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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 10 months

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Studious VI (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) 18+ FINALE

Five months after your reconciliation, you and Aemond have grown ever closer. When he returns from his first time away from you, you have a surprise ready for him.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (second person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: kissing, oral sex (M and F receiving), p in v sex, fluff

Author's Note: And with this, the series is complete! I want to thank you all so much for all the support y'all have given my silly little story. I truly cherish every reply, comment, or like it receives.

And fear not! This isn't the end of the journey for our lovely, stupid couple. On the 21st, I will be releasing another short fic as part of my 12 Days of Smuff event. If there will be anything more beyond that, it remains to be seen!

Read Part I Here - Read Part II Here - Read Part III Here - Read Part IV Here - Read Part V Here

My Masterlist

Taglist is in reblogs

Studious VI

It was the middle of the afternoon, and though the sun shone brightly in a cloudless sky, there was still a chill in the air. You had uncovered all the windows in the room, so it was quite cold within the stone walls. Therefore, you were curled up on a large, plush chair – Aemond’s reading chair – contentedly snuggled within your oversized robe.

And only the robe.

Vhagar’s mighty wingbeats had thundered above the keep not long ago. Thanks to the open windows, you’d heard it clearly – the chill was well worth it. A rush of excitement flowed through you, and you immediately traded your warm dress and stockings for the robe and took up your perch.

Aemond had been gone for four long, lonely, torturous days, and you were determined to be there the moment he walked through the door to his chambers.

It was the first time he’d left King’s Landing since your wedding five months ago and the first time the two of you had been apart for more than a few hours since your ‘reconciliation,’ as you had come to call it. Both of you argued passionately against it.

Neither of you could bear to be parted only two weeks after Grand Maester Orwyle confirmed that your nightly activities had resulted in the child now growing within you. Aemond wanted nothing more than to be by your side every moment until the babe was born. You weren’t opposed to it, though you did wonder about the practicality of such an arrangement.

But the Queen and the Hand insisted on Aemond going, rather than one of his siblings. The unfortunate result of his being the dutiful and trustworthy son, you supposed.

So, you had gone with him to the edge of the woods and watched as he mounted Vhagar and flew away. Of course, he had kissed you deeply before he left. Long enough for both Vhagar and the Dragonkeepers to begin subtly voicing their impatience. Had they not been there, you likely would have shared a more thorough goodbye.

Still, the four days felt like four years, four decades, four centuries. You would have gone mad if you hadn’t found something to do to fill the Aemond-shaped hole in your life. So you filled your time with planning how you would welcome him home.

You were sure he would be very pleasantly surprised.

Time passed quickly while you were held in suspense. The sound of soft, steady footsteps soon began echoing from the hall, and you just barely contained a squeal of delight. You readied yourself to leap, standing atop the chair to give you a better chance of actually landing on your target.

Then the door opened, and you pounced.

Thankfully, Aemond caught you easily. His strong, lithe arms wrapped around your hips and rear as if on instinct, and you were once more safe and secure.

You didn’t get to see his reaction to your leaping upon him, which you only regretted slightly as you pressed your lips hard against his

Aemond made a choked sound of surprise that soon faded into a low, passionate moan as he teased your lips open with his tongue to deepen the kiss. It still wasn’t your favourite sensation – a taste you had to acquire – but after days without it, it was almost enjoyable. Almost.

“I missed you so much, Aemond,” you whispered between kisses, strained and desperate as your fingers clawed at him, seeking to touch every inch of him. Every inch you had missed.

Aemond’s brow furrowed, but he did not stop kissing you. “I was only away four days, my love. Could you miss me so much in so short a time?”

You pulled back just enough to look into his eye as you touched the tip of your nose to his, widening your eyes and making a show of pouting. “Did you not miss me as well?”

He gave you the slightest glimpse of his startled fish face before kissing you again. “No… I longed for you every minute we were parted. It took all my strength to resist the temptation of forgoing my duty and returning to you. I missed you so much I ached.”

“Show me,” you commanded, smiling against his lips as you watched the realisation that you had never doubted his missing you dawn on his face with an affectionate, put-upon smile.

You squealed as he pulled you closer to his chest – you had not thought such a thing possible – and brought the hand that had circled your waist to cup your neck as he began kissing you again. Fiercely. Passionately. Lovingly.

The rooms were a blur as he began to blindly carry you into the bedroom, depositing you squarely in the middle of the bed. You were granted only a moment to catch your breath before he was on you again, his welcome weight pressing down on you as his heat continued to soak into your bones.

“If you were wearing anything else,” Aemond growled as his hands started furiously fumbling with the tie of your robe, “I would tear it to pieces.”

You bit down on his bottom lip, ever so slightly harder than you normally did to scold him. It did not work. It only prompted him to kiss you deeper.

“Were you ever to tear even a single thread of this robe,” you panted. “I would return to my father’s keep and never speak to you again.”

“Then I will be very careful, and…” Aemond trailed off when he opened your robe and realised you were bare beneath it.

His eye raked over you slowly, studying you as if you were a master artwork. His chest heaving, he slowly traced his hand from the base of your throat down to your navel, and when you shivered at the sensation, he shivered too.

He splayed his hand over your still-flat stomach, his eye sparkling as if he could see the babe within. “How is it possible that you become more beautiful every day?”

You laughed, reaching up to cradle his cheek in your hand. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Aemond. And I dare say that your eye is quite biased towards me.”

“No,” he whispered, shaking his head ever so slightly. “Your beauty is utterly indisputable. Any who behold you and do not see it must be truly blind.”

You could not suppress the smile that came over you, wide and unyielding. “I will remind you of those words when I have grown as large as a bear and have the temper of a taunted goose.”

Aemond chuckled lowly, moving his mouth along your jaw and onto your neck. “Then I will say them again, for nothing could alter how I feel about you, my love.”

Any smart reply you had was quickly forgotten as his mouth followed the path his hand had just taken. Your only complaint was that his mouth was far slower. He would press a kiss or two against your skin, then momentarily lose his grip on whatever restraint he had. Then, he latched on, laving his tongue upon you as if he wished to devour you. Sometimes, he even lightly nipped you with his teeth, but he never failed to soothe the pain with more gentle kisses.

You could have happily let him continue for hours. But you had made plans, and you were going to follow through. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him close enough for you to whisper against his cheek. “Jiōrna mazumbilloti, ābrazȳrys.”

Your use of the Valyrian mother tongue surprised him, breaking him immediately from his lustful haze. He sat up and leaned over to kiss your cheek swiftly enough that you could only catch a glimpse of a mischievous smile.

“So close, but…” he apologetically kissed your nose. “You are ābrazȳrys. I am valzȳrys.” He pressed his finger on your skin just above your heart. “Ābrazȳrys – wife.” He moved the finger to his chest. “Valzȳrys – husband.”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up and fuck me, valzȳrys.”

He obliged, his mouth continuing its path down your front after a brief return to your breasts. The closer he came to your center, the louder your moans and pleas became.

He pulled away slightly when he finally reached your dripping cunt, chuckling slightly. “Oh, how I’ve missed this beautiful thing,” he mused.

You spread your legs as much as you could in a show of impatience. “Well, then you should do something about that, shouldn’t you?”

“I suppose.”

A desperate gasp escaped you as you felt him gently blow a cold breath onto your heated core. Your back arched as he did it again, tracing a line of cool air up and down your folds.

“Aemond,” you breathlessly begged, “I’ve already waited so long. Please, don’t tease me like this!”

You watched as he looked back up at you with a wicked grin. “I’ve waited just as long, my dear. I want to savour this. Make up for lost time.”

“Fine,” you grumbled, though you could not deny his plan sounded quite pleasant. “Savour me, then.”

He did.

Aemond’s mouth was thorough. In the five months since he’d first pleasure you like this, he’d become as skilled and precise with his tongue as he was with his sword.

His tongue found your pearl almost instantly and began teasing it ever so slowly, as if it were a game for him. He alternated between pressing on it, drawing circles and various shapes upon it, and sucking on it like a candied lemon.

He did not stop until he’d pulled two releases from you. Only then did he finally acknowledge your entrance beyond merely pressing against it with his chin while he focused elsewhere.

Had he not been so eager to lap up every bit of wetness from you, you were sure the bed linens would have been ruined for how much slick spilt from you. But he was voracious in devouring you – moaning and gasping nearly as much as you were. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he came simply from being buried in your thighs. He’d done it before, after all.

Your hands found their way into his hair as his tongue delved inside of you, his wonderful, glorious nose still giving your pearl the attention it craved. Holding onto him was the only way you could withstand the intensity of what he was doing to you, to keep it from overwhelming you.

It also helped that when you tugged on his hair or slightly dug your nails into his scalp, he groaned in pleasure, sending delicious vibrations through you as his hips bucked into the bed. And when your release barreled through you, and you pulled on his hair like it was the reins of a dragon, he nearly screamed against your cunt.

Aemond gazed up at you, his face glistening and flushed. “My sweet ābrazȳrys,” he hummed before ducking his head back between your thighs again.

“Ah, ah ah!” You scolded, using the hands you had in his hair to drag him back to your face, causing another satisfied moan to escape him. “By my count, I’m at three, while you’ve yet to have even one. Unless…?”

A glance at the front of his trousers confirmed that he had not come simply from pleasuring you, and you sighed dramatically. “Still at none, then.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Aemond placed shortcut soft kisses all over your face before retracing his path downwards. “Let me give you more.”

You yanked him up again, kissing him fiercely. “No. My turn.”

He rose onto his knees as you pushed on his chest, his eye never once leaving yours. You smirked as you sat up with him, your legs still between his.

“I’ll rid us of these,” you said as you began unlacing his trousers – fortunately, he’d removed the belts for his sword and dagger before he’d even come to his rooms. You nodded to his doublet. “If you get rid of that.”

You had still yet to master the ridiculous clasps and buckles on the damnable thing. And Aemond resisted all your efforts to have a new, less complicated garment made for him.

At least he did not tease you about it this time and began to remove it swiftly.

Still, you accomplished your task before he did his, and he fumbled slightly as he threw the rest of his clothes on the floor as you grasped his red, weeping length in your hand and began returning his affections.

“Oh gods,” he groaned, forgetting his doublet entirely. “Oh, dōnus riñus… sȳros. Sȳros!”

His hands flew to your head. He didn’t pull at your hair or dig his fingers in. Aemond never did; he was always gentle. He simply cupped the back of your head with one hand while the other held your cheek, stroking you with his thumb in time with your ministrations.

He had been right when he said that learning to please a man was substantially easier than learning to please a woman. There were some things you had to remind yourself of the first few times you’d done this – don’t squeeze too hard, don’t take him too deep, and never use your teeth.

But you’d had plenty of practice and knew precisely what Aemond liked.

You knew how much he liked it when you used the tip of your tongue to trace his slit before swirling it around the head of his cock.

You knew the way he liked you to play with his stones – caressing them lightly with just your fingertips, and every so often giving them the gentlest of tugs.

You knew exactly how to pace yourself in a way that drove him wild without speeding him towards an early end.

He begged. Several times, he begged you to go faster, to let him finish. But after he’d told you what he meant by “practice” in his diary, you knew he could take it. Knew he enjoyed it.

“Please,” he said breathlessly. You looked up to find tears streaming down from the corners of his eyes.

For a moment, you slowed, worrying that you’d pushed him too far, until he pulled you back down onto him so far your nose nuzzled into the silvery hair at his base.

Your hands went to his hips, bracing yourself while he pulled you forward and back. Always gently, but with more speed than you’d allowed him thus far.

It was the first time he’d ever taken charge in this particular scenario. He was always dominant in all other intimate moments, but never with this. Whenever you held him in your mouth, you commanded the prince.

The thrill of it sparked a burning heat of desire in your core, and you moaned around him.

It was enough.

Aemond pulled you as close as he could until your brow rested against his stomach, and he reached his peak. His entire body shook as he spilled himself down your throat. And he did not release you until he heard you struggling to keep him so deep.

“Oh, my darling, did I hurt you?” he asked as he again laid himself atop you.

You laughed, kissing him deeply. “No, Aemond. Well, maybe a little bit, but it’s a good hurt.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“Don’t be, please. It was less of a hurt than you being gone.”

Aemond rolled onto his side to kiss you once more, languidly, now that the initial rush of lust had faded. You could almost feel his adoration as if it were a tangible thing. You held it tightly, and would never let it go. When he finally pulled away, his lips only left yours for a moment before he was again trailing his mouth along your neck to your chest.

“Well?” You asked. “Do you like your surprise?”

“It was wonderful, my love. Would it be indelicate of me to ask for more?”

You narrowed your eyes, tugging on his hair just enough to draw his attention away from your breasts and back to you. The moment he saw the confusion on his face, it was reflected in his own.

“This was not the surprise, Aemond.”

“Then what is?”

You smiled, looking dramatically over the bedchamber. Aemond only stared at you, waiting for you to speak, until you were forced to seize his chin and turn his head.

Then, he finally saw.

As his eye roved across the walls and shelves, he rose until he was kneeling in the center of the bed. You laid back against your pillow, watching him admire what you had spent the last four days doing.

The bare walls were no more. Now, they were filled with paintings, tapestries, and even a few little sculptures. By the bookshelves – which you had filled with as many trinkets as possible – you’d hung paintings depicting some of your favourite stories from fiction and history. A wrought-iron dragon flew across the space above the doorway. On another wall, a tapestry depicting your home keep surrounded by a field of dog roses hung proudly. And above the head of the bed, a new tapestry you had made in secret these past few months.

“Vhagar,” Aemond whispered when he saw it.

You let out a sigh of relief – you had not been sure whether he would recognise her. After all, the only time you saw the dragon was when Aemond took you to visit her. Making sketches on those few occasions would have swiftly given away your secret. Fortunately, Helaena was more than happy to help you in its creation.

Aemond moved closer to admire the tapestry, one leg falling off the bed. He started, looking down to find his foot had landed atop a plush blue rug. When he looked up to gape at you, his eye caught on the bursting of colour atop the armoire.

His plain stoneware and metal vases had been joined by others more intricate and brightly coloured. All of them were now filled with a vibrant bouquet. The one you’d painted yourself when you were young and thought yourself the next great painter was filled with bright pink dog roses, much to his delight.

“You decorated,” he said in awe as he faced you again. While he’d been surveying the room, you’d sat up, holding onto his arm and resting your head on his shoulder.

“No…” you teased, savouring that quick moment of his confusion before continuing, “I moved in.”

His face crumpled with an affection so strong you hardly knew how he contained it all.

Except you did know.

You did it, too.

“My dearest,” he sighed, “I – ”

“I love you, Aemond.”

The colour drained from his face, and you swore his breathing halted.

A roiling storm of emotions passed over his face. Unbridled joy, sweetest relief, depthless love, and a single moment of fear beneath it all. He’d told you only to say those words when you truly meant it with all your heart. His worry that you didn’t was clear.

You held his face in your hands and pulled him forward until his brow rested against yours. “I love you, Prince Aemond Targaryen. Not only with my whole heart, but with all that I am.”

A tear fell from his eye, and a soft whimper escaped his lips. “Oh my love,” he murmured like a prayer, “my love…”

Then he was upon you again. His mouth against yours, his comforting heat warming you. He wrapped his arms around you – one on your waist, one at your shoulder – and pulled you against him so tightly there was nowhere you were not touching.

“I love you, Aemond,” you repeated every time your lips parted from his. Each time, he nearly sobbed at the words.

You kissed for a long while, until you at last felt him hardening against you. For only a moment, he pulled away, his eyes still damp as he looked down at you.

“May I?”

Your only response was a smile and another kiss.

Aemond entered you in one long, gentle thrust.

That moment of stillness and adjustment was no longer strictly necessary, but you both still enjoyed it.

Just a moment to look at each other. To see the joy and now, the love within them. A moment to revel in the connection you shared and bask in the feeling of being whole with each other. Aemond kissed you again before he started thrusting into you. Both were gentle and slow, allowing you to cherish each other. You were not fucking to find release, but to simply be together.

There were times when Aemond was completely still as he ravished you with his mouth or hands rather than his cock. There were times when he rutted into you like a beast, only stopping so he could prolong the connection. And there were times when both of you were still, just embracing each other, breathing together, and knowing that you were loved.

Eventually, you could hold off your instincts no longer. You squirmed against Aemond to seek more pleasure – more of him. And he happily obliged. He braced one hand on your hip as he began to move. Faster and faster. With smooth, practised thrusts.

He was so familiar with your body that it did not take long for him to have you gasping as you approached your peak. He was already brushing against that wonderful spot inside you with every movement of his hips, and when he brought a finger to gently tease your pearl, you could not hold back.

Nor could Aemond. He buried himself in you entirely, his face falling into the crook of your shoulder as he moaned your name, along with several High Valyrian words you did not know.

You lifted his head to bring his lips to yours and kissed him until his breath steadied again.

“No,” you whined as he moved to sit up and pull his softened cock out of you. “Stay. Please.”

Aemond smiled as he understood your meaning, again pressing his hips against yours to keep himself inside you as he rolled you onto your sides. “If I could stay forever, I would.”

“I know.” You nuzzled into his neck. “In fact, I’d quite like it if you did.”

“Then so I shall.”

A long, peaceful silence passed between you. Your flushes faded, your breathing calmed, and the evening air began to blow through the windows and cool your hot skin.

The day was not yet over. There was still dinner to attend, and Aemond likely needed to meet with the Small Council to discuss his trip. Yet neither of you moved. You simply laid there, basking in the bliss of holding the person you love.

You loved him. You loved Aemond so much.

He’d said it so often to you in the past five months. You had a lot of catching up to do.

“I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you,” he replied.

“I love you.”

“I love you…”

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sturniolosslut · 8 days

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“No Strings Attached, it’s Casual”- Chris Sturniolo

pairing ⤑ jealous!chris x reader

authors note ⤑ second time writing!! the last one kind of failed, so i’ve been working on this for a lil while, love you.

you - pink

chris - orange

warnings ⤑ lil bit of angst, fluff, suggestive content

summary ⤑ you and chris have been pretty close friends for years. you guys were hanging out one day and you both were horny. as fuck. one thing led to another and now you guys are in a friends with benefits situation. except it’s not. ever since the first time you guys met 4 years ago, chris has been hopelessly inlove with you. he thought that hooking up with you would make him lose interest… but it did the opposite

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

✰ YOUR POV ✰

you thought that hooking up with the guy you’ve been in love with (your best friend) for 4 years was a good idea, make you lose feelings maybe. but no, not at all. your at a party with matt, nick and chris, hanging out with them. you wanted so desperately to get over chris so you start talking to a guy at the bar. his name was jake… john… or was it jayden? anyway, you started making out with the guy and you felt a pair of eyes on you, you turn around and see chris staring at you angrily from the pool table.

you grin and continue kissing the guy, chris marches over, grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the guy, not enough to hurt you though

“we need to talk. now y/n!”

“i’m busy… can’t you see?”

he grabs your wrist and pulls you away into the bathroom of the party, you protesting and arguing as he pulls you. he slams the door behind you both.

“what do you think your doing?! your mine.”

“im just having fun!”

you spit at him, making him take a deep breath of anger. seeing you with another guy just made him see fucking red. he steps forward to you, looking down at you.

“i thought that hooking up with you would be a good idea, to get over you. but im in love with you y/n! i’ve been so head over fucking heels in love with you and seeing you kiss that guy made me so angry and jealous! your supposed to be mine!”

you scoff at him, completely missing the part where he said he’s in love with you, he always talked to other girls and kissed other girls, but you can’t kiss other guys? pathetic!

“really? im supposed to be yours? i thought you said “no strings attached” and “it’s casual””

he puts his head in his hands, groaning and taking deep breaths.

“y/n did you not hear me?! IM. IN. LOVE. WITH. YOU!”

you freeze, looking at him with wide eyes

“i thought you said no attachments…. you said it was something casual. using each other to get off?”

“well i didn’t mean it. ive been in love with you since i met you! your smile, your personality, your face, your eyes, your lips, i-…. your just somebody that everyone loves, including me. i love you y/n. i know you only see this as i friends with benefits type of situation but that’s not how i feel! i fuc-“

you cut him off, grabbing the collar of his pink hoodie and smashing your glossed lips with his. this is the first time you’ve kissed him for real. obviously during sex, he’d kiss you but you’ve never kissed like this. it was warm and passionate, it had a meaning behind it.

after a few moments, you both pull away slowly

“i feel the same chris, i thought that hooking up with you would be fine, but it only heightened my desire to be yours…”

“i love you y/n. i’ve never felt like this for anybody before. your my girl, i always want to be around you, clinging to you like a fuckin’ child”

you smile at him with love and admiration in your eyes, before speaking in a soft and gentle tone

“i love you too, christopher”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

i hate it😭😭

#Spotify #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #fluff #sturniolo smut #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolosslut

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tiredmamaissy · 2 years

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Moment of Truth

Neteyam’s First Rut: Chapter VII

Read Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV, Chapter V & Chapter VI

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Characters: Neteyam Sully (21) x Avatar Reader (21)

Warnings: nsfw, ANGSTANGSTANGST, pregnancy, blood, reader cries way too much, a sliver of smut (in comparison), make up/pregnant sex creampie, oral sex (f receiving)

Word Count: 8.5k [I have no excuse]

Requested: Yes || No || Kinda

Author’s Note: why am I so dramatic lol. the amount of angst in this is sickening, but it’s okay there’s a happy ending, I promise.

Synopsis: You’ve been keeping a big secret from your mate, Neteyam. It’s time to come clean, but when finally you decide to... something happens.

Previously:

“Ma’ yawne. You had me worried. Ta’sun is in good hands, okay? Let us go home.” he reassures you, not even considering how being away for long would make you feel. He rubs your back whilst coming out the water. “How do you feel... otherwise?” he asks, a sliver of relief in his voice.

“I’m okay. I just want to go home, please.” you mumble, already feeling the guilt of lying about something so big.

The ride home is quiet. You cling to your mate, running an array of scenarios through your head. Scenarios of you sitting him down, and telling him the truth. Only for him to respond to you with a cold shoulder, or worse – anger and disappointment. You can already hear it:

“y/n, how could you be so careless? If you knew, why did you not say anything? I asked you, multiple times!”

Because the truth is, you knew. You knew from the moment you sat in between his legs on Seze, feeling the influence of his pheromones. You knew, deep down, that your heat was creeping up on you, yet you still reassured him that you wanted this – wanted him. You knew that when you did accept the truth, that it was too late.

Your eyes remain shut, tears still silently running down your cheeks, hurting from words he never spoke.

“Shh... my love. We are almost there. Ta’sun is going to be so excited to see his sa’nu [mummy], that he will not even look his sempu [daddy].” he chuckles, a warm hand holding you close to him.

His words only make you bawl more, dimples forming in your chin as it quivers. The thought of your baby jumping about excited to see you makes your heart sink even more, because you know you could have another budding in your womb, excited to meet you too.

----

Three weeks have passed since Neteyam’s rut. Each day felt torturous, carrying the burden of such a heavy secret in your heart. There were countless moments where you yearned to sit down and tell him the truth – to tell him you may be pregnant. But there were also moments where you tried, where it came out more as a light-hearted joke, rather than a confession. The moments where he made it clear that it not something he wanted.

“You look like you want a baby tsmukan [brother] or tsmuke [sister] to protect, ma’ Ta’sun. Look at you getting so big.” you coo, watching your son crawl to you.

Neteyam chuckles behind you, watching his son try his best to make quick strides back to his sa’nu. “None, right ma’ Ta’sun? You are still a baby yourself, too young and sweet to have that responsibility.” Neteyam speaks from his own experience, being the bigger brother – the protector, all his life.

Just like that, a few more stones in your heart.

It hurt you. To know the father of your child wouldn’t be excited to hear he was having another. It only made you retreat even further into your shell, denying yourself your own excitement of possibly having another Ta’sun in your womb. You tried your best to turn a blind eye to your blatant symptoms, that you began to experience in only a week.

Just the sight of steamed bladder polyps made you gag, and if the smell ever wafts past your nose, you’d to run out of the tent to heave into the shrubs. The craving for Yovo fruit has come back ten-fold, now being the only thing that you can keep down. There was a new heaviness in your womb, much like the heaviness in your heart. A heaviness that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t deny.

Your breasts became tender and sore. Each time he latched white-hot pain seared through your breast, making you jolt in your skin. You endured it regardless; you’d do anything for your son. But Ta’sun weaned overnight, out the blue – another thing that kept you from sleeping soundly.

“Teyam, he keeps biting me.” you cry, frustrated and worn out. “It hurts, I-I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what is happening.” you lie once more, already knowing it’s because your milk doesn’t taste the same due to the new hormones in your body.

“Ah, my love.” he rests his hands on your shoulders, only for you to shrug him away. “It is alright. It is time now that he weans.” he tries to reassure you, stepping back to give you the space you want.

“You are not listening to me... I wish you listened to me.” you hiccup, talking about something completely different.

His brows pinch together, pity plastered on his face. “Oh, ma’ yawne. I know you are frustrated.” a hand hovers over your shoulder for a split second, “I am sorry.” he apologizes, retreating his hand, feeling like he could be a better mate – a better father.

You felt terrible. You knew your attitude hurt Neteyam, lashing out on him when you were upset.

Neteyam could tell something was off about you, but he chalked it up to something that happened that day – something that he did wrong. There was unspoken, unpleasant tension between the two of you. You remained in your shell, trying to hide all the symptoms of the budding babe in your womb. But it only came off as detachment. He tried to make it up to you daily with numerous gestures of love, all of which you brushed off because of the guilt bubbling deep in your chest. You felt that you didn’t deserve his love, keeping a lie this big from him – and he felt that he deserved your cold, distant treatment.

“Ma’ txe’lan [heart]. I made your favourite. Are you hungry?” he smiled wide, bringing you a bowl of steamed bladder polyps with Ta’sun strapped to his chest.

Your face screwed, stomach turning at the smell wafting past your nose. Eyes slamming shut, you exhale harshly, trying to get the smell out your system. A fire sets in your lungs as they beg for air. You shake your head, and run outside, leaving him there alone – his smile drooping into a frown.

He waited patiently for you to come around, giving you as much time as you needed. At times, he confided in his mother, wishing to get clarity – to gain some sort of understanding. He thought, perhaps it was something deeper, something that women experience after having a baby. There would be moments where he would try to talk to you, or just cherish you in his arms. The moments where he would lightly tug at your queue, silently asking to feel connected with you.

Neteyam presses his body against yours, yearning for his mates’ soft, soothing touch. He misses you, yet you’re lying right in front of him. Not wanting to pressure you into anything, he never took it father that just this. But tonight, his heart weighs extra heavy, despite it being empty.

“Y/n.” he whispers, lips brushing against your neck. “I miss you.” his voice cracks, riddled with anguish.

The words are like a dagger to your heart, piercing it enough for the stones to tumble out. You miss him, too. Yet you lay there as silent as a yerik [hexapede], putting on yet another sleeping façade. Desperate fingertips brush the length of your queue. He knows that you’re awake, he could hear your thumping heart.

“I love you, y/n.” he whispers once more, knowing you’re listening. “I see you. For life.” his way of telling you that he’ll wait for however long you need him to.

You cry, and cry, and cry, scooting back into his arms as you tugged your queue from his fingertips, holding it tight to your bosom. “I love you.” you spit the words, breath hitching from your sobs.

You couldn’t believe yourself, being such a hypocrite. You were so upset with Neteyam when he lied to you about going on the hunting trip with his father so he could just spend his rut alone. A lie that was for your benefit.

It all became unbearable. Your symptoms became unbearable – indubitable. It was eating you alive, you had to know for sure... to come clean. But you didn’t know how. To simply say “I think I am pregnant” seemed too easy – too simple. How could you say such a thing after weeks of mistreatment? After weeks of being a horrid mate? You needed advice. Who better to give that to you than your best friend?

Kiri.

----

“Neteyam. Kiri wanted to talk to me. Sounds important. You okay with Ta’sun for a while?” the lie slips off your tongue too easily.

“Of course, ma’ yawne. Don’t you want to eat before you go? You have not eaten all day.” he smiles slightly, glancing at the bladder polyps.

“Uh – no. But thank you, Nete. I’m gonna get going before the eclipse starts, okay?” you say, backing out of the tent. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Oh, okay. I love-” his voice strains, quickening to catch you before you... slip out the door. “...you.” he finishes his sentence, a sinking feeling in his chest makes his ears lay flat. He looks down at his son, perched in his lap.

“What did sempu [daddy] do wrong?” he croaks, tucking Ta’sun’s growing hair behind his ears. Ta’sun babbles at his father in return, staring up at him with a wide-eyed goggle and a gummy smile.

----

Too deep in thought, you were already at Kiri’s tent, standing at her door focused on your feet. The emotional overload is overwhelming. You were... everything, all at once. Angry. Sad. Disappointed. Anxious... In denial – heavy denial. Kiri being his sister didn’t make it any better. How would you tell her? How could you tell her? You’d been mistreating her brother for weeks. Surely, she wouldn’t be happy to hear that, even if you’re her best friend – her sister. Body going into fight or flight, you turn around, ready to flee.

“Y/n?” Kiri’s hushed voice makes to spin around, surprised. “Why are you here?” a look of puzzlement on her face, she peeks behind you, looking for Neteyam and Ta’sun before focusing back on you. Her expression softens, taking in the sight of her sister’s puffy eyes, and tear-stained cheeks. “...what happened? Come.” she asks through a gasp, dragging you in her tent.

She sits you next to her on her cot, waiting patiently for you to speak on your own. All you can do is bury your face into your hands and cry silent tears. Snaking her arm around your shoulder, she pulls you in, swaying you both side to side.

“Tsmuke [sister].” her tongue clicks, “tell me what’s the matter, hm?” she hums, rubbing your arm.

Breath skipping uncontrollably, you try to tell her what happened, only for it to come out as gibberish. All except for the words “you’re going to be mad at me.”

“Y/n. Take a breath. You’re okay. You’re safe. I won’t be upset with you, okay?” she calms you, holding you in front of her firmly by the arms. “Okay?” she repeats slowly.

You nod quickly, wiping away your tears. “I think that I am pregnant.”

Kiri searches your eyes, a look of puzzlement washing over her once more. “I don’t understand. Isn’t this a good thing? A blessing, yes? And why would I be upset with you about that?”

“B-because. I-I have been hiding it from Neteyam. I’ve been a horrid mate. I didn’t know my heat would come. I’ve been so cold and distant from him. And – and he doesn’t understand why! I try my best to hide my symptoms, but I just end up avoiding him. Lashing out on h-him. He – he thinks it’s his fault. That he did something wrong. I want to tell him, but... I don’t know how.” you blubber on and on, eventually looking up at Kiri’s even more puzzled face. “He’s going to be upset with me, Kiri.” you voice hushes down into a hoarse whisper, bottom lip trembling.

“Y/n.” she huffs out as a sigh. “Why would he be upset? Was he upset when you found out about Ta’sun? No. He loves being a father. Why would he be... upset?” she repeats her question, grimacing at the word. She knows her brother puts his mate and child over anything – anyone.

“He said it himself. H-he thanked Eywa... that he didn’t get me pregnant. He thinks it’s too soon – too soon for Ta’sun to have a younger sibling. He’s been like this since we first mated, Kiri. He told me once that I was lucky I didn’t get pregnant on my first heat. I just, I know he will be upset with-” your blubber is cut short by Kiri holding your face.

“Tell. Him.” she states firmly, pursing her lips slightly. She pulls you in, wrapping her arms around you. “Tell him, y/n. Trust me.” she hums, tightening her warm embrace. “And we need to go see grandmother. Today. Like, now.” she pulls back, raising her brows as she looks at you, as if to say ‘got it?’.

You try to smile, biting your bottom lip. Hearing Kiri’s comforting words and feeling her soothing touch lightened the weight in your heart. But it’s quickly filled with something else, something that quickened the thud of your heart. Fear.

Kiri picked up on it straight away, a gift from Eywa if you will. “Do not fret. It will be okay, no matter what she says. I am here for you. Everyone is here for you.” she says her words slowly, drilling them in your head.

Will Neteyam be here for me? You ponder.

----

“You are with child.” Mo’at grins, placing her wooden pick back into its casing. She kneels behind you, humming as she presses her palm firmly against your back. “seykxel sì nitram [congratulations], a girl child.” her grin grows wider, “Ta’sun will have tsmuke [sister].”

A baby girl.

For the first in three weeks, you feel nothing but happiness. It’s like a moment of silence in all the noise, all the buzz that’s been ringing non-stop in your head. All the voices finally hush, leaving your heart warm, and light. A moment of euphoria.

A moment.

A silent gasp parts Mo’at’s lips. Eyes rolling back into her head, she mutters under her breath – something you can’t quite make out. “Grandmother?” Kiri squeaks quietly, afraid to disturb the elder in trance. Mo’at’s grin falls quickly.

“Kiri?” you reach your hand out to find her. She holds your hand, giving it a quick squeeze, reminding you of her words ‘It will be okay, no matter what she says.’

“My child. Your distress has affected your unborn. You must rest. Go. Tell your mate.” she states, slowly backing away from you.

A moment.

Waves of anxiety and guilt crash into you so hard they wind you, leaving you breathless. Not only had you been a terrible mate, but a terrible mother, ignoring your unborn – denying her existence. The heaviness of your heart returns, ten-fold, leaving no space for the happiness that was just there.

It didn’t feel real.

Is there really a baby in here? You rest a gentle hand on your abdomen.

Kiri embraces you once more, snapping you out of your daze. “Tell him, y/n. Tell him now.”

“Okay.” you mutter, getting up to walk out the healer’s tent. Kiri walks next to you, linking her arm with yours. “I got it, Kiri. Thank you.” you say monotonously, trying to feel nothing for the sake of your... baby.

“Are you sure?” she asks, slowly unlinking her arm from yours.

“Yeah. I’m sure. I’m going to take my time anyways... to think some more.” your words are flat, lifeless – much like how you feel.

“Alright, y/n. The eclipse is starting, so don’t take too long. Okay?” she hesitates, reluctant to leave you alone.

“Yeah. Okay.” you say, keeping your eyes on your feet.

“Everything will be alright. Get plenty of rest.” she tries to comfort you, only to be met with your blank stare.

Parting ways, you begin the trek home. It wasn’t too far, unfortunately. You really wanted some more time to think about what you were going to say and how you were going to say it. Not only did you have to tell him that you are pregnant, but that your stress and dishonesty have been affecting the baby, too. At this point, you don’t know howhe’ll react.

How could you even say this? ‘Neteyam. I’m pregnant. A baby girl, but she’s at risk because of my careless actions’ or, how about ‘I was a piece of shit mate to you for three weeks and have been hiding my pregnancy – denying the existence of our unborn daughter, who is suffering because of it.’

Nothing you came up with was good enough. Nothing sounded right. The more you thought about it, the more it registered how badly you fucked up. Your eyes remain locked on your feet, watching each toe grip the flora beneath you, step after step. You watch as the freckles on your skin glow as the eclipse occurs. You didn’t even realize that you’d been walking aimlessly this entire time. So deep in thought, you veered off the path to your tent.

Finally looking up into the darkness, you see the bioluminescence of the panoprya, anemonids and kentens [flying fan lizard] light up the forest. “Shit.” you mutter, becoming aware of the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Doing a quick 360, it dawns on you.

You’re lost.

“Shit. Shit. How far out am I? I don’t even know where I am.” you think out loud. Without giving it a second thought, you pick a direction and walk. Unbeknownst to you, you were just venturing deeper into the forest. The sounds of the fauna frightened you, keeping you on edge, only making you walk faster, and faster. Before you know it, you’re racing towards a finish line that didn’t exist.

Winded, you stop to catch your breath, leaning against a thick tree trunk. In the distance, you spot a heavily damaged link shack. You had heard of it before, Jake told the story about his final battle with Quaritch at family dinner. But you had never seen it in person. The sight makes you dizzy. Heart thumping violently between your ribs, you press the button on your throat microphone with a shaky hand.

“Ma’ tìyawn [love].” you sniffle.

----

With the eclipse occurring, Neteyam only becomes more and more worried about you. “Ta’sun, where is your sa’nu [mummy]?” he coos quietly, looking down at his sleeping babe in his arms. “I think we should go check on her. What do you think?” he whispers.

With Ta’sun strapped tightly to his chest, he gears up with his bow and arrows and makes the quick journey to Kiri’s tent.

“Kiri!” he whispers with a harsh voice, babe still sleeping nuzzled into his chest. With no response, he calls out again. “Kiri! Y/n!”.

Silence.

Bursting through the door, Neteyam sees Kiri sound asleep. Furrowed brows raise, beaded eyes widen, pursed lips part – a shocked expression contorts his face. His legs take a second to long to respond to his commands to move. But when they do, he bolts towards Kiri, shaking her awake. Practically jumping out of her own skin, she stands in front of her brother, groggy and confused.

“Kiri. Kiri. Where is y/n? She told me she was coming here, to talk to you. Where is she?” he asks frantically, grip tightening on his sister’s upper arm.

“She – she went home! We went to see Mo’at and then she went home. Didn’t she tell you?” Kiri hand snaps to her forehead as she stares blearily at her brother.

Ta’sun stirs against his father’s chest. Neteyam bounces reflexively, hushing his voice to a harsh whisper. “No! Tell me what? Why did you go to see Mo’at? Where is y/n?”

A crackle of static comes through Neteyam’s earpiece.

“Ma’ tìyawn [love].” you sniffle.

Neteyam’s heart skips a beat. He hasn’t heard you call him that in weeks. It sounds as if you’re crying, voice hushed, yet harsh. He could hear the whooping and cackling of nocturnal creatures in the background and your heavy breaths.

“Ma’ yawne... Where are you?” he chokes out, unwrapping the prrsmung [carrier] from his chest, signalling with his eyes that Kiri take the baby.

“If I tell you, you’re going to be mad, my ‘teyam.” you murmur.

Kiri takes the baby gently, so not to wake him. Neteyam fixes his bow to his chest, hurrying out of Kiri’s tent. “I won’t be mad. Just tell me, love.” he tries not to sound panicked, as he makes his way towards the forest.

“I – I don’t know.” you squeak, fear evident in your voice. “I think I’m at the old shack... the forbidden one.”

Oh, shit.

“Okay. Okay. Stay there. Do not move, understand? It is forbidden for a reason. I am coming now, just – please.” his own fear shook his voice, too.

“O-okay, my Nete. I... need to tell you s-something.” your breath hitches.

“Tell me when I get there, okay? I’m coming now. Just stay there.” he hums, trying to calm you down. By the way you were speaking it sounded as if you were trying to mutter your last words to him, and that terrified him.

“No, i-it can’t wait. It’s important. I don’t even know how to stay it, Nete. I’m just so sorry. I really am. I love you, so much. And I miss you. I miss Ta’sun.” you blabber, tears freely flowing down your cheeks.

“Y/n. Please. You are scaring me now. What is going on?” his voice bounces as he weaves through the panoprya and jutting tree branches. He has not heard you speak like this in weeks.

“I need to tell you... the truth. All of it. I’m pr – ” a sudden gasp, then static.

“Y/n? Y/n?” he repeats, thuds becoming louder as his heels strike the ground harder – faster. “y/n?!”

---- [repetition of words incoming]

The eclipse is in full bloom, only the bioluminescence around you can be seen – leaving you with few senses to rely on. Ethereal sounds of the forest echo in your ears, the scaly bark of the tree scrapes the skin on your back, wafting the scent of your own blood by your nose. A terrible feeling wrings your gut, making you queasy. Or perhaps that was the budding babe in your womb. It’s an eerie feeling – right dead in the pit of your stomach. It frightens you... terrifies you. It feels as if...

...someone is watching you.

You huddle further into the tree, closing your eyes to concentrate on your mates’ voice. “Okay. Okay. Stay there. Do not move, understand? It is forbidden for a reason. I am coming now, just – please.” Neteyam’s shaky voice comes through your earpiece.

Snap. No other than the sound of a twig breaking in two. How cliché.

You squeeze your eyes tighter, hoping that if you don’t look, it’ll go away. A hand flies to your mouth – your poor attempt at keeping the sounds of your heavy breaths to a minimum. The last time you were this petrified was when Auzo assaulted you in broad day light. What if that day repeats? What if something... someone, is watching you?

You had to tell him, now.

“O-okay, my Nete. I... need to tell you s-something.” you whisper into your hand, breath hitching.

“Tell me when I get there, okay? I’m coming now. Just stay there.” he tries to soothe his shaky voice.

Your eyes fly open to the rustle of the lush foliage above you.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I want to go home to my mate. To Ta’sun. You let go a breath you didn’t know you were even holding.

“No, i-it can’t wait. It’s important. I don’t even know how to stay it, Nete. I’m just so sorry. I really am. I love you, so much. And I miss you. I miss Ta’sun.” you blabber out a little too loudly, tears stinging your face.

“Y/n. Please. You are scaring me now. What is going on?” his bouncing voice is panic-stricken.

The rustling intensifies.

You gulp down a wad of spit. The hand covering your mouth trembles, droplets of tears falling on its luminescent freckles. “I need to tell you... the truth. All of it. I’m pr – ”

You gasp suddenly, hitting the floor with a thud. Something – someone is on top of you, pinning you face down. The earpiece falls out your ear, cutting off Neteyam shouting your name. It all happens so quick. In a moment, he has your hands tied behind your back, and a knife to your throat.

“Up.” A chilling voice sends a shiver down your spine. “Now!” he booms, jerking you up by the base of your queue. A deafening whimper parts your lips as you stand on the tips of your toes, trying your best to make space between your jugular and the knife’s blade.

He looks quickly at your fingers, counting ten in total. “Colonel. It’s Zhang. We got a half-breed. Site 26. Over.” he pages Quaritch.

Zhang? Colonel? As in... Colonel Quaritch?

Your belly ached at the words, twisting, and turning into a tight knot. Heart thumping violently against your ribs, your hold your breath, afraid of the blade a millimetre away from your throat.

“You’re coming with us, buttercup. Care to explain how you got ten fingers?” he snarls, pressing himself against you.

“’m not your fucking buttercup.” you squeeze out of clenched teeth, surprised by your own words.

Zhang chuckles deeply, tightening his grip on your queue, earning a high-pitched squeal from you. “Got a lil’ fight in ya’. Sit still, pretty. We got ways to make ya’ talk.”

“Two clicks out. Over.” a faint voice comes through his earpiece.

The magnitude of the situation quickly dawns on you. If you didn’t do something – if you didn’t get out now, you’d be kidnapped and tortured. An image of Ta’sun crying for his sa’nu [mama] in Neteyam’s arms flashes before you, igniting a roaring flame in your heart – incinerating the heaviness in it. Dagger pressed firmly to your throat, hand gripping your queue, binds on your wrists – the only thing free was your mouth.

----

Neteyam cautiously approaches the prohibited area, old link shack in sight. Hearing your high-pitched squeal, he quickly camouflages himself in the tall flora. Peeking through the slivers of the leaves, he catches the sight of what seems to be a Na’vi male pressing against you, holding a knife to your throat. He inhales sharply, blood bubbling under his skin, lips curling over his teeth.

Repositioning his stance, he loads his bow in an instant, ready to make his first kill. Hot air huffing through his nostrils, fury blurs his vision. He holds his breath, attempting to still his shaky hand as he pulls the fatal arrow back against his cheek. Heart galloping like a direhorse, he exhales slowly, aiming the pointed arrowhead at his prey.

“I have a baby... at home waiting for me... he’s – he’s almost five months old.” you speak slowly as tears stream down your face. Neteyam’s ears perk up at the sound of your small voice.

“Shut it, buttercup.” Zhang snaps at you, leaving a warning on your throat.

“He... needs his mama.” you choke out between hitched breaths, tears mixing with the blood trickling down your chest. Neteyam grimaces at your words, struggling to get a clear shot.

“Shut it!” He shouts, twisting the base of your queue.

“Mmmn!” you muffle out a cry, body tensing – eyes squeezing shut. “Please.” you breathe.

“Fuck!” Zhang yells angrily, spinning you around to face his towering frame. “Didn’t I tell you to fucking shut it?” he yanks your head back, positioning the tip of his dagger to your jugular.

You could tell from the look in his eyes that your words were getting to him, triggering him. It was as if he didn’t want to hear that you were a real person, with a life, a family – a baby in your belly. Not only did you have a baby at home, but you had one here with you, inside your womb. Your heart skips a beat as you prepare yourself to utter the words – to face the truth.

“I’m pregnant.” you mouth, words catching in your throat. Top lip twitching from rage, he withdraws his dagger, ready to make the lethal cut. “No. No! I’m pregnant! P-please.” you cry out, words dislodging abruptly – loudly. Your words echo in your ears, fuelling the menacing fire in your heart to incinerate whatever denial or doubt you had remaining.

Neteyam’s heart throbs in his chest, a surge of adrenaline rushing through him. His eyes widen, his focus becoming clear and sharp. His mate needs him – his mate who carries his unborn. Zhang’s grip loosens ever so slightly, predatory leer softening for a millisecond, providing Neteyam with a clear shot.

His releases his arrow of death, bowstring snapping against his forearm, impaling his prey through his back. You witness his body jolt, eyes dilate and constrict before they dim completely. His lifeless body slumps to the ground, arrow protruding out of his back as blood pools at your feet. Your eyes snap up, to see Neteyam’s wide stance, chest heaving violently from making his first kill. Your eyes lock with his, riddled with worry and anger.

“Neteyam!” you sob loudly, watching him bolt towards you.

“Did he touch you?!” he raises his voice, gripping your arms to move you back to examine your condition.

“N-no!” you stutter, in absolute shock.

Pulling you into his arms, he holds you tightly, one hand on the back of your head and the other fiddling with the tie on your wrists. “Mawey. Mawey [calm]. I am here. You’re safe.” he pants shakily, adrenaline still coursing viciously through his veins. “You’re safe.” he repeats breathily, finally freeing you from your restraints.

He steps back, eyes trailing your body thoroughly, narrowing slightly as they pass the wound on your throat. They make their way down your chest, watching at the red beads of blood and tears drip down your stomach. His gaze lingers at your abdomen, taking in the sight of the small bump left by Ta’sun – now filled by his unborn. Eyes snapping back up to yours, he swallows thickly.

“Is it true? Are you pregnant?” he asks breathlessly, a hand slipping from your arm to rest on your womb.

You nod weakly, tears welling up in your eyes once more. “Yes, Nete.” you catch your breath. “I am. I’m pregnant. I’m s-so sorry.” You bawl, salty tears stinging the wound on your neck.

Tears threaten to fall from his glossy eyes as he smiles wobbly, his hand cupping your cheek. “You’re pregnant. Oh, ma’ yawne, you are pregnant.” he breathes, putting the pieces of the puzzle together.

“I – I didn’t know my heat would come. I understand why you’re upset, that you’re not ready for another. I’m so sorry, Nete. I should’ve known, and I – I’m sorry I’ve been so distant, so terrible to you. And Mo’at says she is stressed, all because of me, and-” you sob hysterically, Neteyam cutting you off to embrace you closely.

“She? A girl?” he asks quickly, pulling you closer into his chest. “We’re having a baby girl?” his tears overflow, rolling down his cheeks.

You nod into his chest, sobbing loudly. He shushes you, swaying you from side to side, rubbing the dip of your back. “Shh, my love. You have made me the happiest man alive, bringing life to our family once more. Do not fret, ma’ yawne. It is going to be okay. She will be okay.” He hums, planting a kiss on your head.

The whirring of a kunsip [scorpion gunship/helicopter] can be heard in the distance, throwing Neteyam back into the thick of his protective urges. “Come. Come. We must go. Quickly.” he whispers, grabbing your hand and running through the forest back to hometree.

----

Neteyam barges into his sleeping grandmother’s tent, rousing her out of her sleep. “Grandmother!”

The elder sits up groggily, used to her sleep being disturbed as Tsahik. “What is it, Neteyam?” she croaks.

“It is y/n. Please, check her.” he huffs, out of breath from the trek. He ended up carrying you back home half way, not wanting the baby to be under any more stress.

“Put me down, my Nete. Grandmother, I’m fine really, it is just a scratch.” you reassure the elder.

“What happened, my child? How did you get such a wound?” she goes for her concoction of herbs, smearing it over the deep cut. Neteyam explains briefly, as Mo’at makes her way around to your back, placing her cold palm flush against your spine.

“Baby is strong.” She hums, a surprised expression washing over her face. “What have you done since I last saw you?”

You smile weakly, glancing at Neteyam. He takes his hand in yours, giving it a quick squeeze. “I told my mate.”

Mo’at’s eyes flicker between the two of you, her puzzled expression relaxing into one of happiness. “I see.” she states, corners of her lips curling upwards. “Everything is good. Get dome rest. Both of you.”

“Thank you, grandmother.” you shoot her a smile, thankful for her help. Neteyam sweeps three fingers from his forehead, also thanking his grandmother.

He turns to you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Kiri has Ta’sun. Shall we go?”

You nod hastily, a smile plastered on your face. Oh, how you longed to see your son after such an ordeal.

Arriving at Kiri’s tent, Neteyam quietly enters to see Kiri pacing back and forth. “Neteyam! Y/n!” she whispers loudly. She sees your banged up condition, scanning your body frantically. She hugs you tightly, full of guilt for not walking you home. “I’m so sorry, y/n. I should have taken you home.” she pulls away from the hug. “Are you okay? What happened?”.

You explain the night’s events to Kiri, letting her know that it wasn’t her fault and she shouldn’t be sorry.

“I’m just glad you’re okay now. My brother does a good job at protecting you. Doesn’t he?” Kiri shoots a smile at her brother before glancing back to you. “I’m also happy to hear your baby is doing better. Speaking of, Ta’sun is fast asleep.” Kiri gestures to the sleeping babe in her cot. “Just got him down, too. So I hope you’re not thinking of taking my prrnen [baby] from me.” She smiles, knowing you two could use a good nights rest.

Neteyam and you share a quick glance, wondering if you should take her up on her offer.

“Go. You guys need the rest, look at you both.” she giggles quietly, rolling her eyes.

“Thank you, Kiri” you whisper, nose scrunching the wider your smile grows.

“Sister.” Neteyam smirks, thanking her silently with his eyes. You both walk out of Kiri’s tent towards yours, hand in hand.

----

Neteyam holds your hand tightly, relishing in the first form of intimacy he’s had from you in weeks. He’s careful not to take it any further than that, not wanting to pressure you into doing something you weren’t ready for. He’d wait on you for as long as you need him to. Anything for his beloved.

“My love. You must be exhausted.” he hums, opening the door of your tent, helping you step under the flap. “Let us get you into bed, yes?” He coos, as if you were Ta’sun that he were putting to sleep. He walks you over to the cot, trying to get you to lay down.

“Neteyam.” You whisper, fighting his gentle pushes to stay on your feet.

He stops, turning his head and quickly untwining his fingers from yours to take a step back, thinking he’s upset you again.

“Ma’ teyam.” you whisper once more, two fingers brushing the underside of his chin to have him face you.

His head follows the soft tug of your digits, glossy amber eyes staring deeply into yours. Wetting your bottom lip with a quick swipe of your tongue, you lessen the space between your bodies, dropping your gaze down to his lips. He stays still, body rigid, jaw clenched as he returns his gaze to your glistening lips. His stomach flutters as he watches you tilt your chin upwards, eyelids growing heavy.

Brushing your top lip against his, you linger there, open-mouthed, sharing the same breath. He closes his eyes, savouring your closeness, your warmth. Breaths turn raggedy as the tension buds in your chests. Your eyes close, hand smoothing over his jaw, up the nape of his neck. You pull him closer, noses brushing against one another, foreheads pressing firmly together.

“Kiss me” you pant.

His lips softly press against yours, lingering for a second too long to take in your silken skin. He pulls away, catching his breath. Your eyes pop open, gaze now boring into his half-lidded eyes, searching them for an answer.

“Kiss me.” you breathe needily, fingers interlacing with the braids at the back of his head.

Chest heaving against yours, his lustful eyes explore yours for a moment before dropping down to your flushed lips. He swallows thickly, crashing his lips into yours once more, eager for your touch – your love. Kisses so rough, so hungry that they bruise yours. Being starved for so long he has his fill greedily, crushing the suppleness of your lips with his, gently nipping at your skin.

He pulls away to catch his breath before diving back in with his tongue. His hands quickly move up to your cheeks, cupping them firmly, pulling you into his needy kisses as if you could even get any closer. He breaks the kiss, panting raggedy breaths into your open mouth, snapping his eyes open to look deeply into yours once more.

“I missed you” he pants quickly, before his tongue briefly swipes your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth. You reciprocate the hunger as the ache in your lungs worsen from the words you inhaled. Your tongues roll over one another, tasting the desperation pooling in each other’s cheeks. Eager hands explore his body, brushing over his pulsing neck down to his hot chest, swiping around to his broad back as they tickle their way down to the band of his loincloth.

“’m sorry, ma’ muntxatan [husband].” you breathe into his mouth, slipping your trembling fingers under the purple cloth, only for a hand to stop you. He pulls away once more.

“ma’ muntxate [wife].” he whispers, forehead pushing into yours, “I’m sorry. I have left you alone in this.” he brings your hand to your belly, cupping it with his. “I have made you feel like you cannot be honest with me... Like I would be... upset, about you carrying my child. I am so sorry.” he grimaces, choking back his tears as he places another hand on your stomach. “You are my most cherished... most prized possession. Everything you do brings light to my life. A sense of purpose.” he blubbers, teardrops crashing onto his cheeks. “I-I love you, ma’ txe’lan”

“Oh, Nete.” you squeeze out a closing throat, “I love you, my sweet Nete. I have been so cold.” you cry quietly, untwining your fingers from his hair to gently caress his queue. “I have denied you of my love... my touch.” your hand strokes the length of his queue, bringing it over his shoulder – making his tail wrap around your waist.

“I have lied to you.” you squeak, not wanting to say the words. “I do not deserve you.” you weep quietly.

“Shh. Shh, my love.” he hums low in his chest, meeting the softness of your lips once again. A hand leaves your stomach, sliding up your back to gently graze your queue. “I want you. I need you.” a soft, needy moan parts your lips, “Please” he brings your queue over your shoulder, silently asking for tsaheylu.

You nod hastily, smiling so hard that your front teeth click harshly against his. You both look down, witnessing your tendrils dance excitedly with one another before melting together to become one. A gasp catches in both your throats as your breath syncs together. You snap your gaze up to witness his pupils blackening his eyes, leaving nothing but a thin amber ring.

“I see you.” you gasp in unison, rubbing your faces against one another.

Sore lips crash into each other, desperate for an even deeper connection. Muddled thoughts race through your minds, as you try to express your immense adoration and love you have for one another. He hurriedly lowers you onto the cot, moving his feverish kisses down your throat, being careful not to graze your wound. Little, sweet moans escape your open mouth, head sinking back into the cushiony bedding as he settles between your legs. Wet kisses leave a trail of saliva down to your chest, where he takes your stiff nipple into his warm mouth, suckling gently. Your soft moans quickly morph into whimpers, thighs rubbing together to satiate the budding heat of your sex.

“Neteyam!” you whine lowly, hand snaking up his back to grip his hair once more.

He pops off your breast, staring up at you with love in his eyes. “Call me your tìyawn” he mumbles, kissing the dip between your breasts, making his way down to your stomach.

“Ma’ tìyawn...” you moan breathily, screwing your eyes shut at the sensation of his tongue trailing down your stomach.

“Yes? oeyä sevin [my pretty] ... mother of my children” he hums, planting wet kisses on your lower stomach.

“Ma’ tìyawn! I... I miss – Oh!” you gasp, eyes flying open as you feel his kisses move quickly to the soddened cloth covering the soft flesh between your glossy thighs.

“I miss you, too.” he mumbles through a smile before untying the flimsy knot on your loincloth with his teeth. He stares longingly at your plump, glistening slit, only glancing up at you briefly to make sure you’re okay with what he’s doing. “Can I?” he asks, breath hitching from his pounding heart. Another hasty nod grants him permission.

Wasting not another second, he presses his nose between your folds, taking in a deep breath to savour the scent of your arousal. He forgot how good you smelled pregnant. It only riles him up more, his fingers digging into your thighs to pin them to the bed. He opens his mouth, wide, and laps up your sweet nectar dipping slowly from your opening, all the way up to the sensitive nub at the top of your cunt. His single swipe of his tongue makes your body jolt, a hand fly to his head to shove him closer. Thighs trying to break free of their restraints, you look down to see his half-lidded eyes full of lust staring up at you intently as the flat of his tongue plays with your clit.

You taste so good pregnant, y/n. His words echo in your mind as he holds eye contact with you. Cum in my mouth, let me taste more of you.

Your little mewls weren’t so little anymore, they morph into loud, wanton, drawn out moans. The heat pooling in your chest trickles down your spine into your already-full womb, making your legs shake even more.

“Teyam! Oh - Ugh! Please, teyam!” you beg loudly, for what - you’re not sure.

He gives it to you though, knowing exactly what to do to tip you over the edge. Two digits prod at your sopping entrance, wiggling around to burrow their way into your heat. Your moans lodge in your throat once his lengthy fingers bottom out in your cunt, and they dislodge once his fingers furl into your sweet spot. Head snapping forward, an arm propping up your torso, you spread your legs as wide as they can go and push your pelvis harder into his relentless licks.

That’s it, mama. Cum for daddy. He thinks loudly, his own hips snapping to grind his painfully hard cock into the foot of the cot.

“Ugh! Oh f-fuck! Yesyesyesyes!” you release silent cries, violently humping his face as you chase your climax.

The bond makes it so that he feels it too, that heat pooling deep in your pelvis... that hot coil ready to snap into two. His hips grind harder into the cot, desperate to find relief for his aching, throbbing cock. He can’t help but grunt into your pussy, feeling his own coil about to snap.

“m’ gonna – m’ gonna fucking cum! I – Oh! I’m cumming – cumming!” you cry out, head dipping back as you give his face two forceful thrusts, pussy walls fluttering wildly around his fingers. He yanks them out in a hurry, cupping your quivering hole with his mouth to get his fill of your thick, sweetened nectar.

“Mm – mhmm” He lets loose throaty, broken groans into your cunt, a quick pause for every gulp of your cum he swallows. His cock only grinds harder against the cot as he feels the warmth of your cum trickle down his throat. He pulls away with a *pwah*, gasping for air. Quickly sucking his fingers dry, he crawls towards you.

“Fuck. I missed having my fill of you when you’re pregnant.” he moans breathily, smoothing his palm over your belly as he lines his jumping, veiny cock with your slit.

The words make your already flushed cheeks heat up even more, ridding any remanence of doubt you had left in your heart. “Please, ma’ yawnetu [love].” your lungs tremble.

“Tell me, mama. Tell me what you need.” he moans breathily, rubbing his already-wet cockhead between your plump folds, beads of precum oozing onto your throbbing clit.

“Mmm – I need you... h-here” you pant, shoving your hand between your sticky pelvises to shift his tip to your entrance.

“Yeah?” he smiles, crouching over you to pant hot breaths into the shell of your ear. “And then what?” he whispers shakily into your ear, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes.

“And then this.” you utter under a whisper, wrapping your wobbly legs around his hips, sinking him slowly inside of you. A quick hand tilts your chin to meet your chest, making you watch as his your heat swallows his cock, inch by inch. The deeper he goes, the louder your strained whines grow.

“Look at you, taking me so well.” he hums, watching himself bottom out in your pussy.

“I love you.” It slips out, just as his tip presses against your cervix. His eyes snap back up to meet yours, to see they’ve glossed over with tears.

“I love you.” he utters breathily, kissing you gently as he sets a languid pace with his hips.

He’s already so, so close, all from a few slow thrusts. Your walls clamp around him, still recovering from the orgasm that rippled through your entire being. Feeling your intense arousal through tsaheylu only amplified his, sending his hips into a frenzy – spasming slow and deep inside of your pussy. The bump of his throbbing cockhead brushes repeatedly against your sweet spot, the sensation pulsing through your queue only makes him rut into it even more. He unwraps your leg from his waist, hoisting it up over his shoulder, and leans into you so deep that your knee presses against your cheek.

“Ah! Ngh... t-teyam” you yelp out, his pelvis so flush against yours that his pelvic bone grinds against your clit.

“Too deep?” he groans, pulling out of you slightly.

“No, no. It’s so good... ‘s so good” you mumble as you wrap your arms around his neck and focus on the immense pleasure radiating through your entire body.

“Good.” he breathes, lazily thrusting into you, massaging your sweet spot with the swollen tip of his cock. “Ma’ yawnetu. You feel so good.” he bites back a moan, trying his best to restrain himself from being too rough with you.

“Do it, tìyawn.” you moan, feeling his resistance through tsaheylu. “Fuck me. Faster... Harder, please.” you breath into his mouth, tightening the leg that’s wrapped around him.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, or the baby.” he grunts, burying his face into the nook of your neck.

“Shh... do it, my teyam. I want it. I want you. I need you. I love you.” you blubber out, rutting your hips into his, chasing the feeling budding in the pit of your stomach.

“Oh – oh fuck, y/n.” he groans, looking down at you buck your hips into him.

“Please!” you cry out, feeling the swell of your sweet spot again.

He gives into his mate’s wishes, picking up the speed of his hips, working sweet squelching noises out of your cunt with his fast, insistent strokes. Your quiet, hoarse moans pierce his eardrums, the more he pounds into you, his heavy, swollen balls slapping noisily against the curve of your bottom.

“Oh – oh y/n. You... ngh, you’re so fucking wet. I – I’m gonna – hgnh- ” he grunts lowly into your neck before lifting his head up to look into your eyes. His open mouth brushes against yours, panting in and out your shared air.

“M-me too, my teyam. Faster! Faster!” you huff loudly into his mouth, tears trickling down your cheeks as the knot in your stomach quickly unravels. You can feel his cock twitch inside you, begging to release it’s essence inside of your hot cunt. “Cum i-inside me.” you pant into his mouth, wanting your cunt and his cock to flutter at the same time.

“Mmn. Fuck!” he growls deeply, forcing your leg further back against your face.

“Holy fuck! Cumming!” you squeal, sinking your teeth into his shoulder to muffle your cries of pleasure.

“Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh –” a guttural, loud groan evades his throat as he dips his head back from the sensation of your fluttering pussy walls and the sting of your bite. He gives you two, hard thrusts – his spasming cock emptying its heavy, thick load inside your cunt. He pulls out of you quickly, resting his hung, twitching cock on your thigh as he rocks into it, riding out the last lap of his high.

“I love you, Neteyam.” the trembling words slip out once more, before you close your heavy lidded eyes.

“I love you, y/n.” he coos, nuzzling into your neck to cherish the moment.

Tags:@jakexneytiri @sweethoneycn @deadgirl02 @keijis-wifey @pandorxx @swiftielivvie @teyamfangirl @avatar-lover @sooebear @vanillawhale @bxnnywriting @athenachu @trashboat-the-raccoon @avaixe @qweq-6802 @rodeosayu @girlpostingsposts @erinloversworld @agelsully @zetey @raaaaainn @eywascall @yawneneteyam @weirdomcu @pandxrastars @eichenhouseproperty @camgod78 @kibiscribbles @bedofpearls @kurtsworld096 @audrinawf @otukirey @deexdeez @c78r @bby-bo @neteyamsmate4life @wheniseeyouigogonutz @sullymenrhot @jakescumdump @erenjaegerwifee @eywaheardyou @saturnheartz @lovekeeho @afro-hispwriter @lovemyavatar @rainbowsocks @eddiesluvt @etherialblackrose @sleepilysworld @fezandashgirlfriend @kahlowy @babyymeme @lovekeeho @ilove444sworld @kaixiio @becksimagination @ameliestsblog @theycallmesia @boooogieman @fanboyluvr @boohoobaby @that-one-lightskin @st-cass @jakesully-sbabygirl @urfavgirlmakenna @zaddyskye69 @iikatsukii @netemoon @lu-the-ghost-reader

THIS IS FUCKING GIF I MADE IT SUCKS WHY IS IT SO FUCKING SMALL HELP ME

creds to my baby bubble anon for the gif ilysm

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xzinbdg · 1 year

Text

oh dad? idk

synopsis: yn as a single mother never really wanted to look for the father it was just a one time thing at a party and she was doing alright by herself but ever since her daughter turned four she started asking questions that even she doesn't know the answer to.

pairing: sunghoon x mother! fem reader

genre: smau, crack, strangers to lovers, parents au

warinings: swearing, might be a bit suggestive english is not my first language so there might be some grammar errors, i might use photos for the reader but it's mostly if i want to show her with someone else, i will definitely use photos for the child, if there are more specific warnings i will put them at the beginning of a chapter

featuring: enhypen, yunjin of le sserafim, wonyoung of ive, keeho and soul of p1harmony

playlist: here!

status: completed!

taglist: CLOSED!

main masterlist

mother's side / father's side

weird ass dream

i would cry too

u ready stinky?

/srs or /jk

going crazy

alexa play deja vu

mom to many

i'm scared

we made a pretty kid

hello

co-parenting

dad core

she hates me

found love

oh dad? sunghoon!

tbc....

author's note: hi!! it's my first work so pls be kind!! i will try to post as much as i can but i can't promise anything bcs life 🥹🥹🥹 if you want to be on the tag list pls send me an ask or just comment here! bye bye!! 🥰

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alessiamalfoyzabini · 8 months

Text

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱

Pairing | Yandere Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 2,220

Warnings | +18, Taehyung gives bad advice, Jungkook obsessed and manipulative, the protagonist increasingly confused with herself

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | If she had paid attention earlier to the sin that dwelt behind those obsidian irises, she would never have trusted it.

If she had noticed earlier the devouring love that dwelled in his corrupt heart, she probably would have fled.

She had done none of that, and now she had to come to terms with her new reality.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys! Have fun with this sixth chapter, let me know what do you think! 🥰

Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @douknowbts, @aiiselle90210, @fewercascade , @mageprincess7, @m00njinnie

Taglist is open!

Chapter List - I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII / The End

For several days Y/N could not sit properly, to her shame she had the constant need for help from Jungkook, which each time led her to clam up. The boy applied ointment to her every night to heal her wounds, which, shortly after that abrupt sexual intercourse of theirs, had appeared even more painful than the spanking itself, Jungkook avoided externalizing his happiness every time he touched her, encircling her soft buttocks in his hands gently, because on the other hand he saw the girl's detachment and felt guilty. Y/N could not forget the pain of that punishment, just as she could not forget the sticky feeling of his cum on her face, as well as in her mouth, had been shocking and regrettable. But what really humbled the girl deep down was the fact that she had felt constant pleasure in every action of his, even the most vulgar and obscene. The moments before her orgasm replayed in her head, she had longed for it, unable to think of anything else, and god-sometimes even dreamed of it. What was happening to her? It was not normal to react like this, he was her captor and he had punished her, like some kind of rude child, she burned at reliving each moment, this forced her to distance herself even more from the young man.

On the other hand, Jungkook watched her pacing around the house like a soul in pain, and wondered if he had been right to punish her in that way. He saw the distance that, if possible, had increased since that night.

He did not feel good about her in that condition; he wanted to make it up to her, but he did not know how. He swallowed, coming to the conclusion that they had to talk somehow.

He headed to her room with that thought, knocking gently on her door.

He did not like the fact that they were still sleeping apart, but on that Y/N had been adamant. "Y/N? Can we talk for a moment?" he asked, hoping to hear her voice.

Unfortunately, the girl decided to play the silent game once again, Jungkook inhaled, "Y/N, I'm coming in," he warned her, before throwing the door wide open and crossing the threshold of the room. He aimed his gaze at the bed, there where a small bundle was pretending to sleep under the covers. He walked toward that spot, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I shouldn't have treated you that way," he said, regretfully. Yeah, he should never have treated her that way, but between his anger and lust, he had understood nothing more, hadn't masturbated since that time in the old Y/N house, having her that way had sent his self-control to the dogs. "I was angry, and you very indisposed ... I think it was a mix of everything," he whispered, embarrassed, "And you were so beautiful that ... fuck, you really don't know what you do to me," he chuckled unenthusiastically, the girl opened her eyes slightly, remaining well buried. "I'd like to apologize, promising that I won't let anger make me lose my mind anymore, not with you."

Y/N felt a strange grip around her heart; she knew what it was and gritted her teeth. She could not let herself be swayed by the part that still loved him, despite everything he had done to her. She was an incurable romantic in love with her professor, her psychopathic professor who had kidnapped her and declared eternal love for her. He was sick and she could not give in, even though her body, heart, and part of her mind convinced her that he really only wanted her good. She felt a caress on her shoulder; it was a light, quick touch, like the beating of a tiny hummingbird's wings. She said nothing and Jungkook did not dare to add anything else, just left the room in complete and heavy silence. He had failed again.

From then on things were strange, when she got up she would already find breakfast, lunch and dinner still steaming on the table, but no sign of the man. It was strange to eat alone, she was no longer used to solitude, by then it had become the norm to have another human being around the house, ready to look after her at all times. So, unknowingly she began to look for him whenever she could, around the apartment. And always with disappointment, she found that Jungkook was not there. Feeling damn lonely, she began to curse the boy. Hadn't he been the one to tell her that he would never leave her? That he was there for her? Sure, he would not leave her to starve, but Y/N felt hungry for more, it was a deeper, more intimate hunger, one that bound one person to another. A sense of forbidden need that she tried to silence, but could not.

Jungkook was not faring any better, with dark circles to rival a panda's, he threw himself headlong into his work. And he was not behind a desk in that case. He finished just then violently severing a man's carotid artery, blood splattered on his clothes and face, watched with a frown as the man's body trembled and slumped to the ground in mute pain, threw the knife next to the body and shouted angrily inside the warehouse. "You've doubled the load of your work and now you're risking an alarming nervous breakdown, what the hell is wrong with you, 'Kook?" the young man turned sharply toward his friend, Taehyung stared in disgust at the corpse on the ground, "Why are you looking at me like that? Namjoon had said 'clean job,' this looks like a massacre to me." Jungkook grabbed a towel from the cabinet in the corner of the room, dabbing the sweat and blood from his face, "He deserved it, do you know how many girls in our brothel he killed for his disgusting sex games?"

"I know, I analyzed the investigation request Namjoon sent us, but that doesn't take away from the fact that reducing it like this was not in the plans, now how do we pass off the murder of a wealthy Hispanic arms dealer as an accident?" he ironized, Jungkook in response kicked the corpse, as if to emphasize the fact that he couldn't give a damn. "You have piranhas yourself, don't you? Solution found," he tossed his now unusable shirt into a black envelope; he could not go home in that condition, it would definitely break down the precarious relationship that bound him to Y/N. Fortunately there was also a shower in that warehouse, he really could not risk coming back like that, he looked like something out of a splatter movie and the girl did not know his second - and definitely more illegal - job. "Things aren't going well with the girlfriend, huh?" his friend taunted him, earning a dirty look.

"More like they just don't go," he sat wearily on the ground, hiding his head in his arms as he did as a child.

Taehyung immediately regretted mentioning the topic, "Hey, Jungkook...it just takes time, each one has a different way of reacting," he tried to explain, although he could not say he understood it one hundred percent, his girlfriend already loved him before she started a serious relationship with him, he had not experienced the same wars as Seokjin and Jungkook, or worse, Jimin. He recalled with a shudder the girl who was now talking carefree with them, had discovered Jimin's arsenal and had taken the opportunity to stab him on the back and escape. Where Jimin had found the strength to chase and tackle her, Taehyung still could not explain. "It's different Taehyung, I don't have what you call an 'iron fist' with her, if she rejects me I suffer and feel bad, I feel like I'm going crazy." "Then you reject her!" exclaimed the other harshly, "You live together and you are practically the only human she can relate to, if you stop talking to her, paying attention to her or seeing her, she will wonder why, and she will come after you!" He stared at Taehyung with a strange expression, mulling over those words. Perhaps his friend was right, perhaps he had been too helpful and this had been taken as a sign of weakness on the girl's part. He nodded, already knowing what to do.

Y/N heard keys turn in the keyhole and the front door open, she widened her eyes to see that Jungkook had finally come home on time. She had not seen him for days and was beginning to worry. Yes, she was worrying about him. And it was absurd, how unnatural, but it was indeed so. Y/N got up from the couch, that same couch where that painful punishment had been carried out, followed shortly after by the sinful act, and went to meet the boy. She reached him in time to see him take off his jacket, his distraught face leaving her interjected for a moment. "Jungkook!" she said, watching him minutely. His wavy hair was damp and let free to go where it pleased, a thick sweatshirt covered his statuesque physique, and a jumpsuit and boots completed the outfit. For the umpteenth time Y/N actually felt small in front of the man, especially when his gaze fluttered over her briefly, without answering her. He passed her in two strides, locking himself in his room without saying a single word.

This made the girl freeze on the spot, and she did not understand the reason behind his actions. Jungkook had gotten angry a few times, but he was almost always sunny and sweet in her presence; that coldness was something new, something the girl did not want to get used to. She walked slowly in the direction of the boy's bedroom, knocked shyly twice, but received no answer. Her arm fell back along her side, she felt lonely. She felt even more lonely when, at dinner, Jungkook remained with his eyes glued to his smartphone, she swallowed a bitter pill when, trying to engage in a discussion, she asked him, "How are things going at the university? You've been working a lot lately..." and Jungkook replied with a quick shrug. She lost what little appetite she had left, but forced herself to finish, fearfully remembering rule number two, which is to finish her meals like a good girl. She finished her dinner sadly, Jungkook silently picked up the plates and cutlery, putting them to wash in the dishwasher, then without another word he locked himself in his room. He still did everyday things, but with a strange and cold attitude. It went on like this for two weeks, Jungkook always leaving before she woke up, and although present in the house, there seemed to be no one to talk to. Y/N was going crazy.

She wanted Jungkook's attention, she wanted the boy to come back for her, but she did not know how to tell him without making a bad impression. She felt so lonely, and she had to admit it, the boy's love-struck side of herself was bleeding, with moist eyes she continued to watch the television, venting those tears she otherwise would have tried not to shed out of shame. She missed Jungkook. What she did not know was that the situation was generating not one but two victims. Jungkook missed Y/N, he missed her like fresh morning air or like the wind in his hair, everything about Jungkook wanted to push him to give in, to come back to her with a thousand and more kisses to give her and demand for himself, but Taehyung's words were firmly rooted in Jungkook's head. The girl had to understand the importance of having him around, otherwise the dynamics between them would never change. She would continue to see him as a jailer, he as an untouchable girl. It wasn't fair; he wanted a relationship, not a constant tug of war. So he kept coming home later and later, of course leaving her meals to eat, that would never change, but he wanted her to finally decide to run into his arms.

Two days later, Y/N lying in her bed could not get to sleep. Jungkook still had not returned and she wondered what he was doing and who he was with, especially that last question was nagging her. There had to be a valid reason behind his detachment so suddenly, and the thought of another woman had made its way into her mind several times already, the more time passed, the more the thought grew, until it had made it impossible for her to rest well at night for some time now. A strange feeling was roaring in her chest, one she had never felt before, never had a reason to feel it, and now it was disturbing her like few things in the world. Jealousy. Yes, she was rotten jealous. The image of Jungkook kissing or fucking a woman who was not her was corroding her from the inside out. She would have given every pittance to know the truth, but then what would she have done? Would she have survived such pain? She pulled up her nose and only then, in complete silence, did she hear the door open and footsteps make their way through the house.

#bts #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts x reader #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #yandere jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook #bts yandere smut #yandere bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #yandere #yandere jeongguk #jeongguk x reader #jeon jungkook x reader

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billiethepumpkin · 7 months

Note

heyo billie!! i absolutely love love love LOVE your posts so much!! your writing is amazing and i find myself being super immersed in them! if you don’t mind me asking, could i request shinsou comforting the reader after a terrible fight with their parents and they have no else to rely on so they end up just venting EVERYTHING to him??? long story short ive been struggling with that situation and it’s been hard for me :( thank you for your works and i wish you a happy day!!

Feel Small: Hitoshi Shinsou x Reader

Warnings: Rated R. This content is intended for those ages 18 years and older. If you are a minor, pleas do not interact.

Contains: GN!reader. Parental issues. Crossed boundaries. Comfort.

Author's Note: All characters are portrayed to be ages 18 years or older because I'm an old fuck :)

You'd been away at university. It had been winter break, though, and you had gone home to visit your parents. You ate the same dinners as when you were a child; you slept in your childhood bedroom; and you had the same conversations you'd always had. You weren't even sure how it had spiraled into the screaming match between you and your mother, but here you were, pacing back and forth with your hand on your chest, trying to come back down to earth. All you wanted to do was go home.

You paced the floor in your room, waiting for a solution to appear in front of your face. You were an adult, damnit! Sure, they were your parents, but they didn't have any right to speak to you that way. You took deep breaths, but your chest didn't get any better.

But you were home. Right? You were in the place where you had grown up. You were sleeping in the bed where you had always slept. You were eating the foods you always ate, at the same table you had always eaten at. But somehow, this time, the house felt so... small. You felt so closed in and stuck, and you just wanted to get out.

Where were you supposed to go, though? It was late. Like, really late. Normal people would have been in bed, not contemplating driving all the way back to school.

Not everyone, though.

You sent a text to Shinsou. "Are you awake?" you asked. He was roughly an hour away, closer to the school you were attending, but he was all you had right now.

"What do you think?" he texted back quickly. You couldn't help but laugh as you read it in that sarcastic, snarky tone that he always had, even with you, his partner. Shinsou was always awake.

Eventually, you ended up packing all of the things you had brought to your childhood home and driving to Shinsou's apartment just barely off campus. He opened the door to let you in, and before he could even close the door, you found yourself burying your face in his shoulder. "Hi," he muttered before kissing the side of your head. He pulled you in and softly closed the door behind you before pulling you deeper into his grip. One hand held your back, the other caressing the back of your head, and he gently shushed you as you cried into him.

Hitoshi was so gentle, so delicate. He brought you to the couch and rubbed your back as the tears rolled down your face. He didn't ask what was wrong. He didn't tell you to calm down. Shinsou just held you there in comfortable silence, waiting for you to be ready to talk.

Once your breathing steadied again, he turned to you and simply asked, "What happened?"

And when you answered, boy, did the floodgates open. You let it all out. The way you felt trapped in that house now that you've been in the real world. The way you remembered their disrespect and emotional neglect from when you were a child. The way they continued to belittle you now, to speak to you as if you were still small. They made you feel small. You couldn't handle it anymore, and you weren't sure how to move forward. Because you loved your parents, right? You always thought you had. But now, ever since they shouted at you the way they did, now that they had pushed your boundaries and disrespected you from the moment you walked into their house, you were lost.

And he just listened. Shinsou, the angel that he was, just sat there next to you and listened to you vent. He rubbed your back, tracing delicate patterns over your skin, and listened until you had gotten everything out of your system. "I'm not really sure what you need right now," he said. "I still haven't really figured out how to fix the issued with my family either."

You sighed and held your face in your hands. Both of you paused for a moment while he figured out what to say. "What I do know, though, is that you are very loved," he finally continued. "I love you to death. And I know that they love you to death, too. If you need time and space, that is okay. If you need help figuring out how to set boundaries, we'll figure that out. I am here to help you, whatever that looks like right now."

Now you started crying for a different reason. "Well, fuck, Toshi," you teased, wiping your own tears with the backs of your hands. You both giggled a little bit. "I love you a whole lot," you said, falling back onto his chest, the golden light of the only lamp in the room shrouding you in shadow and creating a halo around Shinsou's head.

Hitoshi kissed your forehead and rubbed your back some more. He held you close, trying to press all the love he could into your flesh. As long as you needed him, he'd be there, whatever that meant.

#mha #bnha #mha fluff #bnha fluff #mha comfort #bnha comfort #mha shinsou #bnha shinsou #mha hitoshi #bnha hitoshi #shinsou x reader #hitoshi x reader #shinsou comfort #hitoshi comfort

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drakaripykiros130ac · 5 months

Text

So few people realize that this Dance and the usurpation of Rhaenyra’s throne, kind of puts a dent in the idea of an absolute monarchy.

Think about it for a moment. What is an absolute monarchy? It is a system of government where you have one ruler who has complete authority over state and government.

In simpler terms: the monarch can do whatever he wants (while also in accordance to written laws).

Since there was no succession law at the time, King Viserys could choose whoever he wanted as his heir. And he chose his eldest child, Rhaenyra. The King’s word is law in an absolute monarchy, so to deny Rhaenyra her right to sit the throne goes against the imposed system, just because certain lords don’t like it or are too ambitious for their own good.

Take Aegon IV for example. He legitimized all of his bastards before he died. It was a cruel and shitty move, yes. But it was perfectly legal. The monarch has the power to legitimize bastards, and that’s exactly what he did. Once again, people didn’t like it and continued to refer to Daemon Blackfyre, Bittersteel, Bloodraven, Shiera Seastar etc. as bastards.

So, I don’t even get why Westeros continues to “function” under an absolute monarchy, when no one actually obeys the system.

There will always be sneaky and overly ambitious lords who plot at every turn *cough* Hightowers *cough*, but if people bothered to obey the system, these upstarts wouldn’t stand a chance.

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danaewrites · 7 months

Text

Helmet Over Heels

part i: the winter of our discontent

din djarin x reader // read it on AO3

word count: 3.8k

summary: When your path literally collides with a beskar-covered Mandalorian one night, neither of you expect how that meeting will irreversibly change the trajectory of your lives.

You’re pulled into his powerful orbit, agreeing to take care of his son in exchange for adventure and freedom– when he’s not off hunting bounties and inadvertently saving villages in need, that is. It’s the perfect plan. Or it would be, if only your quiet crush on the man would stop growing into something more with every hour you spend together. There’s no way he’d ever feel the same, right?

And Din? Well, he’s been trying (and failing) to convince himself that he’s not completely helmet over heels for you since day one. But a Mandalorian can only repress his emotions for so long…

(This fic takes place sometime after Season 2. Din’s back on his bounty-hunting business with a Razor Crest that was never destroyed and an adorable green sidekick who won’t stop chewing on its wires.)

tags: strangers to friends to lovers, slow-ish burn, nicknames, touch-starved din djarin and fem!reader, canon-compliant through season 2 and then Jesus takes the wheel :P

author's notes:

hello and welcome to my first ever mando fic!! i binged the entirety of the first two seasons in a week to get me through tedious internship work and accidentally fell in love with our favorite space dad and his cute green child along the way. oops (i regret nothing)

with the outline i currently have for this fic, it’ll be around 11-12 chapters, although that’s likely to grow as we get deeper into the story. the posting schedule might be anywhere from once a week to once a month, but this wip *will* be finished.

the second chapter's scheduled to upload next week as a little treat for y'all, so if you want to catch it then hit that follow button or ask to be added to my taglist! ;)

read it all here: part i, part ii, part iii, part iv, part v coming soon!

You watched the last of tonight’s drunken patrons stumble out of the cantina and into the bitter Nath night with a relieved sigh. Wiping your hands on the stained apron tied around your waist, you fished a set of bronze keys out of a tiny pocket and began your nightly walk around the perimeter of the bar, locking doors and pulling down rusty shutters as you went. The cantina was silent aside from your quiet shuffling– a welcome reprieve from its usual crowded bustle and chatter so hectic you could barely hear your own thoughts.

You hummed softly as you adjusted booths back to their original positions and swept crumbs off of battered tabletops, wishing that the small holospeaker at the edge of the room hadn’t been broken in a recent bar fight. Swaying to its pre-Imperial oldies throughout your long, exhausting shifts had been one of the only perks of working in this run-down cantina, but without the soothing ambience of music, a chill threatened to sink into your bones and paralyze you with the deep depression this side of the planet seemed to have succumbed to.

You never planned to stay here for as long as you had. No one really did, except for criminals who knew that no one would willingly come here to search for them and locals who had never known anything else. Nath might have been charming, once– all soft snowflakes and peaceful walks under sepia-toned streetlights– but that was before the Empire had destroyed every semblance of comfort and culture and replaced them with brutalist brick structures that were already crumbling under the weight of their makers’ crimes. The fear lingered long after the Imps had finally left the post, reflected in the sad eyes of the fishmongers’ children and the way one would be hard-pressed to find a factory worker who didn’t spend his nights nursing a bottle and the ghosts of blaster scars across his back.

You had your own scars, of course, but you still held out hope that things would change and you’d make it out of here– although that hope was gradually diminishing as off-world shuttles visited less and less frequently and the permanent winter worsened. Five years ago, you’d been unceremoniously dropped off at the town’s dingy port, forced to land after your shuttle to Corellia was damaged by an unexpected detour through an asteroid field. You’d taken the cantina job thinking you’d only stay long enough to pay for passage on an outgoing ship, but soon learned that any shuttle risking the terrible weather to land here would also charge an exorbitant boarding price– one that would take you years to afford with the meager pay you received. And your tentative plan of stowing away on a spice freighter and sneaking off once it arrived at its destination (you weren’t picky about where, so long as it wasn’t Nath) was tempered by the increasingly likelihood that you’d get blown to pieces the minute you entered space by one of the pirate gangs that ruled the atmosphere these days. So– you were stuck here, at least for now.

The smell of something burning in the back of the cantina drew you out of your thoughts. Cursing, you raced to the kitchen, where your dinner was quickly blackening on the stove. Kriff. You shut off the burner, staring at the charred mess before you for a few seconds before dejectedly scraping it into an almost-overflowing trash bin. Well, there went your plan to eat quickly and head to your tiny flat before the storm outside worsened. Your rental pod had barely enough space for your bed and a miniscule bathroom, so you had to use the cantina kitchen if you wanted to stay fed– but the stove here was so old, it took half an hour longer than usual to cook anything. You resigned yourself to another night sleeping in a booth, since the flurry outside would prevent you from navigating your way home safely.

You sliced up a few vegetables and set them to simmer in a pot with the last of the herbed broth and sandseed noodles from today’s lunch special, glancing at the bin next to you. It was probably a good idea to take out the foul-smelling waste before you were sealed in next to it all night. Wrinkling your nose at the unappealing scraps of food threatening to fall off the top of the pile, you hefted the bin up and maneuvered it through the back door of the cantina, being careful not to stain your apron any more than it already was. The harsh winds nipped at every sliver of exposed skin and dusted your hair with a pearlescent sheen of snow, making you wish you’d thought to slip on something warmer than your thin blouse and trousers before leaving the protection of the kitchen.

You navigated through the blizzard to the end of the dark alleyway behind the cantina, your path lit only by two buzzing lamps at each end of the narrow corridor. You scrunched your face up against the cold, willing yourself to keep walking despite your extremely limited night vision. Just a few more steps, and then you’d be free of your compostable burden for the night. You turned the corner, stepping to the left where you knew the trash compactor was, and immediately collided with a giant hunk of metal.

Said hunk of metal cursed loudly as it stumbled head-first over the garbage bin you’d dropped in shock after the impact, falling forward into the snow. “Dank ferrik!”

Your eyes grew wide as the glow of the flickering streetlights illuminated the very-much-alive Mandalorian lying in front of you. It was just your luck that you’d managed to potentially injure the kind of warrior you’d only heard about in hushed rumors, or at least someone who was wearing the armor of one. Okay, injure was a strong word, but all that cold, hard beskar couldn’t be very comfortable to fall on despite the protection it offered.

“Stars, I’m so sorry, let me–”

You reached forward, stretching out a hand to help the Mandalorian up when a small green head suddenly popped up out of a tawny bag slung across their side. You yelped in surprise, losing your balance on the icy road and toppling forward. You winced, bracing yourself and preparing for the inevitable impact– except right as you were about to hit the ground, one steel-clad arm shot out to grab your wrist while the other steadied your hips. You gasped at the warmth of the unexpected contact, pulse quickening as you stared at the–man? person?–beneath you, the only thing preventing you from a nasty collection of bruises appearing across your side tomorrow.

A deep baritone sounded from the helmet– likely modulated, from the slightly grainy tone. “Are you alright?”

Definitely a man, then. You pointedly ignored the butterflies that stirred to life in your stomach at the sound of his voice, praying that he would attribute your shiver to the cold and nothing more. Stars, this was getting more embarrassing by the minute. You tucked away the thought, making a note to do some serious soul-searching later on about the depth of your touch-starvation and its potential impact on your mental state.

You gave a quick nod, muttering your thanks and carefully rolling to the side as you dusted clumps of snow off of your trousers. You looked up at him to see him gently picking up the little green creature you’d been so startled by earlier and tucking it back into the bag, pulling his cloak over its head to shield it from the chill. That was… rather cute, actually. You thought Mandalorians were supposed to be scary fighters, dedicated to nothing but their Creed, but this one was clearly fond of the small thing clinging to him. You couldn’t blame him; the green creature’s big ears and bug eyes were adorably endearing.

The cold winds picked up pace, and you wondered why anyone would be out here during such a storm as you got to your feet. Anyone local would have sought shelter hours ago, and no freighter would dare to land in such conditions.

“Are you... lost?” You tentatively asked. “Can I help you find someone?”

The Mandalorian remained silent for several long seconds, helmet tilted slightly. Whatever he saw in your face seemed to have settled well with him, and he released a quiet huff through the modulator.

“I need to get food. For my son,” he eventually admitted, gesturing to the baby peeking up at you.

“Oh!” You brightened up considerably as you remembered the flavorful soup you’d started earlier. “Well– I work in a cantina back there,” you said, pointing behind you at the rusted door that led to the kitchen.

“We’re technically closed right now, but I’m sure I can work something out.” You winked at the curious child, smiling as he let out a happy babble.

The Mandalorian’s helmet hadn’t moved from its focus in your direction, and you suddenly felt nervous. Which seemed stupid, because–yeah, it felt intense, but was he even looking at you from behind the dark visor of his helmet? For all you knew, he was making the most ridiculous expression at you behind all that beskar and you’d never know. The absurd thought made you snicker softly. If no one could see your face, you’d definitely act goofy at people all the time.

The Mandalorian’s head tilted slightly, and whoops, he’d definitely noticed your little moment now if he hadn’t been paying attention before. Your face reddened and you quickly gestured for him to follow you as you unlocked the door to the kitchen, relieved when you heard the soft clink of his armor come through the doorway behind you.

You placed your hands on your hips, surveying the dimly lit cantina and deciding to lead the duo to a worn table close to the bar. It looked unassuming, but the chairs were the comfiest in the cantina and you figured the baby would appreciate something softer than the coarse bag he’d been in.

Once they’d gotten settled in, you set about finding a mug of blue milk for the kid and some water for the Mandalorian. You brought the drinks over to the pair, hiding a smile at how eagerly the little green baby reached for his.

“You’re pretty thirsty, huh?” You observed as the baby slurped up the cerulean beverage. Shooting the tall, beskar-clad man a glance out of the corner of your eye, you continued, “Must have been quite the trip. Most people don’t usually travel to this side of the galaxy for vacation.”

To your disappointment, the Mandalorian remained as still and stoic as ever. Well, that just wouldn’t do. He was your first visitor in years from anywhere outside of Nath, and you were absolutely not letting him leave without getting a bit of juicy detail on life outside of your current drudgery. You decided to go for another angle.

“You know, kids need good role models in their lives. Ones that show them how to socialize with others and communicate. Display generosity of the loquacious sort, even.” You shrugged innocently in your best attempt to mimic the overly casual air the old women at the tea shop always used before passive-aggressively attempting to set you up with their stay-at-home-nephews. “Never too late to start.”

You got the distinct feeling that he was laughing at you under that helmet. Rude. Huffing, you sat down across the table from him and crossed your arms, trying to guess where under his visor his eyes were. Once you were half-confident that you’d found the spot, you stared intensely at it with your most intimidating expression. Which wasn’t saying much, seeing as you had the firepower of a soggy Lothkitten and probably came off as more desperate than anything.

“Isn’t there some sort of honor code for Mandalorians? One that includes being noble to strangers and whatnot?”

No response. Argh.

“Well, I’d consider it pretty noble to provide a lonely soul such as myself with a bit of storytelling entertainment on this frigid evenin–”

Your final attempt at prying some information out of the armored man was interrupted by the sound of the kitchen timer beeping increasingly louder and louder until you were sure the whole cantina was vibrating with the tinny noise.

“KRIFF, not again!”

You bolted out of your seat towards the kitchen, but not before you heard a thinly disguised huff of amusement coming out of the modulator. Okay, he was definitely laughing at you.

Once you’d successfully saved the soup from imminent destruction-via-cursed-stove and somewhat regained your pride, you finally made your way back to the table with three steaming bowls of noodles. You placed the smallest one in front of the child, who cooed happily and immediately began plopping his hands in the bowl. The Mandalorian huffed in exasperation and began prying little green fingers out of the bowl. “Hey. Quit that, we talked about this,” he grumbled. You winced as broth sloshed out of the bowl, landing dangerously close to the baby’s tunic. The kid’s lower lip started to tremble, a blaring warning sign that a tantrum was going to occur in approximately ten seconds if he wasn’t distracted from his current petulant state.

“Oh– hey, bug, don’t do that,” you said as both father and son turned to look at you. You leaned closer to the wide-eyed baby and pointed to his bowl. “That’s pretty hard to scoop up, yeah? Look, there are easier ways to eat it,” you explained as you brought the bowl up to your lips and raised an eyebrow, hoping that he would do the same. The kid blinked up at you for several long seconds before turning to his father with outstretched hands. The Mandalorian sighed, but held up the dish as requested. You hid a smile behind your bowl at the sight.

“Good job! Okay, now we’re going to try something fun–” You mimed slurping up the soup with a silly face at the baby, who burbled something incomprehensible in response but finally followed your example and focused on his food.

When you were sure that the baby’s clothes were no longer in danger of being drenched by broth– and by extension, frozen stiff whenever the pair headed back into the storm–you quietly tucked into your own meal, closing your eyes at the warm memories the comforting flavours brought. Not for the first time, you missed the earthy smell and placid weather of your homeworld, a stark contrast to this icy prison of a planet.

“You are… good with him.”

Your eyes darted up to find the Mandalorian’s helmet angled directly at you. Your face heated at the observation and you gave a small laugh, willing yourself to resist fidgeting under his gaze.

“I– thank you, I’ve always liked kids. Used to volunteer in the nursery back home, actually, before the Empire stole every resource from it they could.”

Your eyes widened with sudden realization. “You’re not Imperial, are you?”

The Mandalorian scoffed vehemently, the most emotion he’d displayed since he’d fallen back in the alley. “No.”

Well, that answered a few questions at least. You were prepared to move on from the conversation when he hesitantly spoke, “My ship ran into a few… asteroids. Is there a mechanic nearby?”

You set down your spoon, thinking. The closest asteroid field was four solar systems away and almost entirely inaccessible if one was traveling through hyperspace, so the likelihood that he’d truly run into one was small. In that case, he probably had damage from some kind of fight— seeing as the average pacifist wouldn’t need that much armor— and would want someone reliable who wasn’t going to ask questions about laser-sized holes in his ship’s hull.

He hadn’t tried to kill or rob you yet, so you figured his personal tussles were none of your business and decided to give him an honest recommendation. You directed him to a small mechanical hub close to the ice huts where there were few ships and even fewer nosy citizens. “The owner, Sanna, is the best in town,” you admitted. “I haven’t had the chance to visit her personally, but she’s known for being very discreet.”

He nodded, entering the coordinates you’d given him into some sort of device on his wrist. You tried to contain your pleased expression at correctly guessing his reason for being on Nath. And it had only taken you… well, four tries, but that was better than nothing!

“What is your price?”

You blinked, confused. “My price?”

There was that increasingly frequent head tilt again. His helmet tipped forward, scanning you. “For the food. And information.” He clarified slowly.

“Oh,” you spoke, surprised. “It’s okay, I was making dinner for myself anyway. And you’d have found out the location of the mechanic from someone else eventually,” you shrugged.

You couldn’t see his face, but from the disbelieving tone of his voice you imagined his eyebrows to be raised. “Not many people would turn down credits.”

You winced, reminded of your costly dream to get off-world, but there was no way you’d accept this stranger’s money for such a small favor when he had a kid he needed to provide for. “Yeah, well. Guess I’m not most people,” you laughed sheepishly.

The Mandalorian muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like no, you definitely are not. You squinted at him accusingly.

“Hey, you better not be making fun of my interrogation tactics, metal man.” You leaned forward to poke his soup bowl emphatically. Hm, that was strange– he hadn’t so much as touched it. Did Mandalorians follow some kind of special diet? You resolved to look that up the next time you had access to a datapad.

“Wouldn’t dream of doing that to a lonely soul like yourself.” He responded dryly.

You gasped in mock offense, forgetting your previous train of thought and internally groaning that he’d remembered that part of your disastrous attempt to weasel information out of him. Yeesh. Not your most eloquent moment. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you cared,” you shot back in the most syrupy-sweet tone you could muster.

The kid grinned up at you with sharp teeth and blew a soupy bubble towards your face in response. You smiled down at him, adding, “But if you really want to repay me, then bring me back a good story about this little guy the next time you crash land through a— what did you call it? Asteroid field.” You highly doubted the duo would ever willingly return, but if making a deal gave this man peace of mind to know his imaginary debt was settled in some future way then so be it.

The lights in the cantina began to flicker and you got up with a frown, walking over to the electrical box behind the bar. The dull grey display, crammed with incomprehensibly labelled switches and flashing lights that would give anyone a headache, alerted you that the main generator had been depleted of power. You scrambled over to a window, prying open the shutters a crack only to be met with a dark swirl of snow that completely obscured your view of the street. Stars, the storm had worsened quickly— there was absolutely no chance you were making it home tonight. You slammed the shutter closed and turned around with a grimace that didn’t go unnoticed by the Mandalorian.

“What is it?” He questioned, modulated voice growing wary at the expression on your face.

“We’re running out of power, the main generator’s down from the storm so these lights are going to have to shut off soon. I think there’s enough in the emergency generator to heat the cantina through the night, though.” You hesitated, not sure how to break the bad news. “Unfortunately, the weather is— unmanageable. You’re not making it out of here to the mechanic’s until the blizzard lets up.”

He didn’t respond for a few seconds, so you continued talking. “I was.. planning on sleeping here tonight.” You muttered, trying to think of a plan. You glanced at the sleepy child resting on the Mandalorian’s beskar chest plate. “I usually keep a couple blankets here for that reason— pretty sure there’s enough to cover the baby, but you might need to be okay with sharing.”

You worried your bottom lip between your teeth, searching your memory for where the emergency supplies were kept. Kriff. How were you supposed to know that you’d be snowed in, and with guests no less? Your grumpy boss really should have put instructions for this type of situation in the closing shift directions instead of the usual “sweep the floors” or your personal favorite: “if the customer creates a corpse, they gotta clean it up themselves”.

The Mandalorian interrupted your musings with a firm, “No need,” gesturing to the charcoal cloak fastened around his pauldrons. You eyed it dubiously, but supposed that the material looked thick enough. That was probably to your benefit, anyway, since you were something of a notorious blanket hog and didn’t think he’d take kindly to having his sheets ripped off him in the dead of night. That seemed like a quick way to wake up with more bruises than you went to sleep with.

“Well— alright then,” you sighed at last, tossing the smaller of your blankets to the man and tucking the other into the side of a nearby booth. “I’ll shut off the lights in a moment. Refresher’s that way, if you need it,” you pointed to the end of a dimly lit hall. The Mandalorian nodded once, then returned his attention to carefully cocooning the child in his lap. You set to work fluffing up your own makeshift bed, folding the cleanest dishtowel you could find into a pillow before trudging over to the light switch and enveloping the room in darkness.

Quietly feeling your way back to your booth, your eyes adjusted to the pitch-black little by little. You pulled your hair out of its messy updo and curled up on the seat, body slowly relaxing. It was strange, hearing the muffled rhythm of breaths coming from lungs that weren’t your own, but oddly soothing in its own way.

“G’night,” you mumbled, half-asleep already, consciousness swirled down the psychological drain by the overpowering storm raging outside. The lull-and-hitch of the baby’s soft snores echoing off of solid beskar set you drifting off to sleep faster than you had as a child, so lost to the world that you were sure you dreamed the quiet, belated whisper that sounded back to you.

taglist: @magpiencrow @that-kid143 @lilly-aliyah @itmustbegreattobecalledtheitgirl

comment if you'd like to be tagged for any of my works/fandoms in the future! :)

read on: part ii

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baldwin2001 · 7 months

Text

WARNING. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. SORRY FOR THE MISTAKES.

"Let go of me!"

"Silence, you shameless woman" said the gentleman without letting go of her arm while his other companion held her by the other arm.

"You will never silence me!" - she said with a hateful look. - "Let me go!"

Suri was being taken to King Baldwin IV after it was discovered that the red-haired Templar knight was actually a lady, and the other knights did not hesitate to take her to the king to have her head cut off, it was disrespectful for a woman to dress up as a man and fight with them.

"Your Majesty" - spoke a Templar in a loud voice.- "We bring you a shameless woman who has pretended to be a Templar knight."

"A woman?" asked the king.

"That's right, yes, your majesty."

The highest ranks of Jerusalem and the Knights Templar were together with King Baldwin IV, who was in the center of the place. They were meeting to discuss the assaults on the Muslim caravans near the city, which had been worrying everyone for a few weeks.

Upon arriving at the place both knights threw her to the ground, in front of the king, leaving her exotic red knight in sight.

Instantly Baldwin recognized her, he sighed stressed.

It was Suri, his beloved.

Despite the great love he had for her, he could not deny how reckless she could be.

"Lady Suri Sahar, the most stubborn and foolish woman I know" said Tiberius, noticing that this was the young red-haired girl he had known since she was a naughty little girl.

"Lord Tiberius, you know I am a great warrior, please. Let me stay with the Knights Templar and go fight against Saladin" begged the red-haired woman in front of the king's confidant.

"Arrogant woman!" The man who brought her was furious at her words, and was about to silence her with a blow, until the king himself spoke.

"Stop."

And the room fell silent, all looked to him; the leprous king. Wise and loyal before God and the people of Jerusalem, but damaged by leprosy since he was a child, that did not prevent him from being a great ruler.

"Lady Suri, you are permanently out of the Knights Templar" the monarch spoke firmly.

"But your majesty...!"

"Nothing!"- exclaimed Baldwin without a hint of kindness.- "Many of us in this room know of your skills with your back, they are magnificent. But to dress as a man and go to a showdown in Egypt is delicate."

"I am very sorry, your majesty. I will accept your punishment, even if this is banishment from Jerusalem or.... Death" Suri said trying to sound sure of her words, but at the end you could hear the fear in her voice.

Baldwin thought about it for a moment, she used to be rebellious and stubborn, he thought she was just going to apologize but banishment? Even...? Death? It was unthinkable, she would never do such a thing to her crimson flower.

"Tiberius, take her to my chambers, there I will tell her what her sentence will be."

Murmurs began to be heard throughout the room because of the king's words, but no one dared to raise his voice against the king, except for one.

"Your majesty, how can you say such a thing" -spoke Reinald of Chatillon with indignation- "She committed a grave act, she must be punished by death, the most faithful knights want her head."

"Silence!" -Baldwin rose from his throne, and spoke loudly.- "I am the king of Jerusalem, the highest authority. You nor any knight will choose your punishment or when, only I. Understood?"

"Yes, my king."

There was fear in his voice but also hatred, hatred of being humiliated again and again by a leper like him.

The meeting was adjourned. The monarch turned and left. Tiberios took Suri by the arm and they both followed the king. He looked angry because of his way of walking, quick and precise steps. He did not deign to look at her.

"My lord, I am sorry. I know I played with your trust..." a shout was heard in the corridor.

"You don't know anything" at last he looked at her, she was stunned.

She was stupefied.

He had never yelled at her. He always did silly things and sometimes made her hair stand on end from stress, and only got a few scoldings from her. He was always the serious and responsible part of the relationship, but this time it was different.

"Come" -he took her by the arm and led her to her room, without first giving Tiberios a glance- "No one is to enter."

"Yes, my lord."

He slammed the door shut, and began to walk around the room. Although I couldn't see his face, his blue eyes said it all, he was angry.

"Baldwin, I'm sorry" the redhead muttered.

Baldwin completely ignored her comment and walked over to her and grabbed her shoulders.

"Do you know what you just did? Do you even know?"

"I went to Egypt to fight like the warrior I am, I was very helpful." - The young woman spoke firmly before the king.

"You could have died, Suri" Baldwin said angrily.

"I know, my king."

"Are you aware of all the damage you would have caused me if that happened?" -he asked, sighed for a moment and then looked at her with concern. -. "When I saw you being brought by the knights like that I knew something was wrong."

"The last thing I want to do is to worry you" she commented sincerely.

On this occasion she was speaking the truth. Many times she liked to have fun with Baldwin, being a bit naughty. But this was not one of those, she had been of help in Egypt, because in addition to knowing how to handle the sword, she was good with medicine and first aid, managing to help many knights so that they did not go even with God.

The young monarch took her by the cheeks, staring at her through his mask, his blue eyes crystalline because of everything that had happened.

"I love you, Suri" - he whispered close to her lips - "I don't want to lose you."

"That's not going to happen, Baldwin. I swear" - she moved even closer to him, leaning her head on his chest, managing to listen to his heartbeat- "I love you too, how you have no idea."

"Promise you won't go to war."

"But Baldwin..." she blurted out, a little bit complaining about what her lover had said.

"Promise me" - she said almost in supplication.-"I just want you to be safe."

"I promise" she said resigned to his words.

"Thank you" she murmured close to his ear before giving him a soft kiss on his unruly hair.

#edward norton #baldwin iv #king baldwin iv #baldwin iv x oc #baldwin iv x reader #the leper king #leper king #kingdom of heaven

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kvrokasaa · 7 months

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karasu comforting overachiever!reader with a lot of anxiety?

my exams are around, ive cried 6x and had a mental breakdown in 3 days. and im a good student at heart but not on paper. im trying😭

take care! love❤️

I can relate to this sm, I promise myself that I’ll study but then it gets late n all I wanna do is sleep lmfao. But I hope you’re doing alright, love. Remember to drink lots of water and eat lots of food! And take breaks when studying so you don’t get headaches!

Sorry I posted this so late, but here it is.

Cw: crying, fluff, comfort, friends to lovers, cursing, not proofread. lmk if i missed any!

Wc: 1.1k

Overachiever!

Karasu is like your best friend, he’s always been there for you and promises he always will. Even when he left for a program called Blue Lock, he still managed to talk to you. Especially when you were going through a nasty breakup with your ex. He has always been there for you.

Something Karasu noticed over the years of being your friend; you’re an overachiever and a perfectionist. You have to get good grades, it’s like it was hard-wired in your brain since you were a child. If you didn’t get a good grade, even on a test that was optional or didn’t have any impact on your overall grade, you would feel so ashamed and full of anxiety. You were afraid of your teachers hating you, honestly, you’re just afraid of authority figures. You would always try to hide your feelings behind a fake smile, and sometimes it worked. But this time it didn’t.

You were in your room studying, all day long. No matter how many times people tried to pester you, or ask you to take a break, you would decline and go back to studying. You needed to get a good grade. You had stayed up all night long studying and going over the crucial information that would be on the final.

So why? Why do you have an 84% on your final? Why isn’t it at 100? Other people congratulated you, saying that the test was really hard. But you know that Mia, the top student, got the perfect score without even trying.

You tried this year, you really did. You made a resolution that you would try your hardest this year; that you wouldn’t give up so easily like last year. And you know that bad habits die hard, but you were doing so well. Even though this isn’t your last year, you feel like you failed at school.

‘Take a deep breath. Failure is the one pathway to success.’ Karasu’s words came floating into your mind. But you could still feel the onslaught of the tears and the tightness of the pain in your chest. You tried to take a deep breath but it wasn’t enough, it felt like all the oxygen in the world just vanished.

You don’t know how you got home, all the memories of the people saying ‘Good job’ and ‘Don’t beat yourself up, you did better than me’ are the only ones you can remember. All you want to do is crawl into your bed and cuddle your stuffed bear while you cry. But you have to study more; you have to study for your next classes. You can’t just give up because of one class. Oh but how badly you want to.

A sudden knock on your door pulled you from your thoughts. “Come in.” You cringed at the crack in your voice, quickly you straightened your posture and pretended to be okay.

But all of that faux hope and happiness faded away when you saw the unmistakable blue eyes. The tears came rushing back, along with the shaky breaths.

Karasu walked over to your desk and smiled down at you. “Hey, just wanted to stop by,” his hand raised, revealing a bag with your favorite restaurant name. “I brought your favorite.” His voice died down, almost to a whisper when he saw your tears.

You quickly wiped them, but the red streaks were still there. He sighed and sat down on your bed. “It’s okay, Y/n. Stuff like this happens, don’t worry about it too much.” You shook your head. “No, I should worry about it,” he raised a brow. “Why?”

You felt a little agitated because he couldn’t understand. Of course he couldn’t, he’s always been the type of person to get good grades without even trying. Knowing him, he probably slept through most of his classes and still got a 95 or higher on his final. Typical Karasu.

“Because who would I be if I don’t have good grades? I know that grades don’t matter much in the world, but I’m the one who feels the shame. I’m the one who has to remember what it feels like to try your hardest and still fail.” You felt like pulling your hair out, breaking things, just something to ease your mind. To ease the pain.

He brings his hands up to your cheeks, squishing them a little which brings a smile to his face. “Remember what I always tell you. ‘Failure is a pathway to-’ ” “To success. I know that, but still,” You move your head, making him release his grip. “I don’t want to fail, I don’t want people to remember me as the person who always failed.” Your voice was almost higher than a whisper, but he still heard you loud and clear. Karasu could hear and feel the pain from your voice.

“You-” you release a shaky breath, trying to calm yourself down. “You wouldn’t understand.”

‘Ironic’ he thinks, you’re the one who’s not understanding. A simple grade doesn’t define who you are as a person.

“Y/n look at me.” He grabs your face, “You are doing your best, you’re trying your fucking hardest and I’m so proud of you for that. You’re way smarter than what people give you credit for.” You try to shake your head, but his grip on your jaw tightens. “No. I don’t want to hear you deny anything. You need to understand that it’s okay to fail, it’s okay to feel helpless after a bad grade. But it’s not okay to beat yourself up. Don’t worry too much about how this grade, which is a passing grade, will affect your future.”

Karasu pulls you in for a hug. You close your eyes and bury your face in his chest. “You’re in the present right now, not the future. And I’m sure the future you are a CEO; trust me I can see it.”

You both laugh at his words. You sniffle and look up at him, “thank you, I really needed that.” He nods his head; his eyes looking from your eyes to your lips. “Anytime, I mean it.”

This is what you expected, a lecture and comfort from Karasu. It’s what you wanted. But what you didn’t expect was his lips on yours. Before you could enjoy the moment, he pulled back and smiled down at you. “Safe to say that I think you return my feelings,” your eyes darting everywhere but his and your little nod was a good enough answer for him. “And as much as I want to kiss you again. Our food is getting cold.” He pulled you down onto the bed along with the bag of food. “Let’s eat.”

#bllk x reader #bllk #bllk x you #blue lock #bllk karasu #karasu tabito x reader #karasu tabito #bllk fluff #bllk comfort #tabito karasu x reader #tabito karasu #tabito x reader

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ak319 · 19 days

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Yan G!P Princess x fem reader

(Your name is Deniz in the story)

PART V ➺ PART IV

(YOUR POV)

"Princess here!"

"Princess Kade , here!"

"Where did you both first meet?!"

"Is our new princess in the castle?!"

"How long I’ve waited to hear these questions, to see the desperate anticipation in every man, woman, and child’s eyes about my marriage with you. The day they would be dying to know about you, about us."

That’s what she said. She released the article, just as I expected. So, I lost. I finally lost. And I would have lost no matter what.

It’s been two weeks since... I can’t even bear to say or think about what happened. But yes, two weeks, and I’m still stuck in this damn room, watching her answer questions with such delight. The lies she’s telling, as if she’s trying to craft a fairy tale. And she’s done it. She told them how she first saw me playing and was captivated by everything—my sportsmanship, my personality, my beauty. Then, when someone asked about her previous failed engagement with Juniper, she outright denied even knowing her and excused herself, slamming the car door. That means she’s coming back to the palace—probably to spend more time with me here.

I would just sit in the corner, ignoring her as best I could while she tried to talk to me. But she still remained, informing me about the commencement of the arrangement and how she had spoken to her assistant to arrange some classes for me—ranging from media etiquette to royal protocol. At first, I cursed at the mere idea of it, but when she said I wouldn’t be allowed to use my phone, I had no choice but to comply. But I’ll make sure to make those classes as miserable as possible. Let’s see how long the teachers last.

My parents went back home and will be invited back for the wedding. I video-call them daily now that I have the strength to. Ever since the incident, I had been blaming them, even though I knew it wasn’t their fault. I just needed time. Clara and Leo finally picked up my calls, but not from my phone--from the palace’s telephone. Yes, apparently, Kade ordered this too, and I had no choice since the calls from my phone are still blocked. It’s just another way of monitoring me because Kade knows Clara could help me somehow. But I also know that if I tried to ask for help, it would only create problems for Clara. So, in the end, I could only cry during the calls while she cursed Kade and her family non-stop.

The door opened after a subtle knock, one I knew all too well. Why is she even bothering to knock? It’s locked from the outside. Kade entered the room with her usual air of authority, her tall, statuesque figure clad in a form-fitting black turtleneck that highlighted her regal bearing. Her hazel eyes, sharp and observant, flickered with a mixture of contentment, control and...concern?

"Good morning, love. Hazel informed me you skipped breakfast again. You shouldn't skip meals like this. I don't want you to faint when you're walking down the aisle. I care for you, alright? For your health. And I know you definitely don't want me to force feed you." Yep. I'd rather kill myself.

"Well forgive me Your Grace, for not eating due to getting literally , kidnapped."

"I am not having this conversation again." She slumped against the couch.

"Ever thought about how I don’t want any of this either?" I watched her jaw tighten as she turned on her laptop and started working on her project, as if my words meant nothing. She always sits in this room to study, turning it into her own workspace. She even had the nerve to ‘introduce’ me to her friends on a Zoom call once, pretending everything was perfectly fine.

Ignoring my complaint entirely, she announced, "The wedding is in August, so you’ve got one month to adjust. Your classes start next Monday."

I decided to play her game and ignore her right back.

"Kade, what will happen if I kill you right now?"

"Death sentence, love." She responded nonchalantly, flashing me a quick, almost amused smile. I scoffed and leaned back into the sofa, staring out the window. "In a way, we’d be reunited," she added with an unsettling calm. God, this woman is next-level delusional.

"If you could be even a tiny bit positive about this, I might consider taking you outside."

"I’m perfectly fine here," she sighed, her eyes still glued to the screen. "Are you sure, love?"

"Yes. Very." I stood up and headed to the bathroom, seeking a brief escape from her presence. When I returned, she was still there, now on a group call with her legs propped up on the table. She gave me a quick wink before turning her attention back to her work.

I decided to use my phone while she was occupied. When she finally left, I knew she'd be back for supper and then dinner. I groaned into the pillow. The door couldn’t be locked from the inside, there was no LOCK! It was clear she’d planned this meticulously, which only made it even more stomach-turning.

As I settled in with a book, a knock at the door interrupted me, distinctly different from Kade’s.

"Can I come in?"

Who the hell--wait a minute. Is that... Princess Romana?! My future sister-in-law. NO! EW! Stop thinking that way! How did I even think of that-?!. I quickly shook off the unsettling thought and answered with a hurried "yes." I had no idea if she’d be as crazy as the rest of this family, but something in my gut told me she was different. I only knew a little about her from the media, she lived in Windsor with her own family, not here in Buckingham.

The door clicked open, and she walked in, looking just as confused as I was.

"Seriously? Whose idea was this?" Before I could even register her question, she muttered to herself, "Who am I kidding—of course it was that sister of mine." She turned to me, her expression softening. "Anyway, um, Deniz. Nice to meet you. I’m Romana, if you-"

"I know, Princess Romana... hi." Damn it, why did I interrupt her? Forget it. Why does it even matter?

"Can we have a talk, if you’re comfortable with that?" She folded her arms and gave me a polite smile, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I felt a sense of warmth. She felt like... home. Maybe because she was the first person I’d interacted with besides Kade.

"I-y-yes." I cleared my throat , trying my best to hold back my tears.

"Thank you. Please, have a seat." I moved to the edge of the bed, facing her, still wary of her unexpected appearance.

"I'll be honest with you, okay? And don’t be scared of me. Be as open as you want to be." She paused, her gaze fixed on her folded hands in her lap. "I read the article and was shocked at first, but then I was happy and decided to call Father about this sudden news because my dear sister wasn’t picking up. Then I got a call from someone here, someone loyal to me, who filled me in on the whole-" She licked her lips, searching for the right word-"situation."

That was the final trigger for me, and I let my tears flow.

"God, I am so sorry for what they did to you. What my sister did. I just can’t wrap my head around all of this. It’s bloody diabolical." She gave me a moment to collect myself, her eyes brimming with sympathy and regret.

"Look, Deniz, the situation between Kade and me has been complicated. We started off with a strained relationship, but as we grew older, things improved significantly. We eventually became quite close. I am thoroughly aware that she has a tendency for being stubborn. My father, as you might expect, has always had a special fondness for Kade, which has influenced many of his decisions. I wish I had known about this earlier, I would have done everything I could to intervene. Though, given his position as King, it might not have made a difference."

"It’s not your fault... it was mine."

"No. Don’t blame yourself. This is what I’m trying to explain. Kade has a habit of getting what she wants, and this time she’s gone too far. I had a huge argument with her when I arrived. She shouldn’t have done any of this. But now-" She sighed, her expression heavy with regret. "The articles are out, the press is all over it, the situation has spiraled out of control. As much as it pains me to say this, the marriage is going to happen."

It felt as though my heart was being slashed once again, and all I could do was absorb her words, powerless and numb.

"I wish I could make this better for you. Right now, all I can offer is the small comfort that Kade has failed as a person, but there’s a slim chance she might be a good partner." I shook my head violently and stood up, pacing in front of the window.

"God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. The reality is, you will have to leave this room eventually and confront the world she’s created outside. I’m not trying to manipulate you or play some sort of Stockholm syndrome game, I’m just stating the facts."

"You don’t have to keep reminding me," I snapped, frustration seeping into my voice. "She comes here every day to make sure I know just how much she’s made my life a nightmare!"

She ran a hand through her sleek black hair and nodded. "I understand. But Deniz, I’m here for you. My wife, Adelyn, is too. We’re both with you. You can call on us anytime, we’re staying here for the time being." She approached me with a somber look. "I’m like your sister, okay? You can trust me. Now, come on. Let’s go outside."

Her words sounded reassuring, so I nodded in agreement.

"Can you gimme a few minutes?"

"Of course. I’ll wait outside." She offered a comforting smile before stepping out. I sighed and wiped away my tears as I sat down to gather my emotions. I felt a bit better than before. The fact that I cried not only from my own situation but also because her presence reminded me of my family touched me deeply. She seemed genuinely honest, a stark contrast to the insufferable Kade. God, why did my stalker have to be a fucking princess? At least a normal person might have faced arrest.

(Kade's POV)

"So, you met my sister?" I was relieved to see you finally eating. It pained me to think of you outside walking with Romana and my sister-in-law as I came back from the gym, but at least you had opened up to someone here. Still, I hated it that it wasn't me.

"What did you two talk about, love?"

"Nothing. Nothing that concerns you." It should fucking concern me. But I’ll let it slide for now, I don’t want you to go silent again. I need to keep you talking. I trust Romana to some extent, but I hope she didn’t poison your mind against me. My fists clenched under the table as I thought about how Romana seemed to have it so easy. She married the love of her life without the struggles I had to endure to be with you. But then again, what kind of love is it if you didn’t have to fight for it? It was such a bittersweet feeling.

"Look, it’s not like I’m keeping you a prisoner here. You could have gone out into the gardens any time."

"Well, I don’t think the lock on my door agrees with that statement." You slammed your spoon down on your plate, your frustration evident.

"Deniz, love, that lock isn’t meant to imprison you. You’re volatile, okay? I can’t have you breaking everything in the palace like—like you did in our room."

"Oh, how marvelous," you retorted, sarcasm dripping from every word. "Are you still not over that? Must be so, so hurtful, right? Even more painful than being forced into a marriage? Tsk. God, one can never fathom the daily struggles of Princess Kade."

I couldn’t help but chortle at your biting sarcasm. "God, Deniz. You’re still the same."

"And you’re even worse," you shot back, your voice laden with exasperation

"I wonder what or who made me like this, hm~..."

"Yourself, Kade." I shook my head, catching a glimpse of Julian returning from his jog over Deniz’s shoulder.

"Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that you’re free to do whatever you want here, except vandalism. Also, I need to discuss our honeymoon trip-"

"Fuck no, Kade." I grabbed your wrist as you tried to head back inside, my frustration evident.

"No, Deniz, we are having this conversation. It’s important."

"NO! EW! How can you even suggest I go with YOU—"

"DENIZ!" I sighed in exasperation, seeing you flinch. God, this is tougher than I thought it would be. "Deniz, love, I just want you to read the schedule. Nothing more, nothing less. You can make changes if you want. I won’t say a word. I promise."

"Well, then cancel it altogether! That is what I WANT!"

"You know that’s not possible. Now please—" You swatted my hand away from your wrist and flopped back down into the chair. "Thank you. Richard." I grabbed the file from him and slid it towards you, which you snatched with your usual resentment. "Don’t ever touch me like that."

I swallowed another wave of pain and annoyance. 'No, no, no. Kade, you have to endure this. I know it’s painful, but it will get better over time. Just focus on how cute she looks reading it and how you can’t wait to take her as your wife'.

(YOUR POV)

The days began to blend into one another, thanks to the interminable classes I was subjected to. I did my best to irritate the teachers, but they remained astonishingly patient. I had never encountered such patience before. Clearly, Kade had trained them well.

Gradually, and unfortunately, I was also taken by Kade to spend time with her family. Thankfully, Romana and her wife, Adelyn, provided a calming presence, along with their adorable 4-year-old son, Idris. I knew I was, in a sense, surrendering, but what choice did I have? I was still aware, as evidenced by my panic attacks. I would never forget what Kade had done to me, no matter how loving she appeared now. I only wished she could understand that.

As my headache returned, I stumbled to the bed, desperately hoping to awaken from this nightmare the next morning. Instead, my mind replayed memories of my previous life, Kade's conversations, Romana’s reassuring words, the King's disapproving glances, and the Queen’s pitying looks. The upcoming interviews and the wedding itself loomed over me. I turned the pillow to the dry side, though it was already damp with tears.

"Just rest, Deniz. Close your eyes. It will be okay. Shhh...just call your parents first thing in the morning."

The earlier walk with Romana replayed in my mind.

"Can you get me divorced from her in the future, then?"

Romana stopped and turned to face me. "That would be possible when I become Queen. I could grant you permission. But that time seems far off, and..." She sighed. "There are other factors to consider, including Kade’s own consent."

"Fuck everything."

"Indeed." Adelyn gently patted my back in sympathy.

Part VI

(AN: Kade be like - but still loving it.)

(Meanwhile the reader)

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