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#PRECIOUS BOI AND HIS LADY <3
ratatatastic · 1 month
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congrats to mr maffhew for actually getting it down straight the plate this time!! mr. hitter they did not let me pitch is learning! bit of an airmail but baby i promise you someone in this league is swinging at that!!
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loumauve · 11 days
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the little girl at the bus stop just had the most enthusiastic, info-dump-y of rambles about how the bus that's coming is "literally the best bus" bc it's apparently bigger than the others which you "can see from its shape" and how great this bus ride is going to be
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shidoukanae · 3 months
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i have to wait basically a whole month to get to this chapter and i am going insane with impatience at the sight of this thumbnail holy shit
#the mighty extra#they're meeting!!!#the dragon bois are meeting!!!#they're all going to be in the same room for once!!!#and the comment that's like “the three of them are getting ready to meet their lovers...but Ellie and Helene won't accept it easily”#YOU GET ME#ngl all 3 ships with the dragon bois are fun#Fian/Lyla is actually pretty neat as a ship even past the point of being an established relationship which is new to me lol#Daniel/Ellie is just really dumbly cute. greedy ass merchant x benevolent and socially dense dragon is precious ngl#Paris/Helene is red flag hell from the both of them but god would i be lying if i said I didn't greatly enjoy that in the first place#literally Paris/Helene share so much chemistry somehow and im still utterly amazed at that#especially because Helene doesn't bat an eye over Paris's flirtations and even warns him not to long for her#(and god do i still think about Paris shaking while trying to touch Helene. what does he know instinctually about her and what is Helene-#hiding to the point she tells Paris said instincts are warning him not to crave for her. like. im sorry but something's up with Helene and-#im convinced Paris is the only one who has caught onto that fact so far re: his comparison to her & Lyla & his strange instinctual shaking)#i think so much about Paris/Helene can you tell#manipulative antagonistic lady x the self-interested dragon dude is such a fun pairing i CRAVE for more of them#(also why does only Paris face that instinctual rejection towards Helene and neither of the other dragons? curious~)#(does Paris's body happen to remember Helene from the OG story? bc i do wonder if that's a plot twist w/ them)
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inkskinned · 10 months
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it isn't really complicated, but i still can't tell my grandma about it. my girlfriend is also my boyfriend and i'm her girlboyfriend and there are a lot of days this feels like smoothing sheets over a good mattress. it feels like getting a cup of good hot chocolate. we paint our nails lesbian flag pink, and i watch her eyelashes make shadows on her cheeks. she wants to kiss me because i am really good at baking, and i want to kiss her because when i am freaked out about how i spilled coffee, she just hands me extra napkins and helps me clean. he is so handsome i want to eat my fist. they once just winked at me and i couldn't talk for like the next fifteen minutes.
i haven't seen the L word and i was raised catholic. my earliest experiences with queer relationships were through harrowing conversations and hushed questions and blood on the ground. i didn't like boys soon enough. what, are you gay? asked to a 6th grader, almost like a demand.
when she is asleep next to me and i can feel the dreams run up and down her body, i pretend we are both somewhere in the stars. i like to picture a future full of fruit trees, and writing him poetry. sometimes she wakes up, has a whole conversation with me, goes back to sleep, and utterly forgets that we ever even spoke. she is always kind to me, even in that liminal half-there ghost. i like the croaked, raw way her voice sounds in the very-early morning, the way she always seems surprised i'm still here, and home.
on the internet, there are a lot of people who would be annoyed by both of us, and how labels must be pruned into orchids. a box has to hold and define the insides. people must be organized.
we went on a date last night, and the host said, oh, table for 2 nice ladies? neither of us are ladies, but also we are very much 2 nice ladies. i have been wearing her sweater nonstop. he has frequently been forced into wearing my taylor swift official merch quarter-zip because i was worried about him catching a chill, and you simply cannot be cool in an official taylor swift quarter-zip. do not worry: they listen to better music than i do, and their voice sounds like leaves falling.
i wear the skirts and makeup and i am better with spackle and know how to drive stick. recently someone commented on my work - you're just a man trying to reappropriate lesbian spaces. sometimes i feel like she is a clementine to me, and sometimes i feel like he is a german shepherd and sometimes i feel they are a bird. i like watching his hands over a guitar. can i write this poem, even? how can you be a lesbian if you're sometimes with a man? or you are the man?
how can i, huh. you know, our first date lasted 3 days. we'd been flirting for over a year before i finally asked her out. i'd already written her into poetry. she'd already written me into songs.
last night, in the late night, when they woke up again, confused about where they were, they said - oh, thank god. this is your arm. there's just something so precious to me about the specifics, the denotation that the arm was (thank god!) mine. i really liked that definition. i liked the obvious relief because i understand it.
i say yeah, i have a partner. i mean - oh. thank god. it's your arm.
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mv1simp · 8 days
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for anon's request: max with another driver's younger sis, same age gap <3
Girls Need Love ♥️
Max Verstappen x Sainz!Reader
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girls can never say they need it, girls can never say now, oh now (give it to me like you need it, baby)
You're the youngest cousin in the Sainz family, your papa's most precious princessa. Unlike your cousins and brother, who get to openly show off their many romantic conquests, you have been raised to be demure and shy about boys. But when you meet your older brother's friend, Max, you can't control the desires within you. You want him, and you're ready to show him just how much.
Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, sexual tension, size kink, dom!Max, sub!Reader, 5k WC
It was no secret that your older brother, Carlos, was a notorious playboy. He gets it from his father, your tias had always gushed, he was always a ladies' man too! Growing up, you'd always see Carlos easily charm his way with younger and older women alike, his devilishly good looks just too hard to resist. And he wasn't discreet about it either - you'd had to bang many a time on the wall separating your rooms on family vacation when him and his fling of the month had been a touch too enthusiastic with their activities. Your large family would always laugh when they'd emerge from their room to join brunch, well into the late morning, and tease Carlos that the tequila and oyster paella last night must have had a kick to it, ay carino?
You'd join in on the teasing, giggling and enjoying the blush Carlos would always get when you called him el estupido rompecorazones, an idiotic heartstealer. When you were younger, you had always thought that one day your tios and tias would tease you too, on family vacation when you returned from a lazy afternoon stroll with a boyfriend, all flushed - but as you grew older, you'd accepted it as just a childhood fantasy. You weren't shy by any means (you had Spanish blood after all! A Sainz through and through) but you didn't possess that natural flirtatious nature, the ability to give those romantic smoulders that your older brother seems to have been born with. And when you focused on your career more and more, working as a sought after financial advisor to your brother and many of his athlete colleagues, you found that by age 26 you'd only had a small handful of short relationships.
The one time you'd brought a college boyfriend home - your first and only serious relationship - your father had certainly had a very different attitude towards him compared to his usual friendliness to Carlos' girlfriends. You'd told your papa afterwords how embarrassing it'd been that he had interrogated your boyfriend over dinner, wanting to know what his future plans were on a first meeting, only for him to ruffle your curls and press a kiss to your forehead to melt away the upset expression you had. Ay, mi princesa, I have to make sure all these tontos are good enough for you, hmm? You're far more precious to me than your idiota brother and cousins.
Although his words were meant to soothe your frustrations, they just made you feel uneasy - you were also a hot blooded Sainz, you also wanted to passionately love and be loved! But it seemed that as time passed and everyone around you brought their paramours to the Mallorca vacation home, you would always remain the sweet little princessa, the youngest and innocent cousin.
You'd put your love life to the side for the past year, focusing on your rapidly expanding business portfolio. So when Carlos mentioned one of his friends had signed a very generous contract this season, and needed advice of how to invest a good chunk of it, you'd immediately said yes without knowing who it was. You hadn't expected to find yourself sitting across the table from Max Verstappen. Of course, you and Max had met many times when he and Carlos had raced on the same junior team - but you'd been much younger then. You remember always thinking the serious, intense Dutch boy had been so handsome, had even developed a schoolgirl's crush on him - but as your older brother's racing team mate who was notorious for enraged outbursts, he was off limits to you in your family's eyes and had ignored you most of the time.
But now, years later, things were quite different with you being a 26 year old woman, fully matured into your gorgeous curves and thick lips, and those famous Sainz wide brown eyes, framed with long lashes. Even now though, the tall Dutchman made your heart flutter when he laughed at your apology for the delay in setting up a meeting, your idiota tonto of an older brother had conveniently forgotten to mention that his friend happened to be the current F1 world champion. You two shared a delicious lunch at the beach club overlooking the stunning Monaco marina, stimulating conversation flowing over a glass of light white wine and fresh oysters. Although you discussed various business plans, you were surprised to find how easy it was to laugh at many other things with the handsome driver, from childhood memories to how you’d found college in London to his two cats named after nightclubs and your one dog dutifully named after your childhood favourite apper - Snoop.
You couldn't help but blush whenever Max smiled at you with his enticing lips, looking so gorgeous with his tousled blonde hair and dressed in a rare white linen shirt that showed off his broad shoulders and thick biceps.
After you'd covered the different investment options he could go for and he had selected the ones that peaked his interest, you wrapped up the business meeting by reaching into your Chanel purse to pull out your card - you always had a rule to pay for your clients and give them a first class experience.
To your surprise, Max had already given his black Amex to the waiter when you had touched up your lipgloss in the bathroom earlier. At your gentle protests, he explained that his mother would kill him if he didn't look after Carlos' younger sister - as would your father, he joked. You laughed easily with him as he walked you back to your car, a cute Mini Cooper, agreeing that yes, your papa probably would have the head of any man who didn't treat his princessa right. As you drove off, you couldn't help the longing in your heart for wanting Max to pay because he cared for you, found you to be a beautiful woman, rather than because he was looking after Carlos' younger sister.
You made sure to put those unprofessional desires to the back of your mind at your next meeting 2 weeks later, this time at your small but luxurious office in a ocean-facing building in downtown Monaco. You'd recently moved here with your small team, you explained as you greeted him at the entryway to guide him to the elevators, as so much of your clientele was based in the area. In the reflective surface of the elevator walls, you don't miss how his intense blue eyes rake down the back of your curvy figure, taking in how the dress you’d specifically chosen for today hugs you just right, especially over your ass - where his gaze lingers for a second too long.
You’re blushing again as you exit, pleased that you had drawn his attention. He remains the perfect gentleman for the rest of your meeting, listening intently as you break down the personalised investment plan your company has created for him. He’s very impressed with your selection, every option carefully curated to preference he’d mentioned at your lunch, even in passing, and presented in a minimalist layout, just as he liked it. His praise brings back the same desire and want you felt, unable to dampen it this time.
Over the next three months you meet Max to review the physical investment options you’d agreed on. If you’re being honest, this sort of task would generally be managed by a more junior executive at your small firm - but you told yourself that you were choosing to meet him yourself because he was such a VIP client, and not because you felt a rapidly growing attraction to the handsome blonde. And after touring the various developing high rise complexes or promising start up businesses that his investments were going to, you two would always end up going for lunch and a drink together afterwards. And sometimes you’d see him on his morning jogs while you walked your dog. Seeing Max kneel down to play with Snoop had been so adorable you’d asked if he knew a good bakery in the area, hoping he would join you. To your delight he did, taking you for a rich hot chocolate and freshly baked croissant that ended up happening regularly, especially once he invited you to join his group for padel. But even when you started seeing him so often, Max remained the perfect gentleman, never letting his gaze drift or hands wander after that one time in the elevator. So you reminded yourself not to read into it when he offered to show you his favourite sights of Monaco, as you’d still recently moved here, taking you for long drive along the beautiful Azure coast.
Despite your internal turmoil, you’d dressed in a pretty floral minidress, hoping he might enjoy the view of your soft thighs. But instead, you hadn’t been able to stop yourself from admiring how sexy he’d looked when driving, one hand on the wheel, showcasing his thick, veiny arms and the other resting on the console. As he’d chatted away, confidently navigating the winding roads, you couldn’t help but wonder what he’d do if you redirected his large hand to grip your thigh instead. You’d instantly blushed when you heard him calling your name, realising that you’d tuned him out and blamed it on the heat. So he took an exit and next thing you were enjoying the most delicious strawberry gelato you’d tasted, moaning from the taste and licking up a rivulet that had run down your hand. When you looked over to Max to thank him for introducing this place, you have to hold back a gasp at how hungrily his gaze is fixed on your pouting lips. But then the sun catches your eye at a sharp angle and you blink, and when you look again the look is gone and he’s laughing at the sight of Snoop desperately trying to lick your ice cream out the car window.
Your poor little heart can’t take all this one sided attraction, you desperately needed to know if Max felt any desire to you like you felt for him. So a couple of weeks later, when you were meeting him for the last official signing of asset acquisitions at one of the downtown Monaco high rise buildings, you make sure you’re wearing another one of your irresistible dresses in an effort to catch his eye. As you reach past him to grab the pen he’d sign with, you can’t resist pressing your soft, plush tits against his large bicep, which looked so good again in a half zipped knit sweater. His gaze automatically flickers down to your low cut sweetheart neckline, lingering on your cleavage pushed against him a beat to long to be considered polite, before he draws his attention back up to your blushing face, to your pink glossed lips that you now bite. You don't miss the dark hunger swirling in his blue eyes, the tension thickening and sparks crackling, his hand reaching up to brush your cheek as both of you lean in-
Then your phone rings, your brother's contact photo lighting up the screen, ruining the moment. You curse internally at Carlos for cockblocking you even when he wasn't physically present, but you take his call just in case it was important (it wasn't. The idiota just wanted to complain about how Spain had lost the football to England). When you furiously whisper at Carlos to shut the hell up before hanging up and turning back around, Max is back to the almost infuriating gentleman self he is around you, handing you the signed papers with a polite smile. You try not to let the disappointment on your face show, because you couldn't figure out why the Dutchman didn't seem interested in pursuing you when you'd seen him out at the Monaco clubs, arms around pretty girls and flirting easily. Did he not find you pretty like he found them?
After the paperwork is all done and Max is walking you back to your car, he offers to take you out for a final celebration, this time an intimate dinner instead of your usual sunny beachside lunches. You spent the better part of an hour trying to pick the most tempting outfit, and then another hour applying your makeup to flatter your already pretty, dark features. You wanted to look absolutely perfect for him, knowing this might be the last chance you'd have in a while to use work as an excuse. And when Max saw you walk out as he leaned against his sleek discreet black Audi, you couldn't stop the pleased flush that spread across your cheeks when he raked his gaze over your short form, taking in how the elegant burgundy full length dress clung to your curves, complimenting you on how lovely you looked tonight, even more so than usual. You sweetly returned the compliment, which wasn't hard to do as Max looked so handsome in a baby blue button up and fitted pants, his broad muscles and large frame perfectly highlighted for you to ogle.
And after intimate Spanish dinner over soft candelight, laughing and sharing your latest stories of the week, enjoying more than a single glass of red wine for once, you couldn't help but hope that this would be it, the night where something finally happened between the two of you, because surely Max had just been holding back out of professional boundaries, yes? So after Max generously paid for dinner - as per usual - you accepted his offer to drive you home. The gold sparkly heels you'd worn worked very well to make your ass pop even more as you confidently walked - something that you made sure to capitalise on by walking ahead of Max as you left the restaurant.
And you'd been so sure all signs pointed to romance when he pulled up in front of your apartment, and you asked if he'd like to come enjoy the night view from your balcony with another glass of wine, and he'd briefly hesitated before saying Yes, of course, Schatje. You beam at him, melting at his use of the Dutch nickname, which he'd told you meant sweetheart when you'd curiously asked him when he began absentmindedly calling you that a few weeks ago. And it felt so natural to be up on your balcony with him, giggling with a bottle of wine after trashing him at Monopoly, sitting so close that you could feel his warmth radiating through his shirt as you kicked off your heels and sat down on the outdoor settee. And when he continued talking easily about all the ways he was certain you cheated when you lean your head against his strong shoulder, you took it as another promising sign. But then, when you'd looked up at him with your brown doe eyes and thick lashes, desperately hoping he would lean in because you thought the moment had been right - you'd only been met with disappointment after a long, long moment when he turned his soft blue eyes away. He’d tensed, saying he was sorry for keeping you up so late, he should head off now - avoiding your gaze as your eyes swelled as you watched him leave out the front door.
You didn’t see Max for the next two weeks after that, avoiding walking your usual weekend route or tagging along to the padel games. You felt so embarrassed that perhaps you’d read the signals wrong, and also so frustrated that you couldn’t be more like your older brother who had no problem flirting blatantly with others or giving them an open mouthed kiss. Would Max even like a girl who did that? Wasn’t he meant to make the first move as proof that he wanted you? Glumly, you moped about at work and at home, watching Bridgerton and eating strawberry ice cream out of the carton. When your family chat blew up as it approached the time of the year where you’d all meet up and spend time at the Mallorca home, you had already texted that you weren’t coming - but then found yourself having to answer multiple angry calls in Spanish from various relatives and decided it was just easier to give in.
Packing a bag with the essentials - sunglasses, bikinis and raunchy romance novels - you headed to the vacation home a week early to unwind and prepare yourself for the chaos that was your loving family, knowing that everyone would turn up with their latest boyfriend and girlfriend and you’d be teased about how you were too sweet and shy as usual. Sweet and shy your ass, you thought moodily, sipping on a frozen margarita you made as you lounged in a bikini by the pool.
Schatje?
You whirl around, thinking you were imaging things now, but there Max stood, looking as hot as ever in that favourite white linen shirt of yours. And it was open down the front too, revealing his toned broad chest to you for the first time. You got so distracted that you didn’t hear him the first time asking what you were doing there - to which you had to each arch a brow and haughtily reply that this was the Sainz family home, shouldn't he explain why he was here?
Turns out Carlos had apparently thought Max was too keyed up the past few weeks and getting twitchily close to the Ferraris on race weekends. So your idiota brother had tossed him the spare keys to unwind in the empty villa before everyone showed up - except for you. But I’ll leave, you were here first - Max had said, but you sighed, still wanting to be an accomodating host like your family had raised you to be, despite your hurt feelings, and generously said the villa was huge, you two could easily just stay out of each other’s way?
So you did both stay, keeping to opposite ends of the villa - at least for the first few hours, anyway. Max had been unable to resist the smell of the enchiladas you’d cooked up for dinner and you hadn’t been able to stop drinking the ice cold G&Ts he poured whenever you asked. And a couple of days passed like that, you two easily slipping into friendship again, ignoring the tension on your balcony from last time. But seeing Max in your summer home stirred up that desire within you, made you ache for him and leave your bikini bottoms all sticky and wet after you’d stare at his shirtless, muscley back from behind your sunglasses all afternoon. It was pathetic, really, that you had the real man right there in front of you but couldn’t seem to charm him.
And the torture didn’t stop even when he was out of your sight, when you woke up flushed in the middle of the night, heady from the pleasure of a recurrent dream you’d been having lately about a certain tall blonde Dutchman having his way with you as he bent you over your office desk and dirtily whispered a you going to let me cum inside you, schatje? Instead of helplessly pining, you decided to give your frustrated little pussy some well deserved relief that night. Opening your French doors out the the garden, you made yourself comfortable on the soft outdoor sofa on the patio as you slid up your silky nightdress and took your favourite bullet vibrator right where you ached the most. It was risky, sure - but it was your house, and it was far too hot in the summer heat to get worked up indoors. Besides, Max was asleep, all the way on the other side of the villa. There was no chance of him hearing what you were doing this many doors down.
So that’s why you didn’t hold your sweet moans back, getting louder and louder, eyes fluttering shut from the delicious pleasure your toy was bringing you, moaning his name on your lips just like you’d been doing in the dream. What you hadn't yet realised was that Max was very accustomed to being up at odd hours, gaming and sim racing away - but the summer heat had been intolerable as he ran warm anyway. And you certainly didn’t notice that your pretty show had caught the attention of the very man it was dedicated to, who was out on a late night walk to cool off.
He’d planned on minding his own business, truly, when he’d seen you throw your head back in pleasure - knowing that you were forbidden fruit as Carlo's little sister, having grown up protected and so naively experienced to the world of sin Max had been exposed to. You were far too precious, too pure, for someone as destructive and aggressive as him to touch. Really, he had planned on walking right back to his room, taking a cold shower and maybe jerking off to hypnotising image of you in a silk slip under the moonlight.
But then he heard you breathily call his name, your sweet voice calling out for Maxie, all high pitched as you remained lost in your fantasy. It’s what you’d called him when you were little, watching him admiringly from the junior Redbull garage as he and Carlos walked back from a race.
All shreds of self control he’d had to avoid getting involved with his friend’s sweet, protected younger sister - all got tossed aside. So when you became frustrated with your toy, biting your lip and scrunching your eyebrows cutely because it just wasn’t hitting the way you wanted - he couldn’t resist huskily asking if you want to try out the real thing, prinses?
You gasped, snapping your soft thighs closed and jolting upright, only to look horrified as you saw Max leaning against the patio railing, thick arms crossed across his shirtless figure. His hungry gaze and wicked smirk made it clear he’d seen you playing with your most intimate parts while moaning his name like a desperate little slut. You’d stammered out an apology, trying to talk your way out of the embarrassing scene, half painfully embarrassed and half furious he'd watched you so intensely even though he'd rejected you before. Max tilts his head, expression unreadable as he takes in your weak excuses. To your surprise, he stalks forward, standing in front of your seated form, murmuring that if you were truly sorry you’d make it up to him by picking up where you'd left off your cute little show.
You blinked, face flushed, asking him confusedly that you didn’t understand, you’d thought that he wasn’t interested in you, hadn’t found you pretty, after all the months of tension he’d walked away on the balcony-
Oh, schatje, Max sighed, large palm reaching out to brush your plush cheeks as he looked down at your upset face, his finger lingering against your pouting lips. I wanted you the moment I saw you in that black dress at our very first lunch. Your doe eyes widened as he continues, explaining how truly, he’d held back on his twisted desires for his friend's little sister, who he was expected to look after - but instead had been having filthy thoughts about, hmm? He’d used his other hand to palm the growing bulge then, making you gasp at the size even though his sweats. The things I’ve been thinking about, sweet girl…they're far too dirty for such a pure angel like you.
Heat spread through your body at his words, a dusty pink flush on your face. Shyly, you spread your legs wide open again, letting him see all of you, all of the wetness that dripped down as you weren’t wearing any panties underneath your nightdress. You wanted to show him just how much you wanted this, how you weren’t some precious little doll that everyone thought you were. So even though it made you blush furiously, you looked right at him as you leaned back on the settee and slowly slid a cute manicured finger down your slit before entering yourself. The desire in Max's wide pupils was obvious as you moaned his name again, coyly mentioning that you'd always wondered if he'd be able to better stretch you out, your tiny fingers and toys couldn’t do the job?
You finally break him then, and he growls and bends down to pull you towards him, his broad shoulders blocking out the sky but his sea blue eyes just as gorgeous to look at as the stars. You giggle at how enamoured he looks gazing down at you, but then you’re gasping into his mouth as he leans down to capture your lips with his. And your gasps turn to moans as the filthy kiss preview what comes next. Soon his lips are trailing down your arched collarbone, over your sensitive tan nipples that Max swirls his skilled tongue around, murmuring that your tits were so goddamn pretty as his large hands squeeze the juicy flesh. You’re tangling your fingers in his soft hair as he teasingly suckles on your hardened nubs, arching into his mouth and tossing your head back.
And his wet kisses move lower, over your thick hips, and then he’s blowing softly over your exposed dripping pussy, holding your soft thighs open with a strong grip. Then he’s leaving slow licks up your dripping slit with a broad swipe as he chuckles that he’d been dreaming about this, too.
It’s all too much for you and you’re cumming all over his wicked tongue, and then his wide fingers, and then - once you beg for it and make his ears go pink from hearing you moan Maxie - you also cum on his thick cock. It’s just as pretty and swollen as you’d fantasied about, splitting you open in a way no man had ever been able to before. You’re screaming and squirting around it, eyes rolling back at the mind blowing pleasure you’re finally recieving.
He kisses you sweetly after you both have had your fill of multiple rounds, murmuring how good you’d been for him, how much he loved it, loved you. You blush under the praise and fall asleep on his broad chest, still lying there on the outdoor settee and enjoying the warmth of his muscled arms protecting you from the cool night’s breeze.
And when morning comes you’re suddenly anxious that it was just a one time thing, that he would tell you he disliked it, that he should never have slept with Carlos’ sister. But to your delight it it seems Max had been holding back on how much he’d been falling for you too. He shows you just how much after the two of you go for a swim in the azure seawater and eat a lazy brunch by the pool. He’s raking his heated gaze shamelessly over your juicy ass, droplets still drying off as you lounge on the sunbed in a little bikini. You’ve barely finished your mango smoothie when he’s yanking the knots and palming greedily with his large hands. Fuck, do you know how many times I thought about ripping open those tight dresses of yours and doing this?
You smirk rather smugly and turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, where he’s begun sliding his raging erection along your bouncy cheeks, your soft flesh enveloping the hard length. Why do you think I wore them? You respond teasingly. Definitely not what I normally wear to a client meeting.
He growls, speeding up his thrusts along your fat cheeks and delivering harsh smack to your ass as punishment for your seductive techniques. You squeal excitedly from the tingles shooting to your clit from his forceful slap. You jiggle your hips tantalisingly, pushing back on him and he licks his lips before delivering more harsh smacks to your quickly reddening ass. You moan wantonly, ass lifted up in the air and your blushing face buried deep in a cushion when he splatters his cum all over your back, coating your caramel skin.
You swipe a finger through it to teasingly lick it up, sultrily commented on how tasty his cum was. His eyes widen at your unexpected dirty words, blood rushing to his cock again. And then you’re walking off to go prep dinner ingredients, letting him enjoy the view of your bouncing bum and leaving him on edge. He’d certainly made you wait, after all. A Sainz was nothing if not petty when they wanted to be. You play nice that afternoon, before springing your attack in the evening by slyly asking him if he’d teach you how to please him with your mouth next?
He’d choked on his empanada, his expression cutely flustered at the pleasurable idea. You’d fluttered your lashes and said please, Maxie, I want to make you feel good like you did to me last night and he was a goner when he looked into your brown doe eyes. So he taught you, his fingers threading through your pretty curls as you look up adoringly at him from where you kneeled. He quickly realised that although your eyes looked wide and innocent, your sweet mouth was anything but.
Safe to say, when your family finally joined you later on and took one look at how their princessa had ensared a 6 foot Dutch millionaire who followed her around like a lovesick puppy, you eared a new nickname. El tentadora de Monaco. You’d giggled from your seat in Max’s warm lap, ignoring the bewildered gaze of the idiota Carlos as even your father had given the new couple his blessing. The temptress of Monaco had a nice ring to it, sí?
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A/N: Hope you enjoyed anon!! As always lmk what you think and feel free to send more requests!!
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sukunas-wife · 9 months
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Sealed 3
Part: 1 2 4
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“Lady Y/n please settle down. You’ll make yourself sick if you-” Mori paused hearing the lullaby playing throughout the sound of the Hospital. You turned to Wasuke he didn’t look to please, he sat arms crossed over his chest staring blankly at the floor, his eyes flickering up to meet yours.
“Well, he’s alive.”
You waited eagerly until a nurse came to guide you all in, over time you wormed your way into the Itadori’s life making a point to become good friends with Kaori and Jin in the brief time before her due date. You know one thing you’d never trust her, Kenjaku to be exact, which is why it surprised you when she asked Jin if they could assign you as a God Mother if anything happened. Jin suggested maybe after Wasuke, you didn’t have a problem saying you were a neighbor if they ever needed you, you were next door.
Walking in the room you rushed over to Kaori seeing your son, except in this life he lacked the little marking on his forehead that matched his dad perfectly, but he was crying painfully loud. “Oh Kaori he’s precious, a little crying prince.” You tried to laugh it off before you squeezed her in a hug and she smiled “My little Yuji.” She tried to rock him Your heart skipped when he let out a loud cry hands shaking face reddening, you smiled at her with a loss of air “Yuji?”
She nodded at your question explaining it was a decision made for them. It didn’t feel right to name him anything else, you smiled and looked at his little round face, “hold him, you’ll be in his life as long as your around. Maybe he’ll calm down.”
She tried to offer Yuji, you hesitated looking at Wasuke and Jin, they were talking. You looked at Kaori, she smiled weakly and you nodded, as soon as you placed his head on your chest he feel into place the way he had once. Your teary eyes mixed with how quiet and calm he became when his little fist took hold of your shirt called attention. “Look at that.” Wasuke say elbowing Jin.
You smiled at Yuji’s little scrunched up face before turning to smile at Kaori, she smiled at you while trying to move around in the hospital bed, “He’ll be lucky to have you in his life, it seems like he likes you already.”
You spent the day with Kaori in the hospital when Jin and Wasuke left to bring her some take out and get a few things ready. You were sat by her bed holding Yuji who took hold of your finger, he was holding for life, you moved him around seeing that star mark of your binding vow. You looked over at Kaori, she was smiling but looked tired, “Take care of him y/n, if anything happens make sure he knows what it’s like to have a loving mother.” With a soft laugh you nodded, “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’re going to both be fine. You’ll get up, take him home and have a happy little family.” Your smile would’ve been reassuring if it actually reached your eyes, but your eyes held the trace of faint tears. Tears of the memory when Yuji was Born screaming, when Sukuna was so proud to see his boy being held up to show he was the first heir. The tight grip he held on Sukuna’s finger, the way Yuji was quick to nuzzle into your chest and not let go. How Sukuna didn’t leave your side for weeks wanting to take the first few weeks to admire his wife and first born son. Back when Sukuna had a sense of Humanity still. Now you could feel it, the evil that was slowly seeping into the world as the seals that held Sukuna captive weakened. Kaori had fallen asleep when you kissed Yuji’s forehead, running your thumb over his cheek when he yawned.
“Sleep little prince, I’ll be here always.” Nuzzling your forehead against his he cooed before he briefly opened his eyes, his little brown eyes were golden in the light of the afternoon soon. You held onto him while he slept until Jin and Wasuke returned. Mori stood to the side, watching it all. Wondering how different you were before you picked him up out of the scum he slept in every night. How could the tyrant he learned to be Sukuna have been your husband? Was he not the cruel King of Curses everyone had logged and preached him to be? Were you as cruel of a monster before the sun set on the Golden Age?
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“My condolences” was all you said as you bowed to Wasuke before entering the shrine room to pay your respects. It hadn’t been long after Kaori and Jin came home, they found her dead, details hadn’t been shared but seeing the split on her skull at the mortuary you had known well enough what it was. Jin followed soon after leaving Wasuke with his grandson. Kaori had made it know that she trusted you completely with Yuji, which lead to you signing the legal documents for becoming a Godmother. That was one decision Wasuke agreed with entirely.
———————
There you sat on the floor of Wasuke’s living room, cooing and playing with Yuji not to long before his first birthday. Pressing on the bottom of his feet while he kicked back, “Look at you little baby” you wiggled his legs and he giggled, “Getting all ready to walk! You’re growing up so fast!” Yuji cooed before sitting up with a baby grunt and staring up at you, you let him crawl into your lap and sit there before you squeezed, “Aw my little Yuji.” Kissing his head and squeezing him in one more hug you let him sit in your lap, clapping along to whatever was on the tv. “Mm your grandpa’s taking a while longer than expected, wanna eat and get ready for bed?” Yuji cooed mindlessly watching the tv until you pulled him up with you, he squirmed turning to look at you, his little chubby hands on your cheeks trying to squish your face, “baaba.” “Mhmm, Baaba, Bottle.” He kept cooing until you gave him a warm bottle.
“Well, has a cold so it you and I.” Yuji was still drinking out of his bottle laying his head on your shoulder. The other hand squished between both your chests, his eyes looking up at you. “You still look so much like your daddy… speaking of him, his presence is stronger I wonder if something really is changing…”
Yuji had fallen asleep against your shoulder, soft breaths as he barely held onto the bottle. Slipping it out of his hand you made your way to your room, Morí was finishing setting up a bassinet cushion on your bed.
“Everything’s ready Lady Y/n” you smiled “Thank you Morinozuka.” He bowed before leaving and you laid Yuji down, tucking him in with a blanket. Running your fingers over his little fists to uncurl his fingers, leaning down you kissed his forehead and he whined, “Good night little prince.”
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Soon you were walking a young Yuji to school and back. Watching how he ran and jumped on playground before you got to the school. He purposely woke up early to be able to play, “mommy!” Your eyes snapping to Yuji when he cried sitting on the stairs to a slide. Rushing over to him you knelt to see him cradling his knee. “What’s wrong did you get hurt?” He sniffled little cheeks getting red as he puffed them out.
“my knee.” You pouted with him when he moved his hand, “Don’t worry baby, I’ll fix it right up.” Pulling Yuji’s back pack off your shoulder you opened a little tin, it had bandaids you’d infused with cursed energy. Pulling out a bigger bandaid with a smiling chibi tigger your laid it over his knee, and he sniffled flinching, “Don’t worry, when you take it off you’ll be okay again.” Taking his face in your hands you kissed his forehead and he tried to hug you “thank chu.” He placed a wet kiss on your cheek that you wiped off when he wasn’t looking because you didn’t wanna hurt his little feelings.
“Alright! Let’s get you to school, I gotta buy some groceries for later.” You took his hands and he swung them back and forth, “Can we have noodles?”
He looked up at you starry eyed with a little bit of drool, you nodded, “Noddles with rice and fried egg?” He nodded excitedly “yeah!”
“Alright Yuji’s specialty to Start off the week it is.” You swung your hand with his and smiled looking ahead, stopping outside the schools gate where a teacher was waiting, “Bye mommy!” He hugged your side before rushing in, you waved at him when he turned back, “you didn’t say bye!” He screamed running back, “Bye Yuji,” he nodded running back before stopping again, “You didn’t tell me have a good day!” The teacher giggled when you smiled at her “Have a good day Yuji!” He nodded before you called him to come back, he was walking back and started running when he saw you kneel with open arms, when he ran into your hug you shook him side to side and he giggled. He leaned back from your hug “I love you Yuji, be good ,play nice and have a good day okay?” He gave a single nod, “Okay!” “Bye mommy love you!” He took off running, waving back at you with a closed eye smile.
“He’s very cute, everyone loves him and he’s very easy to make friends with.” The teacher smiled at you, “Yeah? That’s good, at least I know I don’t have to worry about him. Thank you.” You bowed your head to the teacher who brushed you off, “Please the pleasure is ours, Yuji is a little ray of sun on rainy days honestly.”
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“Wasuke.” Was all you could say when he told you what he knew, “Yuji’s mother Kaori was a curse. It wasn’t hard to tell but I knew my son couldn’t handle it. I’m old in age and you might think I’m crazy, a loony old man. I failed to save my own son, I let him get taken by a curse, I could have saved him. But I was a coward, I saw that woman with her skull split open, she was dead and she should’ve stayed dead. But that thing living inside her…” you placed a hand on his.
“I understand what you mean Wasuke, I couldn’t save someone precious to me long ago to a curse. I could see them as long as I’ve been alive. That’s a world so cruel I wouldn’t wish for anyone to have to live through it…” your blank stare on his hand as he turned his hand over, “Who did you lose y/n?” His stare was fixed on you.
“I should tell you, it’s the only parting gift I have to give. Yuji was my son in what would be his previous life, his Father was a powerful man. One day a group sorcerer’s turned on him, sealing him away. His presence is strong in this world still, he’s alive. Yuji was our only son, and they took him from us dealing him in time to be reborn in a time distant from our. It was a mistake on their part. I was locked in a box called the Prison Realm, a place where Time stands still and you’ll lose your sanity before you die. A man following an ancient tale found that Box where our capturer’s died. I haven’t the slightest idea how he did it but he set me free in exchange I bless his wife with a healthy pregnancy, I did and for years I built a following. Before that, on the day of the attack Yuji and I made a binding Vow that I would find him again, it’s why he has that star shaped mark on his forearm. When I tell him this same story and he understands completely the Vow will be completed, and they’ll disappear.”
Wasuke looked at you, thinking over your words while staring at your arm where you had rolled up your sleeve, it was the same mark as Yuji. He started laughing head thrown back into his pillow “They could say I’m crazy. But they would label you insane, but at least we’d both have middle ground on the truth here.” He squeezed your hand weakly and you squeezed back, “Take care of Yuji, your son, my only grandson.” You nodded, “I will, I’ll do anything to make sure i never lose him or see him get hurt again. For what felt like endless nights I relived the same memory of him crying, screaming and reaching out, and I’ll be damned if I ever let that happen again.”
Wasuke nodded before patting your hand, “He’ll be getting home soon, you should be there for him, especially today.” You felt his words deeply, the ache in your chest, he was predicting his own death. You nodded before bowing at his bed side, “Thank you for everything Wasuke Itadori, I pray you find peace in the afterlife.”
He snorted waving you off, “find peace in this life or you’ll never have it. Now go.”
———————
You were at home, it was quiet, the sound of boiling brother, the window cracked open letting the sound of crickets and bird coo’s fill the kitchen. Yuji had moved in with you when Wasuke was moved into the Hospital. Morí was at the table filling out a book from your old shrine. You had started shrine work here while Yuji was at school making sure to keep it private.
The sound of scribbling and your slicing of vegetables stopped when you looked out the window. It was setting, the sun, everything was quiet when you felt a sense of dread and a wave of cold wash over you. Scribbling stopped when the phone line began to ring, you knew what it was. “Hello, am I speaking with l/n y/n?”
“Yes, this is her.” A shaky breath, “Wasuke Itadori has passed away, I offer my condolences. Yuji Itadori is here and filling out the necessary paper work. We’ll give you a call when all the necessary preparations have been made.”
Thanking the nurse you hung up, trembling slightly as you tried to keep slicing vegetables. “Wasuke..” it didn’t take long for your noodles and rice to finish.
“Where’s Yuji? He should be home by no-” your entire body shook as you gasped, your heart thrumming in your chest, “ Ryomen…”
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dexlexia · 10 months
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how to deal with 3 warlords (while pregnant) - cross guild x reader
pairing: dracule mihawk x buggy the clown x reader x crocdile rating: 18+ summary: Three warlords, three of the most vicious men in all of the world. And somehow, someway they are at your beck and call. What started out as an arrangement with Sir Crocodile turned into a liaison with Mihawk and somewhere along the way you ended up in bed with the clown. tags: long fic (over 5k), polyam!cross guild, smut, pwp, table sex, couch sex, lingerie, slight possessive behaviour, good ol' time, fingering, outdoor sex, clothed sex, cowgirl position.
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Three warlords, three of the most vicious men in all of the world. And somehow,someway they are at your beck and call. What started out as an arrangement with Sir Crocodile turned into a liaison with Mihawk and somewhere along the way you ended up in bed with the clown. 
Now you were living quite well in a large manor on some island in the southeast. You spent most of your days reading, you had even taken up a little gardening. Anything you wanted the Cross Guild got for you. Not many people were living like you on the Grand Line. 
Then it happened. You ended up pregnant by one of the idiots. One of the three men was the father of your child. You expected to be on the next boat off the island, but none of the men were willing to send you off. They wanted to make sure their little lady was taken care of. While they bicker over who the father was, they each made sure you were taken care of. 
  ”Can't you hurt now.“ Crocodile told you as he brushed his fingers through your hair, ”If it isn't my brat this time, it will be next time.“ And he almost smiled around the cigar in his mouth.
So that was how you became the lovely wife to three of the most dangerous men on the high seas. And sometimes you wished their boat would sink. 
At six months pregnant it wasn't easy to get around, you spent most days rubbing the sore spot in your back and hobbling around the manor. Most of the time the men kept to themselves and allowed you freedom to roam around the place. 
There was something about the manor you quite enjoyed, even if the men barely got along they still cared deeply for you. You had the pleasure of being called more beautiful than any treasure. But it was Buggy who told you that and then he promptly passed out from too much liquor. So the compliment only went so far. 
It was a home, even with three fearsome men, you still were happy. You thought of it as a way to keep the men in check. You were like the glue that held them together or prevented them from killing one another. It wasn't easy work but it was your work. 
-
You rubbed your achy lower back and huffed, ”You better come out easy, or we're going to have a problem.“ You then poked your swollen middle. Your current wardrobe was clothing that belonged to the men. You hadn't had much time to find cuter clothes so you often were dressed like a mob boss or a gothic swordsman or a fucking clown. But none of them men minded, to be fair they'd preferred if you were naked. You however refused to give them the satisfaction.
You weren't a toy to be ogled at, and if any of them treated you like an object they'd be out on the yard before they could finish their sentence. You refused to raise a child to believe that a woman would be under a man. Even if their father was a warlord you'd teach them compassion and kindness in an unforgiving world. 
It was the least you could do. So even with the aches and pains you were happy to carry such a precious gift. You gave your belly and soft pat, ”I'm not mad at you“ You said, ”I just want everything to go smoothly, I'm excited to meet you. And the boys will love you too. They might be a bit much but you'll always have a home.“ 
  ”Talking to the baby again, I see.“ You heard.
  ”Crocodile.“ You responded as you looked up from your swollen middle. Hand on your lower back once more, ”I thought you were busy, Mihawk told me that.“  
You'd say out of the three of them, Crocodile was the most ”attentive“, there was a charm to him that you couldn't deny. You understood why he was able to charm his way through Alabasta. But anything you needed he got for you without question. He often enjoyed your pregnant state, the idea that he bred you so well left him excited. Such a good girl carrying his spawn, and if it happened that the baby belonged to the swordsman or the clown, he'd make sure that next time he finished the job. 
  ”I'm never too busy for you. Where are you going anyway?“ He asked,“If you need something, I will get it fo you.” He approached you and leaned down to caress your bump, “You will need for nothing. You should be resting.“
  ”I have to move sometimes, Crocodile. Even with the pains in my lower back.“ You huffed as you rubbed the sore spot, ”Can't be bed bound forever.“ 
He chuckled and kissed the top of your head, ”If you wanted a back rub you should've come to my office. Mihawk is too rough with you and the clown is an idiot. So why don't we get what you need and head to the bedroom.“ He leaned further down and kissed you on the lips.
You cupped his face and looked at him, ”If you can get me the ice pop from the freezer in the kitchen I'll happily accept your offer.“ And gave him the biggest puppy dog eyes you could muster. 
He chuckled, ”You always know how to get your way.“ Then took you by the hand, ”Why don't get go before the clown takes all of them.“ Then he started to slowly walk to the kitchen on the lower level.
The warlord had a soft spot for you, he was enamoured by you. You were so small compared to him yet you held your own. The kind of woman who would bear his young. 
Soon you were seated at the massive dinner table happily enjoying the blue ice pop that was in the freezer with your back turned to Crocodile. His hand was on your back slowly massaging the aches and pains on your lower back. You could tell he was getting aroused by the closeness to you. You smiled to yourself as he rubbed at your back. 
  ”How's the child doing?” He asked as the hooked hand reached around you and carefully rubbed your bump, “Is he behaving?”
You chuckled, “We don't know the gender of the baby.” And took another bite of the cold treat, “You better not be disappointed if they're a girl."
He chuckled and pressed at a sore spot on your back, ”I could never, not with you.“ Then pulled away, "You're still a marvellous sight, even this far in. You're a beauty to behold, little one.“ Then leaned in to get a good feeling on the tenseness of your lower back, ”You're a good girl, right?“
You turned your head to look at him, ”You're not just being nice for sex are you?“ You reached over and stroked his face, ”Right?“
He moved back a little, “No, of course, I'd only have sex with you, with you permission.” He swallowed. Only the warlord would get nervous around you.
You chuckled and patted him on the cheek, “Why don't you finish this up for me.” You placed the ice pop in his mouth and moved off the chair. You hiked up the shirt that looked like a dress as you hoisted yourself onto the lavish dining table with a huff. It's hard to be sexy when you're so pregnant. 
  “Oh?” He said, “And here I thought you wanted a massage. But if there's something you desire, I'm happy to provide.” He smirked at you as he got up from the other chair.  He stood in front of you and admired you, such a beautiful woman in his eyes. 
Crocodile was such a fearsome man but here he was in front of you, with a glint in his eye as he watched you unbutton the shirt you wore and soon revealed your almost naked form. He had noticed that your breasts had gotten a bit bigger during the time you were pregnant so far, and that only made the man smirk. 
  “Let's get you out of those." He remarked as he helped you out of your underwear, you held onto his broad shoulders as he slipped them off of you. He placed your bum back down on the table and carefully spread your legs. His hook grazed at the soft flesh of your inner thigh and he carefully licked his hip lip.
  ”Don't stare at me like I'm meat, Crocodile.“ You remarked as you held onto the front of his shirt, all three of the men admired you but you had to warn them sometimes not to view you like a slab of meat for sale. They were yours as much as you were theirs, there would be a level of respect you demanded. 
You didn't think it was too much to ask considering you were carrying one of their children, you weren't a broodmare goddamnit! 
He reached over and patted you on the head, his face got closer to yours as he smiled at you, ”Don't you worry, baby. I would never. You're less like meat and more like the finest gold in all of the blue.“ His broad hand reached to your cheek and rubbed it, ”The others should be lucky I even let you in the same room as them.“ Then kissed you on the forehead. He carefully held your legs open for him, he exhaled deeply as he admired your sweet sex, ”Now let's get the show on the road before the others find us.“ Then with a little help from you, he slid his cock into you. 
Taking him was like a punch in the gut sometimes, even when he was being slow. He was just so BIG. It was hard to take him all at once. But he took his time, he didn't want to leave you too sore. His hand was on your waist as he started to thrust into you. The hook on his other hand held onto the side of the table for support. He leaned down and kissed at your neck, ”That's it.“ He said almost breathless against your neck, ”There we go. Such a good girl.“ 
The table made small noises as it was pushed ever so slightly across the carpeted floor. But you didn't pay much mind to it, you were too concerned with the feeling of euphoria that came over you. It was a great feeling, even with the minor stretch you were in good hands with the warlord. 
  ”Crocodile.“ You said softly, ”Fuck.“ 
He chuckled, his warm skin was pressed up against you, ”I know, you like when we have sex. I wouldn't have it with anyone else, those other idiots should be lucky that they get to have a taste of you.“ His voice was low, there was a possessive edge to it that sent a shiver up your spine. While the agreement worked you knew that Crocodile would rather have you all to yourself.
The sex was quiet and secretive. Hot breathing and soft moans filled the air of the lavish dining room. Crocodile's larger body stayed around you as he thrusted up into you. But even the warlord couldn't keep his composure for long.
  ”I want you to finish at the same time as me, baby.“ He said hotly into your ear, ”I want to feel you get very tight around me when you finish. Can you do that for me?“ His breathing was rapid and his shirt was sticking to his muscular back as he thrusted up into you. 
You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment as you felt the wave of pleasure over your body, ”I can do that.“ You panted. Your body jolted with the thrusts, your pregnant belly and heavy breasts moved with each thrust of his hips. 
He pulled you into a deep kiss, he even explored your mouth with his tongue while the intense feeling of climax took hold. It wasn't long before you were clinging onto him for dear life, you belly pressed against him. Then with one last thrust of his cock, you moaned into his mouth and climaxed at the same time as him. You let out a sharp squeak before a primal groan as you felt the wash of pleasure through your system. It made you go lightheaded. 
Soon Crocodile pulled away and patted you on the cheek. He looked over at the half melted popsicle beside you. Between his breaths he said, “Let me get you another one.” then leaned in for one last kiss. The thrill of pleasure still coursed through his body. He cleared his throat and asked, “Blue, right?”
You giggled, your head still a haze and replied, “Or we could go again?” And spread your legs a little further. And what kind of husband would Crocodile be if he didn't give in to his wife's request?
-
It had been about a week since your encounter with Crocodile. And while you were achy for days later, it wouldn't be the last time you'd have sex. Mihawk had just come back from a trip abroad and while he brought nothing for the other men, he was more than happy to show you what he got you. 
You were now almost seven months and the baby in you was feeling a lot more active, which made you out of breath a lot of the time. But you were determined to see what the swordsman got you. One of the gifts was a lovely dress made for someone as far along as you and while it was a little tight around the belly, you were happy Mihawk even thought of you. 
But there was still more he wanted to show you. The other men were out of the manor, so you went looking for Mihawk. You were occupied all morning with prepping for dinner, between the three warlords not a single one of them knew how to properly cook. They were as clueless in the kitchen as they were competent in combat. So it was just easier for you to cook, there was less of a chance that a fire would break out. 
 “Mihawk!” You called out as you climbed the long staircase upstairs. You peeked into the rooms until you found the man in his study. You let yourself in.
  “You know you can't just- oh, I didn't hear you, my love.” He got up from his chair at the desk, “You shouldn't be putting so much strain on yourself. Come.” He guided you to the old style leather couch at the other end of the room, “You should be resting.” 
  “Well I heard that someone bought me presents while away, and I want my presents.” You smiled at him as you tried to get comfortable on the chair, “Can you blame me?”
 “I'm sorry, I should've found you sooner.” he replied, “Let me get them for you.“ He quickly left the room only to swiftly return with delicately wrapped gifts in hand. He put them on the table in front of you then sat beside you. He watched you with careful eyes as you grabbed the first one. His lips were close to your ear as he said, “Open it.”
It was a floral patterned wrapping paper and underneath was a black box with a white ribbon tied around it, there was a note attached to it that read, ”Forever yours, Mihawk.“ You turned to look at him and he softly kissed you. You then went back to opening the box. It wasn't long until you discovered the contents of the gift. Inside in a bed of tissue paper was burgundy lingerie. 
You turned to look at Mihawk who had his eyes on you. You said to him, ”You shouldn't have.“
He tilted his head to the side, ”What I paid for is nothing compared to how much you're worth. It should fit you.“ His hand played with your hair gently, ”Will you try it on for me?“ And smiled when you slowly stood up, he even carefully supported you while you moved. 
You responded, “Of course.”  With gentle hands you pulled the bra and matching panties out. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw how little fabric there was. You guessed he was right, it would fit if there was nothing to put on. You felt his eyes on you as he got up and started to undress you.
His hands found your swollen middle and he sighed contently, “You've been taking care of him while I've been gone. Good girl.” 
You turned around to him and started to take the dress off, “You men are so possessive. I'm your wife, not a broodmare.” You reminded him.
He leaned in for a kiss and before he did it, he replied, “Of course, I could never remember you as anything but my wife. I am just glad that the others weren't too rough with you. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you.” 
  “Nothing will ever happen to me, I have the best protection on the planet.” You said as you stepped out of your dress. Soon your undergarments came off and he slowly put the pieces on you. 
You noticed right away that in the crotch area, there was an opening. You looked at him with a bit and shock and he got even closer to you. His bare chest was pushed against you and his hand dipped down between your legs. 
  “It's your gift. But under my conditions.” He remarked before he pushed two fingers inside of you. His skillful digits massaged the inside of your pussy and felt just right that you went on your tippy toes and clutched onto him. 
Your nipples grew hard from the sensation and them being practically exposed. Your cheeks grew warm and he went in for another kiss. You held onto him tightly as the pleasure raced through you. This felt amazing. 
Mihawk's favourite position was when he had you so close to his bigger form and fingered you. He prioritised your pleasure first, he wanted to see every expression you made when he pleasured you. He wanted to see and hear how good it was for you. And he was one to never disappoint. Those sharp gold eyes trained on you as he brought you into his lap with your legs open and facing the door. He kissed your neck while you panted and moaned. 
His other hand wandered your bump, “I want it to be mine, I want you to bear me a child who'll truly be the greatest. I have high hopes that it'll be mine.” Then left a deep bruise on your neck.
Your moans often got stuck in your throat from the immense pleasure that Mihawk was giving you. You hooked your hands under your knees to give him a better angle, with your back pressed against his chest.
The thrusts of his fingers were powerful and left your head spinning. This was euphoric. Soon his hand was on your breast and he skilfully fondled it as he continued to finger you at a punishing pace.
Your moans rung clear in the office while he pleasures you on the couch. At least your wetness can easily be cleaned off the leather. Your eyes rolled back as you gripped your thighs in a heightened pleasure.
  “So good for me.” He praised, “A beautiful woman I am able to give pleasure to, it's an honour.” He knew your heart was racing, he could probably feel it. He continued to kiss at your neck as his pace quickened even more. 
Your toes curled in the intense feeling and you moaned loudly as you rolled your hips in time with his movement which caused your breasts and belly to bounce. The knowledge of that made Mihawk's cock twitch in his pants. You really were a remarkable woman. 
He pinched at your nipple and your moans got louder. You pussy clenched around his fingers and he groaned into your flushed skin, ”So perfect.“ he thumb gazed at your clit and you practically jumped but you didn't get too far. He pulled you back in and you got louder as he pleasured you further.
You felt a grip around you as hot pleasure raced through your body. Your core felt on fire from the sensation. And Mihawk thought it was divine.  You looked angelic, especially when he hit just the right spot and you climaxed. 
He groaned into your skin as you tightened around his fingers. You tensed for a moment before you relaxed against him and tried to catch your breath. Yor head was spinning but you felt safe in Mihawk's arms. 
  ”How was that?“ He asked, ”You looked divine when I was pleasuring you. Do you want more?“
You exhaled deeply and slowly got up. You stood in front of him, ”Well.“ You said, ”Let's see how resilient this lace is?“ Then slowly he brought you back to the couch with the full intention of seeing what 'damage' he could do before the other men came home. 
-
Buggy was home the most, while the other two had matters to attend to off the island, Buggy was well Buggy. He was a fearsome clown but you spent the most time with him. You enjoyed his company, even when it was something as simple as watching over you while you gardened. 
It was the middle of summer and everyone was in their own little corner of the house. You were out in the garden behind the manor waddling around with a watering can in hand. You were tending to the roses portion of the garden before you moved on to the strawberries nearby. 
You didn't mind the alone time, it gave you time to think. You tried not to get too anxious about how your life is going to change once the baby is born. It felt so far away yet so close. Before the first autumn leaves you were going to be a mother! And at times it left you rather anxious. 
You shook off the thoughts while you poured the water over the roses. You heard the back door open and close. You turned to look over and saw Buggy. And when your eyes met, he broke out into a grin. 
  ”Well there you are, my peanut!“ Then made strides to get closer to you. You quickly noticed in his hand was your large sun hat. He approached and placed it on your head, ”I don't think now is the best time to get a sunburn. You know Crocodile will kill you.“ Then leaned in for a kiss. 
While the other two were mysterious, Buggy seemed normal in comparison. Well, for a clown pirate anyway. He had a very sweet spot for you and while you hadn't seen much of his feared nature, you enjoyed your time with him. He was an open book to you.
  ”You know one of us can do that, like you don't have to keep coming out here. Especially alone, what if you slip on some mud or like... A bird drops a rock on your head!" 
You laughed, ”Buggy, I think I have bigger things to worry about than a bird."
He shrugged before he took the watering can from you, “I'd hate to see anything happen to ya, so let's go. It's time for  a break!” Then placed it down before he guided you away from the garden and towards the shade under the largest tree on the property. 
He helped you down onto the grass and he went in for another kiss. He moaned against your lips as gloved hands cupped your face. It was almost romantic if not for the heat between your kisses. Your heart jumped.
  “You shouldn't be out here all alone, angel. What if someone hurt you? What if someone took you from me?“ He stared down at you.
You smiled back at him and reached out for him. You placed a hand on his cheek and assured him, ”No one would ever dare.“ Then went in for another kiss.You felt excitement race though you as he laid down in the grass with you on top of him. 
  ”Good, because you're mine, peanut. Just like that kid in your belly.“ He grinned at you and nodded. Soon with the help of his powers one of his hands reached down, detached from his body and lifted up your dress. He slipped his hand under and found the less than stylish maternity underwear you wore. 
  ”What do you think you're doing, clown?“ You asked, as you held his face, ”Did you come to check on me so you could fuck me?“ 
He laughed, ”Of course not, having sex with you is just a bonus!“ Then with another hand, pull down the underwear to the middle of your thigh, ”C'mon, then afterwards I'll even help ya water the garden. Seeing you all domestic has really turned me on.” Then he grabbed your ass. 
You moaned and he pulled you in for a searing kiss. He continued to gab at your ass as the kiss deepened. He pulled you dress up further to expose your bare ass to the afternoon air. 
  “You drive me crazy.“ He remarked before he created a bit of room between you two to get his cock out of his pants, ”So why don't you be a good girl and get me off.“ He beamed at you. 
You squeezed his nose between your thumb and pointer finger, ”And what do we say with that, Buggy?“
He frowned suddenly, ”Please. Please angel, sugar, honey, peanut, please, please!“ His cock was out of his pants and pressed into your swollen middle, ”I'd love to see that belly bounce while ya ride me.“  Then he attached both hands to his wrists and held onto your waist. ”I want you.“
You chuckled and held onto the bottom of your dress so a bit of your belly was exposed as you eated yourself onto him. You held his hand for support as you slowly seated yourself onto him. You exhaled deeply, “Yeah.“
  ”Doing alright there, peanut?“ He asked as he rubbed your hip with his free hand, ”That's it, good girl.“
You moaned as you started to roll your hips.  You held onto his hand and the bottom of your dress while you rolled your hips. You felt his cock nudge against the most sensitive spots. For a clown he was a good fuck.
Your eyes closed and your mouth slightly opened as you moved faster.  Buggy groaned and soon both hands were on your hips as he tried to meet your pace. “Shit.” You moaned as you felt pleasure spread through your body like warm butter on hot toast. Your cheeks were flushed as you continued to move your body. 
The two of you went at it, you kept the pace steady. It was getting quicker but the depths that he pushed against made you see stars behind your eyelids. Your heart raced as you moved against him. The feeling of overwhelming moments. Sex with Buggy left you breathless as it did with the other men. You were glad that your pussy could take a beating. The thought made you smirk for a second before you felt his thumb rub up against your clit. 
You jolted up but he used his other hand to keep you back down on his cock. He chuckled, “You're not getting away that easily, angel. I know I make you feel good, that's why the brat in ya is mine. His hand moved to your belly to feel around it while he played with your clit.
You felt moans bubble up in your throat as you rode him. You picked up the pace as the swirl of pleasure moved in the pit of your stomach. Your breathing was rapid as your belly moved with your movements. A sight the clown would never get out of his mind. His girl pregnant with his brat riding him on a sunny afternoon, he couldn't luck out more than this!
Soon the pleasure became an overwhelming feeling for both of you. He handed onto your belly with both hands as he pushed up deeper into you. Your coe felt soaked from the stimulation of his cock as you thrust your hips. Soon your hands were over his on your bump as you moved as fast as your pregnant body would allow.
Buggy's eyes rolled back as he gripped onto your belly, your dress fell back down over the bump as you two met each other's pace. Pleasure coursed through you and you tilted your head back in an attempt to catch your breath as you moved. 
You felt your dress cling to your sweaty back as the two of you made love under the sun. The feeling was euphoric. You reached down and grabbed him by the font of his shirt as you felt on the very tip of orgasm.
The moa got caught in your throat as you climaxed. You tightened around him and he soo finished off too inside of you. He painted your inside white as he let out a loud groan and went limp on the ground. 
You slid off of him, cum stained your inner thigh. You wiped the sweat from your forehead and said, ”C'mon now, Buggy. You have to help me water strawberries.“ But his hands, that were detached from his wrists, pulled your dress up once more.
Soon he was on top of you, squishing your belly as he said between ragged breaths, ”Not until I make you scream, peanut.“ With a wild grin on his face. 
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chaeyoei · 2 months
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Hihi,
I really adore your cat!Jing Yuan piece, so I was wondering if you could do another but this time, with the reader being the one who is turned into a lil kitty? If you want, of course :3c
Why not. This is fem reader x Jing Yuan
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"Why the worried face, Yanqing?" Jing Yuan asked, seeing the concern on his lieutenant's face.
"What if you drank that water, General?" The blonde child answered, shakiness visible in his voice.
The white haired man let out a small smile, patting Yanqing's head to soothe the child's fright. "You don't have to worry, I'll still survive. Your General won't be going down until a successor is selected." It was a vow in a casual tone.
Yanqing felt his fear melt away by the warm gesture. He offered a smile as the pair reached infront of the General's chamber. "Oh Lady Y/N-" The child saw the woman near Jing Yuan's table but paused, his eyes widening like saucers seeing the woman drink from the poisoned cup. "Lady Y/N!!"
Jing Yuan followed the lieutenant's voice. A smile gracing his lips as he saw his beloved which quickly evolved to fear. No, not his love. He's already lost most of it, He can't lose the one precious to him, it's the only thing stopping him from hitting rock bottom. Who will he go to when he wants to be vulnerable and let it out? Who will he share his burden to? His only fear was losing you. His heart was racing uncontrollably.
The train of thoughts broke as his body went on autopilot. The pair rushed forth but halted as bright light engulfed the room. This couldn't be the effects of a poison.
When the light cleared, all left behind was a cat. Jing Yuan's widened eyes confronted into confusion, same with Yanqing. "Y/N?"
"Meow" The feline tilted it's head, jumping onto the General. Rubbing it's head against the man's chest almost comforting him. This was you, only you could tell if he was distressed almost immediately.
————
After confronting the assassin and checking the remants of the drink. Somehow the fool had mixed a transforming potion instead of poison.
Cat Y/N. Oh boy.
He can't say he wasn't reliefed knowing that it wasn't poison. He doesn't want to fathom a life without you. You're his pillar, if you fall, so will he.
————
Affection
Jing Yuan would run his fingers through your fur and just bury his face into it. It was so comforting to him. He had to admit, his lady was still beautiful even in a cat form.
If he could, he wouldve used it for a pillow, but he doesn't want his beloved to be crushed under the weight of his head.
You on the other hand, still showed affection like yourself. Whether it'd be an attempt at patting his head with your paws or rubbing your fur against him to show him comfort.
wife is wife
Now that you were a cat, he'd keep you with him in his office. He wanted company.
————
"Meow." That felt like a chiding meow from you. As you nudged him, putting your paw on the paperwork scattered in his desk, almost as if you're telling him to finish it.
"Love.." He gave a pleading look which was answered with a sharp meow.
You meowed countless times and he could somehow translate it. You were telling him to not procastinate accompanied by a threat which he was unable to decipher.
He sighed. His wife was still herself no matter the form. He was getting scolded by a cat.
Lingsha. Do I favor Chinese sparkle? No. I would've used Bailu if this was made a few months prior to her announcement.
"..." The Cauldron Master observed the feline figure. "Lady Y/N will turn back in 3 days. It's nothing to worry about." The Alchemy commision's head reassured the General.
Annoyances.
None. He can never find you annoying.
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This was short. And other requests are coming soon.
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Text
remus x shy!reader (part 4)
author: sj
warnings: fluff; angst for remus lol; reader is in hufflepuff; uses she/her pronouns; not edited
done with finals!! now battling the want to only read fics and not write, let me know if you want a confession from rem!!
masterlist
part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 5
---
it was the day of the date and remus had been up since 4 am. he couldn't stop thinking about your date. however bad he hoped it would go, he didn't want your first date experience to be horrible. he wanted you to be treated how you deserve and to have a lovely time while also never ever wanting to see the fool again. and that is why he had woken up at 4 in the morning and couldn't stop the fight in his mind.
it was 11:30am and he was laying on the couch in the common room, one foot on the ground tapping constantly. the boys had decided to stay in this morning because james was worried they'd run into you and that sirius would end up embarrassing you and ruin your date.
"moony, if you don't stop tapping your foot, i'm going to lose my mind." sirius grunted, head in his hands covering his ears from the tapping noise.
"she should be done with her date now, right? its been 2 hours. why isn't she back yet?" remus asked.
"relax you love sick dog. your precious wife will be returned soon." sirius replied dramatically, rolling his eyes at how abserd this whole situation was. "if you had only confessed your love for her when you had the chance, she wouldn't be snogging another fella while you fumed the whole time." he added. remus shot upright on the couch with a wide eyed expression and a look of dread covering his features.
"here she comes!" peter shouted, holding the marauder's map in his hands, walking into the common room where the other boys were. all of their heads turned towards the portrait hole where it swung open and you stepped through.
you were excited to tell the boys all about it, but you weren't quite expecting them to all be staring at you when you got back.
"well, hi." you said, cheeks flushing more than they already were, glancing towards the floor to not meet their eyes. you sat down on the couch next to remus like normal, not sensing the tension in his body, only feeling their eyes on you.
"WELL??? i need all the details. spill your guts flea!" sirius cried across from you.
"it was okay! it wasn't bad! but it also wasn't great. like it was pleasant but it wasn't anything to write home about. is that good? like are you supposed to know if you want to marry him already?" you rambled, entire face flushing and not meeting their eyes.
"aw, hoppers. i'm sorry it didn't go well." james consoled you.
"what do you mean?" you asked, confused why he sounded sad for you.
"well, it didn't sound like there was any chemistry, that's important if you're gonna date someone." james explained.
"flea, i know it's your first date ever, but even i thought you'd know that." sirius shrugged. at the mention of it being your first date, you tensed and shot a look a remus, hurt that he spilled a secret to the boys. remus met your gaze with a look of panic.
"that wasn't me! i swear it! i didn't tell them!" he yelled.
"oh he didn't tell us, but the way you were acting before was kind of obvious and the fact that remus would've known that you were dating someone before you were part of our group and you certainly haven't since we've been friends because of remus' behavior." sirius explained, you relaxed and reached to touch remus' leg.
"sorry for thinking that you told them when you didn't ." you apologized and remus nodded back.
"its fine bun, i'm not hurt." he said, covering your hand with his.
"so hoppers, did you snog him?" sirius asked crudely. your cheeks flushed bright red.
"that is none of your business sirius! and a lady never kisses and tells!" you exclaim, avoiding all their eyes. "i told him that it would be best if we were friends, and he agreed. i don't think dating is for me, i just got so anxious before! and the thought of having to go on another date, just makes me nauseous." you say, leaning onto remus' shoulder and resting your head.
"thats okay, bun. you don't have to date if you don't want to." remus patted your thigh, his heart soaring that he won't have to go through this again. he knew he'd have to tell you that he liked you soon, the thought of you with someone else almost killed him.
"thanks rem." you mumbled back, sinking deeper into his side.
sirius observes this going on, looking to james and mouthing, 'are they fucking idiots??'
james simply rolled his eyes in response.
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brokenmenswhore · 2 months
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betrothals & brothels | aegon, aemond, & jace
part 3
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pairings: aegon targaryen x stark fem!reader, aemond targaryen x stark fem!reader, jacaerys velaryon x stark fem!reader
series summary: aemond targaryen tells the realm that you, the lady of house stark, are to wed him and secure a partnership in the north. in protest, you agree to marry jacaerys velaryon, affirming the north’s allegiance to rhaenyra. when the news hits king’s landing, aegon decides it’s better to have you under his watchful eye until the political partnership is solidified, but doesn’t realize you have a life away from your duty as a stark
chapter warnings: angst (a lil from everyone)
a/n: are you guys dying for the smut are you just dying for it i promise we’re almost there
series masterlist
────── ☾ ──────
“This is your fault!” Aegon screamed, bursting into the small council room, doors swinging shut as he slammed a thin piece of paper down on the table in front of Aemond.
Aemond remained level-headed, eye traveling down to the paper in front of him as he began to read.
“You,” Aegon stomped forward, an accusatory finger pointed at his brother, “you granted her access to a raven. She must have asked him to come. This is on you.”
“Speak plainly, Aegon,” Alicent snapped, elbows resting on the table as she wiped her fingers across her eyes in frustration, “we do not understand your hysterics.”
“The precious prince allowed his newly betrothed to send a letter to Dragonstone,” Aegon spat, “without clearing its contents.”
“I do not understand,” Alicent spoke.
“Our beloved nephew has requested to visit,” Aemond spoke, completely unphased by the rage exhibited by his brother, “he is aware the Stark girl is here.”
“Jacaerys requested an audience with you?” Alicent clarified, bewildered at the boldness of the young prince.
“He must only be so bold by request. She must have requested he ask such a thing. He would not do it on his own. I dare say his cock is not big enough.”
“Aegon!” his mother scolded, taking a deep breath, “I assume we are all in agreement that this is not permissible?”
Lord Wylde, Master of Laws, raised a hand, “if I may, Your Grace, denying this request may only worsen things.”
“How?” Aegon asked.
“If the boy does not intend to commit an infraction against the crown, denying him travel may seem like an act of fear. The false queen may believe you see her as a threat that cannot breach the castle walls, for if she does, she will take the throne.”
“And you think her capable of doing such things should she be in my presence, Lord Wylde?” Aegon said, standing at the head of the table, palms flat against the wood.
“Your Grace, I mean no offense-“
“We are talking about Jacaerys, not the false queen, Lord Wylde,” Aemond interrupted, “and he would not dare try anything rash. He knows he would not survive a battle against my sword.”
Aegon raised a hand and gestured toward his brother. “Are you saying you think the crown should allow this visitation?”
“I do not see why not.”
“Are you simply trying to absolve yourself of guilt, brother?” Aegon’s tone began to calm down, “for you are the one to blame here.”
“Why don’t I simply ask the girl if she requested his presence?” Aemond suggested, sighing through the words in annoyance at his brother’s temperament.
“She would not tell you,” Aegon replied.
“I believe she would. She is many things, but she has not yet proven herself to be dishonest.”
“If she is so trustworthy, why did she insist on sending a letter without clearance in the first place? What do you possibly think her writings contained? A declaration of her love for you?”
Aemond slammed a hand on the desk and stood up abruptly, his chair sliding back on the stone floor behind him. Aegon was taunting him now.
“If you think yourself incapable of holding ground against our nephew, then by all means, brother, deny his request. I, however, know that no destruction could come from the hands of Jacaerys. I believe him too weak. Do you not?”
Aegon sighed in frustration, trying to remain discreet with his eyes as he glanced to the members of the council, all staring at him in wait.
“Mother?” he spoke, head turned toward Alicent, awaiting her input.
“It is rather dangerous,” she began, her mild slightly changed, “but I believe it may be taken as a sign of good faith. We simply must be diligent in our protective measures upon his arrival.”
Aegon dropped his head. He did not want Jacaerys to come to King’s Landing- he hated his young nephew. Jacaerys was Rhaenyra’s heir, making him a direct threat to Aegon’s crown, and Jacaerys was the reason everything with you had become so difficult. Aemond was not a great help, but if Jacaerys had not proposed a betrothal upon hearing Aemond’s announcement of his intentions to wed you, Aegon would not be in this predicament.
Denying this request was an assurance of Aegon’s safety against the Blacks, but could also be taken as a gesture of war, a true strife between a broken family. Accepting this request put Aegon’s livelihood in danger, but he did not want to appear weak enough as to think Jacaerys could be a legitimate threat to him or his power.
“Does no one think the boy may have ulterior motive?” spoke Ser Tyland Lannister, Master of Coin, “we are discussing inviting the enemy into our walls. There should be no question about what decision is best. He should not come.”
“What do you believe he is capable of, Ser Tyland?” Aemond asked, almost mocking.
“For one, how are we to ensure only he will arrive? Granting him access to our city may spark a chain reaction. Other Blacks may think it okay to come here. Rhaenyra herself, for one.”
The small council remained quiet, debating upon Tyland’s words. Many of them had not considered the possibility of Rhaenyra taking the opportunity to come, likely on dragonback.
“We should be worried about Rhaenyra always, not just if her son were to come,” Ser Criston Cole chimed in, “if she intended on bringing herself and Syrax here, she would have done so. She does not need a formal invitation. I believe her capable of doing as she pleases, when she pleases. The threat of her arrival is always imminent, I do not believe it more prominent should we allow your nephew to come, Your Grace.”
“Ser Cole is right,” Aemond agreed, “the same applies for our young nephew. If he wanted to, he could simply arrive of his own volition. He, instead, had the courtesy to request an audience with us, lest he decide to take it by force instead. We should take this request as a gesture of good will.”
“Does no one understand how detrimental this would be?” Aegon said, clearly becoming frustrated with the council he was receiving, “we are at war. There is a tremendous deal of pressing matters to attend to and we are here, discussing if it is wise to allow the enemy into our home.”
“None of us believe this war could have been avoided,” Alicent’s tone was calm, pulling Aegon out of his head, “but I believe there are those of us that wish it different. He is still your family, and he truly may just want to see the Stark girl. Maybe this will render our situation capable of change.”
Aegon took his mother’s words to heart. He was perhaps the only one who truly wanted a war, he was angry, and he wanted to spill blood, but he trusted his mother. Catastrophes may have been avoided if there was still a sense of family amongst the Targaryens.
“Tell him to come,” Aegon said, “but only come alone.”
Aegon had considered storming into your chambers, voice raised and demanding to know the contents of your letter to Jacaerys, but he had not seen or spoken to you since his moment of vulnerability. He did not know what to say or how to act in your presence, and he thought it better to avoid placing himself in any circumstance that would require him to think of it.
Instead, he found himself beside Aemond, watching from atop the Red Keep as Vermax’s wings came into focus, a hint of green visible in the distant sky when the sun hit at just the right angle.
When Aegon felt comfortable that it was only Jacaerys who was approaching, he retreated to the throne room, Aemond maintaining his position to assist in security measures should the King’s Guard need him.
Jacaerys landed Vermax directly in front of the Keep doors, the wind from the dragon’s wings nearly knocking over guards and smallfolk alike.
The moment Vermax calmed, Jacaerys left his mount, feet not on the ground for a moment before the King’s Guard rushed him and began to pat him down. His hand remained tightly secured to the hilt of his sword, at is always had, as the men stepped away, gesturing him forward. Jacaerys nodded, entering the keep and directing himself toward the throne room. He expected nothing less of his uncle, knowing his desire to appear powerful would manipulate his choice of placement.
He marched forward, the guards desperately attempting to keep up with his footing, as he swung the doors to the throne room open, finding Aegon sat upon the mess of swords, expecting his entrance.
Jacaerys did not bow, the only reason he stopped at the steps of the throne being a gesture of good faith, an assurance he did not intend to charge his uncle, sword in hand.
“It has been quite a while, uncle,” Jacaerys spoke, matter-of-factly.
It bothered Aegon to no end that he did not speak first. “As it has.”
Jacaerys and Aegon exchanged a glance for a brief few moments, neither sure of how to initiate a conversation.
Jacaerys took a deep breath, fighting with every cell of his being to remain calm. “You know why I am here, uncle. Where is she?”
Aegon smiled, his posture resting in a casual position on the throne. “You already know her whereabouts. Is that not why you’ve come?”
“Let me see her.”
“No.”
“Let me. See her,” Jacaerys repeated, a pause between the words.
“Or what?”
Jacaerys cocked his head to the side, trying to control his breathing. He refused to be the reason any hostility was initiated.
“Do you think I’ve traveled all this way for a bickering match?”
Despite Jace’s better judgement, he could not mask his bitter tone.
“You asked to come. I do not remember ever promising you an audience with the Stark.”
“Her brother misses her dearly.”
“I am sure he does.”
“As do I.”
Aegon did not expect anything remotely close to a genuine confession from Jacaerys. He searched Jacaerys’s eyes for any hint of regret, but to no avail. Jacaerys had meant to toy with Aegon’s heart; there was hope that if Aegon could view him as human, as family once again, he would he more lenient with granting requests. He knew Aegon had a somewhat tender heart underneath his cold exterior.
“She is not a piece of property, Aegon, tell me where you are keeping her.”
“Soon she will be wed to Aemond, in which case, she will be more my family than yours. She is not property, sure. She is Aemond’s.”
“We do not hold family hostage.”
“How is your mother? Hm?” Aegon started, beginning to play with the fabric on the hilt if his dagger as he shifted the subject, “still crying over a lost throne?”
Jacaerys’ nostrils flared in annoyance, the muscles on his neck flexing as Aegon laughed, happy to have garnered a reaction from his nephew. He loved to tease Jace, annoy him, get him all worked up, and force him into a rage. Jacaerys knew this, and fought against it as hard as he could.
“Be nice, brother, Jacaerys is family after all,” Aemond interrupted, a confident walk taking him across the room until he was standing but a few feet away from Jacaerys. “Besides, who wouldn’t want to see the girl? She is all too pleasurable to look at.”
“Mind your tongue, uncle,” Jacaerys snapped back.
“You are rather possessive of my betrothed,” Aemond teased.
Jacaerys took a deep breath, bowing his head briefly to reset his temperament. “Where is she, Aemond?”
“In her room, where else?”
“It is not her room if it is not her home.”
“Aemond will be her home soon,” Aegon chimed in, “and I’ve already told you you may not see her. She is not permitted to leave her chambers.”
Jacaerys’s brow furrowed in slight confusion as he looked back and forth between his two uncles. “First you kidnap her, and now you do not even grant her the courtesy of leaving a singular room?”
“Though I will say, Aemond seems to have no issue letting her out at will,” Aegon spoke, resentment evident in his voice.
“Meaning what?” Jacaerys asked for clarification.
“Meaning nothing,” Aemond said, rushing to get the words in before Aegon could elaborate.
The three Targaryens exchanged glances, unsure how to continue. The conversation was going nowhere, and Jacaerys was concerned about Aegon’s previous comment. What was Aemond doing to you?
“I did not come all this way for nothing,” Jacaerys stated, “let me see her.”
“What do we get in return for granting you an audience?” Aemond bartered.
“The gift of keeping your life.”
Aemond snickered. “You could not beat me if you tried.”
“I do not wish to. I, however, will do whatever it takes.”
“You would dare draw your sword at us just to speak with your Northern whore?” Aegon threw your scandalous reputation at Jacaerys, hoping it would strike a chord and cause him to act irrationally.
“I would,” Jacaerys focused on Aegon, “and if she is truly a whore, you should exhibit no true possessiveness toward her.”
Aegon stood, ready to combat his nephew’s words, potentially with his dagger.
“Under supervision, of course,” Aemond spoke, cutting off Aegon’s thoughts and actions, “I’m sure such a thing can be arranged.”
“I do not answer to you,” Jacaerys spat.
“Then why did you ask permission to come here?”
“I will not be responsible for worsening a war.”
Aemond gave Jacaerys a slight nod. Aemond’s greatest gift was his inability to be manipulated. Each and every decision he made was cold and calculated, never faltering on his own personal plans.
“I’m sure you expect conditions.”
“I do not need a handmaiden present to speak to my future wife.”
“You will not have a handmaiden present,” Aemond sighed, “but I require to be present for anyone who expects an audience with my betrothed.”
Aegon sighed and threw his hands up. Aemond had a habit of negotiating, despite never seeking Aegon’s authority to do so.
Jacaerys remembered your letter. It is imperative that he believe me good on my word. He was angry, and unafraid to contest your betrothal to Aemond, believing you to still be betrothed to him. He would call you his betrothed to the ends of the earth, but he was cautious to not mentioned your promise to him in your letter.
“Fine.”
If it meant he could see you, he would bear more time spent with his uncle.
Aemond showed Jacaerys to your quarters, silence befalling them both. They had much to say to one another, but neither of them wanted to fight. Aemond just wanted Jacaerys to leave, and Jacaerys just wanted to see you.
Aemond gave a small knock to your apartment door, something he never did.
The unfamiliar sound caught you off guard. “Come in,” you called toward the door, expecting to see an inexperienced handmaiden enter.
When Aemond appeared, you stood up abruptly, nervous as to why he was here in the middle of the day. Was he revoking your access to the streets? Had Aegon discovered your secret? Was he aware of your business in the streets? Were you being further punished for existing?
Every worry, every thought, every nervous feeling swiftly left your body as Jacaerys walked through the door, stopping short the moment he saw you. Your breathing caught in your throat, a sharp gasp lost before it could be completed.
Jacaerys’s features softened the instant he saw you. He nearly forgot how beautiful you were. The crown had only given you lavish green dresses, forcing you to look as one of them. Despite Jacaerys’s internal recoil at the sight, you wore the color well, and he knew it was not your choice. He believed that you would look beautiful in any color, even that of the enemy.
“Jacaerys,” you spoke, so softly he wouldn’t have heard it if he wasn’t giving you his complete attention.
“Hi,” he spoke, both of you completely frozen in place.
Aemond noticed the way you looked at his nephew. Your eyes was softer than they were when they were focused on him, your gaze usually cold and callous, unable to show any vulnerability in front of him. When you looked at Jacaerys, your features relaxed so much, you nearly cried. It bothered Aemond. He did not realize how much you truly resented him until he saw how you gazed upon someone you did not resent.
“W-“ you choked. You were nearly crying from overwhelming disbelief, and a lack of trust at the situation, “what are you doing here?”
“I had to see you,” Jacaerys said, moving his feet toward you in desperation to touch you, “I had to know you were alright.”
Jacaerys took your hands in his own. His voice dropped, low and soft enough to signify his words were only meant for your ears, not Aemond’s, “and I missed you.”
A few tears fell from your eyes as you disconnecting your hands, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled him close. Jace’s hands wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly as he pulled you as close to him as he could. Your bodies melted together, the comfort of one another consuming you until your eyes blinked open and you saw Aemond, the sudden reminder that you were not alone, and you were not as safe as you felt in Jacaerys’s arms.
You pulled away from the hug, turning away from Jacaerys and taking a seat in front of the fireplace. Despite the early hour, the fire was lit, the dancing of the flames the only entertainment and stimulation for you during your days.
Jacaerys followed you, kneeling down on the floor in front of you. “Are you okay?” he counciled.
You discreetly gestured toward the door, reminding him that Aemond was present, and therefore you had to act differently than you would if you were alone.
“He insisted on supervision,” Jacaerys explained, disappointment in his voice.
“Nothing more pressing to attend to?” you called toward the door, turning slightly so Aemond knew the question was meant for him.
“You know I like to keep an eye on you,” Aemond responded, referencing him escorting you at night, hoping the mystery of his words would bother Jacaerys.
Jacaerys took a sharp breath. “I want you to come back with me.”
Your eyes widened. “I do not wish to remain here, Jace, but Vhagar is capable of melting much more snow.”
You could both hear Aemond snicker behind you, but neither acknowledged it.
“If you stay here, I fear they can force your hand,” Jacaerys pleaded.
“They have already forced my hand,” your voice broke, fighting any sadness or tears in your confession.
“You have promised yourself to me,” Jacaerys whispered, hoping Aemond was not intent on listening, whispering almost inaudibly “or did you not mean your written words? I will not allow them to force you to abandon me.”
There was no volume low enough to avoid Aemond’s impeccable hearing, especially when he was determined to hear every word his nephew spoke. Aemond stomped over in a rage.
“You what?” Aemond snarled, eye focused on you.
“What?” you responded, playing dumb with a confidence that had him almost believing you.
“I trusted you,” Aemond was furious, “I trusted you to do the right thing, and instead you sent a raven saying you intend to honor your betrothal to him? Did we not have an understanding?”
Despite his anger, Aemond mostly felt betrayed. He thought there was an unspoken understanding of trust between you two, and he was jealous of your affections toward Jacaerys.
“Have I given you any reason to relinquish your trust in me?” you combatted.
“Do you think me a fool?” Aemond spat, “I heard your little catch-up.”
You stood, Jacaerys following suit and standing guard next to you as you began to raise your voice at Aemond. “What did you expect of me? You hold me captive, begin to burn my house, force my hand in marriage, confine me each and every day, and only let me free to pursue your own exploits. Did you think me growing affectionate toward you for simply unlocking a door that I do not deserve to have locked? You and your brother have been nothing but cruel. The only kind thing you’ve done for me in my time here is allow me to see Jacaerys, and I am sure you have your own reasons for such things. You should not dare take issue with me, Aemond.”
“Our agreement, lest you forget, included you renouncing him and acknowledging your betrothal to me. You did not follow through, and therefore there is no understanding between us anymore. I’m sure you will find the dungeons quite comfortable.”
“Try as you will, you are simply mad that she cannot be controlled,” Jacaerys defended you. He knew you didn’t need it, but he would try regardless.
“Mind your tongue.”
Jacaerys unsheathed his sword, pointing the tip at Aemond. The room stilled for a moment.
Aemond made a swift move to mimic Jacaerys’s actions, the two men armed, your body the only thing between them.
You desperately wished you had some sort of weaponry as defense. You always wanted to learn the skills of the sword, but the men of the Watch never let you participate, only allowing you to spectate.
“Do it,” Aemond taunted.
“You do not have the authority to banish someone to the dungeons, for you are not the King,” Jacaerys matched his tone.
“Strike me, nephew. If you truly dare.”
“Would you both please sheath your weapons? Aemond, I am nothing more than your prisoner. The dungeons cannot hold my temper the very same way this room cannot.”
“Then you shall not mind the change of scenery.”
“You underestimate me,” you threatened.
“You underestimate us both,” Jacaerys huffed in anger.
“Well well well, I see this is going well,” Aegon smiled, strutting into the room, “I expected nothing less.”
“She must be taken to the dungeons, brother,” Aemond informed.
“I told you as such upon my arrival,” you reminded them.
Aegon approached you. “Shall we?”
“I would hope you know me better than to simply go at will.”
Aegon called the King’s Guard stationed by his side at all times to enter the room, four different men swarming you and holding your arms behind your back. Jacaerys dropped his sword down, looking for any entrance to help you, but found none. You jumped and kicked and clawed, adamant on not going down without a fight. You elbowed one of the men straight in his nose, blood rushing down his mouth and chin as he stumbled backward at the sudden pain. You took the opportunity to twist the arm he was holding back in front of you, punching the man directly in front of you. As your fist approached his face, Aemond caught your wrist, gripping tightly as he shoved the arm behind your back again, his other hand occupied with the sword that was now at your throat.
You remained cautiously still, but refused to show any sense of fear.
“Do it,” you spat, “it would be a great relief from spending the rest of my days with the likes of you.”
The blade pressed harder into your neck. Jacaerys stopped closer to you, but Aemond shot him a look. Jacaerys raised his sword again, the tip facing Aemond again. “Drop it.”
“Make me,” Aemond replied.
Aemond shoved his body into your side, nearly making you fall as you stumbled closer to the door, the men of the Guard seizing the opportunity to walk you out of the room and toward the dungeons, Aemond keeping his hand around your wrist.
Jacaerys and Aegon were left alone in your (now previous) chambers, the sun beginning to fade from the windows.
“You may take your leave now,” Aegon said.
“You do not expect me to just leave when you’ve impriso-“
“Take your leave.”
Jacaerys sighed. He needed more strength, more dragonfire, more support. He knew his talents, but he knew himself not capable of defeating both of his uncles on his own. He hated Aemond, but he would be a fool to not admit Aemond’s capabilities when wielding a blade.
Jacaerys stomped out of the room, ignoring anyone in his path as he marched back to Vermax.
When you were placed in your cell, the men immediately locked the door and left, leaving you trapped with Aemond peeking into your cell as if you were a caged animal.
“Feel safer, do you?” you taunted, “is a woman truly so much of a threat to the one-eyed prince?”
“You are here by your own volition,” Aemond told you, “it did not have to come to this.”
“I could have spoken those words to you the moment you commanded Vhagar upon my home.”
Aegon dropped his head. “What will it take for you to not be so combative?”
“I will never stop being combative, especially so long as you treat me like this.”
“I would not have to treat you like this if you stopped acting like this.”
You began to raise your voice. There was no point in holding back now. “This started when you decided to announce a betrothal to the realm that I did not consent to! I had no reason to ever know you until your idiot brother saw no other way to secure an alliance in the North but to strip me of my right to choose a proper husband! I never wanted any part of your war, Aemond, and now you are punishing me for it.”
Aemond slammed his hands against the cell door, the metal violently banging and clashing. “I have never, in all my years-“
“That’s enough,” Aegon interrupted, “leave us, will you brother?”
Aemond desperately needed to calm down, his breathing erratic, his cheeks red. “I was in the middle of-“
“Leave us.”
Aegon was serious now, glaring at his brother until he was out of sight.
“You stupid fucking whore,” he spat at you, “it was my brother’s own fault for trusting you.”
“You’re the one who allowed Jacaerys to come here, are you not? I had no part in such.”
“Did you not request his presence? In your special little letter to your prince?”
You gave him a confused look. “You believe I told him to ask for such things?”
“I would not trust if you denied it, so do not even bother,” Aegon sighed, taking a seat on a guard stool a few feet away, resting his elbows on his knees as he clasped his hands together.
“So what is your plan? To keep me captive forever? To only let me out on my wedding night and force me to carry your brother’s seed? To hope that I die in child birth and allow your men to find my newborn crying on this floor?”
“What do you expect me to do with you? I need your house on my side.”
“I’d rather you have asked nicely, to speak plainly.”
“And you would have bent the knee if I had?” Aegon questioned.
“Absolutely not.”
“So you see why I must resort to force.”
“Did you ever question whether or not you are deserving of my House’s allegiance? Do you truly think yourself worthy of any noble house’s support? You resort to pain and force and threats, but never bargain with any Lord or Lady for how their allegiance to you may benefit them. You are not fit to be a king.”
“I am!” Aegon yelled, shooting upward and approaching your cell door, “I am fit to rule, and I am ruling! You shall wish your brother bends the knee to me. You will be terrible collateral damage should he not.”
“You have imprisoned me in your dungeon, Aegon, is that not damage enough for you?”
“Winterfell has not yet raised my banner.”
“Winterfell will never raise your banner,” you stated.
“We shall see.”
“You will not see,” you fought back, “my brother is much too smart to bend the knee to you. He knows me capable of caring for myself, even with your constant bitching and bombardment.”
Aegon sighed. He put his face as close to you as the bars would allow him. “I have never loathed another as much as I loathe you.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
Aegon stomped away up the stairs and out of your sight, leaving you abandoned in your prison cell. You began to scan the room, looking for any way to escape. No windows, makes sense. Solitary, no one else around, not that they could be much help. The lock can be picked, but there’s nothing here I can use to unlock it. They would not be so stupid as to leave something that I could use to-
As the thought crossed your head, your hands clasped your stomach, and you felt the multitude of adornments on your gown. The King and his brother had made one grave mistake: they locked you up in one of the finest gowns you had ever worn, which included a Targaryen house symbol pin sewn into the center of the navel area fabric.
A pin.
────── ☾ ──────
tags: @torchbearerkyle @dracaryxzs @hangmanscoming @callsignwidow @velvetcrowbarcherry @kravitzwhore @darlingisntit @not-neverland06 @albionfay @cluz1babe @flusteredmoonn @sab-falco
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The White Rose of Jerusalem ~ King Baldwin IV x Reader
Summary: As a young girl, Y/N had the honour of marrying the King of Jerusalem, just before the healers found out of his fatal diagnosis. Though she had the choice of backing down from a fruitless marriage, she remained faithful to the young boy-King who captured her heart.
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Note: I know the chance of people knowing this movie are very slim, but I was long fascinated by King Baldwin IV and re-watching this movie for the N-th time only reinforced that notion; And I’m too hyperfixated to study for exams, so I gotta do this.
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Note 2: I have two endings in mind, one with a happy ending, which will be the default one, and another, with an angsty, sad one, which I will be writing under a line and a warning. :) Hope you’ll like it!
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Note 3: The lyrics from the Angsty Ending come from the song ‘Luthien’s Lament’ by Eurielle, with some words alternated, to fit the story. Hope you like it, and that you will be compelled to check out her fantastic work! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4F3X5CrPn8I
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She was just a little girl, not even a decade old, when she was chosen as the most fitting candidate at being the future wife of young lord Baldwin IV, the future King of Jerusalem. A beautiful lad with long locks of gold like a field of wheat shining in the summer sun, and eyes as blue as the celestial azure sky, fair skin, flawless and angelic like that of the most beloved seraphim, and a voice so soft and tender that would put anyone to ease.
Princess Y/N was so nervous - How could she possibly compare to... How could she possibly become good enough to stay around the future King of Jerusalem? Her worries were plaguing her mind so much, that she simply stared at him, with the eyes of a scared fawn, completely forgetting that she was supposed to do a pretty courtesy and speak.
But the boy could see your pretty face as pink as a lovely flower in bloom, from something as silly as nervousness around him; He chivalrously offered his hand for her to take, and he guided her away from the wave of adults they were surrounded by, and outside, to the lush gardens of Jerusalem where there was nobody to bother them. He hummed idly and scanned the place, before abruptly stopping in from of a bush, and cut a single white rose, which he de-thorned and put in her hair. “There, a beautiful flower, for a beautiful lady.” she couldn’t help but cast her eyes down, unable to meet his. “You see, out of all the flowers in the world, I think a white rose fits you best.” he smiled down at her. “Do you know their meaning, My Lady?” Y/N began biting on her bottom lip, whilst her fingers were anxiously fidgeting and picking at one another. “Forgive me for my rudeness, Your Majesty. I did not mean to disrespect you with my silence and awful behaviour.” The young lad tilted his head to the side in confusion, before reaching out to her hands, holding them dearly. “You have not offended me, My Lady. Still, I would like to request you not to harm such beautiful hands. I have never felt anything as delicate as them, not even flower petals.” her timidness was adorable, he noted. “You need naught feel uncomfortable around me, nor abide to such formalities. I would like for you to speak freely - You are soon to be my lovely wife, and I wish for you to become my confidante.” Baldwin could feel her hands tightening their grip slightly on his own. “I am asking again, whether or not you know the symbolism of white roses -- May I call you by your name? I wish for you to do the same in return.” “Y-Yes, of course, Your Majesty, you may call me as you wish.” the boy’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Baldwin. My name is Baldwin. Do call me that.” the alarmed look in those gorgeous eyes of hers, that resembled the most precious gems, only made him realise the overly strict upbringing that she had, so afraid to step the wrong way, or do any kind of misdeed, in fear of being punished, or quite possibly, bringing about Armageddon. “I-I could never show such disrespect to the future King of Jerusalem!” the boy let out an amused exhale, before gently raising her chin up to have her look at him. “Y/N. We are going to be married. For you, I will not be the King. I will be your Husband. If the two of us do not trust each other whole-heartedly, then who else can we trust?” Baldwin finally felt a little satisfaction once she finally dared meet his sight, only for her to bow to him deeply, which once again, confused him. “I wish I will one day end up being a person that you can rely on... Baldwin.” the childish smile of glee that the boy held made her heart leap. “I do not know much, but I wish to learn everything. I was limited in everything I was taught, in detriment of becoming the perfect wife and mother, fit for the King of Jerusalem, so much so that I forgot that I am allowed to live for myself.” “Then I will teach you how to live.”
Though she continued to be as shy as ever, barely capable of speaking up, especially to adults, Baldwin was graced with the most dazzling smiles from the young beauty, whom he’d teasingly call ‘My Wife’ with every chance he got. They were so adorable together, and so very in love with each other, that his elder sister, Sibylla, although jealous of their happiness, would often declare them as ultimate soulmates. They were glued to each other.
It was Baldwin who encouraged her to approach the horses and tend for them, and it was his instructors who taught her how to ride, so that they could ride together whenever they wanted to have some fun, by themselves; The young Price could see the remarkable bond she had made with all of the horses she took care of - Only the most gentle person could create such a connection with a sensitive animal like that.
They would write and recite love poems for each other, though the boy was much bolder than her, and would have to read her love confessions himself. In spite of that, she was content with singing for him, which would, in turn, urge him to ask her for a dance, outside, in the gentle moonlight.
Though he wasn’t one for painting, he loved all of the flowers that Y/N would paint for him - She only ever liked drawing flowers of all kinds, and pretty landscapes; And he would hang around all of her most precious masterpieces in his own bedroom.
They were doing everything together, to the point that Sibylla felt a little lonely, but Baldwin became even more enamoured with Y/N during one evening, when he was pondering over a chess puzzle made by one of his instructors; And there she came in, like Virgin Mary herself, brightening up his dimly lit room. She towered for a few seconds over the chess board, and moved a single piece before flicking over the enemy King piece. Baldwin looked up at her, then back at the board, and up again in complete disbelief - Such an easy solution, yet he kept overcomplicating a thousand useless and difficult ideas, only to end up with no outcome except for his own ultimate failure.
The boy shot up to his feet and engulfed his lady in his arms with so much love, kissing both of her cheeks. “You are a fantastic strategist, my rose! You are going to be my most treasured advisor!” “Oh, I could never - I just moved a piece, nothing that great!” but the boy shook his head vigorously.  “Nonsense! I’ve been losing nights over this, and I couldn’t figure it out! If it weren’t for your insight, I would have continued to agonise over it.” he explained tenderly. “Even the wisest of kings need new opinions and views.” “Then, I hope I will continue inspiring you in the future also, and that you will see me as worthy of staying by your side.” the boy could see small tears gleaming in her eyes, though she held the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen. “I wish for nothing more than to see you succeed and be known in history as the best King that Jerusalem ever had.” with a burst of boldness, she embraced her fiance tightly, nuzzling her face in the crook of his neck. “I love you.” “Generations forward will be hearing of the wisest and most supportive Queen of Jerusalem, the one who equally reigned alongside her King; the one so kind and caring that all our people will look up to her.” he smiled tenderly, his hand caressing her soft locks. “Just like the purest white rose, so innocent and beautiful, wise, enlightening, intelligent, inspiring of hope, compassion, peace, humility, understanding, tranquility.” cupping her face, he tilted her head so that he could touch his forehead to her own. “And representing of an eternal love, genuine and unbreakable.” his voice was so soft, so loving. “I love you.”
But this love was soon going to be put to test on one day, when the young prince was outside, playing around with other noble boys, while Y/N was making flower crowns and embroidering with the girls. The boys would pinch each other, and rough each other up, scratch and slap their arms; They made so much noise, crying out, whining, whimpering and yelling from paint, but it was Baldwin alone who uttered no sound, and remained as quiet as the lake.
“My love, you are bleeding!” Y/N rushed to his side, stopping his friends from continuing to play around.  “Oh, is that so? I have not noticed.” he looked down at his arm, examining all the marks left on his skin, and although they looked painful, he could barely feel anything more than a simple pressure. He could barely even feel her touch. “Have not noticed?! Your whole arm is in awful shape!” the girl shook her head in worry before turning around to look for any of his mentors. “Lord Godfrey! Lord Godfrey, please do come over!” once the man stepped in front of them, Y/N explained what happened - From the concerned look that the adult tried to conceal from them, the girl realised he suspected something with a grim epilogue.
The young prince was treated by the royal physicians the whole day, while Y/N remained alone in his room, pacing around aimlessly and agonising over the truth being concealed from her, yet after many hours, when the Moon took over the skies, and the stars were twinkling the brightest, Baldwin was returned to his bedroom. As Y/N tried to run over and engulf him in her arms, she was stopped by Lord Godfrey. “Princess, I know that you cherish the Prince dearly, but I bare terrible news. His Majesty is being suspected of a disease called leprosy. It would be unwise for you to keep in direct close contact, as you would be at high risk of also getting this curse.” Y/N looked up at the adult with tears rapidly streaming down her face. “It’s alright, my dear rose. I value your health and life above all else. If being apart will ensure your safety, then I am content.” “Don’t you dare say such blasphemy!” it was the first time Y/N ever raised her voice above that sweet, comforting mutter of hers. “Am I not your wife? Your soulmate? Your confidante?” she asked in disbelief. “I have promised I will be staying by your side, until the end of times - The amount of years matters little - But there is no life worth living if you are not in it. I would much rather live a short life, and be able to support you for as long as God may keep you on this Earth, than live a long life, cursed with not being able to see you again.” Even a hardened Lord like Godfrey could feel his heart trembling with emotion at the loving confession from the young lady, who fell to the ground and hugged the boy’s legs. “Please, my love, do not drive me away from you, unless you grow to hate me, and should I ever be so awful that I may make you despise me so, then may God strike me down where I stand, for I could not bare to be torn apart from you.” “Y/N, my love, please, never kneel before me. Out of all the people that I may be reigning over, you alone, shall never kneel.” Baldwin had to gulp down his emotions, though he felt light-headed from such a bold and heart-wrenching confession, and he helped her get up. “I do not want to give you this wretched curse, but I would be a liar if I were to say I were not selfish, for I want to hold you in my arms forever, just as before.”
The realisation that half of his right arm and the hand were completely numb completely shattered his father’s heart, and he had the best physicians, maesters, priests and what not to treat him with oils, ointments, poultices and even charms, yet nothing worked. Though Baldwin had quickly gotten used to the idea, Y/N continued being in denial, and took over most of the physicians’ work, entirely, from then on. She was his wife, and she wanted to take care of him for as long as they had together; She simply loved him so much, and this disease was killing her, more than it did him. Such an intimate thing, touching his skin, cleaning it with herbs and oils every morning, lunch and night before sleep, and she would wash his feet and hands, just like Jesus did to all of his apostles in the Bible. Baldwin felt himself wanting to cry - The love of his life shouldn’t feel compelled to take care of him like that; That’s what servants and healers were for; Yet all the same, he felt so grateful for having someone who loves him so much...
But with so much love, comes the uncertainty of the future, and when he stops being the beautiful Prince that he is now, and becomes blind, disfigured, and loses feeling in all his limbs, will she remain by his side? His heart will never stop loving her, and although the selfless part of him hopes that she would run away and find someone better, some handsome knight or lord to take care of her, someone healthy and with many decades ahead of him... He was still human, and he was selfish. He wanted those few years he has ahead of him to have her by his side, until he does not open his eyes to see the daylight again.
Years passed and tragedy struck Baldwin and Sibylla, once their father died and the young boy of thirteen had to be crowned. A mere boy of thirteen, forced to become the ultimate leader of God’s Kingdom of Heaven, with Raymond, count of Tripoli’s help through his regency, and the unshakable support of his wife.
Baldwin and Y/N stood straight and tall, with the grace and elegance befitting the King and Queen of Jerusalem, though the pressure was weighting heavy on their shoulders, and the lives of so many people, and their Holy Land, were in their hands. The archbishop stepped behind Baldwin and did a cross-motion over his forehead and said a prayer, before putting the crown over his head. “Behold, your rightful King and heir to the throne of the Kingdom of Jerusalem. Long live the King, in prosperity!” people chanted ‘Long live the King!’, though it felt more like mocking, given his condition - Granted, the people were unaware of his leprosy, save for the physicians and the closer advisors - They had to be kept in the dark, at least until his coronation... What will happen further, was a mystery. The crowned Baldwin took the other crown from the pillow and stepped next to his beautiful wife, dressed so formally, with such grace and etherealness, that she looked akin to an angel. “I, Baldwin IV, by the grace of the Holy Spirit, choose Y/N L/N, the woman to be my wife, and with the help of God, she will rule her people with the same love and kindness as always, and continue supporting me wisely. Long live the Queen, in prosperity!” as the King placed the crown over her head, the people chanted ‘Long live the Queen!’ again and again, awaiting for their King to sit on the throne and be given the scepter and  globus cruciger, whilst the Queen was standing up next to him.
That evening, Baldwin and Y/N were finally allowed to formally spend the night in the same room, without earning scrutiny from the religious people around, who were bound to gossip senselessly. Wearing their sleeping clothes, the King was laying on his side on the bed, watching his Queen embroider a handkerchief, with his name written with golden thread. “Are you happy, Y/N?” the boy asked, suddenly. “I am happy that you have not forced me to abandon you. But I am not happy, knowing that your disease is disallowing you to live a normal life.” she answered with such ease, that it sent a shiver down his spine. “You are supposed to answer personally, not with tying your answer to someone else.” Y/N shifted her gaze upwards, a cheeky side-smile gracing her beautiful features. “And what if my happiness is tied to this certain ‘someone else’, as you like to call yourself?” she challenged him playfully. “Then, I would call you a fool in love.” he chuckled, smiling fondly at the girl. “And I would be guilty of the same charade.” “There is no room for guilt in love, my darling. Though duty is the death of love, I am allowed to make my own choices - This liberty, it was you who had given it to me, and for that, I will be eternally grateful.” she explained, placing the handkerchief on the table, before stepping by the bed and kneeling, leaning on the edge, their faces so close to one another. “You could have gone home with your parents, yet you chose to disobey them, and remained the wife of a leper, willingly. That was a silly choice. I am going to make you the youngest widow in history.” he spoke bitterly, and though his hand reached out to cradle her cheek, it ultimately fell down on the sheets, afraid to directly touch her skin, in fear of passing the illness. “And I will regret only not having met you sooner, and the cruelty of God, for taking his most beloved human so soon into his Eden.” Y/N took his hand and kissed his fingers, before placing his palm on her cheek. “But loving you, is something that I would do over and over again, if given the chance.” “I do not deserve you, my sweet rose.” he felt himself breathless, every time he heard her speak such tender words addressed to him. “Remember what you told me, so many years ago, to encourage me to live for myself?” he only wished he could feel her soft touch playing with his fingers so dearly. “Howsoever you are played, or by whom, your soul is in your keeping alone.” she cited him so perfectly, word by word, that is genuinely surprised him, after over 5 years, that she remembered his advice. “Even though those who presume to play you be Kings or men of power, when you stand before God, you cannot say - But I was told by others to do thus - Or that virtue - Was not convenient at the time -. This will not suffice.” “To think that so many years would come to pass, and you still continue to surprise me.” though he wanted to chuckle, this body froze entirely once Y/N climbed in bed next to him. “Y/N -- If you contract this curse because of me, I would never forgive myself.” “The Saracens say this disease is God’s vengeance against the vanity of our Kingdom. As wretched as lepers are, the Arabs believe that the chastisement that awaits you all is going to be far more severe and lasting, once you are thrown in hell. If that is true, I call it unfair, and that God is nothing but a farce, and life, a cruel joke.” she snorted unceremoniously, before laying down and cradling his body flush against her own, his head resting comfortably on her chest, and she was soothingly playing with his hair, lulling him to sleep. “To hell with anyone who can consider you anything less than an angel, for you are the kindest man I have ever met, and Jerusalem is lucky to be under your rule. The way I see it, God must have thought you so worthy of joining the highest angelic ranks, that he was unaware of a faster way of taking you to his side. It is, after all, the prettiest of flowers that we are quick to pick first and show-off to others, before they wilt in our hands, and we throw them away.” “I am truly honoured to have someone like you hold such sincere feelings for me, and speak only superlative words regarding me. I feel better, knowing that you do not think me lesser, or unworthy, in spite of this misfortune.” though his limbs were gradually getting numb, he could feel ever part of her body touching his own. “Y/N.” he called out her name, cuddling into her, like a cute kitten seeking comfort and warmth. “I am happy.” he was deathly afraid that he could somehow transfer the disease to her, but in that second, his senses were drowning in her love. “You make me happy.”
But the boy at three and ten winters, barely crowned and orphaned, had not expected to grow into the respectable young King that he became by the time he reached sixteen years of age, though by now, the entirety of Jerusalem was calling him the Leper King - They found out the inevitable truth of his condition, and despite the wretched ostracizing that all of those commonfolk cursed with this skin disease, he was able to show that a noble, wise, kind and strategic King and deserved all the respect of the world.
The young King had all of his advisors around him, telling him of all the risks, the cons and pros of going to war against the powerful leader Salah al-Din; They were greatly outnumbered, but if they weren’t going to war, the odd were high that Jerusalem would fall to the Muslims. Sitting on the throne, Baldwin felt himself unconsciously raising his hand to his forehead, feeling a migraine creeping, from the overwhelming amount of shouting and unnecessary bickering and arguing between each notable knight, commander and representative of each army under the command of the King of Jerusalem. He wasn’t one to raise his voice, nor did he bother - At the end of the day, men were going to continue being men, and they will continue trying to dominate and overpower each other.  At some point during that abysmal meeting, he noticed the frown on his Queen’s face, clearly irritated that the adults were creating more problems than offering good advice for him, and she could barely keep herself under control not to jolt up to her feet at yell at them to stop behaving like petulant children. Alas, neither of their Royal Majesties were known to raise their voice or even get angry at their subjects; After all, it would be beneath them to stoop so low, when virtue was everything they were supposed to embody.
By the time they returned to their shared chamber, Y/N sighed dramatically, complaining about the unbecomingness of those nasty advisors, whilst Baldwin couldn’t help but chuckle at her reaction. His sweet rose truly was adorable in everything she did. Instead of laying on the bed, the young lad sat in front of his chess board and stared intently at the pieces laid in wait to begin a game. Suddenly, a brilliant idea knocked him into a new sense of giddiness. “My sweetling, would you be willing to brighten my day by engaging in a game of chess with me? I cannot think of anything better that could relax me after such unnecessary stress.” His wife smiled at him with that loving tenderness, as she sat opposite of him and urged him to begin the game by moving his piece first. Baldwin carefully moved each of his pieces so that he would create the ultimate strategy, not only for his own side, but manipulate the girl’s pieces into well thought-out spots. In the end, it was Y/N who won the game, but it was him who started cheerfully laughing in triumph. “Never once have I seen a man so happy to lose a game.” Y/N smiled lightly. “What have you concocted, you little weasel?” “The game we just played, my love, contained my strategy for the upcoming war with Salah al-Din, with my side being the Muslims, and yours, Jerusalem.” he exclaimed with glee, getting up from the table. “Jerusalem will prevail once again!” “How cunning of you! Never once during this game have I thought you would be manipulating me into playing my pieces the way you wanted me to. You are wise and intelligent beyond your years, my love.” she praised him, stepping in front of him, and gently placing her hands over his face. She could see the way his disease was rapidly and heavily affecting him, and that once angelic face of his was now scarred and ulcerated beyond anything that the physicians resoluted or predicted. He had to learn how to guide his horse with his knees, instead of the tugging of the reins, as he lost feeling in his right arm completely, and the disease was quickly afflicting the skin of his other limbs also. “And neither will the Muslims, my sweet rose. They will be unable to retaliate, and will have to retreat back to Cairo.” despite all of the scars, and the way his golden hair was beginning to fall out and lessen, that adorable, boyish smile of his remained as charming as ever, and his crystal eyes were just as bewitching. “Will you please allow me to follow you in this crusade?” Baldwin was tempted, as her enchanting fawn eyes were his biggest weakness; His ration and wish to protect her was above even that, however. “I dearly wish to never be apart from you, but my love, you are the Queen of Jerusalem, and with me gone, there will be no one that I trust to rule the Kingdom. I need you here to rule over our people and keep them safe.” Y/N simply sighed and rested her head on his chest, her arms gently around his body. “As always, you are right, of course - If only that you weren’t! How many sleepless nights of worry will I endure, and nightmares shall plague me, until I receive good news from a dove, and am allowed to rejoice your victorious arrival?” the King chuckled softly, resting his chin on the top of her head, reciprocating her embrace. “How dramatic, yet poetic - I am honoured that you worry so much about me, but you needn’t, that is my oath to you. With your aid, my strategy will prevail, and with God’s providence, I have the courage to mount my horse and lead our people to victory.”
And true to his affirmation, the young King rode valiantly into battle, at Montgisard, and just as the strategy dictated, they gave the Muslims a run for their money, returning to Cairo very much defeated, and barely with a tenth of the initial army. Christianity had prevailed once again, and God had not turned his back on them yet.
“You should have seen me, my love, with the Holy Cross shining brightly with the light of Heaven, leading our army to victory! It was such a fantastic win, that I felt powerful as never before! I felt truly blessed and empowered - Like I will be walking the sacred lands for a whole century, and fighting for our faith!” the young King was laying his head in her lap, as she played with his golden locks; Whenever hair would freely fall off in her grasp, she would quickly throw it away, so that her husband wouldn’t have to see the way his beauty was being forcefully taken away from him by the cruel claws of Death. “If all the most beloved Kings were to live for centuries, our world would be a better place. You, especially, deserve to live for many, many hundreds of years, a prodigy above all else, and loved like no other before you.” his grin couldn’t be wiped from that pretty face of his. “Ah, if only that were true, my darling!” he exclaimed. “Now, I only wish to settle my sister with a new husband, deserving of her. With the death of William de Montferrat, and the birth of my little nephew... Sibylla is all alone, and named the heir to the throne once I am no longer.” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I have to take her with me on public affairs, so that the people would get used to her being the next ruler - But she is so against everything I try to do for her.” “Sibylla is still young and very beautiful, my darling, there is no need to worry over her future husband. I know time might not be on our side, but it is on hers. She will be fine, I assure you.” she leaned down to place a small kiss on his forehead. “I only pray that you are right, my dear. I love my sister dearly, and I only wish her the best.”
That wish, however, was never going to become reality, as come 1180, an adventurer under the name of Guy de Lusignan found his way in the Holy Land, and seduced Sibylla into marrying him. Baldwin was angry as never before, and even threatened to hang him for daring to debauch the Princess of Jerusalem, yet the tears of his sister and mother were enough to break his resolve and agree to this marriage out of love. That was the first mistake he did, and one that could never be rectified. Guy was a man that earned the scrutiny of the whole realm faster than any man before, and became the most despised being in the country, by all, except for his wife.
By this time, the King was turning twenty years of age, yet he knew he wouldn’t reach to see his age change its prefix again. His condition had gotten so severe that he completely lost feeling in his limbs, and he wasn’t allowed to travel. Not only that, but the skin ulcerations were so drastic, and his face was so disfigured, that he had the blacksmith forge a silver mask for him to wear at all times, and his body was bandaged in its entirety, and robed in white, covering himself whole. It was only his wife, Queen Y/N, that was allowed to gaze upon him, as she continued the ritual of bathing his sores and treating them.
Every day of his life, King Baldwin was happy that he hadn’t given his most darling white rose this accursed disease; Likewise, every day of her life, Y/N continued to pray to God that he may spare her beloved husband and cure that curse that afflicted his body and health - He was a worthy King, and most capable; one the likes that Jerusalem had never witnessed before - Surely, he deserved a blessing!
God, however, did not discriminate when it came to life-taking and misfortune. Be it King or peasant, Lord or fisherman, all had the chance to get sick and die before their time, no matter their worth, faith or the amount of good deeds done whilst roaming the earth.
The stress and all the incompetent people that advised him were none the wiser, and they only dug him an early grave, with all their arguing. Not only that, but Sibylla continued to deny her brother’s wish of divorcing that good for nothing scoundrel - The whole Jerusalem was against him and his lack of sense - Were he to become King, he would destroy the Kingdom of Heaven in a day. She was a fool in a love, but not like himself and Y/N. The Queen was right - Duty is the death of love, but the reverse was also available. Were Sibylla a simple woman, a merchant, or simply a living being without any responsibilities on her shoulder, her devotion would have been most applaudable - But she was the heir to the throne, and she had duties to the realm, she couldn’t afford to be so foolish and cling onto a man that would lead not only to her destruction, but to the whole realm falling into ruin!
By the time King Baldwin turned a most exhausting age of merely three and twenty springs, he was beginning to turn blind, as his eyes were incapable of shutting, and his corneas were burning and stinging him so excruciatingly painful, yet there was nothing he could do in that regard. Despite barely being able to walk around anymore, he had to deal with the consequences of that single mistake of allowing Sibylla to marry that incompetent Guy, who not only broke the pact that Jerusalem had with the Muslim by attacking one of their caravan and killing all of the people there, but he also dared massacre Salah al-Din’s own sister. How can his sister not see that this man was only going to bring ruination to their home? How can she continue devoting her life and affections to such a monster of a man, good for nothing and hated by all, whose head is set only on carnage and bloodshed, under the pretext of spreading the Faith and Word of God over the heathens that tried to obliterate them and convert them?
Thus, King Baldwin stood slumped in his throne glued next to the Queen’s; She gently held his hand, their fingers intertwined; He loved the visual of their hands being so intimately together, before all to bare witness at their pure and sincere love that transcended even leprosy and scrutiny, yet at the same time, he hated how he could not feel her hand, and that his own was bandaged over like a mummy.
“Guy de Lusignan and Reynald de Chatillon, with the Templars, have attacked a Saracen caravan.” just as always, the crowd of knights began fighting each other like a bunch of babbling baboons, until some person of authority yelled at them to keep silent.  “It was no caravan. It was an army headed for Bethlehem to desecrate our Lord’s birthplace.” Guy justified his immoral actions under the guise of protecting the Faith. “Reynald, with the Templars, have broken the King’s pledge of peace. Salah al-Din will come into this kingdom -- “ the Count of Tripoli was promptly cut off by the daring fool. Oh, how Baldwin wanted to let go of his reign and live the remaining days of his life in peace, alone with his wife - Yet knowing the Kingdom would fall into this monster’s hands, he could not, in good faith, abandon his people, nor could he see his Holy Land destroyed before his very eyes. “Tiberias knows more than a Christian about Salah al-Din’s intentions.” Guy got up to his feet, walking to the count, towering over him in an attempt to intimidate the old and seasoned Lord. “That I would rather live with men, than kill them... Is certainly why you are alive.” the knight sneered discreetly at him. “That sort of Christianity has its uses, I suppose.” the King and Queen shared a look of annoyance. “We must NOT go to war with Salah al-Din!” Tiberias exclaimed. “We do NOT want it, and we may not win it.” he was the single voice of reason left in that sea of idiots who cried out ‘Blasphemy!’ like a flock of sheep.  “An army of Jesus Christ which bears his Holy Cross cannot be beaten!” some Templar spoke with unbacked confidence. “Does Tiberias suggest it could be?” the scarred man remained silent, looking with disgust at the rest of the knights. “There MUST be war! God wills it!” those idiots were using God’s name as a means to bloodshed. The Queen could stand this complete disarray no longer, and though she missed the moment a servant brought the King a message to read, she shot up to her feet, and shouted at them the people for the first time in her life - Great was everyone’s surprise, especially Baldwin’s, to bare witness of something different than her otherwise honeyed and soft voice that soothed one’s worries. “Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain, for the Lord will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain.” she recited a line from the Exodus 20:7. “Are you suggesting we are using the name of God with unclean intentions?” Guy looked up with defiance at the woman, whose elegant and royal aura turned cold and stern, like a strict ruler. “I am your Queen, and you will address me as such.” she harshly snapped at him. “You, who are worth less than a worm, and held in no one’s graces, dare create such disorder in the presence of the King of Jerusalem. The disrespect you have shown is punishable by death.” she stepped towards him, head held high, dignified. “To think that all of you will be listening to the poisoned tongue of this viper; That you would summon God’s name, to commit bloodshed - Have you forgotten the Ten Commandments? Thou shalt not kill, it was written on the stone tablet given to Moses - Yet all of you are thirsty for war - Not out of Faith, but out of boredom. You listen to this warmonger who knows naught of diplomacy, of tactics and strategy - Lest of all, of the good of the people of the Holy Lands.” the crowd of knights could feel their blood freezing in their veins from such a scolding. “All of this, in front of the King! Such rudeness should be the cause of you yelling out Blasphemy! Not evident caution and refusal to go to war against an army that is outnumbering our own greatly!” “You talk much, but say very little... My Queen.” Guy taunted the Queen with blatant disrespect. “What would a woman know of war, when all she knows is to was to sored feet of a man that may not seen the world outside of these Holy walls in so long? You call me lesser, yet when the King is no more, neither will your title remain. We are the same - Lucky to have been chosen, yet worthy all the same.” “How wrong you are - For at the end of the day, marriage or not, I will continue being a Princess, yet you will be nothing more than the fourth son, good for nothing, landless and with no title - And most of all, a sinner.” the Queen drew the sword from Tiberias’s scabbard, pointing it at Guy. “Kneel before your Queen.” his eyes widened in shock at such an order. “Are you going to ignore a direct order from your Queen?” Guy’s head snapped towards the King, who waved his hand at the man, as to follow the order. “The Queen’s command is absolute.” Baldwin nodded his head briefly at the buffoon who dared disrespect his wife, not only in front of him, but in front of the whole court. He was glad that someone was putting that idiot to respect, however, he hated that his wife had to step over her kindness and get angry, for his sake. Begrudgingly, Guy knelt down, though he glared at the Queen with those scorned, dark eyes. In a swift move, the woman swung the heavy sword with such ease, ready to behead the man - Only to stop, right as she touched his neck, careful not to injure him. Sibylla was quick to shout at her to have mercy and spare him - That she loves him, and what not. She was ignored. “Do not mistake my past kindness and mercy, for weakness. I may be benevolent, but I do not tolerate disrespect addressed to me, to God, and especially to the King.” she returned the sword to Tiberias, who nodded at her in acknowledgement and approval. “That your head is not rolling to the ground for children to play is my final act of mercy and acceptance towards you. You disrespect the King, your disrespect Jerusalem. Trust me when I say it, Guy - I always mean what I say.” she returned to her seat next to the King, who handed her the message to read. The look on her face said it all - She was both concerned and terrified, not for her life, but for his own. “Salah al-Din has crossed the Jordan with 200,000 men.” the King spoke out once ultimate silence reigned over them all. “He’ll make for Kerak and Reynald de Chatillon. My Lord...” TIberias was the first to speak, walking over to Baldwin in an attempt to help him stand up. The King gestured him to stop, and subtly shook his head, as a way to show he was still capable of at least getting up from the throne. “We must meet him before he reaches Kerak.” the King whispered in his advisor’s ear. “I will lead the army.” “My Lord... If you travel, you’ll die.” the Count of Tripoli voiced the Queen’s concerns. “Send word to Balian to protect the Queen and the villagers.” the King addressed the crowd then. “Assemble the army.” came his resolute order that earned a chant of happy cheers from the knights.
The King did not wait to consult with the Queen - Instead, he went into his room to rest, for on the morrow, he would be marching towards Kerak to create some kind of temporary peace treaty with the Muslim leader. Y/N shared a look with Tiberias. Fear was welling deep into her eyes - She was terrified. The nightmares that kept plaguing her every night were coming to fruition much faster than anticipated. Her husband was going to die. “Tiberias... I know you care for the King as much as I do. Though we both know his mind will not be swayed... Please, do try to keep him away from this journey.” her voice became a weakened whisper. “I cannot bare the thought of losing him so soon.”
Tiberias could feel his heart impaled, yet he was unable to utter a single word. He placed his hand on her shoulder, as if to show they share a similar kind of pain, and he hung his head. Y/N went to their shared room, and seeing her husband sitting on the chair, by the chess board, she fell to the ground, hugging his feet and placing her head on his lap as she wept. “Please change your mind, my love! Do not go to your death, not so soon! You are so young, still so strong -- I cannot... I cannot imagine living without you.” Baldwin sighed, his eyes stinging, yet feeling a little relief from the forming tears that were wetting his dry eyes, and his bandaged hand was placed numbly over her cascading hair, petting it. “Forgive me, my sweet rose.” he spoke with a shaky voice. “I did say I was going to turn you into the youngest widow, yet I did not imagine my condition would hinder me from even reaching thirty years of age.” even his body was softly trembling, in tune with her pitiful sobs. “Forgive me for breaking your loving heart. I was not the husband that you deserved. I was unable to bring you happiness, nor pleasure, nor was I capable of creating a family with you. God had forbidden me from even touching your body, in fear of transferring this curse upon you... He had denied me the feeling of your delicate skin, and a normal life span spent by your side.” “Do not say that!” she exclaimed, raising her head. “You have been more than I ever deserved. You have been more than I could ever dream of, even. I never desired for anything in life, except to see you alive, every time I woke up, and to feel you heart lul me to sleep, as you held me so dearly in your arms. For as long as I could hear your tender voice... Just knowing you were alive... It was all that I ever needed.” she reached her hands up to his face, taking off his mask and revealing the horrific, disfigured visage of the one seraphic boy. “If I could, I would trade all of my tomorrows, just to spend another night with you. I would trade all of my days, so that you could keep on living on, for as long as I would have. I would take the disease upon me, just to rid you of this curse. I would accept even being purged by the divine fires of retribution, if it gave you your health back.” her sight was blurred with the amount of tears hindering her and rivering down her face. “But to hell with God, and with the Faith, and with everything there is! Why must a good man endure misfortune after misfortune, and die young, whilst incompetent, evil bastards like Guy keep on living and thriving so frivolously?! I prayed day in and day out, and I have devoted all of my being to God, but instead of returning your health, he is taking you away from me even faster!” she wailed so pitifully, that Baldwin felt his entire being shattering before her anguish. “What kind of sin have I committed, that I cursed the love of my life as such a tender age, just a little after I have met him?” “You couldn’t possibly think to blame yourself for my disease.” he scolded her in complete disbelief. “Y/N, my love, never think that way.” he placed his hands on her elbows, urging her to raise, only to guide her to sit on his lap. Her slight panic was quickly shushed with a reassurance. “I am ill, not made of glass. If anything, this proximity could only serve to energize me.” Y/N gently held his hands and took off the bandages, revealing the severe ulcerations, the leathery skin and the open sores, red and painful, were it not for the numbness. She kissed his fingers lovingly, before placing his palms over her face. “Were I a mighty Phoenix, I would be able to heal all of your wounds, with the amount of tears I have shed. I would be able to fly into battle by your side and spit fire over our enemies, but also thrill a song of bravery and victory to embolden our army.” she took a ragged breath, stammering over her words. “But I am just a woman, powerless, and foolishly in love with one man, who is dying before her very eyes, and can do nothing but live in fear that he may take his last breath when she is not around him.” “You always did leave me speechless with your love confessions - And that is no easy feat, my sweet white rose. To say that I love you, is an overstatement... Yet God may strike me when I say... I do not love even He, the way that I love you. My only regret is that I was not able to even kiss you, when I was still young and handsome, fitting of a young King. I wish only to make you the happiest... If only life was not so cruel with us.” Y/N leaned down slowly, placing her lips over his own, completely uncaring of her malformed mouth, or the possibility of catching the disease herself. She wasn’t planning on living longer, if he wasn’t going to be alive and hold her hand any longer. “A silly woman, foolishly in love with a silly man, just as foolishly in love with her.” he muttered, gazing at how beautiful she was, even with eyes puffy and sparkling with tears, and skin twinkling wet. 
The King guided his Queen to the bed and cradled her into his arms to cry as much as hear dear heart needed, all whilst playing with her hair, as much as his useless fingers allowed him to, and whispered a string of endless sweet nothings, though he was aware, no word of love was going to sooth or mend her shattered heart, and the fact that his lack of days were the cause of it was a bittersweet knowledge.
On the morrow, the King nodded at Tiberias, placing his hand gently over his horse’s snout to urge it to kneel so that he could mount it and ride towards Kerak, where he would face Salah al-Din and propose a truce. The journey was long and arduous, lasting a whole week on horseback, yet he rose tirelessly, and slept like a baby in the tent, every night. There were no physicians by his side, nor his Queen, to wash and treat his skin damage - But it was fine, he wasn’t going to live long anyway, so it mattered little.
After seven long days, they reached Kerak, the stronghold of Reynald the Idiot, and with the King of Jerusalem in front and the shining-white Holy Cross that brightened up the battleground, the King, dressed the part, rode and faced the leader of the Muslims. 
The two king met, face to face, horse to horse - One, the Splendor of Christianity, dressed in full white, yet with a silver mask and the light-blue tabard of Jerusalem, and his horse was the same, white and pure, as was his virtue and soul. The other was dressed in black, and his horse was black also, to represent his own faith and leadership to his people, but also, his humbleness. The two stared each other in the eyes, siesing each other but, yet it was Salah al-Din who spoke first. “I pray you pull back your cavalry and leave this matter to me.” “I pray you retire unharmed to Damascus.” the King replied, his eyes seemingly unblinking behind his silver mask, adorned with crosses and swirls, to represent his Faith and Love of God. “Reynald de Chatillon will be punished. I swear it.” the man vowed, speaking in a soft, yet firm tone. “Withdraw, or we will all die here.” the two’s silence, as they stared each other up, was this time interrupted by the Christian King. “Do we have terms?” The Muslim leader only had one fear, and that was of the Leper King, who so easily bested him at merely 16 years of age, and heavily outnumbered; Now, older, yet with a frailer constitution, even the ghost of him could send a shiver down his spine; A rival worthy of his respect. “We have terms.” he nodded at him. “I will send you my physicians.” he humbly offered, wishing his rival to remain alive and healthy, for as long as he may. “As-salamu alaykum.” he King of Jerusalem tilted his head down and bowed his hand as a sign of respect, wishing him and his people peace. “Wa alaykumu s-salam.” Salah al-Din rose his hand and replied with the same respect, wishing him the same.
The two leaders of their faith turned their horses around, and Sibylla watched from the safe fortress, as her brother was victorious in avoiding an all-right war, and rode towards the stronghold of Reynald, who quickly ran, disheveled, to greet the King, who gracefully rode before him, and commanded his horse to kneel, so that he may dismount. Reynald offered a courtesy, as the King stumbled in front of him, whipping out a wand from his waist. “On your knees.” he ordered, with such disgust as no one has ever heard him before. Reynald did as instructed without hesitance. “Lower.” he had to be deeply punished for all of his thoughtless actions that served to ruin everything he worked so hard to build for his people. In an exhausted breath, yet still as kingly, he spoke “I am Jerusalem.” with another swift move, he took off the glove of his left arm, and the bandages, revealing a thoroughly maimed hand, along with a golden ring with a large ruby. “And you - Will give me the kiss of peace.” he extended his seeping, untreated, dirty hand towards Reynald, who started slobbering and kissing his fingers without hesitation.
From disgust and anger, the King used the scepter to strike his face - One, twice, and a few more times, until the idiot was on the ground, cradling his injured face.  Though the physical exhaustion took over His Highness, and as he turned around, he stumbled to the ground, and into the sand. It was Tiberias who rushed to support him to stand, along with two guards, that helped him lay on a comfortable couch, as the Count of Tripoli commanded the arrest of the idiot. With a nod at the man, the King was risen with the bed, and carried out, so that he may return to Jerusalem, with the much needed aid, before he may return by himself, on horseback.
Once returned, however, the guards that greeted them started yelling ‘Imposter!’ and claiming the King that led them to Kerak, the King that settled peace with Salah al-Din, their most feared enemy, the King that punished Reynald - He was an imposter, and the real King Baldwin IV was in his study;  The Imposter was quickly immobilised, struck down and roughly brought over before the real King, whilst the Imposter was thrown to the ground to kneel, despite Tiberias and the other knights’ protests and attempts to stop such blasphemy.
Before their eyes, however, the knights witnessed two Kings - One a little taller than the other, and dressed in his normal robes, sitting on the throne and reading; The other, on the ground, just smaller, and with the War outfit on. The King of Jerusalem rose on his feet, startled at the sudden disturbance, and the peculiar sight before his eyes; It would have been almost hilarious, were he not enraged at the guards having been so rough with the Imposter, when he did not ordered them so. “You may release that one.” though the guards looked in shock at the orders, they complied. “Of course, there is no one who knows me better, than yourself. I was foolish to believe you would just remain quiet, at home, where I asked you to be. You fool.” his scolding was light-hearted and tender. “Tiberias, tell me, how did the affairs go?” “Your Majesty... Ergh... Salah al-Din agreed to a truce, and Reynald de Chatillon was severely punished... By... You.” the Count of Tripoli found it difficult to voice out the ambiguous message. He was upset that he did not realise the truth sooner; He had let himself be tricked, and so well. “All of you - You may leave.” the King ordered with a dismissive yet respectful wave of his hand. “But -- My King -- The Imposter --” one of the knights stammered over his words. “There is no Imposter, but a loving Queen who was ready to accept anything may come, to save her husband from a life-ending journey.” the King stepped in front of the Imposter, and taking the silver mask off, revealed the beautiful face of the Queen; The revealed earned an ocean of protests and gasps - How was a woman capable of not only fooling everyone, but of mimicking the King so flawlessly. “Perhaps it is not that you know me best, but that you know me better than even I know myself. Truly, I am honoured, and my heart soothed with honeyed mead, to know that you have gone through such trials, for my sake. Foolish indeed, yet with such positive outcome that I am incapable of feeling anything but happiness.” with some difficulty, he knelt besides her, so that he may pick her hands and get her up. “As I told you so many times, my love, you do not bow to me, for it not I alone, but the both of us, that are Jerusalem.” “My sweet King, I bare good news, for once!” Y/N spoke for the first time since she’s arrived; Though her voice was weak from dehydration, not only was she happy that her quest was a success, and that her darling Baldwin was not upset with her tricking him, but she was also smiling so brightly, so much so that it surprised the young man, as he hasn’t seen her so genuinely blissful since they were children. “Salah al-Din sent over his physicians, and they offered a gift - It is called Chaulmoogra oil, and they said people in India and China use it to treat leprosy - The statistics show great improvement, unlike any other treatment before. That man truly respects and cherishes you as a rival, and a leader, my love.” Baldwin froze on the spot, seeing the woman reveal a rather large carafe that she kept hidden underneath the robes, hanging from the sash. Were it not too hasty to have hope again? A miracle treatment, so suddenly, for him? And even if he does get treated, his face will never recover, and he doubts his limbs are going to feel again. Still, he was unable to refuse her, seeing as it was the only thing that put such a genuine smile on her face, after so long. “Alright, my sweet flower - For you, I shall try any treatment, no matter how revolutionary or eccentric.”
He could barely keep himself standing up, as Y/N, in a fit of euphoria, threw her arms around his neck and swayed him. The treatment made him nauseated more often than not, and he vomited at some points, yet after good weeks of continuous intake of this oil, added with the herbal cleaning and ointments for his skin, and regular walking, his body was beginning to feel a little stronger than previously - It almost felt that he was getting younger. It was a scary feeling, for it was so good and hopeful, that he feared losing it, and in turn, Y/N’s happiness.
As Baldwin began regaining his strength, and to some degree, even the feeling in his arms and legs, and he was properly capable of holding a sword again, he was emboldened to think of a future of his own. First, he asked Sibylla whether he agrees to divorce Guy, especially now that she knows how awful of a man he was - But once again, he was denied - Thus, he was forced to exile this idiot, and with him, his sister also followed. With the timely death of his nephew, Baldwin V, at the mere age of 10, the King realised he had no direct Heir to ascend the throne once he dies, whenever that may be, and as he was incapable of creating an heir himself, and with Sibylla refusing to step up as a Queen, if Guy does not ascend with her; Once again, it fell on poor Tiberias to help out with this matter. He trusted Balian to become a good King, but of course, he wanted to live a peaceful life, as a blacksmith, not restrained by the burdens of a King.
Next, he had to get rid of both Guy and Reynald, permanently, so that there would be no risk of enticing the Muslim Leader to wage war on Jerusalem; Especially as he has him to thank for his unexpected recovery, and for as long as he may live, he will remain eternally grateful for his kindness.
Baldwin fortified the walls of Jerusalem and strengthened the bonds with the armies under him, and kept the Kingdom of Heaven safe. It was a true wonder, being able to stand on the balcony, with his wife’s arms around his body, and watch the starry night illuminating the city to beautifully, and the song of the crickets and toads resounding soothingly through the place. 
Though he was still uncomfortable with letting go of the mask, knowing well enough that people will keep being horrified of his disfigured face, he felt at ease, dancing with his lovely white rose around their room, hearing her sweet giggles, and seeing that beautiful, dazzling smile of hers that captured his heart, from the very first time that he laid his eyes on her.
Baldwin was a fool, so deeply in love with Y/N, that he prayed to God every day not to make him up from this reverie, for he is eternally grateful for keeping his Faith in times of need, and that He replied to him with the greatest gift there was - Not just the treatment, but his Queen’s happiness restored. The glee of a fool in love.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------                                           ANGST ENDING -------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Though the quest that Y/N embarked on was a success, once she returned to Jerusalem, she was met with the reality of her husband’s health, which was degrading at such a swift pace, even without the journey made. It was ridiculous, thinking that she went through all of that, yet it aided Baldwin with nothing, save for two weeks of worry over her well-being. What a disaster, she thought to herself, as she returned to her room, her head hung, and discarding the Kingly outfit with annoyance and disgust, as though she was a little brat throwing a temper tantrum.
“I do not have the power to say how worried I was over you, for I cannot help but be so proud of my Queen, and infinitely happy beyond the horizon, to feel your heart soulbound to mine own. I missed you more than the deserts miss the rain.” though he tried to reassure Y/N, he knew he wouldn’t be seeing the change of the seasons.
And his prediction was correct; Soon, he was unable to move whatsoever, and his white outfit was changed with a royal black and golden one; Even his silver mask was replaced with a golden one, and he could only lay on the bed, his eyes mostly closed, and awaiting the sweet release of death.
Unexpectedly, Y/N was came over, smiling, but also crying, holding a goblet filled with honeyed red wine; She sat comfortably over his waist, looking down at him - She looked like a child, with her eyes glazed, and expression slightly dazed - And she took another gulp of the wine. “Oh. Hello, my sweet white rose.” it was difficult for him to speak, and though he wanted to address her unexpected drunkness, he couldn’t. He knew his time was ending, and perhaps selfish, he wished to see her smile as the last thing he’d witness in this world. “What were you dreaming of, my love?” she slurred cutely, dropping the now empty goblet to the ground, her hands placed on his chest, and slowly roaming up to his chest. “How great it would have been, if we were not separated by a curse.” she hummed, allowing herself to fall over on the bed next to him, smiling widely. “We are in the earthly Kingdom of Heaven. Once we reach the Celestial Heavens, there will be no afflictions or diseases hindering our love any longer, and for the rest of eternity, in the afterlife, our love shall continue onwards, transcending this unseen barrier between us.” she nuzzled into his side; Baldwin wasn’t sure whether she was giggling, or sobbing - Yet he was pretty sure she was doing both. “We will be ruling over nothing except our love, and we will have no responsibility, except to ourselves. We will finally be free to live, and to love... And to be happy.” “My love... What was in that wine?” with a lethargic move, Y/N pulled him into her body, his head resting onto her chest.  “What were you dreaming of, my love?” she asked again - The excruciating revelation dawned on him - Y/N had poisoned herself. She could not bare seeing him die before her eyes, she couldn’t bare him dying before her, and her having to endure all the agony of a lonely life, with a shattered heart, never to be mended again. She cared little whether people would find out she killed herself, and she would get beheaded. Her only wish, written, was to be buried with him - Wish that she also voiced to him. “I was back in that summer, when I defeated Salah al-Din.” if he could cry, he would, not only for himself, but for Y/N feeling so heartbroken that she felt compelled to end it all. “Do you remember it? We were only 16.” “Of course I remember. I was so worried for you, out there, without anyone to care for you. I was praying to God every hour I was awake, to keep you safe, and have you return to me. I remember I jumped on you from happiness, as soon as you dismounted your horse. I toppled you to the ground. The Archbishop yelled at me for not behaving like a Queen, but Tiberias pushed him away, so he wouldn’t bother us.” he could only offer a weak, breathy chuckle as a reply. “You are as beautiful as the white rose that I put in your hair, that day, when we met. I am truly honoured that I had the fortune of being your husband. No man ever felt love, as much as I did, thanks to you.” he stole one last good look at her, before settling comfortably in her embrace. “My sweet white rose.” he called out. “Will you sing for me?” “Yes, my love. Allow me to sing you to sleep.”
I seek a man named Baldwin Whom I bid await me here I pledged that I would see him Before he leaves this sphere
This man of whom I speak He gave his heart to me But thence my soul grew weak And at last it too broke free
So borne upon an urgent breeze I travelled to his place Where only one thing could appease The torment I now face
Oh tell me I am not too late To see my love once more For that would be too cruel a fate I beg him be restored
That we may take a little time To bid our last farewell And remember all we shared erstwhile Such joy no one could quell
For never was a greater love Than that within our hearts Once born, forever binding us Through not e’en death we part
Who was the first to ascend to heavens, not even God knew, for they both appeared before him, holding each other so tenderly, looking like the most beautiful youth, foolishly in love with each other.
As in Eden, so on Earth, the two were found cradling each other, though the heart beat that once lulled the other to sleep, was no longer present; Yet a smile adorned both of their faces.  Just as left on the note, Y/N was buried together with King Baldwin IV - The King and Queen who loved each other more than any before, and certainly, any in the future also - The two lovers who could never be torn apart, in life, death, or anything in between.
Up there, however, they were no a pair of King and Queen, but just a man and a woman, fated to eternally love each other. They were just themselves - Y/N and Baldwin - Two fools, so foolishly in love with each other.
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balletfilmss · 6 months
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ALL DA LADIES LUV YN!!
✸ pairing: jason grace x fem!athena!reader smau
✸ notes: im shamelessly addicted to social media aus & haven’t seen a SINGLE one for my boy…lets change that
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…now playing: full machine — gracie abrams
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yn.ln: nru…expect my therapy bills for those exams (ft. the world’s worst study buddy)
tagged: j.grace
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seaweed.brain: aren’t athena kids supposed to be…smart?
╰┈➤ yn.ln: @wise.girl COME GET HIM, HE’S OUT AGAIN
╰┈➤ wise.girl: PERCEUS
╰┈➤ seaweed.brain: AINT NO WAY—
j.grace: everyone see that? that’s MY gf who made a 100 on the advanced calc exam. MY GIRLFRIEND 🗣️‼️
╰┈➤ piedpiper: simp in capital red letters
╰┈➤ j.grace: loud and proud
j.grace: don’t hate on my studying skills, that was at like 2 am 😒
╰┈➤ yn.ln: it was NINE PM???
╰┈➤ j.grace: it most certainly WAS NOT
╰┈➤ yn.ln: do not take that tone with me.
╰┈➤ j.grace: yes ma’am, i’m sorry
teamleo_: who’s the cutie in slide 3? 🤭😏
╰┈➤ yn.ln: the book’s called the hunger games, thanks for asking! 🫶
╰┈➤ j.grace: @yn.ln IS IT BULLY YOUR BOYFRIEND DAY???
hazzzelnut: WAY TO GO BABE, SO PROUD OF YOU
╰┈➤ yn.ln: hazel ilysm my precious sweet darling angel 🫶🩷😚
piedpiper: ignore that blondie, she snuck out to see me once he was asleep 🥱😝
╰┈➤ yn.ln: shhhhh pipes, they’re not supposed to know
╰┈➤ wise.girl: PIPER HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME???
╰┈➤ seaweed.brain: I BEG YOU FINEST FUCKING PARDON???
…now playing: steal my girl — one direction
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j.grace: smart girl appreciation post!!! 🤍 (piper mclean dni)
tagged: yn.ln
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teamleo_: gods bless yn for dealing with that blue eyed stare…she’s the strongest soldier ✊
╰┈➤ yn.ln: i try 😔
yn.ln: I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOU MY SWEET BOY 🩷
╰┈➤ j.grace: I LOVE YOU MORE PRETTY GIRL <3
piedpiper: giggling bc he doesn’t know that HE’S the side piece @yn.ln
╰┈➤ yn.ln: what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him
╰┈➤ j.grace: i will take this post DOWN
╰┈➤ yn.ln: nuh uh
seaweed.brain: okay, but annabeth can recite more digits of pi than yn 🤷‍♂️
╰┈➤ yn.ln: why are you such a hater
╰┈➤ wise.girl: and how many can YOU recite, percy, hm? 🤨
╰┈➤ yn.ln: GET HIS ASS ANNIE 🗣️🗣️
reyna_ara: i’ll always jump at the chance to look at some pictures of yn 🤭
╰┈➤ yn.ln: reyna ily
╰┈➤ j.grace: i’m blocking everyone but yn, leo, and like, my sister
╰┈➤ thaliyuh: do not think for a SECOND that i don’t also think you’re gf is hot (one chance, yn 🙏)
╰┈➤ j.grace: get out. all of you.
yn.ln: “all da ladies love leo!” no. all the ladies love yn, and their bfs want to be me 💪
╰┈➤ j.grace: i’m deleting this app.
yn.ln uploaded a story!
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2 replies!
@ seaweed.brain gag. me. with. a. spoon.
beth saw this & is on her way 😚
🏃💨
—————
@ j.grace. um. forever?? 🤭
well that’s the plan, isn’t it?
you know it, sweetheart
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stylespresleyhearted · 6 months
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THIS JUST IN: CALLUM TURNER SOON TO BE DAD
masterlist can be found here
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liked by anthonyboyle and 53819 others
yourinstagram strollin’ London w my London boy
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fan12 am i gonna have to be the one to say it … she’s pregnant
fan23 i agree she’s only been seen in callum’s clothes of oversized jackets it’s diff from her usual style
user13 deuxmoi said on her podcast that a trusted source confirmed she’s pregnant. I believe it you can see a hint of the belly here.
user23 1) we’re in 2024 how about we stop speculating women are pregnant every time their bodies change and 2) if they are pregnant Callum will share when he’s ready respect their privacy
fan49 PLEASE Callum she ain’t going anywhere why you gripping so tight 😭😭
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tmz BREAKING NEWS: After months of speculation TMZ is finally able to confirm, Callum Turner and his girlfriend are expecting. Turner’s leading lady was photographer exiting his Los Angeles home. More pics and video in link in bio.
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user23 the violation of privacy is INSANE! Callum and Y/N I’m so sorry.
fan41 DM SAID IT!!! Congrats to the lovely couple!
user02 They were probably trying to enjoy it between the two of them but TMZ sat outside their home to snap photos. Callum’s already so private now he’s going to give us NOTHING i hope ya’ll nosy people happy
user78 callum been daddy iktr 🙌🏼
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yourinstagram When we found out I was pregnant we were so overjoyed we felt like our hearts could burst. It was something we were keeping sacred between our friends and family now that has been taken from us.
Mumma and Daddy can’t wait to meet you, baby. We promise to always protect and put you first. Thank you everyone for all the love and we ask that you respect our privacy during this time. - Cal & Y/N
comments have been limited
rafflaw His hand is always on the belly! Congrats man!
keoghan92 Let me and Brando know when you’re free for a playdate ♥️ children are the most precious things, much love
austinbutler Congratulations, love you guys.
lillyjames The media is horrid. So much love to your little family <3
camillerow Can’t wait to spoil them rotten
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dailymail Despite how news of his impending fatherhood broke, Callum Turner was all smiles on the Masters of the Air set as he received hugs and congratulations from the cast and crew.
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user13 He is overjoyed he is going to be the best Dad
fan12 it feels so good to see him so happy 😭
user93 do ya’ll think Barry and him crack Dad jokes on the set? LMAO
fan21 Sending him and his family all the love as they celebrate these fantastic news ❤️❤️
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callumupdates Y/N spotted looking a bit sick at the market yesterday. Hope she is doing okay 🥺
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user21 she looks insanely gorgeous wdym sick
callumupdates she’s always gorgeous but you can’t deny she looks tired and pale i’m worried the attention could be getting to her i hope callum is taking good care of her and their baby.
fan12 She’s pregnant, leave her alone.
fan13 Some women get overly tired/sick while pregnant. It’s a big change for the body. We should do what they asked and respect their privacy during this time. Why would a pap be following her around in her state?
user09 i’m really worried guys
yourinstagram Guys, I promise I’m fine and Callum is the best support system I could have ever possibly asked for 💘 Some women thrive during pregnancy but it’s kicking my ass and having someone follow me around snapping pics when I don’t feel my best doesn’t help, however I’m still so so happy to be carrying our precious gift. Thank you all for the love and support.
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callumfan HOW MANY TIMES DO WE HAVE TO SAY IT? Callum and Y/N already asked for privacy and Y/N has already stated she doesn’t feel her best/isn’t comfortable having people take pictures of her right now! Why is that so hard to respect?
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user19 this picture is heartbreaking. he’s glaring at the camera and it looks like she’s sinking into him trying to hide.
user11 she looks so tired and sad it sucks
fan13 don’t want no one complaining about callum being private because this right here is why he doesn’t share with us
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liked by fan12 and 976 others
callumupdates Callum was not happy when he stopped for fans and they approached Y/N after he explicitly told them not to. She was in one of his sweaters and beanies and looked like she was trying to hide, according to a fan there. Callum stepped in and told the fans to step away from Y/N before the couple walked away.
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user23 Y/N is acting like she’s the first person to get pregnant she’s dramatic
fan13 she has stated she is happy to be carrying their child but the pregnancy is taking a toll on her body and mind which is why she’s always hiding/ looks tired. Not everyone has amazing pregnancies
keoghan92 It’s already annoying as is when you’re feeling like shit and people shove cameras in your face. Can’t imagine having to deal with it while also being pregnant. Cheers Y/N, may everyone start giving you the respect you deserve
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callumupdates New photo of Callum consoling Y/N last night after the restaurant they were at was swarmed - March 28
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fan23 he’s gonna pop off on someone and at this point he has every right
user12 I love them so much it hurts to see her he so sad!
fan19 alright who do I have to fight?
user10 there’s nothing Callum wouldn’t do for her 🥹
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yourinstagram Little munchkin is wearing momma out 🫶🏻 Thank you to everyone for the concern, as I stated before it’s been a huge change for my body to adjust but I have never been happier. Callum, I love you and our baby to the moon and back forever. ♾️
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kaiagerber you’re unreal
lillyjames I know Mr. Turner is taking great care of you 😌
yourinstagram He’s the best and possibly more nervous/excited than me haha
yourfriendsinstagram LOVE YOU PEOPLE ♥️
anthonyboyle if I buy the pregnancy stimulator can we put it on these assholes saying shit online? You’re great Y/N!
yourinstagram LOL STOP IT!
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rafflaw Catch us outside if you wanna talk about @yourinstagram 👊🏻👊🏻👊🏻
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yourinstagram YOU GUYS ARE CRAZY 😂🫶🏻
keoghan92 where am I at? I’m leading the cause
anthonyboyle photoshop us in right now
tomhanks I want a piece of this too.
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callumupdates Y/N and Callum on their babymoon in Cabo. Friends and family in attendance are: their mothers, Barry Keoghan, Sabrina Carpenter, Austin Butler and his girlfriend, Lilly James, Sophie Turner, Daisy Lowe, and Nick Grimshaw.
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fan19 they are so loved 🥰 as they should be tbh
user23 I’m so happy they have a strong support system
fan24 it feels so good to see Y/N smile again
yourinstagram honestly it’s been a wild ride but Callum’s been my biggest blessing through it all 🫶🏻♾️
Hope you all enjoy, this was a request <3 If anyone’s interested in part 2 let me know because I have loads of baby pics I can use lmao & as always feel free to pop in and talk to me about Callum, Austin, Elvis, or Harry if your heart desires 💘
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Text
Safe Keeping | 6
Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7
What say you, lady? Don't you think the Hound would make a fine husband? He would protect you, yes, and you would bear him many babes." I curtsy again but this time, my voice falters when I speak, "I- I think he would," I turn to my left, "Lord Sandor would make a fine husband... a fine father."
Sandor Clegane x Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, forced marriage, smut (piv, emotional sex, praise kink), enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, miscommunication, baby fever, fluff!, typos, etc.
A/N: i said i'd end this on p5 but i think i'll be ending at p7 HAHHAH lol. originally posted on ao3 but felt like posting it on here
Tagging: @otteropera @poisonsage808 @glitterandgoldfinds @the-queen-of-sorrows @minttea07 @fluffpudel @j3nn-1 @jelsasnowflakes1
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"My lady," followed by high pitched barking made me turn around from where I sat in the garden.
Maester Yannick was walking over to me, with three puppies on his trail. He lifts his robe when he feels one of the critters nip at it. He hisses at them and tells them not to bite. Rose barks and takes it as a challenge.
I chuckle and shush her, raising a finger as I bend down to reinforce the discipline.
Rose looks at me then scurries off.
I straighten up on the bench as Yannick sits beside me. We both then turn to the soldiers in the making, training across the grounds of Brown Wood.
The Hound barks at them when they get their positions wrong.
"He is lovely today," Yannick tells me.
I turn to him and chuckle, but nod nonetheless.
He continues observing my husband, "he's been training long, hasn't he?"
"Mmm. Perhaps a couple hours," I look back at Sandor, "why? Do you think it is bad for his wounds?"
"I think it is bad for you," he looks at me.
I pull my head back, "me?"
The maester stands, "you are wasting precious time. Both of you are in good conditions," he links his hands together, "for the good of your house, it would be wise for you to be more... vigilant about producing heirs."
I feel my face drop and burn.
"As you know, my lady, the herbs I make for you are not cheap. It would be a shame to put them to waste due to a lack of effort."
I clear my throat and turn away from him.
Maester Yannick nods, "which reminds me, I will go and fetch you some tea right now."
I watch him walk away.
Once he was gone, my attention is averted back to Sandor. In truth, now more than ever has his hound persona been more apparent to me. Besides his fierceness, his snarling, his grit, the way he bared his teeth and howled at everyone, I could see his loyalty, his need to do good by the people in his life, his protectiveness, especially when it came to fighting, and his warmth.
I begin to think about Daisy. I turn to my side and watch as the pups begin to wreck the garden with their paws.
I find myself thinking about that night... that night when he said he loved me.
I rub my belly, not liking the way my stomach churned at my string of thoughts.
I watch as Sandor straightens up a boy, who was about to fall flat on his face, with one hand. He shakes his head at the child and says he can't fight if he's fighting himself too.
I imagine him speaking the same way to our son.
It was a horrible mistake. As quickly as I thought of it, I then remember telling him to give me a child by another woman.
I've set him free. He does not belong to me; in truth, he never did.
I quickly stand and wipe my face.
This was no longer leisure, this was torture.
I quickly run inside, retreating to my bedroom. Once I am there, I takes my shoes off, plop on my bed, and stare up at my ceiling. I look at the cobwebs in the distant corners and I wonder why I felt like crying but had no tears to shed. I lie there in silence, wishing nothing but to waste away.
I lift my head up from the sheets and turn to the door when I hear it open. I immediately stand and brush my skirts, "Sandor."
The feel of the cold floor on my bare feet send a shiver down my spine.
Sandor cautiously looks at me, "is everything alright?"
"Mmm?" I raise my brows, "what- why do you ask?"
"You ran inside and left your babes in the garden"
My lips part at his words. My hand instinctively comes to my belly.
"Pups," he raises a hand, "I meant pups. I didn't mean--"
Sandor is cut off by the voice of maester Yannick calling my name as he knocked on my door. Sandor opens the door for him and the old man enters, smiling when he sees the two of us. He is about to hand me the tea but then decides otherwise and puts it on my vanity.
He turns to Sandor, "I am pleased you decided to attend to your wife. Her fertility herbs are slowly being depleted. I was beginning to fear it would be for naught."
I grow frigid.
With that, the maester nods and exits, "please do enjoy each other's company."
The sound of the door closing leaves me red in the face. I lock eyes with Sandor then look away, clearing my throat. I flinch when he calls out my name.
I turn back and rub my arms, "yes... husband?"
"I didn't come here for that," he mutters, raising a hand cautiously.
My chest tightens. Of course not. I open my mouth, but he cuts me off before I could make a sound.
"I came to check if you're alright," he slowly steps forward.
I tense and nod, "I am well."
I feel my heart race when he takes another step towards me.
"Y-you needn't worry about me."
"I always worry about you," he mutters as he walks closer.
My words catch in my throat, "what?"
"Let me help you," he speaks, now only a few steps away from me.
My heart is pounding. I step back slowly, "h-help?"
"In the way only a man can," he lets out a heavy breath.
My calves hit the bed. I stop in my tracks and stand frozen. The Hound is now looking down at me. I am too overwhelmed by his presence to do anything else but stare.
The next thing I know, my gaze is drawn downward as he sits on the bed and peers up at my form.
"If you want a child from me," he whispers, "I'll give you one by no other woman but you." 
I look at him, heart in my mouth, body burning. I scratch my fingers and nod at his words.
Sandor sighs, "I need to hear you say it."
"I-" I shakily speak, "I want a child," I face him, "a child by you... my lord."
His brows knit.
My breath hitches when he touches my waist.
I can hear his heavy breathing as he whispers, "Sandor. Please."
I gulp as his palm rubs slowly across my belly. The action makes my skin prickle with goosebumps. My hand comes atop his. I oblige, "Sandor."
He gently tugs me in between his legs and my breath nearly escapes me. He rests his hands on my hips then pulls me in, sinking his face into my side. My ribs rattle with how quick my pulse was.
Sandor inhales deeply, "gods, you smell good."
I feel my body burn, "i-it's lavender oil."
I squeak when he pulls me down onto his lap. He cages me against him, my back flush against his chest. He sinks his face into my neck and slowly draws in a breath. His arms snake around me as he hotly speaks, "it's you, my pretty squirrel."
I feel his hands slowly lift my skirts up. My hands latch onto his arm that was still around my belly.
"Be calm, my wife, I cleaned up before coming here, in case I had to wipe your tears."
I make a sound as he knocks his nose into my jaw and exposes one of my legs to him. 
"I don't like it when you're upset."
My breath hitches, "I-I'm not upset."
"Good."
Sandor feels the goosebumps on my skin when his hand makes contact with my bare thigh. He shushes me as he rubs and kneads my flesh. I whimper and begin to squirm when his hand hikes up my inner thigh.
His fingers touch my clothed center. He breathes hotly against the pulse of my neck, "I'm going to take this off, mmm?"
I gulp and nod slowly at his words.
I maneuver with him when his hands come under my skirts to rid me of my smallclothes. He doesn't like the space that is created between us and rips me back into him. He ruts his hips into mine to add to his point.
I whine when Sandor's right hand rubs into my heat.
"Fuck," he hisses, "you've worked yourself up over nothing."
I make a louder noise when he prods his fingers into my pulsing entrance. I can feel his fingers slide with ease against my warm folds. I instinctively grip his arm when he sinks into me.
Sandor's other arm, in turn, tightens around me, "you can take it. You've taken more than my fingers, beautiful."
I whimper when he sinks another finger into me and begins to pump in and out. My breathing grows heavier and I throw my head back on his shoulder as he moves into me.
I feel his beard scratch into my neck. I feel his teeth graze lightly into my skin. His fingers languidly move in and out of me, even as I clench my thighs together. He makes no move to part them, and in truth, it doesn't hinder his movements at all.
I feel his tongue dart out on my neck, "I want to taste you."
I slowly lift my head from his shoulder just as he pulls his hand away from my thighs and brings his fingers into his mouth. I feel sobered by his action, taken aback by how filthy it was yet how eagerly he did it.
The next thing I know, he pulls back and lets my body fall in a space between his thighs. He quickly undoes his trousers. After, he pushes me onto my feet, and grips my hips. He rather impatiently rips up my skirts and I feel my thighs shake when he grips my bare flesh.
He pulls me back down on him, and I mewl when I feel his hardened length slip clumsily between my thighs, not yet entering me. I settle on him; the sensation of his clothes on my skin makes my belly roll.
"Fuck," he growls, as my thighs instinctively clamp around him. Sandor is unable to withhold the bucking of his hips.
When he does this, pleasure, crackling like embers, tingle up my body.
"Open up," he hisses, one hand coming between my legs, "I have to be inside you. I have to come inside, have to come inside your weeping cunny."
"Sandor," I whine as I slowly part my legs.
"I know, pretty squirrel. You're so worked up, for me," he breathes against my ear then nips at my lobe, "so fucking eager."
A drawn out whine escapes my lips when he sheathes himself into me.
He wastes no time in moving. I end up squeaking as he braces me against him and firmly thrusts upward into me.
My cries grow louder as his arms tighten beneath my breasts. I feel his hand knead one breast, but it doesn't last very long.
I am throttled onto my chest and pressed down on the sheets. Sandor lifted me up like I was nothing and adjusted me on the edge of the bed.
I'm barely on my tiptoes, as most of my weight was shifted on my spine from of how my husband was hoisting me up to cater to himself.
His movements quickly pick up the pace, and our position becomes reminiscent of the time he had me like this once before, only this time, his one hand was rubbing my scarred hip and he was much more vocal.
"Look at you, all bent over and mine," he groans.
I nails dig into the sheets.
"I'm gonna fill you up. You're going to be so fucking full of me."
I squeal into the sheets. The idea drives me wild. I plead into the bed but I don't think he hears it.
Just as I felt something begin to build in me, he slows.
I open my eyes, not realizing I had closed them as Sandor drops one of my hips. I squeak when I feel him grab my shoulder and slowly turn me on my back.
My jaw drops; I breathe heavily through my mouth. Sandor looks down on me as his hands grip my sides. He pushes me upward and presses my legs by my ribs
He slowly thrusts into me, hands working their way across my body. He rubs my thighs, my belly, my breasts. His brows furrow, "fuck. So fucking soft and warm."
He massages my breasts then works his way up to my shoulders. His one hand rubs my neck before clutching my jaw. His other hand slides back down my hips. I whine when his thumb rubs circles around my sensitive nub. It makes my toes curl.
He sighs, "so fucking beautiful."
I whimper when his other thumb swipes my lips. I find myself licking at it. It makes him groan and buck into me faster.
I push my head back and arch my spine, "fuck- Sandor."
Both his hands land on my hips. He digs his nails into my flesh and begins to move deeper. Eventually, he sinks one hand down by the side of my head for support. My hands latch onto his hips.
"Come for me, pretty girl," he groans, "I'm not gonna last much longer."
I tug at his clothes.
"Be a good girl and come all over my cock, mmm. I want to feel you tighten around me-- get all messy and wet and loud and," he gives deliberate thrusts, "so fucking beautiful."
I whine, "Sandor, I want- I want to-"
I begin to tighten and shake against him. My legs wrap around him and my hands cling onto him for dear life. I find it futile to conceal my sounds, as I cannot find the strength to shut my mouth as I ride the feeling of bliss.
With a loud cuss, Sandor rams into me as deeply as he can. His movements are rough and slow. Both of his hands secured on my waist as he spills his seed into me.
I can feel him throb and can feel myself dripping with warmth.
Sandor takes his time, really drawing out the feeling before slowly coming to a halt. He lets out a final moan when he does stop then takes a deep breath.
I look at him as he closes his eyes and straightens up. My body burns when he looks down at me through hooded eyes and rubs my body again. He enjoys rubbing my breasts the most.
My hands come to his arms, and that seems to stop him.
I am about to tell him not to stop, but he speaks before I can, "wrap your legs round me."
In truth, I didn't have to do anything as he wraps my legs around himself and picks me up in his arms. I hook my feet around each other and am careful not to touch his blistered back as my hands go to his shoulders.
Sandor crawls up the bed with me clinging onto him; I feel the strength in his muscles as he moves. He sets me down on the pillows. He arranges one under my head and brings one beside me.
He looks at me for a moment then whispers, "I'm going to pull away now."
He waits for me to respond before doing anything.
In truth, the thought of him pulling away from me makes my body ache with sadness, but I slowly nod anyway.
I close my eyes as Sandor gently draws away from me. My emotions immediately overcome me in my vulnerable state. I rub my eyes when I feel tears build behind my lids. Sandor fixes my skirt and gathers my legs together. I feel him take the pillow beside me and stuff if bellow my bum.
"This will help keep my spend from dripping out."
His explanation makes my body burn.
I feel Sandor shuffle beside the bed and I hear him fixing his clothing.
I clench my jaw, dreading what I knew exactly was to come next.
I open my eyes when he calls my name. I look at him pathetically, noticing how his skin glowed with sweat, the last evidence that he was ever in me beyond his untucked shirt.
He reaches out to me and I really don't want to take his hand knowing he'll leave me after, so I don't.
I have no idea why he still grabs my hand. The action feels like a betrayal. He rubs my knuckles before kissing them. I chew my lip, feeling wronged over the fact he has never kissed my lips and probably never will.
"I will be leaving now," he mutters.
His words gut me, as always. 
I rip my hand out of his and turn away from him, "very well."
Sandor knits his brows at the sharp withdrawal. He was gentle was he not? Still, he's being turned away.
His mouth goes dry. He slowly steps back, "I..."
I turn my body away from him. I draw in a deep breath and try to make my voice as even as possible, "thank you, Sandor."
Sandor flinches. He steps back some more, "I-I'll bring your dogs here for company."
I chuckle dryly. Company. My voice breaks, "I'm tired."
Sandor's mouth twitches. He backs all the way up to the door, "I'll let you rest then."
I cover my face with my arm and hum in agreement, not trusting myself to speak anymore.
The moment I hear the click of the door, I begin to sob. I whine as his words replay in my head. How could he tell me such things, call me beautiful and say he wants me, then leave me right after? How could he touch me like that then want nothing to do with me?
I pull the pillow from underneath my head and wail into it.
Sandor, who couldn't find it in himself to step away from the door, decides not to walk back in when he hears the crying. His belly curdles with self-loathing. He feels like he's going to choke because of how hurt the noise sounded, nevermind how lovely it was seconds ago; it meant for nothing.
He walks away trying to figure out where he went wrong. He relives every touch, every sound in his memory. His eyes water when he comes to the dreadful realization it must have been horrible being with him. He forced his wretched looks onto an unwilling witness.
He gulps as he sniffles and wipes his face in frustration. He feels like walking into the forest, never to be seen again, but then he steps out to the garden and hears small barking sounds. He looks at the three pups, playing with the boys, who should have been training, and feels his heart twist.
He finds himself imagining what the scene would've been like if Daisy was here... if his pretty squirrel-- he shuts the thought away.
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I knock on Sandor's office door and enter when he tells me to come in.
He looks up, does a double take, then immediately stops doing whatever it was he was doing. He clears his throat, "Lady Clegane."
His words pierce through me. He's never called me that before. I close the door and walk towards him, "Lord husband. Good morrow to you. Where is Andrew?"
His shoulders tense, "he... should be here any minute."
I nod as I halt in front of his desk, "he has gotten good enough at reading and balancing coin, I hope?"
Sandor sighs, "yes."
I notice the crumbs on his beard, then I notice a plate on his desk. He must have broken fast here. I fidget with my fingers and wipe my chin, hoping he would get the message. He doesn't. I decide not to note on it and simply get to the point, "maester Yannick said your wounds have dried up, and that if you liked, you could go on your rounds again."
Sandor nods and straightens in his chair, "I think I'll start once I'm confident in the bloke balancing our coin."
I nod slowly and link my hands together, "alright," I shift in my spot and turn to the door.
I look back at him and feel my body burn under his scrutiny. I offer a smile, "that is all I wanted to say," I rub my hands together, "-wanted to check on you."
I gasp when he jumps out of his chair.
I clutch my chest and stare at him. He had an arm raised and reached out to me. It dawns on me he said something but it was too quick for me to catch.
I release a breath, "pardon?"
Sandor lowers his hand, rolls his shoulders back, and clears his throat, "I... I asked how you're doing."
It takes me a few moments to realize the meaning of his words. I shift and my spot and rub my chest. I feel my neck burn when he further clarifies his question.
"Yesterday, when we... bedded, I didn't hurt you, did I?"
I draw out a deep breath and smile softly, "you were... gentle with your touches."
Sandor is unsatisfied.
I aimlessly look around, "and, anyway, I am not as fragile as you think."
He purses his lips and tilts his head. He takes a moment before speaking, and when he does, he does so hesitantly, "I was afraid I made my pretty wife weep again."
I instinctively let out a laugh, but it was clearly unamused and pained. I feel like I was being scorched alive when I look at him looking at me. I shake my hands, suddenly in denial, "no, I was quite satisfied!"
Sandor's eyes widen a fraction.
Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. What am I saying?
He blinks twice and wipes his mouth. Finally his crumbs fall off. He mutters, "that's... good."
I release my final chuckle. He turns to his desk, fixes some things, then looks back to me. He looks like he means to smile but he doesn't, "I'm glad."
He slowly sits down afterwards.
I feel like I'm being weighed down by anchor.
That was it. That was the conversation.
Sandor is no longer looking at me. He shuffles the paper into a file and I slowly begin to feel the air around us thicken.
He sets the parchment down and darts his eyes to me. He purses his lips again and I catch the way his face twitches. He opens his mouth and slowly points to the door, "if that's all... I would not keep you."
I don't know why I laugh again, but I do. It's not even funny. I feel like being stabbed would have been better, more amusing at this point. I curtsy at him and shuffle backwards, "of course. I do not mean to keep you either."
Sandor feels sick. He clenches his fists and turns to his desk. He breathes in deeply, trying not to rile himself up any more than he already was. Gods knew he would use all his strength to keep this room locked.
I walk towards the door and turn the knob. I feel a wave of tears threatening to spill, and I slap my mouth when a squeak leaves me.
Sandor is immediately alerted. He looks up and pushes himself on the edge of the seat, "what?"
I turn to the ground and wipe my face. I take two seconds for myself then turn to him. I cover up with a chuckle, "I said... y-your beard."
Sandor immediately rubs his beard.
I chuckle louder, trying to convince myself that I actually found it funny, "you have crumbs on your beard."
Sandor looks at me like I grew another head.
I laugh enough that I actually start laughing at myself.
When I stop, the silence is loud.
Sandor clears his throat and cautiously asks, "you find that funny?"
My stomach drops when I see the red tinge of his ears. I walk up to his side and shake my head, "wait, no- I- I didn't mean it like that."
Sandor shakes his head and offers me a quick and small smile, "it's fine. I just wasn't expecting that from you," he looks back to his desk, "anyway, I'm used to it."
I feel like my entrails were being grinded.
A line forms in his brows, "I don't think I've ever heard you laugh before."
"I wasn't laughing at you!" I whimper under my breath. The air in my lungs begin to catch in my throat as I exhale, "I was just- I ju-"
Sandor turns to me, face slipping when he catches my teary eyes.
He stands and takes my shoulders.
I blink my tears away and smile in an attempt to calm myself. I am glad I do not shed a tear. I speak through a loud breath, "I'm just nervous when I'm around you!"
Sandor immediately releases me. He sighs through his nostrils, "scared, you mean."
I shake my head and take his shoulders, "nervous."
The Hound seizes up like there was a knife to his neck. I take a moment to look at him and pull back.
I cannot deny it hurt when he immediately steps away from me.
I really should have left at this point, but my mouth had a mind of its own. I furrow my brows and give him an earnest look, "I can trim your beard for you."
He steps back one last time, then looks at me as if I now had three heads.
I realize my mistake, "if-if you want me to. I'm not saying you should, I'm just offering to-"
"You want to do that for me?"
I turn to stone. I look around nervously, "mmm... o-only if you'd have it... ... my lord."
Sandor's face twitches. He sighs and slumps forward. He furrows his brows, "you'd be staring at my face the whole time."
I watch him as he rummages through his things.
My stomach rolls again and I step back, "ah... I see."
Sandor stops to look at me.
"If you do not feel comfortable, I will not..."
My words run dry when he pulls out shears. I watch him as he straightens up. He grips the tool in his hand, "it's you I'm worried about."
I look up at him, not knowing what to say.
"I don't mean to scare yo-"
"I'm not scared of you," I mutter.
Sandor stares at me. After a moment, he slowly takes my hand and hands me the shears, "maybe you should be."
My chest pounds at fleeting touch.
I cut his beard in the garden, as I didn't want to make a mess in his office.
He sits on the bench there.
The breeze blows at both our hair.
"You needn't touch me so gently, girl," he says, "it will take a lot of you to hurt me."
I do not change the manner in which I touch his cheek. I can feel Sandor looking at me, but I do not avert my attention away from his beard, "just because you do not hurt easily doesn't mean I cannot be gentle with you, Hound."
The Hound reaches out to my thighs when my foot rolls on a rock. I barely even fidget, but, still, he holds me in place to keep me from a potential fall. He does not release me. I gulp when I feel his thumb rub my skirt.
"You can hurt me if you like," he says.
I pull back and furrow my brows, "would you like that?"
He grinds his lower lip in his teeth. He debates for a moment and I decide to snip his mustache. I shush him when he tries to speak. He purses his lips tightly.
A moment passes with just the sound of cutting.
"I wouldn't want to cut your lips off," I shift in front of him, still ever so aware of his touch of my thighs, "you still need them to kiss."
I pull away to check if his mustache was straight. I notice his expression, dumbfounded, and continue snipping. I sigh, "that was a jest."
I pull away and again and move to the other side. Sandor still keeps his hands on me. He looks at me as I gently move his head.
I add, "I'm quite funny actually."
He chuckles lowly.
It makes my heart flutter.
He smiles, "oh, I don't doubt it, little girl."
I flatten my lips into a line, unsure if he was serious or not. I trim the hair by his jaw.
"You must like kissing then."
I freeze in my spot. I stop what I was doing, then continue, "what do you mean?"
He pulls his hands away. I watch him link them together and rest them on his lap. He shrugs, "you thought of kissing."
"Do you like kissing?"
I place a hand on my hip. He turns to me and shrugs again, "s'fine."
I furrow my brows and mimic his shrug, "well, you've never kissed me, so I wouldn't really know, would I?"
"You've never kissed a man before?"
"No," I impatiently respond, "I've kissed you, but you did not kiss me back," I take a few last cuts off his beard, "on our wedding day, remember?"
I see Sandor's look of disbelief when I finish and brush him off. Specks of hair fly off with the wind.
"You never kissed a little lord in secret as a little girl?"
"Only a big lord," I make a face, "as according to you I still am a little girl."
He stands from where he sat and peers down at me.
I purse my lips and cross my arms. I shrug, "point taken."
His brown eyes glimmer with confusion. I find myself raising my brows. Just as he is about to speak-
"MILORD, MILADY!"
We turn to the three young men walking over to us. I recognize them as Sandor's training apprentices. They push each other as I turn and smile at them.
"Good morn', lady!" Harry says, bowing exaggeratedly at me, "your dress is very rambunctious."
I furrow my brows at his words and find myself chuckling, "uhhh, thank you?"
Sandor raises his brows and curls his lips.
Daniel slaps Harry behind the head, "YOU MUG, D'YA KNOW WHAT YOU SAID, EVEN?"
Harry hisses and shoves Daniel, "DON'T HIT ME!"
Daniel gets shoved again when he incidentally elbows Richard, "OI, WATCH IT!"
The boys begin to quarrel. 
I step back before they can accidentally hit me, in turn, knocking my back into Sandor's.
"Enough!" the Hound barks, making the three brothers, or at least they acted like that, stop and turn to him.
My eyes widen at the sound of the Hound telling the boys off. I watch each of them tense as their Lord Clegane goes on a whole speech about biting off more than they can chew, and that, "if you lot want to act all tough around me, know I'll knock all three of your egg-heads with my hands tied."
I turn to the Hound, "Sandor."
He lets out a deep breath then eyes the three before him, "fuck off."
The boys immediately scram.
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I bend over and grip my hips as I catch my breath. Lucy laughs at me as she beckons the puppies over with a stick. They come running over then she throws the stick for them to chase.
I huff, "these pups will be the death of me."
Lucy snorts, "and here I thought you wanted children."
I glare at her as the three small dark furred creatures begin to chase her around the garden as she runs. I call out in offence, "I do!"
Lucy runs over to me, "well, don't you know babes are far worse that this!" 
She giggles when she grabs my shoulders and uses me as a shield for the dogs. Though I was still winded, I laugh with her as the puppies prance around me. I grab Lucy's arm and begin to wrangle with her, "at least my babes will learn to speak. These pups know no sense!"
Lucy pushes me forward, encouraging me, "no, no, go on, s'your time to run, milady!"
I whine, "I really can't, Lucy."
"Oh, come on, lovie, you used to be full of energy! You're actin' as old as maester Yannick."
I hold back a laugh and shoot Lucy a look.
She shoots one back, "what? Did I lie?"
"Girls."
Lucy and I stop and turn to whom spoke. Sandor looks at us the way he always did, scrutinizing and serious.
I straighten up and nod in regard, "my lord."
Sandor sighs and looks away with annoyance. Wind blows his hair, adding effect to his expression. He looks down when the puppies begin to run towards him. They stand on their hind legs, pant, and bark. I swear I saw his exterior break into fondness.
But then he looks at me and it's all gone, "this came for you." He holds out a letter to me between his fingers, "I don't recognize the house sigil."
I walk up to him, smoothening my skirt out, then take the letter. I look at the wax seal for only a second then open the letter.
Sandor watches me raise my brows. He chuckles.
Lucy watches Sandor smile softly before purposefully frowning.
I look up at my husband, "it's from house Alistair."
Sandor's face scrunches up, "never heard of it."
I huff and delay my response to stop the puppies from chewing at the Hound's trousers. Sandor watches as I do this and gently shakes the puppies away. He takes my arm, preventing me from bending down, "I don't mind. They're just pups."
I give him a look, "if I don't stop them now when they're tiny, nothing will stop them when they're big."
Sandor watches as I sternly tell off the puppies and shoo them away. He chuckles at it, but then freezes when Lucy chuckles as well. The two make eye contact. Sandor doesn't have time to react.
"Cedric."
He turns to me, face contorting, "what?"
The puppies run off and Lucy runs along with them. I continue to explain, "Cedric is from House Alistair. You know, the lord that gave us a place to stay. You called him pretty bo-"
"I remember the fucker," he snaps.
I tense.
The Hound's nostrils flare, "what does he want?"
Suddenly, the letter in my hand feels heavy. I shrug, "he's invited us to his nameday celebration."
Sandor scoffs, "you mean he's invited you."
I release a frustrated huff when he begins to walk away. I follow after him and open the letter. I clear my throat and read aloud, "Fair greetings to Brown Wood, the home of House Clegane. May this letter find you in good spirits and health."
Sandor rolls his eyes as he walks back inside. He makes no haste, but I do, in order to keep up with him. I continue, "Seven days from now, I, Cedric Alistair, will be celebrating my--"
"I don't fucking care, little girl," he stops in his tracks and turns to me.
I nearly collide with him, but I gladly don't. I purse my lips and continue anyway, skipping to the part that holds my point, "if the Lord and Lady Clegane be so courteous in taking time out of their day to attend my feast, I would gladly-"
"Do you want to go, squirrel?"
I look up at him, blinking at the sight of his stern expression. I have to say, the omission of the word pretty for his petname made it feel... wrong. I clutch the letter by my belly, "he hosted us, me, Lucy... Daisy, even you, when we had nowhere to go. I think it only proper to attend his nameday to show appreciation and respect."
Sandor's eye twitches. He looks away and sighs.
I chew my lower lip, "he was kind to us, Sandor. I only mean to-"
"Fine," he cuts me off, "but if he touches you," he walks off, "I'm going to kill him."
His statement make my stomach churn. I cannot for the life of me understand what the intent of his words are. I chase after him again, "what if he asks me to dance with him?"
Sandor chuckles dryly, "a fine reason to chop him up."
He stops when I grab his arm. He looks at my hand on his bicep then gives me a look as I say, "you cannot kill him."
Sandor places his hand atop mine, "then don't fucking dance with him."
He squeezes my hand but it is not rough at all. It's gentle and extremely warm. He doesn't even try to pry my grip off, in fact, it's like he was tightening it on hm. My lips part and my body begins to burn.
I then realize when he was close enough for me to feel his breathing that he had been leaning in. I catch the way his eyes dart down to my mouth. I find myself slowly pressing my lips together.
I close my eyes when Sandor comes close to my cheek. I swear I felt my heart leap into my mouth when he pressed his face against mine.
He draws in a deep breath then sighs, "have you ever seen a hound share?"
The silence between us is deafening.
"Hmm?" he hums.
I open my mouth but nothing but mindless sounds leave me.
"I don't even think your pups do that."
My breath catches in my throat when he I feel his beard and his lips press gently against the crook of my neck.
Then the next moment, he releases me and pulls away like nothing happened.
We stare at each other for the longest second of my life. I feel like I'm on fire. What's worse is that I don't think he realizes just how affected I am, or actually... maybe it was good he couldn't tell I was dying inside.
"Still," he nods, "a dog is a dog and I will do as my master commands."
I feel light headed when he walks away.
I clutch my belly and walk to the nearest surface for support. I rub my neck, wondering if that really just happened.
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ponderingmoonlight · 5 months
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Hello Carina! I absolutely ADORE your works I'm hooked Was wondering if you could do Geto/Nanami/Gojo/Sukuna x fem reader who grew up in a toxic household that encouraged bad eating habits like eating extremely small amounts and tried to always make her a good and docile wife. But she left them and is now pretty successful but her eating habits are still pretty bad Please stay hydrated this summer!
A lot of you guys request stuff like bad heating habits from me and I'm actually a little scared that I receive a shit storm for writing these sensitive topics, but there you go! I decided on Geto since he is the sweetest boy ever but if this goes well and some of you guys show interest, I might write something similar for the other characters as well - enjoy <3
Geto encouraging his girlfriend to eat more after growing up in a toxic household
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Pairing: Geto x fem!reader
Word Count: 1,6k
Synopsis: After your toxic parents tried to force you into their picture of a thin and docile wife, you left them as soon as possible and became the best version of yourself - if it wasn't for your bad eating habits still haunting you down when you're out with your boyfriend. Until he decides to have a talk with you...
Warnings: Just let me tell you right from the start that there's nothing wrong with being thin and I hope it's obvious that we're talking about an unhealthy connotation in this fic, if you get triggered when it comes to toxic parents and hurtful phrases regarding weight please don't read this. In general, this contains sensitive content and a few pieces of ED and harsh language, but our boy Geto telling us how much he loves us the way we are
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„You know you are totally able to eat more than that, right? We’ve been out without any food for hours now, you need to care for yourself, love.”
Suguru’s hand gently caresses your back while you stare at the salad you just ordered.
“You’re gonna look like a pig soon if you don’t stop eating like one, (y/n). Didn’t I teach you a lady needs to watch her diet?”
“No man wants a fat woman, trust me.”
“Thank you so much for looking out for me. I’m good”, you mutter after shaking their cruel words off your mind.
You can’t bring yourself to catch a glimpse at his comforting brown eyes, not when your guilty conscience almost eats you up alive. The stinging words of your mother and father haunt you until this day. Even though you left years ago and started your very own life away from their toxic household, even though your precious boyfriend Geto Suguru is the living proof for them being wrong.
Just one look at the salad in front of you paired with your memory is enough to feel like in your childhood all over again.
“Hey, look at me honey.”
Gently, his hand caresses your cheek and lifts your head into his direction. There they are, his oh so loving orbs, his tender smile that warms your stinging heart in an instant.
“We’ve been together for a year now and you still seem to be upset when you have to eat around me. I can’t help but wonder why you torture yourself. Is it because of me, did I give you the feeling you aren’t good the way you are? Because I love you with all my heart.”
You never allowed yourself to cry in front of someone else. To be exact, you stopped when you were greeted by nothing but harsh words from your parents with every tear that ran down your cheek. You are supposed to be a good and hostile woman, the perfect little wife for some wealthy man your parents already decided on when you were still 10. A woman that doesn’t speak as much as you do, a woman who doesn’t eat as much as you do. A feminine angel walking on earth with the only purpose to say yes and amen to her beloved husband.
When you were finally old enough to leave them behind, you packed your things and joined jujutsu high. Life is easier around here with so many beloved friends by your side who support and truly love you. Yes, they showed you how good you are, that you are independent and are allowed to have your own opinion, that it’s okay to say no. Yes, you even started to eat a little more and gained a healthy amount of weight and well-formed muscles.
They were wrong. Your parents were so wrong with everything they taught you. But this…
You bite your lip when a sub escapes from deep down your throat, hot tears now stinging in your eyes so violently that you can’t catch your breath. Eating has always been your weakness, the one and only thing you can’t fully control until this day. Their words still crush you every time you order something to eat.
What if Suguru doesn’t find you attractive when you gain even more weight?
What if he thinks it’s disgusting to see you eat like a pig?
What if he’ll fall out of love when you show him that you aren’t as perfect as a doll?
“I’m so sorry. The last thing I want is to see you cry”, he instantly speaks out, wrapping his much-needed arms around you so tightly that you sink into his broad chest.
“It’s just…I’m afraid to eat more…”, you finally blurt out.
A part of your heart flutters in relief when those words finally leave your mouth. For more than a year, you simply forced yourself through the aching of your stomach, the hunger that kept you awake when Suguru laid next to you fast asleep. All because of their cruel words. All because they made you believe your whole life you aren’t good enough if you eat “too much”.
“You don’t feel comfortable eating around me, don’t you?”
You simply nod against his chest, too ashamed to lift your head. How embarrassing to hear those words leaving his lips, that he already knows why you’re acting this way.
“May I ask why? Did I say or do something that makes you feel this way, love?”
Your head starts spinning. The sheer thought that he might think your strange behaviour is his fault, that he did something wrong is ridiculous in your eyes.
“Absolutely not. It’s…It’s…”
Why is it so damn hard to find the right words? You stutter like an idiot for what feels like ages while listening to Suguru’s steady heartbeat. He knows how rough your childhood was, that your parents treated you like the dirt underneath their feet. You were never good enough, never pretty enough, never smart enough. Until you became a well-known and rich jujutsu sorcerer with a charismatic man like Geto Suguru by your side.
“See? I told you you will find a wealthy man if you keep up with our education, daughter.”
“All because we taught you everything you know and kept you in shape!”
“No”, you replied immediately, straightening your shoulders while facing the people who made your life living hell for more than enough years.
“I did all of this by myself. Because I chose to be the person I am instead of the person you wanted me to be.”
“They always told me I’m too much, that eating in front of my man is strictly forbidden. I was supposed to be a thin and docile wife.”
Your voice is nothing but a far away whisper. All those nights your father scolded you when you weighted more than you did before. How your mother screamed at you when your curves start to develop through puberty, how disgusted they looked at you when you wore shorts or ate next to them. Deep within, you know how toxic your eating habits are despite the positive changes you’ve been through. But still…Just the thought of eating a cheeseburger in front of Suguru fills you with so much disgust that your guts turn immediately.
“You aren’t docile but strong and stubborn. You aren’t only thin but strong and athletic. Your body is capable of so much more than simply being thin, (y/n). You are perfect in every single way, your body allows you to fight so well that even Satoru admires your skills. You are so breathtakingly beautiful that I could stare at you all day…I am glad you didn’t follow their rules, that you didn’t turn into the good and docile wife they wanted you to be. Because you became so much more. Because you can do so much more. But for that, you need to fuel your body the way it deserves it even when I’m around. I love to see you eat, I love to see you happy and healthy. And I know how hard it can be to overcome things you were taught from a young age. Would you promise me something?”
Now you can’t help but lift up your head, staring at him through your wet lashes. His words, his oh so sweet words still linger through your mind and force your cheeks to turn bright pink. Is this really how Suguru feels about you, are you really enough for him just the way you are?
Why wouldn’t you? After all, he was the one choosing you.
“What?”, you mumble.
“Promise me that we will work this out. If you can’t bring yourself to open up to me, please consider checking up with Shoko or another professional. I admire you for all the things you’ve already did, that you were actually able to turn into a wonderful woman with that horrible family. I’d love to hang out with you while eating chips, I’d love to eat a whole lot of unhealthy junk food and sweets with you without you worrying about my thought. Because the only thing I care about is that you’re happy. And you being healthy and eating properly means happiness.”
That smile. That oh so bright smile that reaches his brown eyes and lifts up your mood immediately. Oh, you truly don’t deserve him. A new wave of fresh tears threatens to spill over your eyes and begins to take your sight.
But those aren’t tears of sorrow. No, those are tears of pure joy and love.
You throw yourself around his neck before he’s able to catch you properly, causing both of you to almost fall off his chair.
“I will”, you mutter against his ear.
“I promise I will work on it.”
“I’m more than glad to hear that”, he replies softly while caressing your hair.
“Would you like to order something else in addition to your salad, then?”
You let go of Suguru with a small smile, holding his hands tightly as your heart overflows with love. The man who showed you what you’re capable of, who supports you through anything. Sooner or later, you will be able to share food dates with him and enjoy them. But until then…
“I’m fine for today. But next time, I might order something else.”
“Fine. Just let me know when you’re ready, (y/n).”
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sugarlywhispers · 1 year
Text
Thinking about best friend, biker!Bakugou, who always goes for you to pick you up in his big ass bike; no matter where, no matter when, he's outside waiting for you sitting in his bike with his arms crossed over his chest, a permanent scowl on his face for whoever looks disapprovingly at him because of his bad boy appearance. Piercing in the right side of his bottom lip, piercings in his ears, black leather jacket, black ripped jeans. You need him to pick you up from work? He's there. You had to stay late doing extra hours? No matter what time it is, he's there waiting for you to take you home. You need to go buy ladies stuff to the farmacy? He's there ready to take you, and then bring you back. You woke up at 3 am and want a snack? He'll call you an annoying pain in his ass when you phone him, but he tells you he'll be there in ten minutes.
One day, he picks you up at work because you have talked about going to see the fireworks show that was going to take place due to some celebration. He takes you to a place closer to where the whole show will be, people already around waiting. You sit on the grass next to each other as you keep talking about the events of your day. He mmhs and ahhs and pffs and tsks to everything you say, smiling and frowning when it needs to.
The show is about to start, and he sees your discomfort. He knows that even though you love the colorful lights, you hate the sounds of explosion; he knows it's a small trigger for your anxiety, so he takes out he's special airpods that he uses when he's riding his bike for longer periods of time and the loud engine actually annoys the hell out of his ears and they cancel every sound from the outworld but the music in them. He doesn't say anything as he gives them to you and you smile thankful at him while putting them on.
The show finally starts, you don't hear anything but the chill song 'Apocalypse' by Cigarettes After Sex as the spectacular shining in the sky illuminates above you.
Bakugou, even half way through the show, can't take his eyes out of you. Your face enjoying it it's even brighter than the lights. Your smile it's the biggest he has ever seen, and he has known you since you dropped a weight next to him by accident at the gym three years ago–you became instant friends since then. He has seen you at your best and at your worst, and vice-versa. But he has never seen such… beauty in your whole demeanor before as he does in that moment. Content. Fascinated. Relaxed. Happy. And your eyes… he can practically see the show reflecting on them, and he thinks it looks much better that way.
That's when he realizes. How relaxed he also is next to you, how he enjoys much more your reactions than the show itself, how the pit of his stomach flutters when you suddenly wooow to a big bright explosion that almost whiteness the whole sky. He realizes how much he wants to hold your hand, to kiss your cheek for how cute you look at that moment. To actually kiss your lips to discover if your taste is as cute and sweet as you look right now. To hold you in his arms to protect you from the world, because it doesn't deserve a person like you walking on it. You're precious.
The show ends, and the shine still glows in your eyes when you look at him, smiling big as you give him back his airpods, talking how amazing the show was and how cool and pretty all the lights were. You're pretty.
And as he can't take his eyes out of you while you speak, he realizes then.
"I'm falling in love with you." He blurts, and he has never said anything as sure as that.
You immediately shut up, completely taken aback. "W-what?"
His vermillion eyes don't leave yours, and he repeats, "I'm falling in love with you. Hard."
You don't know what to say. He can see the surprise and confusion in your face, but if there is something Katsuki isn't, it is a man that backs aways from his own actions or words. But he understands that probably this is too much now, yet he needs you to know.
"I'm not saying this for you to do something about it. I just want you to know it. Because from now on, I'll be whatever you need me to be. A friend, a lover, your driver, your fucking servant if you need me to. But I won't back away from trying to make you like me back. It's on. I'll convince you to let me be yours and you be mine."
Your eyes fill with tears, emotional tears that don't mean something bad but either something good and you don't know what to say, what to answer. But you do realize something…
He's always there. And he will always be. The butterflies in your stomach wake up and start fluttering around.
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