You whine so sweetly, his head spins.
“We have to be careful.” You mumble into his mouth.
“I locked the doors.” He replies, eyes rolling as his tongue brushes yours.
“No, not like that.” When you pull away, he almost groans, biting it back and trying not to sound like he’s dying. He can’t help his frown though, and you laugh.
“Don’t pout, Seungcheol.” His name from your lips makes his heart skip. “I have news.”
He huffs and finally sits back again in front of your legs. He makes sure to scowl so you can see he would rather do less talking, but you only giggle. You shift forward a little, standing up slowly.
“Help me undress?”
That he can do. He scrambles to stand up, gently turning you around so your back is to him. You are draped in various clothes. He removes the piece draped over your shoulders, a large cloak that goes all the way to your feet. Then, he undoes the knot at the back of your neck, brushing the cloth off your shoulders. He eyes the bare skin hungrily as it comes into view. He can’t help but lean forward, pressing his lips to your shoulder. He can hear you sigh.
Once the first layer of dress falls, Seungcheol eyes your back in confusion.
“No corset?”
You shake your head. “Haven’t worn one in months.”
Before he can ask why, you turn around. Seungcheol’s eyes shoot down. His jaw goes slack.
Silence fills your chambers. Firewood crackles. Seungcheol feels lightheaded, like the ground was snatched from under his feet. He stares and stares, but he feels like the voice has been stolen right from him. He can’t speak. His mind runs, scrambles.
“Are you upset with me?” You finally say, and the trepidation in your voice makes his stupor break immediately.
“What?” His eyes almost bulge from his head. “Why- why would I be upset with you? You’re-”
You’re carrying my child.
He doesn’t say it, because the gravity of the statement is almost too much to bear. Unconsciously, he reaches forward, brushes his hand over the large swell of your stomach. The skin is taut under your chemise, but you don’t move away. You let him feel, even though Seungcheol is not entirely sure what he is feeling. He releases a shaky breath, and a wave of tears washes over him once again.
“I didn’t think it possible that I could love you more than I already did.” He whispers. “Clearly, from what I’m feeling right now, I was wrong.”
He can see the unshed tears in your own eyes, and he reaches up to wipe under them just as they fall, catching the little droplets on the tips of his thumbs.
“I didn’t want to tell you in a letter.” Your voice is shaky. “I didn’t want it to be intercepted. No one knows except Eunhee. There are rumors but with everything else happening, people don’t really care about this anymore.”
“And you?” He presses. “You’re okay?”
You laugh quietly. “The beginning was very uncomfortable. But I’m okay now.”
Seungcheol feels a twinge of regret. “I should’ve been here.”
You shake your head. “You were fighting for us.”
Us. Seungcheol feels overwhelmed as another wave of emotions washes over him. He can’t help himself anymore, leaning forward and kissing you hard. You make a small, surprised noise, but kiss him back, matching his intensity. He feels your hands grip his arms and shoulders, squeezing and rubbing, feeling him. Your tongue meets his and he groans.
“Can- can we still….?” He can’t help himself. You nod enthusiastically.
“Just have to be a little careful.”
He moans again, nodding. He grips and squeezes your hips, admiring how the skin gives under his touch. You’re even more supple than before, and he wants to feel you without any cloth. He’s impatient, he can’t wait anymore. He has been pent up for so long, left only with the memory of how your body feels against his, how amazing it feels to slide into you.
He’s careful as he guides you back to your bed, pulling apart the silk drapings around it and laying you carefully on the mattress. He tugs off the last piece of clothing on your body, and Seungcheol thinks he might come right there.
Never before did he think he would find you so sexy like this, round with his baby in you, all curves and plump flesh. You’ve always been soft, skin pampered and taken care of your whole life, but now you glow with it, filled up in all the right places. Your chest has swollen, your hips are wider, your stomach so beautifully round, all the changes that make you look so….. his head spins with all the vulgar thoughts in them. His mouth waters. He wonders immediately if you taste different now. He wants to know so badly.
He lowers himself between your legs, spreads them to the sides carefully. Your chest is heaving and falling already, and he can see, even in the dim light, that you’re dripping.
“My love.” He coos. “Have you missed me?”
He can’t see your face, but he hears your trembling whimper. Music to his ears. He leans forward, swipes his tongue through the mess between your lower lips. He hums as the taste floods his mouth.
He was right. It’s different. He loves it.
He eats you out like he’s starved. And he is. He has dreamed of this, your juices on his tongue, his nose, suffocating him deliciously. He keeps your legs open the best that he can with his shoulders, one hand holding your left thigh, the other reaching up to brush over your bump. You sigh and moan, and the sound only spurs him on. He sucks hard at your little nub, flicking his tongue back and forth. The more time that goes on, the more desperate he is to make you get to your high. He wants to feel it, wants to bury his tongue deep into your walls and feel them convulse around it. You grant him his wish. And his chest squeezes when he realises you might be just as pent up as he is when you reach your high abnormally quickly, crying out as it hits you full force.
He sucks, licks and laps at you through it, carefully holding your hips down so you don’t jerk and twitch too much. He loves it when you writhe under him, your body succumbing to how he’s making you feel, but he wants to be extra careful. He knows you like it hard, but he doesn’t know how much you can take now.
He cleans you up after your release, licking all over you until you're nice and shiny with his spit. His cock is twitching and leaking desperately, and as he surfaces, licking his lips, he feels like he can no longer delay it. If he doesn’t get inside you immediately, he’s going to explode.
You seem to be on the same page. You’re flushed, panting, covered in sweat in that sexy way that makes him lightheaded, but you’re already tugging on his shirt, urging him to take it off. He obliges, following with his pants right after. He hears you gasp and stiffen, and he realises that he forgot he is covered in injuries.
“Seungcheol, my god.” You sit up, eyeing his unclothed skin. The cut on his shoulder is finally closed and well on its way to healing, but it looks particularly horrible, and he is marred with bruises and cuts all over. Your eye catches the large bandage on his side, and your face crumples.
“It’s okay.” Seungcheol rushes to reply, moving closer to you. He runs a hand over your arm soothingly. “I’m fine. Most of these are old and already half healed.”
“Are- are you sure?” Your voice is thin and trembling. He immediately nods.
“I promise. Have I ever lied to you before?”
You let out a shaky breath and shake your head. You are still eyeing him with apprehension.
“My dear.” He whispers. It catches your attention. “I’m more than okay. Especially now, with you right here, right under me. Let me have you, darling. Please.”
Your eyes cloud. You sigh when he runs his lips over your neck. Slowly, Seungcheol coaxes you to lie back again, settling between your legs. He runs his hand reverently up your thighs to the apex. He prods between them, finding your opening, but you catch his wrist before he can slip a finger in.
“Don’t need it.” You mumble. Seungcheol blinks.
“It’s been too long, my love. It will hurt-”
“Wanna feel it.” You whisper. Seungcheol eyes you, mouth dropped open at the heat in your eyes, the hunger in them. He feels his brain slowly shut off, clouded by the thick fog of lust settling over it. He shuffles forward, grips the base of his cock so he can run the head right through the mess between your legs. You whine in that way he finds so pretty, and he dips the tip just inside before pulling out. Your face crumples.
“Seungcheol, please.” Your hands fist the sheets on either side of your head. “Wanted you for so long. I’ve been so- so empty. I wanna be filled. Please don’t tease-”
You gasp when he slides in, your words lost as he carves his way through your walls. Seungcheol’s moan cracks, hand slamming into the mattress to hold himself up. You’re so tight, tighter than he has ever felt you. Hell, you’re tighter than the first time he had you. Yet, you’re wetter than the ocean, and he glides through the resistance like you’re welcoming him in, your walls hungry, squeezing and pressing so deliciously it makes his cock throb. Seungcheol’s entire body shakes. He groans and cums.
It encompasses him like a freefall. He feels nearly weightless with it, like you’re sucking it out of him. He chases it, thrusting weakly, not even pulling out properly, to try and prolong it. His vision swims, but he doesn’t care. You’re crying and moaning, a sound that is distant to his ears.
“Did- did you just….?” You gasp.
“I’m not done.” He grits out, pulling out all the way and slamming inside. You shriek. His orgasm ebbs, but his cock is still throbbing, hard as ever. He sits up, grips your hips tightly, and finally, he fucks you like he knows you deserve.
You’re a vision under him, laid out glowing with sweat and twisting, squirming on the bed. Your breasts, so full and plump, bounce with every thrust, and Seungcheol can’t help but reach up, gripping one tightly and squeezing. His thumb brushes your nipple and you cry out.
“Sensitive.” You manage to gasp. Seungcheol’s cock twitches where it rams inside you.
“Yeah?” He groans, leaning forward as much as he can. It’s enough to reach your chest, and he pops a nipple into his mouth, sucking hard.
“God.” You weep, hand reaching to wind into his hair and tug harshly. Seungcheol groans, suckles like he’s hungry for it, and his head spins when he thinks of how full your breasts must already be, waiting to feed his child. He thinks he has lost his mind, but he doesn’t really care. He pulls away enough to sink his teeth lightly into the meat of your breast. You whimper.
“You’re so sexy.” He groans. “The perfect woman. You’re radiant, my love. So good for me.”
The praise makes you moan, your back arching, and Seungcheol thinks he’s going to faint. He’s dizzy, he’s sweating, you look so delicious under him that he wishes he could lick over every inch of your body. Your cunt makes shameful noises, squelching as he slides through the cum he has already put inside you, aiding his movements. It drips from you, forms a white ring around your opening, coats his shaft. It’s so dirty, so filthy, but he loves it. This is like his wildest dreams and fantasies colliding all in one.
“Tell me how much you missed me.” He groans, leaning forward to plant his hands on either side of your head, eyeing your pretty, flushed face.
“M-missed you so much, Cheol.” The nickname makes his heart lurch. “Thought about this every night. Got- got so wet just thinking about it. Wanted to touch myself. But I couldn’t. Only you get to touch me down there.”
“Fuck.” This was a bad idea. You’re going to make him cum again, and he doesn’t want that yet. He wants to fuck you for hours and hours. All night, all day tomorrow, every single minute he missed while he was away.
“Putting a baby in you wasn’t enough?” He goads, voice rough as he thrusts. “You still wanted more? So greedy, my love. Can’t be satisfied unless you’re fucked every day, can you?”
Never in his wildest dreams did Seungcheol think he would ever speak to you this way. Maybe in his most depraved moments, hand wrapped around his cock, he has wondered about it, but he never thought he would ever let such words leave his lips. But he watches your eyes widen, filled with unshed tears, your lips part, and you squeeze around him so tightly he thinks he will suffocate. You nod feverishly, a sound leaving the very back of your throat, your nails clawing at the sheets.
“Need to be fucked every day.” You mumble.
Seungcheol groans. God, he loves this. Vocabulary that shouldn’t even be anywhere near a queen’s mouth, spewing from your lips like you crave his approval.
“I’ll give it to you.” He grits out. “Every day. Multiple times a day. As much as you need. You want my cock, I’m there.”
Your back arches abruptly, a cry releasing from your chest. You squeeze tight around him, and Seungcheol fucks you through your orgasm. You pulse and squeeze his cock like your walls are alive, and it takes everything in Seungcheol’s power to not dump another load of his seed inside you. He pushes through until your high ebbs, slowing to a stop before carefully pulling out.
“I’m not done with you.” He whispers into your cheek, turning you so you’re lying on your side, settling behind you so he can slide inside you again.
……………………………………
The days following Seungcheol’s return are wildly eventful.
The castle moves in two distinct tones. On the outside, it presents the state of grief and mourning, as everyone practices silence to show respect for the late King. It is important, both Jeonghan and Wonwoo emphasize this repeatedly, that you appear as muted as you possibly can. This proves particularly difficult for you since you are so deliriously happy about Seungcheol’s return. While you are trained in maintaining appearances, you realise there are some emotions that even you cannot tamp down.
Seungcheol finds the whole situation hilarious.
“I think it’s cute.” He comments as he watches Eunhee lace you up in a deep violet gown. You’ve been wearing exclusively dark colors since the period of mourning was announced, as the new Queen Dowager.
“Pray tell, how is any of this cute?” You mumble, already cranky even though the morning has just begun.
“You being so happy that no matter how hard you try, you can’t pretend otherwise.” He grins. You roll your eyes, but your face still heats. You can see Eunhee fighting a smile.
“You’re one to talk, Your Majesty.” You shoot back. “Soonyoung told me you and Jeonghan stayed up very late last night drinking the hours away.”
Seungcheol balks. “Soonyoung told you?”
“Well, he told Eunhee.”
Seungcheol’s eyes meet the handmaid’s. She has the decency to look sheepish.
“I can’t keep secrets for her, Your Majesty.” She explains. “She’s still upset with me that I didn’t immediately share your mother’s letter with her.”
You sniffle. “As I should be. Your loyalty should lie with me only, Eunhee.”
“My god.” Seungcheol sighs dramatically. “My soon-to-be wife is already testing me.”
Your cheeks flame again. You reach for the hairbrush Eunhee just used, chucking it in Seungcheol’s general direction. It misses him by a whole two feet. He doesn’t even flinch.
“Looks like we’ve found something you’re bad at.” He teases. You have nothing else to throw, so you just glare. But there’s no heat behind it. Eunhee is trying not to laugh.
Things have changed between you and Seungcheol since his return. Some barrier has broken, you don’t know what exactly, but he feels like a long lost companion that you finally got back. His change in status worried him initially, and he missed being your knight, but he realised quickly enough that being your husband meant he had access to parts of you he didn’t have previously. Like these harmless moments of teasing and bickering. War has sharpened you too, in the time that he was away. You’re quicker now, wittier, and you don’t take little things to heart as much as you used to. You’ve grown thicker skin, which Seungcheol has always rooted for, and it has made you “spicier”. That’s the word he uses, quite proudly in fact, and you feel a certain sense of accomplishment in it as well.
When Wonwoo shows up to go through the tasks for the day, he is not alone. Jeonghan is right behind him, and you are pleasantly surprised to see him in your chambers.
“Nice to see that you’re out and about.” You comment, eyeing the cane he leans heavily on as he makes his way to your sofa. “How is the leg doing?”
“Getting better every day.” Jeonghan replies jovially. He gives Seungcheol a pat on the shoulder, and Eunhee quickly rushes to prepare tea for everyone. Wonwoo, focused as always, launches into your schedule.
While the mourning period is in full swing, castle staff is busy preparing for the next big event, which is Seungcheol’s coronation. Jeonghan was adamant that it needed to be rushed along as quickly as possible. Until that crown is on Seungcheol’s head, the throne remains threatened. You wholeheartedly agree, since you know it would be easy for castle clergy to stage a coup, despite Church interference. Seungcheol has been busy meeting with the commonfolk, his schedule packed and everything designed to make sure his transition to the Throne is as seamless as possible. Jeonghan is dictating his time with an iron fist, so mornings and evenings are the only time you actually see him. You don’t mind. You’ve lived without him for so long that just knowing he is around is enough to set your mind at ease. And you know how important everything he is doing is.
The coronation looms ever nearer, and with that milestone fast approaching, Seungcheol had sat Wonwoo down, revealing to him his intentions, in that after his coronation, he wants to marry you.
To say Wonwoo was shocked was an understatement. He had taken a long moment of silence, just staring at the distance as he processed. You worried you had broken his brain, but soon enough he started planning, as he always does. As your personal steward, your best interests are his greatest priority. And he has made it clear that he is very much on board with you maintaining your status as a reigning queen.
“It is controversial, of course.” He had mumbled after he sat with the information for a whole day. “A previous Knight, your Knight to be exact, now taking you as his wife. People will talk. But you are no stranger to controversy. I’m sure things will settle soon enough. War has a way of making people more flexible to change. Plus, you have a good enough rapport now to pull this off, in my opinion.”
The compliment seems backhanded but you take it, just happy that Wonwoo is on board.
The upcoming coronation in this context becomes more political than you ever thought. Both Jeonghan and Wonwoo believe that your position during the ceremony will define how things will move forward between you and Seungcheol. So, on the day of, you are placed at the very front, surrounded by your staff, still in colors of mourning, but placed prominently enough that it plants a seed in people’s heads. It’s not a direct statement, but it’s almost like the first glimpse.
Seungcheol looks grand.
You saw his attire for the coronation beforehand. You even approved a lot of the changes, but seeing it on him, the fabric filled up by his stature, feels entirely different. He stands tall, broad shouldered and confident, an air around him that demands respect and screams authority. He is studded with all his accomplishments as a Knight, medals that gleam along with the pieces of armor he has also dawned. Arm guards and some chest plates. It’s more symbolic than anything. Jeonghan wants to establish Seungcheol’s transition very prominently from war hero to reigning king, as it solidifies his stance. Both you and Seungcheol trust him completely. And as Seungcheol walks down the cathedral towards the archbishop, the image truly is powerful. You feel a shiver run down your spine, eyeing the strong cut of his jaw, the straight lines of his profile as he walks up to the podium.
You cannot believe you are lucky enough to have him. All of him.
You watch Seungcheol lower his head, and the archbishop smear a small amount of holy oil on the crown of his head. Seungcheol’s sword hangs prominently at his waist, clinking just slightly as he kneels. The Royal Crown is placed on his head. And finally, he stands.
It’s done.
The finality of the moment is overwhelming. With all the noblemen, the clergy, important political families and many members of Seungcheol’s platoon present, Seungcheol takes oath. The air shifts with it, almost like it’s clearing, a new chapter beginning. You close your eyes briefly, keeping your face as neutral as possible, knowing eyes are on you. You fought for this, for Seungcheol’s position, with everything in you. Those closest to you, Wonwoo, Eunhee, saw your struggle. You feel that, for the first time in your life, you have asserted yourself as an integral part of history. You have changed the course of this whole nation, absolutely for the better. Your contributions are life altering, and your presence does not feel secondary anymore.
If only your mother could see you now.
The feast arranged afterwards is grand, but tinged with an air of sobriety. Of course, Seungcheol’s appointment post-war and in lieu of an old King dying in said war means that there can be no hearty celebration. It’s fine, since you know Seungcheol really doesn’t like over the top and gaudy festivities. The meal is rife with conversation but nothing inappropriate. Mingyu is there, a show of his allegiance, and he sits beside you for dinner. You had revealed your predicament to him just last night, and even now he is buzzing with the excitement of a nephew or niece, despite your many attempts to get him to settle. His energy is contagious, and you find your own excitement growing too.
As the feast wraps up, Seungcheol has meetings set with the Council, so he leaves. You are more than happy to retire to your chambers and put your feet up. You grow tired easily these days, and any energy you have left, you would like to reserve for when Seungcheol comes to see you after the sun goes down. You know he might be very late today, given how busy he is, so you let Eunhee change you out of your heavy dress, slipping into your night clothes and easing onto the bed, sighing in relief.
You don’t even remember when you knock out. You are roused from sleep by the feeling of hands lingering on your waist, traveling forward to run affectionately over your protruding stomach. You sigh at the warmth on your back, relaxing into Seungcheol’s arms.
“Missed you.” You mumble.
“I know.” He lays a soft kiss on your shoulder. “It’s very late, my love. Sleep.”
You make a noise of complaint and shift, turning towards him. “No. Missed you.”
When you kiss him, it’s clear what you want. You tug at his shoulders, trying to pull him ever closer. You can feel his lips twist up against yours, a light chuckle leaving his mouth.
“Now?” He asks, but he is already pushing your nightdress up to your hips. “You’re insatiable.”
You hum, not denying it. There’s no point to it. You need him, the image of him at his coronation still lingering in your head.
“It’s your fault.” You mumble into his lips. His fingers find your heat, and he groans at how wet you already are. “You looked so handsome with a crown on your head.”
That gets a loud laugh out of him as he positions you both so you are more comfortable. Some more shuffling and you finally feel him prod at your entrance.
“Were you really thinking dirty thoughts in a cathedral, darling?” He hums, pushing inside. You sigh in relief as he slowly fills you up. “Shameful behavior. What would our archbishop say?”
You don’t even bother answering, because he’s already moving, angled just perfectly the way you want him. Your brain empties out as it always does when he’s with you like this, nothing but pure pleasure simmering under your skin. You’re still half asleep, and that somehow makes everything feel more intense. Seungcheol caresses every part of you he can reach as he gives you exactly what you want.
“Can’t wait to marry you.” He rasps. “Finally, you’ll be mine.”
“‘M already yours.” You reply, back arching as your high builds.
“Mine for the world to see.” He corrects. “Everyone who will look at you will know you belong to me. And after you have my child-”
He groans, speeds up. You’re almost there.
“I’m just gonna put another one in you.”
You cry out as you cum, shaking through it, feeling your insides warm as Seungcheol paints your walls. His voice cracks, trembles. He sighs as you both come down. And finally, he pulls out.
He doesn’t let your body get cold for even a second, enveloping you in his arms and laying kisses to any patch of skin he can find. You bask in his embrace, satisfied, head heavy with the need to sleep. Everything fades into a pinpoint, a place where only you and Seungcheol exist. Through it all, that’s really the only thing that matters.
He is the only thing that matters.
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