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tiredmamaissy · 1 year ago

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Ralak te Sepawn ieyk’itan: Special Episode V

Something is Brewing

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's insanely talented creator @zestys-stuff. Thank you so much for allowing me to play around with your characters!

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (25) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (20)

Warnings: explicit pregnancy smut, pregnancy fluff, pregnancy angst [for the plot], pregnancy [this chapter is entirely about pregnancy if you haven't caught my drift, just giving you guys a proper warning], age gap, mood swings, cravings, nausea, vomiting, reader is very clumsy, intimate/invasive medical treatment, rut cycle, sexual tension, pregnant sex, p in v, titty fucking, cum eating (m and f), oral sex (m and f), masturbation, exhibitionism (kinda, not really), lactation kink

Word Count: 17.5k (this takes the cake, i apologize)

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Hey guys! Thank you all for being so patient with me as usual. I had planned to post this chapter earlier, but with the help of @zestys-stuff, we made a last minute change to the chapter. This will definitely cause some changes in the next chapter, so I’m going to work on that right away. I won’t lie, I’m really nervous to publish this one. It's been a while and I’ve ventured into some new territory where I’ve introduced a couple of new themes and -drumroll- a new character. There are parts of this chapter that can possibly cause discomfort (technically, all of this could), so I urge you guys to proceed with caution and click off if you do feel uncomfortable in any way. Aside from that, it’s good to be back (again, lol) and I hope you enjoy!

Synopsis: A timeline of your pregnancy with Ralak’s child, shown through a series of flashbacks of your most prominent milestones—some of which foreshadow something bigger to come…

<- Previous -> Next

Pregnancy is tough.

A beautiful blessing, but tough nonetheless. With its own set of hardships, uniquely tailored to your own being. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. A sore back, chest, ankles…the list is seemingly endless. The shift in moods, the fatigue. Adjusting to an entire new being growing inside you—one that sucks the nutrients straight from your bones and blood—has your body overcompensating.

At first it was a dream.

No life-changing symptoms. It was smooth sailing for the first few weeks. Life went on as usual. If anything, others were more reactive to your pregnancy than you were. Your skimwing became aggressive towards Ralak, snapping at him and whipping her tail, treating him as a threat rather than a companion. He was more than understanding, as it’s common for the protective instinct to kick in when the tsurak senses their rider is with child.

More importantly, it was an urge that Ralak shared with the beast.

—

You watch as your tendrils intertwine with your skimwing, and how they come together with a rough tug. You let out a rugged breath and the beast beneath you starts to writhe. Ralak instinctively grasps at the harness to steady you and—

Slash.

Your trsuak whips her spiked tail at your mate, who blocks it with his strake.

“Shit.” You gasp, tugging at the leather strap and patting her neck to subdue her. “I thought I was in control. Are you alright?”

Ralak nods, his hair now soaked and plastered to his chest. He simply chuckles, respectfully and cautiously approaching the beast with an open hand. Despite this, your tsurak continues to thrash, repeatedly snapping her snout open and shut. Ralak clicks melodically a few times, and her pupils blow and constrict as she calms down. He strokes her snout with one hand, and lays his other on your thigh, gripping it lightly.

“She senses that you are with child.”

“She does?”

“Yes. That is why she protects you. I understand the feeling.” His accent is thick on his tongue.

——

Then the nausea came. It was… unbearable. Insufferable. It was almost frightful, actually. Not being able to stomach anything really brought down a sense of dread upon your shoulders. Most days, you found yourself worried about the budding life inside you more than yourself.

Was he getting enough? Would he develop properly if you went another day without eating?

Ralak was more worried about you, of course. Going to great lengths to find something you could stomach. Spoon feeding you as you laid down all day from the gut churning nausea. Washing the sick out of your hair when you missed the bucket at your bedside. Detangling and braiding it for you to keep it clean and out of your face. Releasing his pheromones—your only relief—just to put you to sleep at night.

—

t.w. nausea, vomiting.

In the crisp night, a wave of nausea washes over you, waking you from your sleep. Typically, this is the only time you have a break from the nausea—your slumber. That, and the first ten minutes after throwing up.

You quickly hurl over, grabbing and heaving into your bedside bucket, something that's rightfully earned its spot at your side. Ralak jolts awake, sitting up behind you to gather your hair into his fist, rubbing your back as you retch.

“Alrigght.” He hums lengthily. “Get it up.”

Finally, you stop. You gasp and pant for air, sitting up only to collapse back into him. “I h-hate this–haah.”

“I do, too.” He grits, reaching over you for the rag at your bedside, and wiping your mouth.

He hates seeing you so sick. He’s tried it all, and though he’s found a few foods that you can stomach, nothing seems stops the nausea. Well, that’s not entirely true.

Ralak relaxes his body, focusing on opening his scent glands to release his his pheromones. They slowly become stronger, calming you down and dulling the waves of nausea. He pulls you close to his warm body, reaching behind him for his kuru.

“Tsaheylu.” He whispers yearningly, making the bond slowly. He sets a steady breathing pattern, slipping his hand over your tiny bump to caress it. The sickening feeling eases up enough for you to drift back to sleep, Ralak along with you.

——

Thankfully, Eywa lifted you of your säspxin [sickness] when you were about to come upon your third month of pregnancy. Cravings increased ten-fold almost instantly. On the occasion where you couldn’t keep it down—when the desperation was too much—you’d volunteer Ralak to eat it for you so that you could satisfy the craving vicariously through him.

—

“Eywa, that’s so good. One more bite.”

“Tanhí. Enough now.” He grumbles, feeling overly stuffed and almost queasy.

You glance down at the purple hue of your connected kurus.

“Please...” Your eyes burn as they threaten to well with tears, and your bottom lip quivers, “…last one, promise.”

Ralak sighs, shoveling in another bite of boiled squid, chewing it slowly so you can savor the taste. You keep your eyes closed as he eats, tongue swirling in your mouth to swish your pooling saliva in your cheeks. And when he swallows, you swallow too, gulping down your spit.

“Thank you.” You say shyly as you open your eyes, feeling bad for making him overeat now that you can really feel his fullness.

It is my pleasure. Never feel bad. His accented voice tickles your brain. A smile spreads across your face, just as one does on his.

——

And when you could keep it down, they were delightful when satiated. Keyword being satiated. It posed an issue when they were what Ralak called, ‘forest food’, or on a more rare occasion—‘sky people food’. Those were the insatiable ones. The ones he couldn’t just whip up for you. The times he'd come to you with his ears laid flat to his skull, admitting his defeat. Those were the moments where you felt something stronger than just disappointment.

It left you gutted.

—

You can’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. They’re hot and leave a sticky film on your skin, clumping your eyelashes together. It’s stupid. They’re stupid. Stupid tears, from a stupid cause. All because you want your grandmother’s stupid soup. Another thing the blessing of pregnancy has bestowed on you—big, intense feelings.

As you soak in your bath, Ralak cooks dinner and you just know that whatever is in the pot is something that will make your stomach churn. You bury your face in the palms of your hands, trying to keep your snotty sobs to a minimum. It’s ridiculous, sobbing over something like this. It’s shameful, even. How can you be so ungrateful when this man goes to such lengths to care for you?

“Tanhì!” You hear his rough voice echo from the pod.

You quickly wipe your face clean, and scramble for your loincloth and top, slipping them back onto your body. Finally, you fix your hair and force a smile to your face. As you get up to the marui, you’re met with the sight of Ralak stirring the soup pot over the firepit. Then the smell hits you. Typically the first thing to set off your nausea to begin with. It smells like—

Grandmother’s soup.

You stare at your mate wide eyed, taking a deep breath to savour it in your lungs. Outside of Ralak’s scent, nothing has smelled this good in months. And you swear you can already taste it on your tongue, the savoury flavour with the sweet aftertaste.

“I asked your mother. Hope that is okay.” Ralak speaks casually as he serves you a bowl.

As you let out a harsh breath, your eyes burn as the tears come back with a vengeance. You sniffle once, twice—thrice, whimpering quietly as they roll down your cheeks. Ralak looks up at you, concern and honestly a smidge of confusion fixed to his face. Putting the bowl down, he stands and comes over to you, enveloping you in his arms.

“I do not like to see you cry.” He hums, kissing the crown of your head. “Is it the smell? I will make you something different.”

“N-No, no. It’s… it smells great. I’m sorry. I—I” You sputter, burying your face into his chest.

“Then what is it, tìyawn [love]? What do you need?” Ralak cups your face and gently tilts your head upwards so he can look you in the eyes. “Tell me and it is yours.”

“Thank you.” You croak, feeling your bottom lip curl over and kiss your chin. Now his facial expression is just pure confusion. He tuts in a comforting manner, pulling you back in close to his chest as he waits for you to settle, rocking side to side.

“Alright, my little one. Shh–shh.”

——

Soon after, that soup pot made quite an appearance. It became your favourite dish, your favourite craving. Ralak made it just like grandmother, for the most part. There were a few omaticayan herbs missing, but outside of that it tasted like…home. At that point, you felt like you had this pregnancy thing down pat and could return to a semi-normal life.

Everything was relatively the same, except a few obvious things—your growing bump and lack of heats. That was also a blessing, not having to go through a torturous heat every month. Though, you couldn’t say that for Ralak.

As you neared the end of your third month of pregnancy, his pheromones grew stronger, wafting by you at random times of the day. At first you thought he was just doing it for you. Or, perhaps it was your heightened sense of smell.

But the day came when his scent was so potent, it was as if it had stained your lips. There wasn’t a moment where you couldn’t smell the scent of your mate under your nose. That was the night you realised it was out of his control. That it was his rut coming. That was the night you confronted him at the bonfire.

The night he looked at you like you were something to eat.

—

Right…there.

You catch the flicker of his eyes just before he lowers his head, shifting to that deep shade of blue. He keeps stealing a glance or two. Maybe even three, or more. It’s hard to keep count when he’s looking at you like this.

is piercing eyes, sultry and alluring, tempting you to crawl through these roaring flames just to get to him quicker. His demeanour. His stance and posture. His domineering leer. Whatever he—or his body—is doing, is working.

He sits on the boulder, elbow perched on one thick thigh and a hand propped on the other. His hair covers his chestpiece, curled ends barely brushing against his defined ribcage. His bioluminescent freckles dance under the moonlight, his turquoise skin almost golden from the cast of the fire. It’s all so intimidating. He’s exuding dominance, practically looming over you despite him being seated. But there’s something about his aura, something darker.

“I can feel it, you know.” You speak casually, uncrossing your legs.

Ralak’s eyes snap up, boring into yours. He cocks a brow, keeping his eyes locked on you as you stand and walk towards him.

“Your rut. It’s close, isn’t it?”

This would be your first, real rut with him. Without the influence of your own heat. Ralak huffs a sigh, his eyes falling to the small bump that’s in his direct line of sight. Ralak watches as it seemingly grows bigger the closer you get.

“You are showing.” His hands gently rest on your lower abdomen. Holding his shoulders, you slowly straddle him.

“Answer me.” You whisper as you cup his face, tilting it upwards to make him look at you. “I want to be with you… and before you say it—” Ralak grits his teeth as he turns his head away, out of your hands.

“No.”

“Ralak. I am your mate.” You retaliate through tight lips. You knew this would pose an issue.

“Y/n.” He growls, turning his head to look you in the eyes. “You know my rut. Must I remind you that you are with child? It is final.”

“I do know, and that’s why I won’t let you go through that alone, ever again.” Though your voice is stern, he can hear the tenderness in it. That this comes from a place of concern and love.

“I will not be in control.” Ralak admits as he shakes his head firmly, flicking his gaze back down to your belly.

“Look…I made a plan.” You basically confess that you’ve been conjuring up ideas on how to endure this together all day. Although his eyes and hands remain fixed on your tummy, Ralaks ears perk up. He’s listening.

“How do you feel about…being tied up?”

Now you’ve got his attention, eyes snapping up to meet yours. The idea of being tied up isn’t entirely foreign to him. It’s something that his people use as a punishment for those who do wrong. He’s not opposed to it. Having a rut so intense is probably something to be punished for, anyways.

“Hands behind your back…bound to the marui stilt. I will be the one in control. I will take care of you.”

You take his hands from your stomach and tuck them behind his back, your face now millimeters from his. Ralak fights the urge to kiss you. To free his hands from his back to grab your hips and shove your further down onto his growing bulge.

“...feed you…water you…bathe you.” Your voice falters as you swallow your spit. “...fuck you.”

“...that so?” He whispers against your lips, heart thudding wildly behind his ribcage.

You look in his eyes, and see that they tremble with constraint. He can’t hide it, the look on his face gives it away. He’s really struggling to think straight. To keep his answer as a firm no. And it doesn’t help that he’s on the cusp of his rut. He yearns to accept. Every fibre of his being wants this–wants you. You see it in his eyes, as they flicker like the flame behind you.

He just needs a little push.

“We’ll take it slow…gently.” You roll your hips into him and feel his cock straining against his tewng. You lean in close, lips brushing against his as you speak into his mouth. “And, if anything happens… we’ll stop. No knotting.”

His ears twitch. He’s considering it. Really, actually considering this. But how could he? How could he expect this of you in your state? He squeezes his eyes shut, frustrated and conflicted. And aroused. So fucking aroused that when he feels your lips drag against his cheek, your tongue tasting the lobe of his ear…your breathy whisper, “Pänutìng [Promise].”, he lets out a heated, shaky breath of defeat. Of surrender.

That seals the deal.

—

Not now. Not yet. Ralak thinks to himself, fighting his urges.

The urge to mate—to pin you down and drive himself inside you. He must remain in control. For you. For your unborn. He sits on the floor, slumped against the stilt of the marui, bowed shoulders and a heavy, hung head. His skin, flushed, and eyes swollen—glowing a vibrant mauve. His hair haphazardly sticks to his sweltering skin as his hands lethargically twiddle with the braided twine behind his back.

Groggy, you strain to open your eyes and quickly scan your surroundings. Ralaks pheromones cloud the room, engulfing you with their overpowering scent. As you sit up, the bed creaks and Ralak lifts his head, allowing it to flump limply back into the stilt. Extra lidded eyes and tensed brows, he breathes through his mouth. He wills himself to speak, but he’s heavy and sluggish as if he were three bottles deep.

“Ralak.” Your voice is wary and full of concern. Your eyes continue to trail down his body, landing on the undeniable, taut bulge in his loincloth. His cock strains against the fabric, precum completely soaking it through. “How long have you been like this?”

“Few hours.” He croaks out a dry throat.

“And you didn’t wake me?” You hastily make your way behind him, slipping to your knees to take the twine from him.

Fuck. There it is. Your scent...driving him over the edge. Wafting past his nose and making him woozy in the head.

“Tie me.” He demands. For a moment, you’re frozen in place by his tone, unable to move your hands and fingers. “Quickly.”

The edginess in his voice startles you, causing you to fumble with the twine. You take a breath and begin tying the knot as he taught you, weaving the twine with itself, tugging at the ends to close it.

“Tighter.” He snaps at you, making your ears lay flat. You pull the ends even tauter, witnessing the twine pinch the thin skin on his wrists.

“Shit—sorry. Didthat hurt?” You go to loosen the knot, but he pulls at the restraints, making it even tighter.

“Leave it.” He grumbles, tugging yet again, ensuring it’s unyielding.

Because the closer you get, the harder he finds it to resist. He needs to know that he can’t get out—that he can’t hurt you—before he loses it completely. And with that delicious scent seeping from your neck, he feels himself slipping under.

“Are you sure? I can tie you after you drink some water and have a—”

“No...haah—now.” He growls, dropping his head causing the rest of his hair to flow forward and cover his face. “…need you now.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, heating them up and flushing them over. You can even feel your heart pumping it harder–faster. It’s hot in here, but even hotter now that you feel yourself heating up too. It’s his rut, influencing you like some sort of drug. You can barely control your breathing, much less think straight. But you told him that you’d be the one in control, the one to care for him.

“Mawey, ma’ muntxatan [Calm, my husband].” You whisper close to his ear, giving the knot a final tug. “What kind of mate would I be if I did not care for you first? Hm?”

You shuffle to your feet, and walk away, newly widened hips swaying side to side with temptation. He’s taking in the show through the cracks of space between his clumped together strands of hair, unable to look away no matter how hard he tries. Knowing this, you bend over, lifting your tail to expose your clothed mound to him. You swear you can hear a hiss seep from his lips, and that brings a smile to yours.

Teasing him is one of your favourite things to do.

You scoop up some water into the cup, and bring it over to him. Using two fingers to his chin, you tilt his head back, revealing the famine in his inebriated eyes. They’re glossy with need and desperation, begging you to take his ache away.

“Alright, alright.” You coo softly, sinking back to your knees. “I’m going to make it go away. Now, drink for me.” You bring the cup to his lips, tilting it carefully as he gulps it down thirstily. A few drops dribble down his chin and onto his already glistening chest, rolling down his unflexed stomach.

Tossing the empty cup to the side, you bend forward and lick the beads of water up his stomach, to his throat, to his lips. His arms jerk reflexively, wanting to cup your face as your lips lock with his.

Throwing a leg over his lap, you straddle him, pressing against the bulge in his sticky tewng. You cup his face instead, deepening the kiss to have a taste of the potent desperation on his tongue.

When you pull away, your noses brush against one another and you feel woozy in the head. His rut is beginning to affect you now. Which isn’t all a bad thing if you want to be able to keep up with him for the next couple days.

Your hand smoothes over his jawbone to the nape of his neck, where you gently grip the base of his kuru. His ears immediately lay flat to his head, reddening at just the tips. Running your hand along its length, you bring the end of his kuru in front of him.

“Going to make the bond.” You warn him breathily, bringing forth your queue as well.

At this point, Ralak is huffing for air and sweating profusely. It looks as if he’s nearing his peak already. This only reaffirms that you’re making the right decision by making tsaheylu—you need the direct influence of his tìsom [heat].

When the tendrils intertwine, you come together with a sharp tug and gasp. Instantaneously, you sink into a hazy state, heating up from within. Your breath syncs with his, and suddenly you’re panting too.

“Ralak.” You moan softly, grinding into him for a bit of friction.

You can’t stop your hips from snapping, and your loincloth is almost completely soaked. He throws his head back into the wooden stilt, looking at you through lidded eyes as he lets loose subtle groans. He looks more than hungry. He looks starved.

With trembling hands, you search for the knot of his loincloth at the base of his tail. After a bit of scuffling, you untether it and shimmy his tewng down his hips and off of him. Up springs his aching cock, veiny and swollen. It’s so obviously neglected, glossy and sticky with his slick, so uncomfortably hard that it’s already pulsing as it stands firmly pressed against your clothed cunt.

“Fuck. It’s… even bigger.” You’re taken aback, unsure of how exactly you managed to take this inside you last time he was in rut. Then you notice the red tinge of colour on his cockhead, especially where his ridges stand erect. “D-Does that hurt, karyu?” Bump in the way, you shift your hips back to reveal what exactly you’re talking about. “Need your numeyu to take away the pain?”

The giant remains silent, but his cock jumps in response, oozing out another large bead of precum. Using your pointer finger, you trace the length of his cock, swollen balls to his pointed tip, collecting that fresh bead of slick on the pad of your digit. He watches intently as you pop your finger into your mouth and suckle, swallowing his semi-sweet essence. His brows knit tightly together.

You know this is nothing short of torture to him. And though you have every intention to take the ache away… when would you get another opportunity like this? Where this giant is tied down and unable to resist the pleasure you bring him. Where you’re completely… in control. Fuck, you’ve never felt like this before. It's exhilarating. It’s a feeling of power. Of dominance.

A smirk pulls at your lips.

You begin to pull yourself to your knees, brushing your swollen breasts against his lips. His tongue darts out, eager for a taste. Looking down, you cup one breast with your hand, and guide your stiff nipple into his mouth. His lips pucker over it, closing once they make contact for a vacuum seal.

Your breath hitches when you feel his tongue tickle the sensitive tip of your nipple. His teeth graze against them as he tries to do this handsfree, and you let out a low hiss. Soon his movements grow erratic, being bound to the marui stilt is starting to frustrate him.

“Ah-ah. What do you need, karyu? Just tell me.” Your voice is feigned with innocence. He breathes heavy against your chest, keeping quiet as his focus is purely on getting his fill. “You won’t get anything from them.” You tsk, tugging away little by little, until eventually you pop off his mouth.

You continue to rise to your feet, dragging his lips along your swelling tummy, until he’s eye level to the band of your tewng. You can feel his eyes pierce into you, his stare is anything but discreet. It’s intimidating. Your hand flies to the back of your loincloth, fiddling with the knot to untie it.

“Is it this?”

The cloth drops to your ankles, exposing your flushed cunt to him. It’s pink and hot to the touch, undeniably aroused. Your scent grows stronger with each passing second, filling his lungs. It’s driving him insane—being able to see and smell, but not touch. His rut is only making him more irritable. He just needs to fuck into something and spill himself inside.

His eyes glisten over an even brighter shade of purple, locking onto their meal. He wets his bottom lip with a quick swipe of his tongue as you take a step closer. You cup his jawbone, tilting it upwards to look down at him. The sight is… intoxicating. His lidded eyes, blown pupils that are threatening to roll to the back of his head. Tensed brow bones and damped, slightly parted lips—not a drop of composure left in his features.

That new feeling rushes through you again, making you take two more steps forward. Your bare cunt brushes against the tip of his nose, officially branding it with your scent. He leans into you, closing his eyes and straining his neck to indulge himself.

Your thumb smoothes over his jaw before your hand slips to the back of his head. You fist his hair and yank his head back, sending his eyes flying open. With your free hand, you spread your pussy lips, exposing your swollen clit. It’s sticky and in need of attention, throbbing occasionally as you tug your hood back.

“Now, suck.” You demand breathily, slowly guiding him by the head to bring his lips to your clit.

You clench around nothing when you feel his heated, slippery lips pucker over the stiffened nub, sucking gently. Sharp eyes bore into yours before they roll back, leaving nothing but the whites exposed. Lids finally fluttering closed, he sucks a little harder, tips of his canines accidentally nipping your supple skin.

“Ss—fuck.” You hiss, hips snapping back with force, popping off his mouth with a sharp sting. Frantic fingers rub away the tingling sensation as you grit your teeth. You shuffle your feet to ground yourself as you tighten your grip on his hair and hold his head still.

“I know you’re in rut, but be good to your muntxate [wife].” You warn through your teeth before shoving his face back into your cunt.

This time he feasts with greed, groaning like a starved man. Eating, like a starved man. He’s slurping and sucking, lapping up your slick as it coats his tongue and lips, enjoying every second of your reign.

“Oh—oh shit. Fuck. Right there—” You moan breathlessly, free hand flying to his head to fist his hair, using it as leverage to keep him just where he is.

Before you know it your hips are moving on their own, humping at his face as you hold him tightly with both hands. With each thrust you shove him further back into the stilt, until the back of your hand is repeatedly hitting its surface.

Until you’re hunched over him, looking him deep in the eyes as you grind into whatever part of him your clit is rubbing against. He expertly holds his breath as he allows you full control to fuck his face as if you were the one in heat.

Because with each roll of your hips he feels it too.

He feels the jolt of pleasure that shoots through you when his tongue hits your clit in that special spot. When the tips of his canines graze your swollen folds. The feeling is all consuming and he’s whining into your cunt from the over—and under—stimulation. His cock shifts to a shade of purple, jumping each time you thrust into his mouth.

‘Sorry, Ralak. ‘m sorry.’ You think to him through tsaheylu, feeling the burn in your own lungs now.

“Haa—ah, fuck. Thrust. Fuck. Thrust. F-Fuck! I’m gonna cum—in your—ngh!” Your voice quavers as you come suddenly undone in his mouth, holding him firm and still as you rock your body into him.

His eyes slam shut and his brows knit tightly together as he grunts repeatedly into your cunt. He tugs harshly at his restraints and his heels dig into the woven floor. Yet still, you hold onto him even tighter until your pussy stops fluttering.

With a loud, shaky gasp, you yank him away, letting go of his hair to grab the marui stilt to stop your trembling legs from giving out beneath you. Ralak wheezes loudly, shoulders heaving harshly as he frantically pants for air. His face is bright pink, flushed and glazed in a layer of sweat. He opens his eyes but they’re so heavy that you can barely see the colour in them.

“Rutxe [please].” Ralak begs through a desperate groan, flicking his stare downwards. And when you look, you’re met with the sight of his still-throbbing cock, covered in his sticky, thick cum. Shiney beads still ooze out and dribble down his length and onto his swollen, firm balls.

His first word was a plea of help.

Your heart aches in your chest. How could you let yourself go so far with your little bit of power? To be so selfish. And here he was, in so much discomfort and yet you put your needs first. Leaving him so neglected to the point his body makes the release for him. Is this how he felt after he unleashed six pent up years on you in a couple days?

Pent up years of suffering.

“Shh. You’re okay, my love. You’re okay.” You whisper as you slowly squat down. “I got you. I’m going to make it…” you hold eye contact with him as you lower yourself onto his cock, aligning his tip with your sopping entrance, “…all better now.”

You wince when his cock slowly penetrates you, mewling a little higher with every inch you manage to take. The stretch is almost unbearable. This is the first rut you’ve spent with him without being in heat.

No foggy haze to dull the ache.

No emptiness to be filled.

And it doesn’t help that your womb is already so full.

Your mewl quickly turns into a whimper when your bodies become flush to one another. Ralaks head slumps back into the marui stilt and he heaves a loud, lengthy moan of relief from being buried deep inside your warm cunt. You feel so good around him, making his cock heat up and twitch inside of you.

Snaking your arms around his neck, you hold onto him as you frantically try to adjust to his size. It’s dawning on you exactly what you’ve gotten yourself into, and that you’ve seriously underestimated his rut. A sense of uncertainty begins to tighten your stomach but it quickly dissipates when you hear Ralak’s second plea.

“Rutxe, ma’ tanhì..” Ralak mutters with a pained, gravelly voice.

Without another word, you move your hips up and down, dragging his length along your gummy, slick walls. Your movements are sloppy and uncoordinated, you’re not used to doing most of the work much less all of it. With his hands tied behind his back, you can already feel the burn in your thighs and the throb in the tips of your toes.

Regardless, you keep moving your hips.

Bouncing up and down on his cock, pressing your forehead into his in a poor attempt to steady your position. That little sting slowly morphs into something of pleasure the more your hips meet his with a slap. And soon all you can hear is smack, after smack, after smack. The noises that split his lips tell you all you need to know. He’s feeling good and that’s all that matters.

But exhaustion hits you quickly—unexpectedly. His cock is buried to the hilt inside you, and the more tired your legs get, the deeper it drills inside you, pressing harshly into your cervix. Your legs are trembling uncontrollably and you can barely catch your breath, leaving you no choice but to lazily rock back and forth on his cock.

Ralak lets out a grunt and bucks his hips.

“Haah!” You yelp.

Ralaks ears lay flat, lips pursed tightly into a thin line. He can’t hold back his frustration any longer. He’s growing impatient. If he didn’t get his real release soon he may really lose it. He’s grunting through his nose and tugging at his restraints, bruising his wrists. You feel him shift his hips up and shove his cock as far as he can inside you.

“Ngh! I-It won’t go any deeper!” Your voice strains as you try to lift yourself up. But he just keeps pushing until his feet are grounded. And then his hips drop, pulling his cock half way out of you.

Thrust.

Ralak slams his cock back inside you, drilling deeper than he was before. Your mouth falls open as all the air is forcefully expelled from your lungs. As you suck in a gasp of air he thrusts inside you again. And again. And again. Until he’s rutting into you in a feverish frenzy, chasing his climax as if it were prey. His thrusts turn relentless, leaving you breathless with each buck of his hips.

“Fuck—fuck—fu—” Your voice bounces with his thrusts.

You look down, met with eyes that are empty yet heavy with appetite. He’s in the thick of it and he’s no longer all there. He’s purely instinct now and the only thing holding him back from pinning you down and having his way with you is the twine wrapped around his wrists.

You can’t lie and say that you aren’t enjoying the look on his face and the break from the burn in your thighs. Stars sprinkle your vision as you’re overwhelmed with the immense pleasure he’s slamming into you. He’s fucking you into submission and you’re mind is borderline blank. His groans are primal and guttural, and they grow louder with each hysteric thrust.

“Want to knot.” He huffs suddenly—desperately. You can feel his thick knot poke and prod at your entrance, his thrusts now sloppy and erratic.

“Fuck, I—” You know you shouldn’t, no matter how hazy his rut is making you feel. “W-We can’t. I’m still ea—rly.” But he’s too busy watching himself fuck you in a daze, drenched with sweat. “Ralak…” You grab his face, tilting his chin upwards so he looks you in the face. His gaze is hollow yet his features are tense. “…are y–ou hear–ing me, la–k?”

“Need to breed.” He growls as he fights against his restraints. He doesn’t ease up on his tussle with the twine, sweating and panting as he desperately tries to force his knot inside you.

“Shit.” You mutter, coming to the quick realisation that he can’t stop himself. “Wait, wait, wait—”

Your hands fall from his face to his stomach, pushing down in a panicky attempt to lift yourself off him. But his rut is making you sluggish and weak, so you make the quick decision to sever the bond with a rough yank.

Snap.

“Oh, fuck.” You curse under your breath.

The twine breaks, and his arms fly forward, hands making impact with your hips, fingernails digging into the thin skin. His grip is unyielding as he holds you down firmly on his cock. You feel him throb inside you as he attempts to plug you full with his knot.

“Lak! Ralak, h-hold on!” As much as you actually want to, you can barely take what’s inside you as it is.

“Submit.” He rasps, top lip curled tight to his teeth, baring his canines.

“I—I’m pregnant.” You whisper quickly, voice hoarse and strained.

Immediately, his movements cease and his eyes flick down to your tiny bump, then widen when he finally realises. In one swift, sudden move, he lifts you off him and uses your swollen pussy lips to hug his cock and finish himself off. He rocks you back and forth like a rag doll at the mercy of undying grip, growling and grunting.

His head drops forward when he outright howls. You look down and witness his mushroomy head pulsating feverishly, spurting out his load in thick ropes, all over his stomach and chest. All whilst his engorged, throbbing knot pulses against your slit as he cums, earning some well deserved comfort and warmth.

Ralak sputters as he tries to catch his breath, hands still glued to your hips. The fog still clouds his mind but it’s less blinding now. He’s just about capable of acknowledging what just happened. To acknowledge that this was risky, and could’ve ended badly. That, if you hadn’t said something to him, he would have knotted you without mercy.

An uncomfortable silence passes between you, where you’re both breathing heavily and staring at one another. You both share the same thought—the same realisation. His rut is too aggressive for you to handle right now.

“I must go.” Ralak looks away as he breaks the silence, wanting to take advantage of his release before the pressure builds yet again. He’s clear headed enough to leave without turning back and pouncing on you.

“No, don’t… we can try again.” You say softly, hand cupping his jawbone, turning him to face you. You feel terrible that he may have to spend this rut alone, that you couldn’t fulfil your promise—your duty as his mate.

“I almost knotted you, y/n.” His eyes gloss over with guilt, his hands finally peeling away your bruised hips.

“But… you didn’t. You stopped yourself—”

“And if I do not leave now… I will.” Ralak growls inches away from your face.

You’re a little taken aback by his bluntness, but you know it’s the truth. And it’s final. No matter what you say. No matter how it makes the flesh between your legs throb a little more. You nod, keeping yourself quiet.

“I will see you in a couple days. I love you both.” Your lips meet briefly before he carries you to bed and readies himself to leave. You watch in silence, murmuring an “I love you, too” under your breath when he exits the marui.

—

As time passed you grew more angsty, unable to keep in one spot or focus on a single task. All that ran on your mind was Ralak and how he was probably suffering all alone. All because you failed to do your duty as his mate. The guilt was almost sickening, having you dry heaving into your bedside bucket a few times for the rest of the day.

Until later that night.

You rub in the thick, oily concoction on your belly, getting ready for bed. The sound of the marui door flapping open startles you, making you jump in your skin and clutch your stomach. You’re not expecting Ralaks return so soon.

A silhouette stands tall at the door, his bioluminescent star pattern unmistakable.

“Ralak? Oh, Ralak. Eywa. You’re back. I should have made dinner. I thought you'd be gone for a while longer. You must be so hungry. You—” You speak urgently, eyes flicking down to his tewng, which is seemingly damp, “—was it too much? …are you alright? Let me help you, lak.”

“Tanhì.” Ralaks cuts you short, voice trembling slightly, yet full of relief. “It is done.”

“…what?” The question is breathy.

“My rut.” Ralak says as he makes his way towards you, scooping up a glob of your special concoction. He sits next to you, and begins massaging it into your back. “You have fixed me.”

You come to the realization that he's talking about his rut finishing earlier than usual—like that of an average na'vi.

“You were never broken, my love.” You moan softly, closing your eyes to enjoy the massage.

Ralak then rests his chin on your shoulder, smoothing his hands down your back and around your abdomen—rubbing what's left on his hands onto your swelling belly. His touch prickles your skin, sending the tip of your tail swishing.

“I live for you.” He mutters with a thick accent, nuzzling his face into your neck. “I will die for you.”

Your heart skips a beat when you hear his words, he must have really been suffering for the past six years. You feel your face heat up, and you try to fight the smile balling your cheeks. You opt to drop your head and hide your face instead, resting a hand on his thigh.

“Well. We won’t have you doing that.” You giggle, rubbing his upper thigh as you turn your head to glance at him. “…the last part, that is.”

But he just looks at you, face still as stone. He speaks sternly.

“I will.” He speaks sternly.

You swallow your spit, tempted to drop your head again as you take in the gravity of his two words. You nod, searching his eyes with yours as you close the space between you. You hover open mouthed against his lips.

“Me too.”

——

Time waits for no one.

At least that’s how it felt. You had ballooned overnight, round and a little heavier as you embarked on your sixth month of pregnancy. His kicks grew stronger and more uncomfortable. But it was Ralaks favourite thing to feel before bed.

You found yourself spending most of your days bouncing between your marui and your family’s marui—paying your family visits more often. They grew fond of the idea that there would be an addition to the family and it became a regular thing for you to seek refuge there when Ralak was roped in for his ‘duties’. Which seemed to increase in number the further along you progressed.

Ralak had his daily duties—tending to the ilus, a few lessons, fishing... These were just the simpler tasks that you could say you knew for certain he did. But there were his ‘fkxaranga’ [stressful] duties’, as you liked to call them.

The ones where Tonowari would summon him with nothing else but a simple nudge or glance. The duties that were spontaneous. That stole precious hours of his time. Duties that left Ralak spent and on edge, reaching for his top shelf when he came home. Those were the ones you dreaded the most.

The ones like last night.

——

With a huff, Ralak chucks his gear onto the floor and roughly unclips his chest piece. His pointed tools are covered in some sort of thick, iridescent muck, shifting from green to orange as they rock side to side on the floor. It’s something you’ve been seeing recently with no idea as to what it is.

Ralak grunts, bringing your attention to his lips, which are slightly downturned. The more you take in the sight before you the more it occurs to you how exhausted this man is. His eyes are hollow, ears droopy, tail dragging heavily behind him. His muscles are seized up despite the bow of his shoulders—he looks as if he could use a massage.

“Manga [Hey, you].” You get up to meet him at the door, taking the chest piece out of his hands to hang up on the wooden stand. “Tonowari is working your tail off. Do I need to have a word with that man?”

He only works up a grumble as you lead him over to the bed. “That bad? What is he making you do? Hunt akulas? Eywa.”

Ralak sits down, face sinking into his hands before two fingers slip down to pinch the bridge of his nose. You climb up and settle behind him, huffing and puffing along the way. Your hands smooth over his back, thumbs pressing firmly into his muscles, kneading the flesh until you feel him loosen up.

Though the question sounded rhetorical, he knew it wasn’t. He knows you’re awaiting a response, the silence is loud and clear. You always want to know more about his day, fine details and all. And he’s usually reluctant to speak of it, but insisting it’s nothing for you to worry your head over. But recently, your inquisitivity is… well founded. And he knows it.

“Not quite.” He mumbles wearily into his palm, ears laid flat to his skull–although it wasn’t uncommon for him to encounter an akula or two whilst fulfilling the olo’eyktan’s orders.

You open your mouth to question him further, but you can tell that he’s more than tired. And it didn’t help that you were constantly needing his help, especially now that you’re growing heavier.

Going down the stairs is a struggle considering you can no longer see your own feet or keep your balance. You had been waking him up almost twice a night to help you down the marui stairs just to pee. He’d always be happy to help, though. He understands that this is what comes with the changes that are happening to your body that’s giving life to his child.

“Rest. Please.” You say softly, tugging at him to lie down in bed with you.

To your surprise, he actually lays down, assuming his typical position before dozing off for the night—on his back with a hand on your belly. You expected him to resist a little, insisting something or another.

He really, really must be tired. Your heart fills with something heavy. Something that makes you almost feel sick. Your brows pinch as you look beside you to see his tensed face relax into something of tranquility.

And a smile pulls at your lips when his eyes fall shut.

Dinner’s over the firepit—his favourite stew with extra mushrooms. The sound of it bubbling becomes louder as it thickens. With a quick, final stir, you take it off the fire and cover it to let it sit. You hope that this will help lift his mood when he wakes. You look over to him as he lays stockstill with softened features, breathing tidally.

Holding onto a supporting beam of the marui, you bring yourself to your feet and waddle your way over to him. You extend a hand to wake him for dinner but you hesitate. He needs this. And that’s when you make the decision to allow him however long it takes to rest. Even if it means that you speak to Tonowari yourself.

Night falls and the temperature falls with it. The glowing firepit keeps the stew and marui warm for the time being as you prepare for bed. You draw the curtains and glance over to your mate, who still remains in a deep sleep, tucked cozily under the blanket you covered him with. You drape the shawl he wove you over your shoulders, and make your way to the door.

A silent yawn splits your lips just before you lift away the flap. Your eyelids are heavy and the drowsiness is weighing on you tenfold. You have one last step of your nightly routine before you can crawl into bed next to your husband. And that's emptying the bladder that your son uses as a footrest. Plus, if you didn’t do it now, it would just be an additional trip in the middle of the night.

As you make your way to the door, the need to go becomes urgent. Perhaps it was all the water you thirstily chugged whilst eating, or maybe it's just the fact that you're already on your way there. Either way, you can’t seem to get there quick enough. Your movements turn hasty the second you get to the top step, hands clutching on the only thing available—your bulging belly. You’re looking down despite the fact that you can’t even see your feet.

Leaning forward slightly, you try to shift your stomach to the side to see your next step. You step down and feel your bare foot make contact with the slippery wood. Your toes press into its surface to ground you as you take your next step. You wobble when you get to the last step, and sigh in relief when you feel the cold, wet sand spill between your toes.

After wasting no time and doing what you came to do, you quickly make your way back to the marui. The tips of your ears and tails are just going numb from how cold it is and the night dew is beginning to form. You get to the bottom step, fixing your shawl so that it’s out the way. You make your way up the first, second and third step, but when you get to the fourth your shawl falls forward.

And so do you.

A blood curdling shriek rips from your throat when you feel your feet give out beneath you. Your hands splay out to grab onto whatever’s around you to break your fall but before you know it you're tumbling back down the stairs at a frightening rate. You keep on your side as best you can, landing into the sand with a muffled thump.

“Fuck. Shit—oh, great mother—” You mutter as you hyperventilate, clutching your stomach as you wait for your son to kick—to show you some sign of life. Your eyes well with tears as you rub your bump vigorously. Your heart is slamming violenting against your rib cage, so hard you can hear it over the ringing in your ears. “Please, please, please.”

…but nothing.

“Y/n?!” You hear Ralaks worried voice boom behind you, then his hurried footsteps down the stairs.

Maybe it’s his fathers voice, but your unborn son gives you one of the biggest kicks yet. You sob out a laugh, rubbing your stomach as relief flows through your body. You take a few deep breaths through your mouth to calm down, feeling another reassuring kick.

“Y/n. Y/n.” Ralak chants your name, eyes rapidly darting side to side to assess you as he kneels beside you. Concern’s etched deeply into his features as he lifts your arms and legs, searching for injuries.

“I’m alright. I’m alright.” You repeat urgently, but he continues to look, even taking off your shawl. His eyes are wide and he seems to be in some level of shock, especially after coming straight out of a deep sleep. “Ralak. Really. I’m fine. We’re okay.”

Ralaks features soften at your two final words. His stare falls to your swollen belly, hands taking the place of yours as he waits. After a few seconds of stillness, his eyes snap up to yours—refilling with worry. He begins to shake his head, and you reassure him with a hand to his face.

“Talk to him.” You whisper with trembling lungs. Ralak looks back down to your stomach.

“Maitan [My son].” Your mate says in a low, steady voice, ensuring not to allow even a hint of fright slip through. Just then, he feels a little nudge against the palm of his hand. Ralaks gaze snaps up to you and his expression relaxes, hands rubbing your belly gently. “How did this happen, tanhì?”

“I…needed to pee.” You say shamefully, avoiding eye contact. “…and I tripped going up the steps.” You glance up at him to see what you perceive to be a face of disappointment. “I’m sorry. I know, I’m so stupid.”

“No. Do not say that.” He interjects, tensing his jaw. “...you are heavy with child—why did you not wake me?”

“You were so, so tired. You needed to rest, and I did not want to disturb you.” You turn to your side to get up, wincing when a sharp pain shoots down your back.

“Careful.” He clears his throat, stopping you from trying to get up on your own. He watches your contorted face relax, but the heart wrenching guilt just gets worse. “You should have. Wake me for anything.” He says sternly, snaking his arms underneath you to lift you up. “Everything.”

“You really don’t have to—” Ralak continues, scooping you in his arms and holding you close to his chest. “I can walk. I’m all right, Ralak.”

You try to reassure him, shuffling in his arms to get down. But he only muffles out a sigh, glancing down at you with downturned brows and droopy ears. He then walks away from the marui stairs, to the direction of the water.

“Where are we going?” You ask quickly when you realise that you’re walking away from home. Ralak clicks for his tsurak, taking his time as he mounts it with you tucked to his chest. “Ralak.”

“To tsahìk.” He states, making the bond with his beast.

“Ronal?” You sound almost panicked as the idea of everyone knowing you fell up the stairs clouds your mind. It’s almost mortifying to think about. “We don’t need to do that, it’s really late too, and—”

Commanding his beast to go, you both take off at full speed. It doesn’t take long to arrive at the tsahìk’s healing pod. Many healers gather at the door when they hear the sound of Ralak’s low pitched call. And they rush out to meet him as he carries you towards them in a hurried manner. They usher you in, hushed murmurs growing louder and clearer as they bring you to Ronal.

You didn’t even notice the burning pain in your lower back until you were about half way here.

The Tsahìk stands upon your entrance, her crystal blue eyes widening when she sees Ralak with you in his arms. You wince as he lays you down where the healers instruct him to. She strides over to a woven basket filled with an array of herbs and needle-like wooden sticks, and quickly props it on her hip—just out of the way of her own bump. She settles herself beside you, feeling your stomach as she channels Eywa.

Ronal throws a look to Ralak, whose hands are on his hips as he waits patiently for the verdict.

“She fell.” He says, only for Ronal to cock an eyebrow. “Stairs.” He finishes. Then both her eyebrows raise, and she reaches for a jar of a ground up, purplish herb. She pours half of it into a wooden bowl, and activates it with a few drops of water from the spirit tree.

“Baby is strong. Very strong.” The Tsahìk announces, and both you and Ralak heave a loud sigh of relief. “But—” Ronal props your legs up on the makeshift table, spreading them slightly. Embarrassment flushes your cheeks as you look over to Ralak. “You are still at risk.”

Ralak moves closer to you, taking your hand in his to keep you calm. You both watch as Ronal rolls the fabric tightly into a small cylindrical shape. You swallow your spit when you realise exactly where that’s going.

“This ensures he stays. It will also help with the pain.” She states, glancing at Ralak to see the glare he’s trying to hold back. She shakes her head slightly and hands you the precautionary apparatus. “Insert. Rest…and remove at sunrise.” Ronal continues, drawing back the curtain to give you some privacy.

“Sunrise?” You whisper to yourself as you watch her step out.

Your eyes dart up to Ralak who is clearly concerned, staring down at you with worry in his eyes. Embarrassment heats up your cheeks and your nerves fray. Why are you so shy all of a sudden? He’s your mate. Your husband.

You sit up a bit more and try to see over your stomach to get the task done with shaky hands. You fumble and struggle with the flimsy cloth, blindly doing your best. But each time you lean forward the pain in your back burns hotter.

Ralak’s supporting you with a hand on your upper back, patiently waiting for you, noticing your trembling fingers and little grunts. He uses his free hand to cup yours, stilling your hurried movements.

“Mawey [calm]. Breathe.” He hums, gently taking it from you and helping you lay down.

You look him in the eyes as he inserts it carefully, wincing when the concoction stings a bit. Ralak gives your hand a light squeeze, speaking as if he had access to your thoughts. You nod, trying to smile through the burning sensation, but he picks up on your discomfort.

“What is it? Is it your back?" His voice quavers with worry.

“No… just burns a little.” You say quietly. You watch his jaw flutter and his shoulders droop as he huffs out a sigh. “Not to worry. It’s going away now.”

As he’s about to speak, the curtain is drawn to the side and Ronal comes in and stands at the arched entrance, hand on her hip. Ralak averts his attention to her, his eyes glancing down at her unborn moving in her belly. Although you were both six months pregnant, you were noticeably bigger than her.

“A word.” Her serious tone of voice brings him out of deep thought, and her nudging head tells him that it’s something urgent.

Ralak looks at you, not wanting to leave you alone but you smile and reassure him with a light nod. He clenches his jaw but you give him a gentle push towards Ronal. He squeezes your hand before letting go and leans in to plant a firm kiss on your forehead. You watch as he leaves, laying back and taking in the ripples in the curtain as you strain to hear their hushed conversation.

“Ronal. Oe irayo si ngaru. [Thank you]” Ralak begins, bowing before the shorter na’vi.

“I worry for your mate.” Ronal cuts to the chase, using her hand to guide him further away from the curtain.

“For what reason?” He asks, keeping his head hung to hear what she has to say. They walk until they’re nearly at the entrance of the healing pod.

“Your son is fast growing.” She speaks calmly but quickly.

Ralak is a little puzzled, although he doesn’t show it. Is that such a bad thing? He continues to look down at her with the same expression, listening intently to what the tsahìk speaks of.

“Her body will struggle. Birth will be hard. Very long and painful.” Now Ralak is having a hard time keeping his emotions concealed as they chisel themselves into his features. Yet he remains silent. “You must warn her about mun’i [the cut].”

“Pxasìk [no way/fuck that]” Ralak curses through a hiss in his native tongue as he stands at full height, figuratively and literally taken aback. How dare she call that upon his mate? Ronal returns a low hiss as Ralak moves away from her, staring down at her with a mixture of emotions.

Concern. Surprise. Fear.

Mun’i [the cut] is rare and risky. Only three have been performed since the birth of this clan, all done in desperation when hope was gone. The last one was performed by Ronal's mother herself. It is an extremely invasive procedure where the mother is cut and the infant is removed. It’s only done in dire situations, where the mother is incapable of giving birth to their young naturally, and risks dying in the process.

Ralak can’t help but feel a burning anger amongst the sea of emotions flooding him at once. How could she suggest such a thing to him? Something so dangerous and grave? All because you will give birth to ‘a different kind’. He’s more than confident that you’re capable of this, despite the murmurs circulating the clan.

He has always been aware of Ronal's perception of you, and her opinion about the mating. It was no secret, though she never outwardly told Ralak as he is like a son to her. She often insisted that you two were not compatible in more ways than one, and always saw you as the forest girl who needed special training. But to know that Ronal doubts your capabilities to give life ignites a flame in his chest.

One that he must quickly put out.

“Ralak!”

He hears you call out for him, prompting him to quell the flame and shoot Ronal a glare of displeasure. “She is stronger than you know.” Ralak speaks through his teeth before turning his heel to tend to you.

Heart pounding, he makes his way through the curtain to be met with the joyous sight of you cradling your stomach with a smile plastered to your face. That only further calms the flicker of the flame in his chest, making a smile tug at his lips. He sees you glance up at him, pearly teeth glistening in the luminosity of the night.

“Sorry if I startled you, it’s just—he’s kicking so hard. Come, come feel!” You blubber excitedly, reaching out for his hand to place it on your belly. He slowly takes a knee, staying still as stone to soak up each movement. “He is so strong, Ralak. Like you.” You whisper, looking down at your mate doting on your bump.

Though he should be proud of your words, he can’t help but feel a little nervous by them. If this child is really like him, then what Ronal said may have some truth to it. Yet he smiles, smoothing his thumb over your protruding belly button.

“He is strong like his sa’nu [mummy].” He says softly, perhaps in attempts to reassure himself and calm his own nerves. Your smile only grows and you place your hand on top of his.

“What did Ronal say?” Ralaks eyes snap up to yours, wide and almost panicked, wiping the smile off your face instantly. “Oh, no. Is it bad? Is something wrong?”

“No, no. She says…” He drops his head, watching his unborn move as he contemplates telling you. You need rest, and this would further stress your mind and body. Ralak urges himself to smile—to create a new mask—one of feigned happiness. “…you must rest. Wait until sunrise.”

“Oh, okay.” You exhale a sigh of relief, “Good. I—I can do that.”

——

After such an eventful night, sleep found you easily. Ralak carried you up the marui stairs, tucked you into bed and watched as your eyes fluttered shut. And even so, he remained at your side for some time, ensuring you were deep in sleep before embarking on his new task.

It began with a ‘quick’ trip inland for the right kind of wood. The kind that holds up well against the elements and the saltiness of the water. The kind that doesn’t have a slip to it when it's been wet for more than a few hours. It took a few trips to get it all back to the beach but it was more of an irritable task than a difficult one.

Ralak tried to keep as quiet as possible, spending the rest of the night—until sunrise—cutting and carving the wood, binding them together with twine, sap and wooden pins. And by the time the first few rays of sunlight beamed in, he was engraving his finishing touches.

—

Ralak chucks down the tool and it lands into the sand with a muffled thud. Using the back of his strake to wipe his forehead clean of sweat, he looks up at his work for a final time—railings for the marui stairs. Then the bright ray of sun shines before his eyes, standing between his two new creations.

You.

You’re surprised to see him out this early, still in his gear from last night. The realisation dawns on you that he’s been up all night, doing this. You can actually feel your chest warm up as your heart pumps the blood through your veins at an insane rate. It rushes to your cheeks, making them hot and flushed.

“Is this what you’ve been doing all night?” You ask the question under your breath, dragging a hand along the railing. It’s smooth under the pads of your fingers, and warm to the touch, as if they’ve just been filed down. You notice a small carving on the side of the railing—your son’s initial.

“Mm.” He grunts, not that he could have slept anyways. He glances at the initial that you’re staring at. “I should have done it long ago.” The shame in his voice is loud and clear. You look down at your feet, unsure of what to say, noticing that he’s redone the steps too.

“Ralak—”

“You must still wake me. Understand?” He cuts you off, already knowing what you’re about to say.

You take a step down, holding tightly onto the railing with one hand and the other tucked under your bump. He rushes up the stairs and supports you by the arm. You lean into him for a hug, nuzzling your face into his chest. “… thank you, my love.”

“Kea tìkin [no need (for thanks)].” He presses his lips onto the crown of your head, words muffled by your hair. His hand slips down your arm and rests on your lower back. “Still feeling pain?”

“No. I feel good. Like new.” You smile, watching his features soften and his lips pull into a subtle smile. “Your son, too. He kicked me all night.”

“Is that so, young one?” He leans down to speak to your belly as you watch intently, “you must be gentle with your sa’nu [mummy].”

As he looks back up to you, your eyes follow his every move. And suddenly it’s just the two of you, before the orange glow of the sunrise, sharing this intimate gaze with one another.

“Ralak… I see you.” You say softly, witnessing his pupils blow until there’s nothing but thin rings of blue.

He swallows, you see the lump in his throat undulate, and the balls of his cheeks stain a light pink. He blinks a few times, leaning in until his lips brush against yours. He lingers there for a bit, jaw fluttering as he grits his teeth a few times. He can’t help but feel a pang in his chest.

How could he keep this from you?

“Oel ngat kame, ma’ muntxate.” He husks the words before locking his lips with yours.

But as he pulls away, you see the glint in his eye. When he sees your lowered brows and inquisitive eyes, he attempts to fix his mask of indifference—no, happiness. But you see right through it—

The glint of guilt.

“What is it?” You ask, reaching behind him for his kuru. It’s your way of saying, 'no secrets'. He’s quiet. Uncomfortably quiet. Unsure of how to say what he should say. You urge him with a light tug to his queue, creating a little more distance between you to look him dead in the eye. “Ralak.”

“Ronal doubts…you.” He says plainly, trying hard to rid himself of the thought of childbirth taking you away from him.

“I don’t understand. What—what does that mean?” You ask, confused and worried.

“I should have told you about it when you asked.” Ralak says, shaking his head. “But…you were already under so much stress. In pain. Our son—”

“Ralak. Tell me about what?” You whisper quietly—quickly. Ralak looks at you, allowing a few seconds of silence to pass before he speaks.

“Mun’i [the cut].” Ralak’s voice cracks with pain as the dreaded thought floods his mind.

Ralak goes on to explain mun'i, giving you a brief lesson on its history and typical…outcome. He explains why Ronal urged him to warn you about it. And exactly what he told her in return. That he is confident that you are more capable of doing this.

It ends with a comforting embrace and the both of you coming to the conclusion that a conservation with Jake is needed. If the cut were to happen, the sky people’s medical advancements would be…useful.

——

Since then, Ralak adapted a very strict agenda when it came to the preparation of the birth. In some ways, it reminded you of the beginning of your relationship with him as teacher and student. Karyu and Numeyu. A revision of previous lessons, such as breathing lessons.

—

“Deeper breaths, tanhì. Slow.” Ralak instructs you with his hand on your round belly.

“It’s hard…” your voice is strained, “when his feet are in my lungs.”

Ralak chuckles, nodding in understanding. “Right. Do your best.”

You attempt to follow his demonstration a fifth time, inhaling deeply through your nose, holding it, and then slowly letting it out through your mouth. “Light headed now.”

“You did well.” Ralak praises you, snaking an arm around you as he lowers you onto your back. “You all right?”

“Just fine.” You mutter, grateful for the new position.

Ralak looks at you for a while, taking in a sight that may be similar to the one of you giving birth—giving life. The reality that you will soon be a family quickly dawns on him. The reality that… Ronal's words still weigh heavy on his heart.

“And when you bear down…” Ralak pulls your leg back, your knee now grazing against your cheek as they flush with embarrassment. “…shallow, fast breaths. Do not hold it.”

He then demonstrates, emphasising the sound of the breathing technique to ensure you’re doing it properly.

'…hee—hee—hoo…'

You mimic his sounds, looking down to see nothing but your protruding bump. It may be strange to some that Ralak is teaching you a lesson on something such as childbirth. But with his mother-figure being the tsahìk, there were just certain things he grew to have knowledge of.

“Ronal says there are times where it is best to allow your body to take over. Focus on breathing him out. Let your body do the work for you…” You nod slowly as you practice deep breathing in this new position, “…she will show you some positions in your lesson tomorrow.”

"What?" Your ears perk up. For some reason one on one interactions with Ronal always make you nervous.

“The other expecting women of the clan will be there.”

Your ears relax, and you feel a little more at ease knowing you won’t be alone, even if it’s a sea of gossiping women. At least they were more discreet about it.

——

As you neared the final months of your pregnancy, Ralak was called out more frequently. The aches and pains that came along with being so big were just as frequent, it seemed. They’d hit you at the strangest times, during your sleep or whilst on your tsurak.

But when the pain spread to your abdomen is when Ralak urged you to take things easy. But they didn’t stop him from going anywhere. No matter how badly he wanted to stay home and tend to you. It was more complicated than that. Something that you were blissfully unaware of. Something he wanted to keep that way until it was the right time to tell you.

—

“Must you go?” You ask hopefully, tugging at his bicep. “You just got back.”

“Tono will have my head, tahnì.” He states, buckling his chest gear yet another time for today.

“It’s not fair. Not even the warriors back at home tree were called out so much. Especially if their mate was this far along.” You huff, letting go off his bicep to clutch your protruding belly. He cups a hand over yours, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“Ah. I know, I know. I want to stay, I do—” He’s cut off by your sudden gasp, and your face screwing with discomfort. “Are you alright?” His voice turns fills with concern, head tilting even more so that he can look you in the face. It felt as if your back set ablaze and your stomach hardened into rock. It eases up within a few seconds and you take a quick breath before answering.

“Yeah, I think so.” You feel around your bump, taking note of how it’s softened and back to normal. “…that’s the second one today.”

“Hm. It is. See Ronal while I am gone.” Ralak insists, tucking a couple loose braids behind your ear. You nod in response, gritting your teeth from the reminder that he’s leaving again. “I will speak with Tonowari today.”

He’s quick to kiss you, lingering longer than he should. You savor his tender touch, breathing him in until you’ve gotten your fill to last you until he’s back. He pulls away, a grimace fixed to his face as it’s almost painful to do. He rubs your belly a final time, clicking for his beast. Reluctantly, he leaves, and so do you.

—

‘Practice Contractions.’

Ronal’s diagnosis of your pains.

You’re not entirely unfamiliar with the concept. Mom calls them something different, but it all means the same thing at the end of the day. The body’s way of preparing to give birth. The constriction of your stomach, accompanied by intense pain, at random times with no rhythm.

It’s normal, and expected. Ronal was particularly pleased to see your body do this early in your pregnancy. It typically occurs a couple weeks prior to birth, and both of you weren’t due for another month.

They’re nothing to worry about, but she advises to rest if they get too intense. You waddle home with your tail dragging behind you, unhappy to see no sign of your mates return.

—

“You are late.” Tonowari speaks monotonously, back turned to Ralak as he keeps his eyes on his task—forging a new tool. Ralak has to swallow his frustration and maintain his confidence.

“It will happen soon.” He responds in a similar tone, his eyes following as the olo’eyktan stands. “I must be with her.”

“I understand. I do. But—” Tonowari finishes up the last touches, giving the tool its final inspection. “This is your duty, son.”

“She, is my duty.” Ralak snaps, his frustration slipping through.

Feeling challenged, Tonowari turns to face him, now eye level with Ralak as he slowly nears his subordinate—chest to chest. But with a pregnant mate of his own, and the fact that Ralak is like his own son, Tonowari huffs a sigh and gives this a pass.

“This is for her, too. For the people of the clan. You know what we are about to face. You will do this.” The olo’eyktan states sternly. “When the horn sounds… you come. And that…” he shoves the tool into Ralak’s chest, “…is an order.”

Holding the tool against his own chest, Ralak looks away from Tonowari, grinding his back teeth hard enough to file them flat. He breathes heavily, attempting to recenter himself and stamp out the flame flickering in his chest. Tonowari gives him space, going ahead and mounting his skimwing, readying himself to embark on their journey. Whilst Ralak is left behind to let out a sluggish, shaky breath, closing his eyes when it dawns on him...

…what he must do, where he must go and who he must see.

All before coming home this evening.

—

“Zu’té.”

Ralak calls his name outside of the secluded, dim marui pod. It’s familiar, yet so unknown. It’s an eerie feeling to be standing here. It’s as if no one’s home. Not a single flame burning, nor the residual heat of a smothered fire pit. But Ralak can sense his presence. It’s thick. Aggressive. Just as it’s always been. It’s only intensified since the incident.

The silence is deafening now. A message loud enough to have Ralak reconsidering his actions—rethinking his feelings. No part of him really desired to ask anything of this man, much less this. But in the case Tonowari really doesn’t budge with his decision, it is something he must do. No matter how many years have passed. Ralak has moved on…come to terms with what’s happened, and is in a much better place in his life now. Because of you.

You.

He’s doing this for you. Or is he? The fact he’s fathered a child has a major influence on his decision to be standing here to begin with… perhaps it’s something within him driven by nature—by instinct. The further you’ve progressed, the more he’s thought about rekindling this relationship. But he always brushed off these passing thoughts, until they were no longer just thoughts that passed. They became thoughts that lingered and kept him awake some nights.

Showing their faces the most when Tonowari reminds him of the imminent danger the clan may face.

They reminded him of the good times when they were children. Teasing the ilus when no one was looking, sneaking off to the reef where the adults went to hunt just to see what it was like. But it also reminded him of the more unfortunate moments they shared. Those that will forever leave a scar on their souls, branded by pain and suffering. Since then, Ralak took an oath to never allow his own family to suffer the way he did.

If this is what he must do, he’ll do it.

“I am in need of a favour.” Ralak finally admits, witnessing a tall, thick silhouette emerge from the marui.

At this angle, its darkness looms over Ralak ominously. Green glowing eyes peer down at Ralak as the figure's hands cross defensively over his chest. He steps out of the darkness, revealing his inked face and intricately up-kept hair. He looks as if he’s been disturbed or rudely interrupted, evident in the way his eyes pierce fearlessly into Ralak. But Ralak simply returns the leer.

“Zu’té.” Ralak speaks his name again, a little more sternly this time.

“Brother. To what do I owe this visit?” His tone is sarcastic with undertones of hostility.

Ralak sighs, turning his head away from his older brother, fixating his gaze elsewhere. His jawbone flutters as he struggles to figure out what words to string together next. This isn’t easy for him—being here with his tail tucked between his legs.

“It is no way easy for me to ask you of this…I know we have not spoken for some time.”

“Really? You think so? I would say it has been a little more than ‘some time’, no?” Zu’té’s irritation is shining through now.

“Agreed.” Ralak speaks sharply, dropping his head, gaze piercing into his own feet. He swallows and sighs once more, finally lifting his head to look his brother in the face. "I need your help, brother."

“Hm.” Zu’té scoffs, meeting his stare flagrantly. “Let me get this right. You come here, wake me out my sleep, speak to me like this for the first time in over forty-eight seasons…and demand my help?”

“You are the only one I trust with this.” Ralak grinds out the words, they are hard to admit.

This quietens Zu’té, causing his features to soften and his fixed stare to falter. To hear this after twelve years, straight from his brother’s mouth has him a little taken aback. There’s only one thing that it could mean—that could bring the golden child before him, begging for a favour.

War.

“What does our ‘mighty’ olo’eyktan have you up to now, baby brother?” Zu’té’s tone is especially sardonic when speaking of their father-figure.

“Plenty.” Ralak chuckles quietly, shaking his head in amusement. His curved lips fade into a thin line, returning his grim expression when he’s reminded yet again of his exact reason for being here. “Look…” Ralak exhales, “...it is nowhere likeable for me to show my face like this. Trust me, I have thought of every possible solution. But…" he shakes his head, hesitant to share what he must say next. "My mate...she is pregnant."

Zu’té’ sighs when he realizes the gravity of the situation, eyes narrowing as they look behind Ralak to scan his surroundings. He’s far from all of the neighbouring marui pods, being the last pod along the mangroves. But if someone were nearby, they could eavesdrop with ease.

Zu’té lightly nudges his head, giving Ralak the silent signal to enter his marui. Ralak moves slowly, a little surprised by his change in...heart. Annoyed with Ralak's sluggish movement, Zu’té rolls his eyes.

“What? You expect an invitation?" Zu’té asks the rhetorical question loud and clear, watching in awe as his not-so-little brother stands almost eye to eye with him. "...you've grown."

"Surprised?" Ralak mutters, ears spasming from his brother's comment—shuffling past him.

"Don't get smart with me, little brother." Zu’té snaps with his ears pinned to his skull, automatically slipping back into disciplining his younger brother like he once used to. Ralak fights the smirk pulling at his lips, making his way further into the neat, well-decorated marui.

——

Ralak came home that night, as he does most nights nowadays with a heavy tail and tensed muscles. That night he broke the news that he had no luck with Tonowari. That he remained tied to his duties as a warrior, teacher, hunter and evidently more…that you had no knowledge of.

But he made it clear that none of them came before you—his most important duty of all. He promised not only to your father, but also to you, to put you first, no matter what. That he will do whatever he needs to ensure your safety is never compromised. Even if it means putting his pride aside, and asking for help, as he did that night.

The desire to prepare for your son's arrival grew with each passing day, making you nest like an expecting ikran. You smoked enough meat to last for the next couple months, and gathered as many herbs and fruits that you could manage.

Weaving has been one of your more frequent tasks, making a couple slings and a few more blankets. Ralak was quick to build the cot when he got into a nesting frenzy, too.

But regardless of what your next task was, it was always a little bit harder…a little bit more tiring. Until you were so round and heavy that most of them became unachievable. Your size started to affect you in more ways than just physical. It started to affect you mentally, too. Playing tricks on your mind, making you think negatively about yourself.

And Ralak picked up on that very quickly.

——

As you wait for his return, you give the marui another deep clean. You take small breaks often, sitting down whenever you become short of breath.

Whilst you sweep the patio, you see your mate trudge up the stairs, ears pinned back and exhaustion wrinkled into his forehead. Ralak sees you and wastes no time to take the broom from you and pull you into his chest.

He holds you in silence. Comfortable silence. Savouring how you feel against his body. The thud of your heartbeat, the warmth of your skin. You’re his safe place. His home. As he is yours. His embrace is what you look forward to the most after a long day apart.

Perhaps this is what you both need. A moment of peace and quiet, where your focus is purely on the person in front of you. A break from the mayhem that life can entail, from the pull and push of the rough tides. Serenity. All to be interrupted by Ralak pulling away, holding you by the arms to create some distance between you two.

Furrowed brows and beaded eyes stare back at you when you look at him. He’s staring at you, but not at you. His eyes pierce into your chest, and then peel away to flick down at his stomach. A smile creeps on his face, and a huff of air through his nostrils as he chuckles softly. His gaze finally meets yours, and he lets go of your arms.

“Your milk is in.” He almost whispers, his fingertips grazing against your stomach.

“What?” You breathe, caught off guard to say the least. Your head snaps down, eyes searching every inch of your shawl to find two large, growing wet spots on it. “O-Oh.” You stutter, looking back up at him, catching sight of the glistening liquid on his stomach. “Oh.”

Your cheeks grow hot when blood rushes to them from embarrassment. Just another thing pregnancy has bestowed upon you. “Sorry, Lak.” You turn to reach for the nearby cloth that hangs by the window.

“What for?” He asks innocently—a little confused.

He watches as you wipe him down in an almost frantic manner. He stills your movements by grasping your wrists, causing you to drop the cloth. He brings your hands to his lips.

“Mawey [Calm]. Nothing to be ashamed of.” He speaks into the palm of your hands. You hear his words, but you still can’t bring yourself to look at him. “Hey.”

He lets go, and cups your cheek, urging you to look at him. When you finally do, he’s smiling down at you, allowing his hand to slip down to the bow of your shoulder—his fingers hooking underneath the hem of your shawl. “Let me clean you up, hm?”

“Oh—okay.” You stutter shyly, feeling his fingers slip under the woven fabric to slip it off your shoulders. “W-Wait.”

And when the material hits the floor, a shiver shakes your spine. Your breasts are exposed to the cool air, sticky nipples hardened into peaks for him to see. They’ve darkened in colour, and are even a little more puffy too.

Honestly, you weren’t the biggest fan of them anymore. You wore thicker tops or shawls to conceal them, just as you did your stomach with your new…stripes. But Ralak loves them, always stealing a glance at every given chance.

But to know that they’re full with milk makes him feel…on edge.

His eyes bore into them, unapologetically taking in every detail. His smile falls into a slight smirk, which then droops into a thin line. His jaw flutters as he grits his teeth, biting back his urges.

“Don’t stare.” You whisper shyly, covering your chest with one arm and your belly with the other. He looks at you, and reaches for your arms, peeling them away from your body.

“Beautiful.” He states as a fact, intertwining his fingers with yours. “So beautiful, carrying my child.”

“‘m really not.” You mumble, looking away in shame. You feel his hand move to your face, two fingers tugging at your jaw to have you look up at him. When you finally give in to his nudges, you see the look on his face. It was as if you had deeply and personally offended him.

“You are.” He insists softly.

You simply shake your head, arms instinctively wrapping around your chest and belly once more. “I don’t feel it. I don’t even know how you can look at me and say that.”

Ralak almost feels angered by your words. It hurts him to hear you speak of yourself in such a way, especially when it’s far from the truth. If anything, he’s even more attracted to you. Knowing that this is what your body is going through to bring his child into the world has made him even more appreciative of you.

“Never say such things.” He husks firmly, removing your hands from your body and keeping them in his grasp. “Do not hide.”

“You have barely touched me.” You retaliate, voice cracking with hurt.

“Not for that reason.” He’s quick to cut you short, making sure you know that the last thing stopping him from pouncing on you every chance he gets is the way you look. Absolutely not.

“If that’s what you need to tell yourself, then—”

Frustrated, Ralak shoves your hand onto his loincloth, pressing it firmly against the bulge that strains against the material. “You feel that?”

You do, you feel every inch of it, hard and warm against your palm. Your face heats up even more, cheeks staining a bright red. Your breath turns raggedy as you struggle to find the words to say.

“Hm?” He grunts as he presses himself even harder against the palm of your hand.

“Y-Yes.” You stutter. Ralak turns you around, pressing himself into you from behind. His heated lips are flush against your ear, hot breath prickling your skin.

“This is what you do to me.” Ralak husks into the shell of your ear, grinding his bulge into the swell of your ass. “Day after day.” He groans almost painfully, filled with all sorts of emotions. He holds you firm against his body, grazing his bottom teeth against the lobe of your ear. “All it takes is a single glance.” His words have your clit pulsing under your tewng and your thighs rubbing against one another. “The sight of you…of your swollen breasts… your swollen womb…” he hisses, on edge and high strung as he caresses your belly, “…it makes me lose myself.”

“Fuck.” You breathe, reaching behind you to tug his loincloth down in a frantic manner. You feel his lips nibble and nip at the skin behind your ear, making their way down the back of your neck. You can’t help but moan from the feeling, your already stiff nipples tingling from his gentle touches.

You feel his hands wander over your stomach and under your tewng, his fingers fondling your folds as he gently parts them. He grunts against your neck, inhaling your scent deep in his lungs as his hips stutter into you. Your stickiness coats his fingers as they slip and slide over your hardened nub.

You tug even harder at his loincloth, struggling to get the annoying thing off him. You let out a frustrated grunt, and he lets loose an amused chuckle, peppering soft kisses down to the bow of your shoulder.

“What is it? Need me to take you right here?” He husks low, voice muffled by his continuous kisses. “…where someone may see?”

Right, you’re on the patio.

Out in the open, under the light of the moon. Ralaks marui pod is far from the village on a cul de sac. The only thing further than here is sand, open water and a couple smaller islands off in the distance. However, there' is's always the slim chance of a na’vi or two going for a late night swim or on a romantic adventure far from the village.

But you simply didn’t care.

If anything it only riles you up more—the riskiness of it all, the thought of being caught. The need to be sneaky and quiet, when all you want to do is moan his name until your voice goes dim. It seems that Ralak feels similarly as you feel him throb against you, excited to take you where you stand.

“I don’t mind.” You huff shakily, finally tugging the cloth down enough for his cock to spring out. “Do you?”

You feel him smile against your shoulder when you grip it in your hand, smooth teeth bumping into your skin as his free hand cups your full breast.

“Not at all, my tanhì.” He breathes, gently kneading the soft flesh, feeling the trickle of your milk flow over the back of his hand.

“Good.” Your lungs tremble beneath his touch, hand desperately stroking his length. Yet he remains gentle with his touches, pinning your clit between his two fingers as he rubs you slowly. “Then hurry…I need you inside.”

Ralak quickly moves his kisses back up your neck, and you feel the tip of his tongue tickle the lobe of your ear before he suckles on it lightly. Tingles ripple up your spine, sending your head into a shiver as you lean into his mouth. His fingers dip into your soaking core just as he rolls your tender nipple between his other two digits.

It’s all too much. All-consuming. Making you gasp for air in lungs that won’t seem to fill. Fog clouds your head. How did you get here? How did this happen? Fuck, it doesn’t matter. Not when you feel like this.

You’re already so sensitive as it is, so tender and delicate, like silk under his fingers. He pushes his two fingers even deeper inside your aching pussy, curling them and earning a whimper from your lips and quiver of your tail.

“Not too loud, oeyä sevin muntxate [my pretty/beautiful wife]”. Ralak whispers the hushed praise, knowing it’s what you need to hear.

You’re so much warmer around his fingers than usual, so much softer. Wetter. With each curl of his digits comes out a squelch as he works you open for his cock that he’s been dying to plunge inside you.

You wrap your leg around his, perching your heel on the side of thigh as you lean all your weight back into him. He steadies his knees, supporting you with ease. Your head slumps back into his shoulder, opening up your neck to his hot breaths, an arm reaching behind you to fist his hair.

His brows are tense and his breath is heavy. He’s overcome with arousal and he can’t keep his composure as your scent grows stronger now your throat is directly under his nose. Truthfully it’s been too long, he knows that. He knows he’s been too protective, too cautious. Depriving you and him of the touch that’s necessary between a mated pair.

His fingers slip out of you, now expertly unravelling the loose knot just barely keeping your tewng on you. As it drops to the floor his fingers are back where they were, rubbing sloppy circles into your clit before spreading your pussylips apart. His hips stutter as he attempts to align the crown of his cock with your slit and finally buck forward when he senses your little, exposed hole.

His cock sinks inside you at an achingly slow pace—inch by inch. You let loose a lengthy moan when you feel him fill you completely, no longer caring if anyone hears you.

“Hnng—I missed you.” The gruff words slip out as he bottoms out inside your cunt. He has longed to feel your gummy walls squeeze oh-so tightly around his cock. “You alright?” He checks on you in a daze, voice thick with want—with the desire to pummel your little pussy until your voice is hoarse. But the last thing he wants is to hurt his heavily pregnant mate.

“Mhm, ple-ase.” You purr with need, closing your eyes and relaxing completely into him. Trusting someone this much feels too good. Ralak moves slowly, pumping his cock in and out of you in a languid haze, tickling your sensitive clit with just the tips of his fingers.

“Tanhì—haah—you are squeezing me so tight.” Ralak moans as his strokes grow with intent. His hips roll deep, shoving and forcing his cock inside your sensitive cunt until his swollen balls kiss your clit.

He’s unapologetically coaxing out the orgasm you’ve been denied for so long with only a few lazy thrusts. And he knows it. He can feel it from the way you clench around him. From the way your thighs tremble a little more after each deep stroke…from the sweet, filthy noises that shamelessly drip from your lips.

“Oh my—Ralak! I-I’m gonna—” You sputter the words between choked sounds, eyes welling with tears from the burn between your legs.

“I know, I know.” He huffs, dragging his hot tongue along the length of your throat. The truth is, he’s close too. But he can’t allow himself to finish inside you. He can’t risk letting himself go and pounding recklessly into your poor, tender pussy. He’s already had a long day. “Let it out, tìyawn [love].”

Its almost cathartic.

Weeks of pent up frustration released in a few minutes, leaving you near convulsing in his grip. You can’t stop the flutter of your pussy walls if you try, it’s out of your control, much like the surge of white fire going right through you. Your legs fight to stay open and you hold onto your mate to keep you standing. Gurgled noises spill from your lips as your body shudders under him. His hips still, keeping his cock buried to the hilt inside your quivering cunt as he holds you tight, supporting you until you finish riding out your high.

“Good girl. Good girl.” He praises you in a hushed, shaky voice, extremely wound up from feeling you flourish so beautifully under his touch. It's a miracle that he didn't empty himself inside you right then and there.

“But you—but you haven’t—” You sputter, collapsing into him as your legs give out.

“I know. It is alright..” He hums, carefully leading you inside the marui to lay you on the bed.

“Thought you were c-cleaning me u-up. Not mak-king m-more of a mess.” Your breath is relentlessly hitching as you watch him hastily remove his tewng that’s been digging into his thighs. A reminder of exactly how quickly things happened.

“You are right.” Ralak tsks, cocking a brow as he stares down at you with a predatory leer. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

Ralak situates himself between your legs, crouching over you, ensuring there’s plenty of space between him and your stomach. His cock presses between your sticky folds as his lips press against your clammy neck. He tastes the faint saltiness of the thin film of sweat on your skin as he drags his lips down your chest—between your breasts.

“Lak…” You whisper, back bowing against the bed.

You’re way too sensitive right now, like an exposed nerve. His eyes snap up and lock with yours, responding to you moaning his name. His tongue darts out, sampling a taste of the spilled milk on your breast. Then his eyes slam shut, tensed brows and scrunched nose telling you that he’s unsure of the flavour in his mouth.

Eyes widening, you’re taken aback by his actions, feelings of shyness and embarrassment creeping back in. Fisting his hair, you pull gently at his head to pry him off your chest, only for him to resist your tugs.

“You shouldn’t have done—why’d you do—” You struggle to find the right words at this moment, flustered and nervous that he’d do that.

But what leaves you even more speechless is when he opens his eyes to reveal dots for pupils, a look you only see when he’s high strung. And then he eagerly takes your nipple into his mouth, latching on and ensuring the suction is airtight. The tip of his tongue flicks at your hardened nipple a few times before he gently suckles at your breast.

A tingling sensation radiates your chest and you feel it in the pit of your stomach. Your breath catches in your throat, a little surprised by his lewd behaviour. And soon, all you can hear are the repeated, muffled gulps of your warm milk flowing down his throat.

“W-What are yo-ou d-doing, my love?” You mewl, squirming underneath him from the strange feeling. He unlatches harshly with an audible pop, leaving your pointed nipple misshapened and exposed.

“Cleaning you.” He huffs quickly as he catches his breath, diving back in to lap up the milk leaking from your other neglected breast. Your head throws back in what is undeniably pleasure now, legs tightening around his waist. You look down in a daze, watching him feast greedily, feeling his hips begin to stammer against you.

“Fuck—I didn’t know this i-is what you meant.” You’re finally calming down from your orgasm now, already feeling your body gearing up to have another. His desperation is pungent. Evident in the way his cock grinds between your soft, slippery folds, scenting your cunt with it.

He pulls off you with yet another pop, his tongue swiping his bottom lip so not to let the bead of milk dripping off of it go to waste. He’s huffing and puffing against you, trailing his wet kisses down your curved stomach as he tucks your legs back. You feel his hot breath against your thighs and your legs tremble in anticipation.

“Kalin, kalin [sweet, sweet].” He mumbles, kissing your pulsing clit. “Oeyä kalin [My sweet].”

“Oh shit.” You let loose the breathy curse when you feel his lips pucker around your over sensitive nub, and squeal when he begins to suck on it too. Your hands fly to his head, grasping at his hair to shove his face further into your cunt. He devours you with exhilaration, lapping at your leaking slit to savour your sweetness.

His cock is aching now. He’s so hard it’s painful. He can’t stop throbbing and his cock strains so hard it’s swollen. He wants to shove himself back inside you— your warmth—and hump at you until his marked you with his essence.

He can’t help but touch himself as he pleasures you. Stroking his cock with every lick of your pussy. Thrusting into his hand when he feels you throb against his tongue. He’s groaning and grunting into your cunt, urgently chasing his own release as he sucks on you for his own pleasure.

Too busy to realise that you’ve been begging him to slow down a bit. That you’re too sensitive. That you feel like you may explode if he continues.

“Ralak! I just came! F-Fuck—” You yank his head away, hurriedly rubbing at your sore pussy.

Ralak pants for air, pulling back into a standing position to reveal that he’s been fucking his hand this entire time. It’s glossy with his precum as it dribbles down his strake. He’s frantically stroking himself, staring brazenly down at your pussy—taking in how it’s flushed and swollen, glistening with his spit and your slick. It’s a delicious sight, tempting him to go in for another taste.

He’s close and you can tell, his hips are stuttering erratically and he’s groaning like a dying man. You sit up slowly, bringing yourself to your knees as you shuffle your way closer to him. Your chest is level to his cock and you cup your full breasts with both hands, pushing them together only inches away from him.

He seems a little confused, unsure of what your next move may be. Fuck, you aren’t even sure of what your next move is. But you’re going with your instinct, pinching your nipples until they begin to leak milk. His brows jump, the sight of that sends his hips stammering into his hand. With each huff and thrust sends his cock a little closer to you, until his swollen cockhead is poking at your breasts.

You shuffle a little closer, moaning softly from watching him get off like this. Then you feel his sticky cock slip in between your breasts, and his hand falls to your shoulders.

Now he’s fucking your tits in a frenzy, his leaking tip prodding at your lips. You stick your tongue out for a taste, allowing his cockhead to slip and slide against it. He’s groaning and moaning, eyes fixed in the sight beneath him. The pressure from his fat cock between your breasts only makes you leak even more, and that’s when he loses it completely.

“Oh, fuck.” He growls, thrusting hard enough to shove his cockhead into your mouth. You feel him throb violently against your tongue, his thick, hot load coating your cheeks until they're full to the brim. He pulls out as soon as he realises what he’s down, immediately reaching for your bedside bucket to spit in.

But you shake your head, glossy eyes staring up at him as you swallow his cum with a singular, loud gulp. His eyes bulge, his hands flying to cup your cheeks as he quickly searches your eyes. You simply smile, using a thumb to swipe the single bead of cum on your chin and pop it into your mouth.

Features softening, he returns the smile, chest heaving wildly as it swells with pride.

——

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smoothlikealikeasnake · 3 months ago

Text

Strong Coffee and Sweet Cakes

Chapter Two ‘The Curse of Exhaustion’

Genre - BTS FF, a/b/o dynamics, a/b/o BTS and MC, Ot7 x fem MC/reader, so fluffy, little angst, eventual smut

Warnings - Very fluffy! Angsty themes like loneliness, sadness, light insomnia - let me know if there’s any more! X

Summary - A new cafe near the Hybe building will change the 7 members of Bangtan’s lives forever, 7 alphas in a pack? A recipe for disaster. Until a sweet omega starts to stir up their world with a little bit more sugar and slowly their loneliness dissolves

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Author Notes - Chapter 2 is here! It’s starting out slow right now! I’m mostly focussing on introductions, world building, introducing you to the characters and dynamics of this story so the plot can progress!

Sorry I didn’t post this yesterday like I said, I got caught up longer than I expected to in the day and didn’t have time to write xx

The final scene was a last minute addition and idk why I just love it!

With Namjoons new energy, the producing process seemed to be much easier, atleast one out of three minds was inspired and had some encourgement. But, all things come to an end, by 5pm, Namjoons motivation has deteriorated and the lack of sleep begins to catch up, fast. Its catching up for everyone, Yoongi, Hoseok and Namjoon have been stuck in the studio for the last three days and only slept once, unhealthy habits that they continue from years ago because three perfectionists, trying to produce an album on a timelimit, all thats in their minds are caffeine and work.

All three are rubbing at their eyes, heads heavy and thoughts beginning to process and thats when they have to call it quits, for the night atleast because without a single present mind, no work was going to be produced at all and theyd be back in the situation they thought they would have had all day, exhausted, drained and unmotivated. Atleast a few hours of sleep is needed right now.

"I cant even think" - Hoseok groans, rubbing at his neck and clicking it as if it will wake him up some and help him, legs aching from being sat for so long

"Neither, maybe this is it for tonight" - Namjoon agrees, slumping in his chair just a little

"Just another hour or two and then we can call it off" - Yoongi mumbles, not even taking his eyes off the computer, more just commenting half passively to encourage them to keep going just a little longer but the thing is, that little one or two hours is a whole lot when you havent slept in days

"We havent left the studio all day, lets just take a short break and then we can keep going" - Namjoons groaning out finally accepting near defeat

"Yeah, you know what, how about we go to this cafe your talking about and just get a drink to bring back" - Hoseok mentions it, curious but also just more eager to get a stretch of his legs because its what he desperately needs right now.

"What do you think hyung?" - Namjoon knows Yoongi could turn around and flat out say no, he doubts it, but he could and as much as they could fight, they are all reaching for the same thing right now.

"Yeah, okay we can take a short break" - Because as much as Yoongi wants to just stay and work, his pack and how they feel both physically and mentally is incredibly dear to him, even if it isnt always openly shown, even if he grumbles out his agreement and huffs, he doesnt mind taking a break for them.

Quickly having one last listen and making sure to save and close the computer just in case, the tired alphas groggily make their way into the biting air under the sunset, 5:15pm. Yoongi doubts the cafe will even be open anymore, Hoseoks yearning for his americano and Namjoon is maybe a bit too excited to go back so soon.

The two who havent yet seen the cafe pause for a moment when it comes into view, furrowing their eyebrows and taking in the scene because they instantly understand the appeal atleast visually, Their warm fairlights and string lamps set up outside lighting up the seating area and the atmosphere is like that of a movie in the moment, they'd seen hundreds of beautiful places in all of their travels but this is different, the small details Namjoon had noticed earlier making their way into the two alphas attention too. The 'Open!' Sign is still flipped how it was this morning, Namjoon sighing out in relief because he really does need the caffeine. Because thats definitely, definitely the only reason he wanted to come back. He too is surprised your open and it isn't too busy inside from what can be seen through the windows, tables occupied but not packed.

The little bell jingles as they enter, the two elder alphas taking moments to observe the inside, inhale the still strong scents of coffee and baked goods and yeah this was starting to make sense why Namjoon liked it here so much after just one visit. And then they see you, instatly knowing your the omega Namjoon mentioned as you bring over the teapot of chamomile tea to Mrs. Han and engage in a light conversation with the sweetest smile gracing your lips. Your eyes flicker to the door at their arrival but you dont stray your attention from Mrs. Han too much knowing your conversation would be short and you'd be back behind the counter shortly.

The earthy scent youd enjoyed this morning briefly fills your nose from across the room and your eyes light up a little, hes back, so soon and with two? other people, other alphas. One is a strong, heavily masculine sort of burning wood smell, theres hints of sweetness underneath, if you were to guess its- marshmallow? but its subtle and oh so complimenting with a hint of whiskey, just a little, its warming and while its a combination youd never imagined before it works so well, like a summer night out in the forest, a wood cabin and a fireplace maybe. The other is musky, the kind of musk only an alpha can have in their scent which can easily be overwhelming, unpleasant even, but its mellowed out with hints of crisp green apples and cedarwood, its lively, masculine and perfectly balanced, refreshing and so alluring. You try to resist the urge to breath a little deeper to take in more of their scents as you listen to Mrs. Han and finish up your conversation but as you begin to walk towards the counter and allow a little more of the scent to invade your senses, you cant help but frown at the bitterness of exhuastion that is laced over each of their scents, its unsettling to you, the type of tainting you really dont like to smell on others and you walk a little faster to take their orders and hopefully make it even a little less bitter.

Namjoons smiling as he approaches you at the counter, looking over your clear window showing off the bakes and noticing how its nearly empty now, just a few of each left, some only having one or two, some actually empty but there it is, the apple and cinnamon pretzel that made his morning and then he looks back up and he wants to coo at you, your hair messier than it was this morning, a little fluffy and your wearing a pair of glasses now, adjusting them on your nose as you approach them quickly, your sweet smile back again.

"Hello! Back again already" - You giggle out and Namjoon goes a bit pink with realising how yeah hed come back under 12 hours after he came for the first time and swooned over your coffee and bakes. Yoongi and Hoseok stand slightly behind him watching with intrigue and taking you in, a little warmth filling thie chest at your soft appearence and voice, they can also feel the shift in Namjoon's scent as it twists just a little stronger and sweeter, your nose twitching in response in a way that they find utterly adorable.

"Haha- yeah" - Namjoon awkwardly laughs out, practically facepalming in his head at the awkwardness in his voice but you really dont mind, its cute to you. Its cute in a way you'd never really thought of alphas like before, his clumsiness in body language and words just making you smile wider. Its so common for alphas to purely exude confidence, overhwelmingly strong and often pride too, which, of course is bad to stereotype but its one youve actually experienced. The lack of those two qualities, the slight uncertainty and natural tinge in Namjoon's actions are refreshing, its welcomed.

"What can i get you?"

"Ill have an espresso- uh the blend from earlier if that isnt too much trouble" - Namjoons cursing himself for not asking what it was because youd been working all day and probably had tens to hundreds of customers in that time why would you remember tha-

"Of course its not! Anything else?" - Ah, you cut off his doubt and awkwardness in a second and hes grateful, incredibly, for how attentive you are, even if you dont have to be at all

"What do you guys want?" - Only then do you bring your focus back to the two behind him and the way they step forward a little, not intimidatingly on purpose, but just naturally makes your eyes widen a little, brain falter for a mere second from the power of their scents but you force yourself to relax in order to listen.

"Ill have an americano " - For hoseok, looking forward to trying this coffee that transformed Namjoon

"A cold brew for me please" - Yoongi mumbles out, just loud enough for you to nod enthusiastically and you tap a few times on the screen and read over the order, routinely about to ask about what coffee blend theyd like but something comes to mind.

At 6am Namjoon had ordered two espressos, looked exhausted, wasnt even going to eat anything with it, hed left with some energy which made you happy but now hes back with that same exhaustion, at 5:30 and ordering more coffee? Its not your place, you havent even known him 12 hours but you cant stop the concern, the gentle scolding you want to give for how it cant be good for his body to have such strong coffee at this time in the day when he should begin to unwind.

Your eyebrows furrow, a little frown settling on your face and all three alphas feel their heart jump when you look back up at them, specifically speaking to Namjoon to hesitantly address your concerns, your breath hitching before you speak because this really could come off as rude potentially and thats so far from what you want but you cant help it, maybe you could atleast suggest something else, just playful concern, right?

Unfortunately it comes out more sad and concerned than you wanted it too. You want to sound teasing but your voice fails you along with your expression and you curse yourself for sounding too pushy but none of them see if that way.

"More espressos? Its evening now and you had an early morning" - Namjoon faulters at your words, lips parting in surprise and he can feel the strings in his heart pulling in everywhich way. You watch him struggle to reply for a moment but then you look at the other two criminally handsome men and one (Yoongi) suddenly smiles amused at your bold confrontation despite not knowing him long at all and Hoseok tilts his head with a smaller smile in further curiosity, waiting to see how this plays out.

"Ah we still have some work to do" - Namjoon eventually manages to get out but he instantly regrets it when your frown deepens, you arent going to argue because its not your place but the lack of approval in your expression has Namjoon spinning back on his words with a hand scratching his neck awkwardly, hes giving in to your every concern and wish without even realising because it feels good to be cared for, concerned for, its not common ehich is odd to think considering the millions of fans who wish them well at all times but this is personal, real, raw concern and its not because hes an artist, not because hes someone you admire but simply because hes human. And thats something that feels new.

"But... what would you suggest instead?" - The way your expression lights up and smile regraces your face is enough compensation for giving up the caffeine he holds close to his heart, this feels warmer, more rewarding. You instantly reply bubbly at his acceptence of your not so subtle suggestion.

"I can make you a mint tea? Its relaxing, less caffeine, good for your throat" - You list off a few benefits happily and its clear youd chosen something you found suitable to him because chamomile was too relaxing, fruit tea possibly too sweet, mint was just right in your opinion.

"I'll have one of those then instead, and uh another apple and cinnamon pretzel please" - If he's going to differ from his usual choice he might aswell indulge in another one of the sweet, filling treats he so enjoyed before, the way you light up impossibly brighter in the dim ambient atmosphere pulls a more permanent smile onto Namjoons lips, he can see you teeter on your feet because he'd indirectly admitted his adoration for the bake.

"Of course!" - You tap it in satified with his change of heart, more than satisfied, fulfilled and warm inside, holding back a purr from showing how much it warms your heart to care for and treat people, especially those who work too hard for their own good which is what these alphas give off.

Your looking over the other two alphas remembering their presence instantly, this could be their first coffee of the day for all you know - you doubt it - given they look the same as Namjoon in terms of exhaustion but you dont know anything about them and your interference with Namjoon's order is as far as you'll push for now so you just give them the same smile you give Namjoon and look over all three as you ask your next question, really trying not to shrink under their strong presences. Its hard to ignore the swell of pride that fills your heart realising not only had Namjoon returned so quickly but he had also - supposedly - brought his friends here too, its an indirect praise that just makes you smile a little wider, your cheeks a little warmer and fingers a tad more fidgety but you try not to show it.

"Anything else?" - Hoseok looks over at the bakes display because Namjoon had ordered something from there and then something catches his eye

"Is that banofee pie?" - One, pristine slice remains under the cake cover and when does he ever resist a banoffee pie, especially one that looks so good.

"Yes! It is" - Your nodding and watch Hoseok pause for a second, heart lips pulling into a tempted smile, nodding to himself and you

"Ill have that slice then please" - The smile widening on your face a little is once again rewarding and Hoseok wants you to always smile like that- even if hes only just met you.

Yoongi has been watching the interactions silently, observing you, the way your so expressionate in your body language and face, saw the way your body lit up like a live wire both times the alphas requested one of your desserts and while he really did want to get back to finish up and finally sleep a bit, he wouldnt mind staying for a while in the cozy atmosphere of your cafe.

"Okay! Is that all for you?" - The three are nodding quickly at your question

"To go or sit in?" - They should go, get their drinks and go back to the studio but something in each of them is tempting them to stay. To indulge. Namjoons looking back at the other two quickly because he knows they said theyd go back but admitedly he doesnt want too and when he looks at Yoongi for his decision and when the man simply shrugs, avoiding looking him in the eyes and pushing his long hair back, Namjoon feels like hes won something, turning back to you waiting and nodding before he answers for the three.

"Sit in please" - You quicly ring them up and repeat what youd told Namjoon this morning, that they can sit anywhere and they find a small corner, three comfortable seats and a window for a gentle, fresh breeze. In your negociation with Namjoon youd completely forgotten to ask what the other two alphas would like coffee blend wise and you panic for a moment, looking back and forth as they sit down and noting the deep sighs they exchange purely from thie minds clouded with stress, you take the decision for yourself to give them the least disturbance, a honey roast for Yoongi and a Medium roast for Hoseok, mint tea for Namjoon with a little pot of honey he can choose to add or not and prepare all of it on a tray with the two treats they wanted.

Meanwhile around the table, the three begin to talk, taking in the night settling outside the window and taking a well needed moment to breathe

"She is sweet" - Yoongi mutters with a confirming nod of his head

"Very cute, caring too" - Hoseok instantly agrees, eyes watching you spin around behind the counter preparing their different drinks, intrigued.

"Yeah i mean i did say" - Namjoon’s eyes are also on you, thinking about how you’d thought about his health before anything else and it was just sticking with him.

"Bold of her to suggest you not have what you originally order... i like it" - Yoongi gives a small huff and smile.

"So we going to finish and go back to the studio"

"Thats the plan"

"We just have to review the last track again, make any last changes, it feels like its missing something but im not sure what yet" - Yoongi tells them with his eyebrows pursed because if any of them are the hardest on themselves when it comes to work, its him. Hoseok's a bit too distracted by observing all the patterns youve decorated this place in to think about what exactly is missing in the track but luckily for him, Namjoon answers.

"I get what you mean, just something small but definitely vital, it could just be the backing vocals we need Jin to record though"

"Maybe" - Yoongi hums out, imagining the song in his head and trying to work out if spending another few hours will even do anything or if Jin's vocals are all the track really needs.

"Choreography is coming along alright, pretty sure we can start to learn it next week" - Hoseok finally refocuses on the work topic and he recalls back to him and Jimin struggling to bring some of the choreograpies together, of course some of them are choreographed by other people but dancing is him and Jimin's passion, it just makes him cringe recalling the pure frustration and tension building when things just dont work or dont play out how they envisioned.

Before anyone can reply, they're distracted by you teetering over, silent on your feet but your sweet scent gives you away, unknowingly lulling some of the tension in thier muscles away, each of them slightly melting into their seats. You entirely focus on putting each of their orders infront of them, repeating them outloud quietly and being careful not to spill anything from the tray. The three watch you, expertly moving each of their cups around one by one with barely a few taps on the table, only then do they take you in further.

Your apron is tied tight on your body, secured with a bow in the back that Hoseok notices, fitting, he thinks. Your hair is tied back but a few strands have fallen from the ponytail and framed your face, the hairs tickling you and making you twitch but it doesnt set you off task for a single moment. Energy seems to bound around you but Yoongi notices the tiniest shake of your fingers and just slightly laboured breathing as your omegan body tries to keep up with the pace you set yourself, its something youve taught yourself to get used to and you have built a significant tolerance to it but at the end of long days like this one, it starts to catch up to you, makes you jittery and has you yearning for your nest at the end of the day more than anything.

You dress simply for work, just in a t-shirt and jeans that are for the most part comfortable but at the end of the day begin to make your skin feel a little scratchy and sensitive, nothing you can help or avoid. They do little to hide the curves of your body but its not something the three men spend time dwelling on because they arent some freshly presented alphas or disrespectful in general. With all of the dishes and cups placed down you quietly repeat everything back to yourself, a look of concentration on your face that makes the three watch you intently, making sure everything is there and when your content you shoot up from your slightly bent position, hands clasped infront of you and expression bright besides the impending tiredness that is due to settle over you soon and they can see it, as much as you try to push it down and only want to wrap you up in one of the many blankets settled all around and guide you to rest. You want the same for them however, and you express that, gently.

"Enjoy! And please do try to rest soon" - You say your last part quieter, hesitant but it’s appreciated by the three, and maybe your words settle in sooner than they'd planned.

You make your way back to the counter and occupy yourself with your tasks but the three can feel you trying to subtly glance over to gauge their reactions, they dont mind, more curious and intrigued more than anything. The sips they all take have them simultaniously groaning, kind of animated, seeming almost fake because it feels luxurious, smooth, perfectly suited to their tastebuds. Your smiling to yourself at their reaction and it only gets bigger when Hoseok tries his pie and his eyes practically gauge out of his head, taking an even bigger bite than before.

They find themselves not drinking and eating for fuel, but for enjoyment, slower than usual and certainly slower than theyd planned. Theyre sinking into their chairs, Yoongis slowly blinking in that catlike manner he has, Hoseoks slumping in the chair and definitely would usually mentally scold himself for how hes acting as if hes in his own home with his head leant back against the chair and manspreading but he didnt really care right now for some reason. Namjoon is feeling particularly heavy, sleepy with the warm, soothing drink youd carefully prepared for him, finding himself running his hands through his hair in an effort to try to keep himself awake. Without realising, half an hour goes by, 6pm and the cafe is slowly emptying, the three half asleep, incredibly relaxed alphas realise they should probably get up, so slowly they do, trying to blink away the sleep.

"So we best get back huh?" - Namjoon gets out, rubbing his eye but Yoongi shakes his head, surprising them both

"it can wait, lets just get some sleep" - Yoongi can practically feel the joy radiating off the two others from his words

"Look at us, taking her advice without even realising" - Hoseok jokes about it but its the truth and walking over to the counter to drop off their plates, they can see the tiredness in your own body a lot more clearly now, trying to keep up with quick movements but your hands are shaking more than before and your faltering in your movements, seeming to forget your actions every few seconds but your trying and its so clear it makes them frown.

"That was amazing thank you"

"Truly" - Hoseok throws in and they see you spin around at their words and muster up a warm smile, wishing them a good evening and telling them to remember your words from earlier playfully. Namjoon and Hoseok begin a slow walk to the door, Yoongi about to follow but he looks at the two, sees them about to reach outside and turns back to you, capturing your attention.

"Take care of yourself, hm? Get some rest" - Yoongi's quiet, making sure no one else can hear and his tone is soft but assertive, a small frown on his lips, you stare for a moment a little shocked, opening and closing your mouth like a fish because you hadnt realised anyone else could see the indicators of your tiredness but his expression made it clear he had noticed and he cared. You like to show care to others, it makes you happy but oddly enough, you dont often recieve the same, not that you ever expect it but just as an obersvation. He makes you stutter and blush, warm inside and all you can do is nodd furiously with a smile and a quiet assurance that you will.

Yoongi nods back, huffs in satisfaction and your small interaction plays on repeat for the rest of both of your nights. Yoongi revels in your sweet reaction, the "i-i will" you let out even if the surprise you showed unsettled him, the pink tint of your cheeks is cute, the fluster different from your confidient and bubbly personality he'd seen before that but he wanted to see it over and over again. Hes unknowingly smiling as he leaves until Namjoon and Hoseok ask him why he looks so giddy, brushing them off and telling them they should all get home and sleep, which they do without a second thought.

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Your cafe is open early and late everyday, 6-6:30 monday to saturday but thats exactly why your friends are vital to any sort of success you have because without them, you simply wouldnt be able to run the hours you do. Mondays you do the entire day, along with wednesdays and fridays, one of the three will always be there during rush hours to help but for the most part you are set to work the entire day. Unfortunately, the long hours completely take it out of you and you also have to do the baking so to manage, you focus in the kitchen on Tuesdays and thursdays, maintaining prep for the rest of the week and having time to recharge whilst one of the others take front of house or two of them somedays. This way, you have much shorter days on those days and get the rest you need, you get to sleep in and leave so much earlier too.

Its essential - the rest - because as an omega you naturally crave and require more sleep than betas and alphas, its in your genes and although you absolutely use every ounce of your energy and some to work as much as possible, it does catch up to you. A lot of days youll walk in to your home, barely functioning and b-line for your nest, sleep an insane amount without much time to yourself. Of course you get breaks during the days you work long hours and you'd recently hired some part-time staff to help throughout the day alongside Yuqi, Soyeon and Soojin and its taken some weight off of you but you still often find yourself in the exact same position as you are today.

Not having a pack as an omega is hard, most would find it impossible but your situation isnt something youd change in desperation, your not in a pack by choice, not by force because your entirely waiting for the pack that feels right to invite you, if that day ever comes. It's hard because you crave the comfort and safety betas and alphas - especially - naturally provide to omegas in their pack, the ability to exude their scent in waves to lull their omegas into a softer, less anxious state - which you often get - and in return omegas are naturally nurturing, calming to those around them and balance out a pack, taking away stress.

For you, after a long day you begin to get jittery, shakey and lose focus in moments, you get out of breath incredibly fast, your eyes grow heavy, your mind slows down and tasks that would usually be simple become incredibly hard. You do your absolute best to hide it, to never show it infront of customers or even your friends but sometimes your friends notice and silently come to your aid just a little more than usual, something your grateful for, incredibly. No customer has ever noticed it though, atleast never enough to ever comment on it but Yoongi did and it made you freeze up, almost like making your mind catch up with your body and you felt even more sluggish than before but for some reason, it felt- okay? It would usually make you frustrated but today it felt okay to let yourself be tired, okay to be a bit more lenient on yourself.

After closing up, your walk home is slower than usual, not forcing yourself to keep at a pace that makes your muscles burn and lungs scream. You have the same issue as usual when you get in though, entering your own cozy space puts your body on sleep mode, tells you your finally in some kind of safe environment so you make yourself a quick dinner, half asleep already and moving sluggishly and as soon as its down, a quick shower so you dont get your nest dirty where the hot water feels especially scalding on your sensitive skin, sometimes makes it a little irritated but it all is well when your nest comes into sight.

You barely throw on your pajamas before bounding into the soft cocoon, purring in an instant, body finally allowed to properly rest, clutching onto the variety of blankets and not attempting to even check your phone because your hands are shaking too much. Somehow youll manage to put on a show to watch for .5 seconds before descending into a deep sleep but most nights its unfortunately interuppted. Not by anything but yourself, thats another reason beta and alpha pheromones are essential for most omegas, they help you sleep and stay asleep. Without, you end up waking up multiple times in the night without reason and its annoying along with incredibly tiring. Jolting awake isnt new to you, just not exactly what would be the ideal situation with how hard you work everyday.

Bangtan's pack experience the same, work long hours everyday, hardly see a few weeks of break a year - if anything - and in the time they do have to sleep, they struggle, tossing, turning, jolting awake. They put it down to the stress of their idol life but deep down they all know theres something else factoring in, the absence of something theyve yet to find. Its gotten especially hard for them recently, back from the military. Before, they could bury themselves in military tasks, exhaust themselves into a slightly deeper sleep, just as they could usually do before from their idol activites but now? Its started to stop working, as if their bodies have grown immunity to their tactics and are still pushing for something they dont know. Between consistent stress from the comeback, catching up with everything theyve missed and having to become accustomed to their pack/group life all over again - which theyd never imagined would be so hard to do, they never noticed just how routine it all was until they split apart - their bodies are in overdrive and their emotions? Yeah, not great to say the least.

The songs their writing themselves are getting more and more negative, forcefully positive in some cases but its so fake that it just feels wrong. Their unhealthy habits become more and more frequent, hormones are all over the place and their struggling, possibly more than ever. They bought a penthouse recently, collectively, its huge, big enough for all of them and they claimed they can stay there during group activites for convenience but realistically they share comfort in eachother, not just because they are a pack but because they share this deeprooted loneliness that those around them won't understand.

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"Is it hard? Being an omega, not in a pack?" - Yuqi asks, blunt as ever and you know she means no harm, no intention to upset you at all so you take it with no offence even if Soojin elbows her hard for how she says it

"I dont know, i guess it was but im used to it now" - Theres not a hint of solemness in your voice, no search for sympathy because this is just how it is. It still makes the six - Yuqi, Soyeon, Soojin, Shuhua, Minnie and Miyeon (your friendS for years now) - cringe and frown, always ones to be concerned for you no matter how much you try to brush it off.

"You always have any of us you know?" - And you know Soyeon and the rest of them mean it, you shove another mouthful of rice in and smile through your cheeks with a nod, if you need them theyre only a call away but you understand why they're concerned, Alphas and Betas such as themselves have a significantly easier time without packs because they genetically arent as dependent on others usually.

"Aishhh always getting solemn Soyeon" - Miyeon scolds, nudging her because you clearly wont speak more on this topic, you never do, its a jar you dont like to open, one filled with old memories and Miyeon knows that.

"Sorry sorry- So, hows Leila, Shuhua?" - Ah this is a happy topic, Shuhua's neice, a little omega who isnt even one yet, the baby she sontims brings to your cafe when she babysits and just has you gushing and fretting over every little thing about her. Everyone can feel you brighten up, your scent sweetening as the hint of strawberry thickens balanced with the sweet cream.

"Yes! How is the little potato" - Yuqi asks and you push her shoulder with a playful frown, scolding her for teasing the cute baby. She does have the most adorable chubby little face and hands and legs and just everything- a little marshmallow if you were to compare her to anything but Yuqi liked to call her a potato

"If you keep calling her i think Y/n's going to explode one day Yuqi" - Minnie playfully teased and faux pouted at you but Shuhua brushed them both off, just continuing

"Anyway, she's great! My sister said she Doesnt let go of the blanket you gave her Y/n" - Thats the other thing, both Shuhua's sister and her husband are beta and alphas, Leila is an omega, its a rare occurence but far from impossible. They have barely any omegas in their family and no matter how much research they do sometimes they still struggle or Shuhua will struggle will babysitting but thats where you come in.

You understand, you can understand in ways alphas and betas cant because your an omega and while she isnt your daughter or related to you in any way so you dont know her every tendency like her family do, you can help in some cases. Like a few weeks ago, when Shuhua had come in with her and you'd been working in the kitchen that day but youd whizzed out, flour all over your apron and rushed over before youd even heard Leila's first cry because you could sense the distress before they all could. Soojin had stared in surprise as you'd practically sprinted past her and reached the two just before Leila began to cry and saw Shuhua's face morph into one also of distress because she was fed, changed, being held after not wanting to crawl or walk for the moment, all of the things shed routinely check, indicated that Leila should be just fine and you knew that Shuhua had obviously done everything right but you could feel and see some unresolved discomfort.

You didnt know what from, but it was the kind you'd get when you just needed an extra layer of comfort when you were younger especially, its how you ended up with a collection of soft blankets to bring with you to places - which now are carefully placed in your nest after years of wear - its a hunch but it was worth trying and you'd wide eyed rushed around, to your small office in the back, past Leila and Shuhua and Soojin again, practically throwing blanket after blanket out of the box you have kept in the office, unscented new blankets that you kept just in case until you found the exact one you were looking for, its soft, crotcheted so she could slip her fingers through it easily, long enough for her to drape over her body for years to come and with a quick feel yourself, you just knew it was right so without another word you were draping it over her and gently encouraging her hands to hold onto it, her wails soothing until a wave of tiredness settled over her and she was asleep with pink cheeks and sniffles within just 2 minutes.

Shuhua had looked at you in pure astonishment, even though shed watched you be especially nurturing to omegas before, those in distress, discomfort, just a little sad or even those who you just sensed needed it but Leila couldnt even speak yet you'd just known and back to now, it fills you with joy and warmth that youd made the sweet little thing happy.

"When doesnt our Y/nie know best" - Soyeon exclaims dramatically, hand over heart for added flare and everyone laughed at her tease while you grew red cheeked and shoved in anoher mouthful of meat from the hotpot youd all gotten. Every friday night youd all go out for a dinner at the same restaurant in the area, a smallish one that just did the absolute best hot meals ever. You were exhausted every time but you kept it together throughout the day and evening because you look forward to this time with them, its rewarding after a long week and you cherish it. Absentmindely, the six always pick up on your needs, never forgetting to pick up the blanket from your office chair to drape over your shoulders or lap for that extra layer of comfort you just need after the day and they make sure your drink is always topped up, usher you into the middle of the booth between them and make sure you always walk home with someone even if youd tried multiple times to resist their fussing, they just know you, and they care.

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"Jungkook why have we just got a huge delivery of pillows, blankets and duvets?" - Seokjin asks over the phone watching as box after box gets piled into the entry way of their penthouse, utterly confused when he read the box contents on the top of each one. Its absurd, the place is already decorated.

"I just wanted them hyung..." - Jungkook quietly mumbled out, he cant explain it to Seokjin because it sounds silly, he just got an urge, he felt an itch and he scratched it. Seokjin was running his hand through his hair seeing more and more come through the door and just standing in utter disbelief.

"What are you even preparing for?! An apocolpyse? The biggest movie night known to man? Have you suddenly turned into a bear and not told us your preparing to hibernate for winter?!" - Seokjin rambles into the phone, words spitting like fire.

"Hey i get it, the place definitely needs to be cozier" - Jimin agrees from Jungkook's side of the line, adding to his purchasing choices and Seokjin just cant believe it because in what world would they need anywhere near this much?!

But whats the point in arguing when Jungkook already sounded scolded and sad, its been hard for them lately, theres no point adding to the stress. With a deep sigh, Seokjin just bites his lip and nods to himself, mentally agreeing with the new arrangement.

"Do you want me to arrange them or just put the boxes in your room?"

Just two nights before, Jungkook had been browsing on his phone when he saw a tiktok of an omega preparing their nest, so many blankets and cozy things and his body went on autopiled, he acted without a single thought for some reason and for the next three hours, he ordered every type of blanket and pillow he could find on the website the omega linked for their primary usage, of all different materials and sizes without much of a plan at all. It was also clearly out of place for Jungkook because he barely ordered anything in black, white or grey, more white than the other two but everything else was mainly soft pastels, a few brighter pieces here and there. Its odd, but he let it happen because in the state hes been recently, he just needed to do something that felt right and it also felt right to order it to the penthouse and not his personal house, so he did. He didn't want to explain how the urge clawed at him until he gave in, how afterwards he slept better than he has in a very long time because theres no logical explanation for it.

Except there is, Jungkook is instinctively preparing for a omega to enter their lives and he doesnt even know it.

Thank you so much for reading I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Hoping to get the next one out very soon xx

Please let me know what you think! My asks are open and I try to reply to comments as fast as I can

Side note, I watched Are You Sure for most of the writing of this, not relevant but I just did because I love it.

Mwah 💖

ཐི♡ཋྀ

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Taglist : Open! Just lmk if you’d like to be added x

@m00njinnie @imeverycliche @kiki-zb @meowforluv

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yumeka-sxf · 2 months ago

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After the exciting start of a new Garden arc last time, today's new chapter did not disappoint either! First thing I noticed upon reading is - Yor's new outfit! (though you're not being very discreet with that "Garden" badge 😅)

Also that little lemur guy in the upper left of the panel is like "Wtf?!" I would think that too if a person suddenly leaped onto the tree branch next to me 🤣 (you can see him scurrying away in the next panel underneath...nice little detail from Endo there.)

Before I get into specifics of this chapter, I wanted to analyze the exchange between Yor and Hemlock in the jeep - namely, the Hemlock/Nightfall parallel, with Hemlock accusing Yor of losing her edge due to "playing house" for too long, which is exactly what Nightfall said to Twilight when she first appeared.

This made me think of an interview with Endo that was shared in the recent iterations of the SxF exhibition that's going on in Japan: when asked which character has changed the most in the series so far, he said Yor while also mentioning that Loid has barely changed. And I can see why that's the case with how Yor responded to Hemlock. Her experience during the cruise arc made her understand her own development - that now more than ever she wants to continue her work because she has more people she desires to protect.

She actually recognizes her own change and embraces it, while Loid...still hasn't gotten there yet. If we compare this exchange between Yor and Hemlock with the one between Loid and Nightfall, Loid clearly doesn't have this same self recognition about how living with the Forgers has changed him. He either genuinely doesn't know or he's in denial, which is why Nightfall is the one who points it out, and even when she tells him, he doesn't have a response.

One could argue that this may have been the case in old chapters, but ever since the mole hunt arc, he has recognized himself how he's changed. I do agree that the mole hunt arc made him realize that he's "softening" in a way, but he sees this as a detriment more than anything else. Unlike Yor who sees how her love for the Forgers has made her stronger, Loid sees it as something that will make him weaker rather than fuel his resolve.

We haven't seen much of Loid's deep inner thoughts since the end of the mole hunt arc, so only time will tell if he'll start to see his own development as something to be accepted rather than pushed away (just a note that I don't have a specific link for this part of the interview, but Fasionnessutsu shared screenshots of it in a thread here).

But anyway, back to other thoughts about this chapter, it was no surprise that even though Yor and McMahon changed into these safari-looking outfits, Hemlock is still wearing his suit. Why am I not surprised someone like him would totally refuse to wear that? 😂

And omg, the fact that Yor is still hung up about the "welcome home" kiss 😂 The fact that she's so earnest about it all this time later means...something, lol.

Also McMahon having a wife...it was kind of vague here but I wonder if she knows about his undercover work? Probably not, but would be interesting to see how much of his marital situation mirrors Yor's.

We apparently got another minor character introduced in this chapter - McMahon's pet falcon (and scouting assistant) Keekee.

In the Japanese version he calls her "Kiki-chan," with "kiki" being the sound she makes. It's nothing big, but I just found it amusing that a stoic, no-nonsense guy like McMahon calls his pet bird "-chan" 😅

The flower that Damian and company found has returned! I mentioned in my last chapter post that it may have some connection to Anya's past - we'll see!

This chapter ends on quite the cliffhanger, with Hemlock attacking Yor because, according to him, she's an impediment to his work and he's allowed to get rid of such impediments. We've already seen several examples of how quick to kill he is. Compared to Yor who tries her best to only kill "bad guys," Hemlock's first notion for anything in his way is to kill, whether it's the deer he's supposed to protect, or a fellow assassin he thinks is dragging him down.

Again, there's parallels that can be drawn between him and Nightfall, but unlike Nightfall whose obsession is fueled by idolizing Twilight, Hemlock's obsession seems to be fueled by animosity for Yor. Where that animosity came from is something we'll hopefully see in upcoming chapters. My theory is that, at some point, Hemlock idolized Yor and is now upset that she seems to have "softened," or he's always been jealous of her and now is even more enraged that she's not taking her job seriously anymore. Whatever the case is, I look forward to seeing how it plays out 👀

#spy x family #sxf #spy family #spyxfamily #loid forger #yor forger #sxf manga #sxf manga spoilers #sxf spoilers

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call-me-strega · 1 year ago

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Dc x DP Prompt #8: Best Friend’s Brother

Preface: this prompt can be used with different characters but I’m writing it as Dead on Main bc that’s my favorite. Also the colleges I mention are real colleges from the DCU

~~~

Danny Fenton was 18 when he moved to Gotham for college.

It was the only place with a half decent engineering program that would take a kid with his record; drop in grades, unexplained absences, missing class, a disciplinary record, etc. Plus there was a decent saturation of both magic and ectoplasm in Gotham’s air. After he got accepted he decided to tell his parents he was Phantom. They reacted surprisingly well all things considered. They were horrified to learn they’d been hunting their son but it quickly turned into acceptance to listen to what he had to tell them. Now they turned their obsession from hunting ghosts to learning more about ghost more humanely. He also managed to get his former rouges to agree to call off any major shenanigans in favor of less destructive outlets. (He got Ember a TikTok and a YouTube channel, he set up a drag racing circuit in the realms for Johnny and Kitty, let Technus enter the internet as long as he stayed within Amity’s grid or help Ember manage her stuff, allowed Desiree grant wishes for Make a Wish Foundation kids so long as she didn’t horribly twist them, etc.)

Now with the town not at constant risk of danger and his parents agreeing to really handle any rouge ghosts, Danny could leave Amity with a clear conscience. His friends were also growing up and heading to their own colleges. Tucker was heading to Ivy University in New England, which rivaled MIT in terms technological prestige, and Sam decided on Vandermeer University in Pittsburg, which had a reputation for being a very liberal, anti-authority campus. Although their trio would be spread out, Danny found comfort in the fact that they’d all moved from the Midwest to the Northeast.

With promises to stay in touch a visit. Danny got set up in GCU’s dorms, ready to move into the next chapter of his life.

Danny Fenton was 20 when Tim Drake (age 19 but nearing 20) officially became one of his best friends.

They had been introduced to each other by their mutual friend Sebastian Ives for a new Warlocks and Warriors campaign. Their friendship extended beyond WnW when they ended up on the same Applied Physics and Mechanics class. It was cemented when they got pair up for a project in class and had to spend lots of time around each other.

Danny didn’t mind that Tim tended to be a bit flaky and Tim didn’t mind that Danny was possibly not 100% human. They didn’t ask each other too many questions about that stuff. They knew the other had something odd about him and that was fine with them. It was nice to have a causal friend they could be normal with, without being questioned about their more peculiar behaviors.

They officially became best friends when the built a Rube Goldberg machine with a working trebuchet within an hour of the three they had to complete it for their Applied Phys-Mech final. Danny introduced Tim to Sam, Tucker and Jazz. Tim introduced him to Steph, Tam, and Cass. They texted and hung out fairly often. They truly did consider each other one their best friends.

Danny Fenton is 22 when he meets Tim’s family.

Tim’s 21st birthday is coming up and he has plans with his family the day of and is going out with his friends, including a couple from out of town, that night. They want to take him out for his first drink and it’s fortunate timing since it’s the weekend so nobody has to worry about classes. Everyone who was going was already informed that Tim would be spending most of the day with his family before Steph and Cass would bring to the club everyone was meeting up at. Which is why it’s purely a coincidence when he runs into them at BatBurger during the lunch rush.

Danny had just picked up the part-time job to earn a little extra cash to pay for his hobbies. Tim new about it but didn’t know the exact location he worked. That’s why they were both presently surprised when they heard each others voices in the drive through. When they pulled up to window Danny saw his friend leaning over a tired looking black-haired man, trying to stick his head out of the drivers window to give Danny a maniacal grin.

He quickly introduced the other passengers of the car as his dad, Bruce, and three of his brothers Dick, Jason, and Duke. He mentioned he had a fourth brother, Damian, who was still at home. Danny couldn’t really see everyone all that well on account of they were inside a car but he happily greeted them as well. They laughed and Danny wished Tim a happy birthday saying he’d see him at his celebration later tonight before handing them their food. He could the rowdy boys ribbing their brother as the car drove away and Danny resumed his work.

That incident seemed to have opened a gate because now Tim felt more comfortable inviting him over when his brothers were still around the house. He occasionally talked about his family more and Danny returned the favor letting snippets of his own family spill a little more. Occasionally, he’d see Tim’s family outside of his interactions with Tim.

He’d run into Damian, and sometimes Bruce or Dick was with him, at the museum or in the park while the younger had been walking his dog and stopped to say hi a couple of times. He chatted with Dick a couple of times when they were both in line to get coffee at a cafe. He saw Duke on a college tour once and waved at him.

The family member he probably saw the most other that Tim (and by extension Cass) was actually Jason. He’d ended up ditching BatBurger to get some more practical experience at an apprenticeship at the auto shop Jason went to to get his motorcycle serviced. The two of them got along pretty well and would often make conversation when Jason was waiting on his bike to be ready or to get his bill.

At first is was small talk about little things like how he and Tim were doing in class or how their days were going but they soon grew to have genuine interests in each other. Jason let Danny talk about space and mechanics and even gave his own thoughts sometimes, once helping Danny realize he was over complicating the circuit board of the device he was building. In return Danny let Jason ramble to him about literature, even taking the initiative to read a book Jason mentioned so he could talk to him about it better. Their conversation tended to be on the briefer side but were always enjoyable to both parties.

Danny actually liked being around Jason a lot but didn’t really bring that fact up a lot around Tim as it didn’t seem necessary. Tim was pretty glad that Danny got along with his family but he preferred to keep them in separate places in his mind. Danny knew and respected that, only really mentioning that he’d seen them recently and that they’d told him to say hi on their behalf (or die in Damian’s case occasionally).

Tim Drake was 22 when he came to a horrific realization.

Well, perhaps horrific was a bit of an exaggeration. Tim wasn’t necessarily horrified by the revelation. In all honesty he didn’t know how to feel. He felt an odd mixture of protectiveness, possessiveness, confusion, and optimism(?).

You see, Tim and Danny had been hanging out in the campus center, studying and goofing off when he got a text from Jason saying he was coming to pick him up for family dinner at the manor since he was closest and Dick was busy picking up Duke and Damian from their after school clubs.

“What’s up?” Danny asked him curiously.

Tim set his phone on the table and started putting his stuff away. “My brother is coming to pick me up for family dinner so I gotta head out soon.”

“Ah well I should probably get going too. Tell Dick I said hi.”

“Actually, it’s Jason. Dick is picking up Duke and Damian,” he said shoving his textbook into his bag.

“Oh? That’s nice of him. Hey do you wanna just head out together?” Danny asked, fidgeting with his hoodie strings.

Tim noticed a slight strain in Danny’s voice at the mention of Jason but didn’t comment. He just nodded his head sure and walked outside with Danny. They got out to the street when Tim realized he’d left his phone in the library. He faced palmed and asked Danny if he could hold his stuff so it wouldn’t slow him down as he ran back to the campus center to get his phone. Danny agreed to and hold his stuff and wait for Jason while Tim went back.

After getting his phone Tim started heading back to where he left Danny when he saw that Jason had arrived that Jason had arrived and was talking to Danny. He was about to call out to them when he noticed several things in quick succession. Danny was fidgeting with his hoodie, something he tended to do when nervous. The tips of Danny’s ears were a light shade of pink (it isn’t cold out yet?). Danny looked deeply absorbed in his conversation with Jason in a way that reminded Tim of how he talked about space. And Jason seemed just as absorbed in the conversation as well.

The gears in Tim’s head went into overdrive and he realized ‘Ah- Danny has a crush on Jason’. His eyes widened as his head whipped around to examine Jason again. He saw a look of genuine fondness in his eyes. Thus Tim was confronted with the aforementioned horrific realization and complicated feelings. Tim didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or both.

‘My dumbass best friend has a crush on my brother. And worse(?), my idiot brother returns those feelings.’

#dc x dp #long post #dead on main #danny fenton #tim drake #jason todd #jason todd x danny fenton #danny and tim are bffs #Danny has a crush on his best friends older brother #he hasn’t realized this quite yet #Tim isn’t sure how to feel about this #Jason probably likes Danny too but also doesn’t realize it #Tim is the only one who is aware and suffering #he has to make a choice:#wingman his idiot friend and idiot brother #or hoard his friend to himself #Strega’s dc x dp prompt

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reidingandwriting · 9 months ago

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Nice To Meet Ya! > w.w. & l.h.

Word Count: ~1,900

Pairings: Wade Wilson x Reader, Logan Howlett x Reader, it’s (the beginning of) a throuple over here

Warnings: Fem!reader (she pronouns used like. twice in the very end), to be expected amounts of cursing and vulgarity from Wade, lots of cursing in general tbh, maybe a little OOC Logan, still getting to learn how to write his character well (Deadpool and Wolverine gave me brain worms so I had to write this immediately after watching)

A/N: This may become a little bit of a series! I’m having so much fun writing them since I Finally watched Deadpool and Wolverine so there will be a lot of solo & duo content with these two. This part is a little Wade focused but the next part is more Logan focused 🫶🏻

Next Chapter

You never in a million years imagined this would be your life. You were raised by busy parents, and you quickly became self sufficient. Independent. When you hit your teenage years, your parents… god knows where they went, to be honest. All you knew is you had a house to yourself, you didn’t have friends anymore, and as lonely as it was, you found a bit of comfort in the solitude. You worked as a bartender at this bar not too far from your house, and you were a crowd favorite. You always brought in the biggest tips and many of the patrons were protective over you.

Your longest regular was the merc with a mouth- Deadpool. Wade, as he introduced himself once, a faint whisper. The fabric of his mask rubbing against your cheek as he whispered the name in your ear. Wade Wilson.

He was... Loud, to say the least. You didn’t think he had an off switch. He insisted he did- but you’d have to go under his suit to find it, he teased you. He never stopped talking and there was no such thing as small talk with him; if you were talking to him, he was downright vulgar, and the quite frankly gross sense of humor was entertaining. He also flirted like it was his job. Much like the rest of his vocabulary, his flirting was pure filth that would make even the most seasoned sailor blush. And god forbid any creep start talking to you.

“Hey, princess, sorry I’m late. Too busy blowing my load to the thought of you, then remembered, wait! I can come see your fine ass in person whenever I want. Wanna finish me off?” You could practically feel the smirk Wade was sending you. You gestured for him to lean in, waiting until he was leaned against the bar, chest hovering above the countertop as you leaned in.

“In your dreams, dick for brains.” Your lips brushed against where his were covered by his mask, and you smirked when you heard the sharp intake of breath. The gasp almost impossible to hear, but it made your heart flutter all the same.

“You, sweet thang? Always. Holy fucking shit, that was so hot.” You and Wade had quickly become friends, his personality meshing well with yours. After ‘baby knife’ had somehow found itself in the hand of some perv that had been borderline stalking you at work for weeks, you found a new part of his personality. His protectiveness. He was as chipper as ever, but with the manic energy of someone who could, and would, kill someone who mildly inconvenienced someone he cared for. Unhinged, barely holding onto his minimal self restraint to splatter the guy’s blood all over the wall. Wouldn’t want you to have a mess to clean up, he admitted once it was just the two of you.

He offered to walk you home once after he’d known you for a few weeks, and now it was habit. You loved the times you had with just him. He was the same old Wade, but more open about himself. More vulnerable. These walks were where you got to know Wade, and he got to know you. You had let him crash one night, not that long ago, when it was storming hard. He had already insisted on walking you home, storm be damned, and you repaid him with a home cooked meal, some trashy movie, and a night of conversation on your couch until you dozed off, your head lolling to the side and landing on his shoulder.

Hours later, you had woken up, now lying down and the comfortable weight of Wade’s hand in your hair from where your head rested on his thighs. By the time the sun rose, you were alone in your living room, the only trace Wade had been there being a sloppy drawing of the Deadpool mask and a heart he scribbled on the whiteboard of your fridge. You smiled at the doodle and left it up, it still being up there today.

You stood at your spot behind the bar a few weeks later when someone new walked into the building, and you tilted your head. Newcomers weren’t entirely unheard of, but they were pretty rare, especially on a weekday. You took in the man as he stood near the doorway; brown hair, and oh fuck, good beard. The leather jacket he wore did little to hide how muscular he was and you watched as he scanned the room. Body tense, as if looking for potential threats. Potential ways out if danger occurred. Not like anyone would mess with him, aura alone enough to scare off anyone within a ten foot radius, let alone the hard look in his eyes.

Still, he walked over to the bar and took a seat. You offered a gentle smile, watching for another second before speaking. “You seem like a whiskey fan.”

His hazel gaze shifted up to meet your eyes, and you felt as if he was staring right into your god damned soul. It was intimidating, it was hot, and you couldn’t decide whether you should look away or lean in and-

“Yeah. Whiskey’s nice.” He nodded his head towards a bottle behind you. You nodded and went to pour a glass as he spoke again. “You always try to guess orders?”

“Only the interesting ones. Or the pretty ones.” You winked before turning, smiling when you heard the slightest huff of amusement. “Haven’t seen you here before. New in town?”

“Somethin’ like that.” You turned back around, setting the glass in front of him, propping up on your elbows as he drank. “Thanks.” He looked familiar but god, you couldn’t place where you had seen him before. You made light conversation, most of the talking done by you, but you found that you didn’t mind. He listened, intently. Everything he did seemed to be intense, like it was his default. You were grateful for the slow night, getting to see a glimpse of the man behind the bulletproof walls he had clearly built around himself.

“You thirsty slut! Of course I’d find you here.” You heard Wade’s voice before you saw him, and an annoyed scowl took over the unknown man’s face.

“Thirsty slut? Thought that was your autobiography title,” you said and Wade gasped in mock offense.

“You know I don’t read! Mocking the illiterate, how dare you?” Wade hopped onto the counter, hip almost knocking the glass of whiskey over.

“I don’t get how you’re late to a place you wanted to go to.” The brunette man said, voice low and rough, and Wade waved a hand dismissively.

“So uptight, can you believe it? Need to pull the stick out of your ass, maybe put it in-“

“La la la la la, not listening,” you sang, covering your ears, and Wade turned to you.

“You traitor! I leave you alone for five minutes and Wolvie has his claws in you.” Wolvie… Holy fuck, you were trying to flirt with the Wolverine. “And, Peanut, you know I’d never be late on purpose. Except I really needed to piss, then I got distracted by this really cute dog outside and I ended up totally abandoning my favorite dog.” Wade reached out to pat him, and you watched as a sliver of claws extended from his hands. A warning that didn’t seem to deter Wade much, but he did put his hand down. “Well, might as well introduce you.” Wade told you his name was Logan, and Wade told Logan your name in return.

You and Wade continued to talk, Logan yet again preferring to listen rather than join the conversation. Wade told the story of how he met Logan, how together the two of them essentially saved the world, and how the two of them were now roommates. Begrudgingly, according to Logan, but Wade seemed thrilled about his ‘roomie’.

It was hours later when the three of you left the bar. Wade insisted on walking you home, taking your hand in his and skipping down the street with you. Logan was a few paces behind you, his presence a comforting sense behind you. Where Wade was loud, in your face, Logan seemed to be the quiet lurker type. He’d hide in the shadows, making himself known when he felt threatened. You walked up to your front door, unlocking the door and Wade helped himself inside. You rolled your eyes and turned to Logan, who lingered on your doorstep.

“If you want to come in, you’re more than welcome. At least one of you has manners,” you called towards where Wade stood in your kitchen and cackled. Logan nodded, muttering a ‘Thank you’ as he walked inside, his shoulder brushing against yours gently. You shut the door behind you and Wade opened your fridge.

“Aww, pookie, you kept my drawing!” There was a hint of an unfamiliar emotion in his voice… something, something new. You couldn’t place it, yet you smiled anyways.

“Of course I did, Wade.” Now that you were in the safety of your house, Wade’s mask had been discarded on your kitchen counter and you could see the smile on his face. “Get out of my fridge, you leech.“

“I’m starving,” Wade whined and you turned to look at Logan. He stood a little awkwardly, and you gestured to the couch, taking a seat and smiling when he followed suit. He sat on the cushion furthest from you, but you didn’t question it.

Logan couldn’t help but study you. There was an obvious familiarity between you and Wade, you matching his wit and comebacks, but you were different when you spoke to him. You were quieter, more reigned in. Strangely not out of fear, but as if you were trying to make him comfortable. You switched between Wade and Logan like it was second nature, and the more he talked to you and the more he watched you and Wade, he felt himself begin to relax just a little.

He didn’t realize how much time had passed until Wade, ever the charmer, let out a dramatic yawn, throwing his hands up in the air as he stretched. “Well, cupcake. I think it’s about time we head home. Old man is already up way past his bedtime.” Wade yelped as he jumped back, barely missing the claws that protruded from Logan’s hand, and he stuck his tongue out at him. “Grumpy grandpa.”

You stood and Logan followed suit. Wade kissed your cheek before saying goodbye and stepping outside, leaving you and Logan alone.

“I hope I’ll see you again, Logan.” Your voice was gentle, your smile even more so, and Logan nodded.

“I’ll be around. Don’t think I have much of a choice with that one.” There was a sliver of fondness mixed with the exasperation in his voice, and Logan started to walk outside. “Goodnight, bub.” Logan closed the door behind him, lingering until he heard your locks click shut. He caught up with Wade a moment later and Wade gave him the biggest shit eating grin ever.

“Is someone melting the big bad wolf’s heart?” The metallic clang followed by Wade’s pained grunt made Logan laugh, and Wade shoved his shoulder.

“Wait until she sees what an asshole you are. Then she’ll realize I’m the better half of this friendship.” The two men continued to bicker the entire way home, both of them thinking about when they’d get to see you next.

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funpoire · 4 months ago

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What I think is going to happen in book 8

this post is a side note for me. to see if my medium power is real. Also, I would love to know what you guys think

Sebek and yuu friendship. I think Sebek will be introduced in the first-year group by Yuu.

Mickey comes back. I think in this book we will see him even more. Understand why he is in the mirror.

Finally, understand the weird dream Yuu had. Why do they dream of the Great 7, why it’s happening before before/during overblot?

Crowley's true self (not him being Malleus's father). He is the reason Grim overblot I’m telling you. Look at this post for more info about why I think he is a bad guy

Yuu going home without telling anyone / not on purpose. 1) Trying to reach Mickey and traverse the mirror in their room like Alice. 2) Crowley tries the spell to go home and make a mistake.

Yuu is not going home I’m telling you. They are going to be in some different place with Mickey or related to the great Seven (omg yuu going back in time)

Yes this thing is only around yuu cause I need more content with the mc

Ace flirting with yuu (trying to at least have something right). Or at least Ace finally showing he does care about Yuu deeply.

First year sleepover before yuu go home. Very hurt/comfort scene. Where they all got their bed next to each other.

Lot of tears

Grim overblot after yuu go home because he is so sad and can’t absorb the blot anymore.

Yuu coming back and finding a way to travel between words

The ending being « and it was just a dream » (I’m burning aniplex if this is the ending)

The theory that yuu is dead being confirmed. I’m not really into this theory but there are so many references to death that I can a little bit understand why this theory exists in the first place. But maybe this theory could have a twist like everyone at home thinks yuu is dead. If you know what I mean

The theory of time loops. Imagine 2 seconds reading a chapter and then in it boom the game acts like it reset. That would be so cool. (Rip 4th wall)

Oh, you think Book 7 was giving you a heart attack? Get ready for book 8 with more lore drops, more « Omg is he dead » and ofc « Where is yuu? ». Book 7 was the calme before the storm

Even longer book

Yuu and grim relationship getting more developed with angst and trauma

The basic “let’s all remember the good times” and it’s a flashback of all the sweet moments in each book. This is the most basic thing media have ever done and i fear twisted wonderland will do the same. Not complaining ofc.

I smell the fan service for shipper in this book don’t know why. I know twisted wonderland is not a game to do that kind of thing (they are) but i can already imagine a chapter were you wondering if the character is truly talking about friendship or trying to have more. i’m watching you adeuce

They all using the power of friendship

At the end ramshackle dorm will be used by all the student to hangout or even maybe be a new dorm. Seems like bittersweet because that means Yuu’s home getting use for something else after they are gone.

Grim : 1) going back to his original habitat or even owner (i will hit my head against a wall) 2) getting adopted by adeuce or Idia (again hitting my head against the wall) after yuu is gone

Bittersweet ending. I don’t like bad ending but i feel like the ending would feel sad cause at the end of the day yuu have to go home and leave all the memories behind them.

Timeskip: First years being dorm leader or being third year now (tears and hitting the wall)

A possible RSA development

The more i think about this book the more i feel like going to therapy.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twst mc #twisted wonderland yuu #yuu oc #twst yuu #ace trappola #twst sebek #twisted wonderland sebek #sebek zigvolt #ace twst #ace twisted wonderland #dire crowley #book 8 #book 8 twst #twst theory

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animasola86 · 4 months ago

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LOST & FOUND 🫂 CH8

To further guide you into your new life, Mommy takes you to a sex shop, introducing you to the benefits of certain toys...

soft!Daddy!dom x Mommy!domme x little girl!reader

WARNINGS: F!Reader insert. NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Mommy/Daddy kink. Dd/Md/lg dynamics. Dom/sub undertones. Pet names. Sex shop. Sex toys/vibrators. Semi-public assisted masturbation. Vaginal fingering. Fluff. (More notes under the cut!)

WORDS: 5.8k 🔷️ READ ON AO3 🔷️ 1–2–3–4–5–6 7–8–9–10–11–12

A/N: Mommy POV incoming! Age and name reveal (again) because she is an original character (inspired by the women I tagged). We learn a bit more about her life and the world she lives in. (Reminder that this is a fictional relationship borrowing elements from Dom/sub and caregiver/little dynamics. I'm taking massive creative liberties here!) By the way, the next two chapters will have no Daddy in them, I'm sorry, I don't know what happened, Mommy took over. He'll be back soon though! (More info on Reader in previous A/Ns.)❗ (Please READ THIS if you're confused about the tags I listed this under!)❗

Chapter 7 🔷️ Chapter 8 🔷️ Chapter 9

After lunch, Isabella decided to finally confront you with the things she only ever teased at, the implications, the ideas, the expectations. She knew you still had no idea what it really meant to be a submissive, their submissive even, as eager as you were, and as grateful to be off the streets and heading towards a new chapter of your life. It was cute how clueless you were.

She knew that Noah had already taken it further than she had initially planned their little arrangement to go, the horny bastard, but that was part of his charm, and luckily you hadn't shied away from his advances. Indeed he seemed to have pulled you in fully, with whatever he had done to you. So as furious and jealous as she had been when he had whisked you away over night without telling her, she was glad about it too.

Now she didn't have to beat around the bush anymore.

And so she took you to Lady Noir's Naughty Needs, a horrible name for a sex shop, but the selection was good, it was discreet (she preferred to enter the store through the back entrance like she preferred to enter most things, to be honest) and subtle enough to trick you into a sense of safety.

Lady Noir, who was a very tall and very creative transwoman, with a voice that was either like nails on a chalkboard or a good scratch down the back, had done a splendid job in dressing the shop in elegant blacks and reds, lots of velvet and lace, it was extravagant like herself, but also comfortable enough to soothe the nerves of an anxious girl – and you were indeed quite taken aback as Isabella took your hand and led you through the door along the black velvet covered hallway into one of the 'testing booths'.

You took a timid look around the small space, wide eyes scanning the black leather couch as she motioned you to sit down. You looked so cute and fashionably out of place with your pink sundress, side braid and white frilly ankle socks. Soft lighting illuminated the otherwise dark room, but nothing could hide the dusting of heat on your cheeks.

On a low table in front of the couch sat a thick catalog, and as Isabella sat down next to you, she pulled it towards you and flipped it open. “Now, shall we talk openly, cariño?” she asked, turning back to look at you. Your eyes were glued to the selection of various sex toys on the pages in front of you.

You blinked before you met her gaze. “Yes?” you mused, looking at her like a deer in headlights.

“You agreed to be our submissive,” Isabella started quietly, “and while I did explain a few details to you, I just want to make it clear what it is we're expecting of you.”

You nodded, listening closely, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth.

“You, the submissive, are to give up control to us, your Dominants, me and Noah, your Mommy and Daddy. You will do as we say, you will trust us to know your limits, you will let go for us. We want you to be our little girl, someone to cuddle and pamper and take care of, someone to make us feel good. While we might be considered your caregivers, we will not only guide you through life, we will also do with you as we please.”

She watched you as she talked, and when she paused, she tapped her fingernails on the catalog on the table. You held her gaze, anxious but curious, attentive and alert.

“This is first and foremost a sexual arrangement, mi amor, this shouldn't be a surprise to you considering the things we did already experience together, hm?” She leaned towards you a little, her hand moving to rest on your thigh, fingers curling around it. “And as you never said anything against it, I can assume you are okay with us touching you like we did?”

“Y-yes, Mommy,” you murmured without hesitation.

“Are you a virgin, darling?”

“No,” you said, averting your eyes as shame crashed through you.

Isabella knew, or at least put the pieces together in a way, that you were raised rather conservative with how you struggled to talk about things that should be natural. It still came as a surprise to her that you apparently already lost your virginity.

She raised her eyebrows in a questioning fashion, and you added: “High school boyfriend, didn't last very long after...”

“Ah,” she made, squeezing your leg. “I see. What a shame, I'm sorry. But trust me, we will appreciate you for much longer, as long as you will let us.”

“B-but I don't... don't have much experience...”

“And that's okay, you don't have to. You just have to be open to new things. Are you open to new things, honey?” Isabella whispered, leaning closer, a smile on her lips.

You bit your lip, but quickly nodded again. “Yes.”

“Good,” she said, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “Can I assume you never had sex with a woman before?”

Her question made you flinch a little, which she laughed softly at. “I... uh, I kissed a girl before, before you, obviously, but no... uh... no s-sex...”

“And do you want to have sex with a woman?”

You just nodded, staring at your lap, at her hand firmly pressed between your tight thighs.

“And what about being sandwiched between a man and a woman, at the same time?”

You looked up then, still chewing on your lips. “If... if that's okay... with you...”

She chuckled. “Sweetheart, it's what we want! Both of us. We will have our fun individually, but mostly, we want to share you. This is for us too, you know? Trying out new things. Like you, sweet girl.” She slipped her hand lower, under the hem of your dress. “But don't think it'll just be you and Daddy having fun while I watch, or you and me with him watching, no, I really mean share. You were made to handle both of us at once, you know?”

You frowned at that, squirming a little against her hand.

Isabella sighed. “Okay, let me be blunt, my dear,” she started, scooting closer, retrieving the hand from between your thighs to wrap her arm around your shoulders, pulling you against her. Her other hand found your chin, turning your head so she could whisper into your ear. “Have you ever had anything up your pretty little bum, mi amor?”

The heat that radiated off you was instant. She laughed softly, brushing her lips against your ear. You croaked out a barely audible “No”.

“Mhmm,” she hummed, tracing the tip of her tongue along the shell of your ear. “A sweet little virgin bum... the things I will make you feel, cariño. I can't wait...” She pressed her cheek to yours and made you look back at the table. “We're here to buy some new toys, you know? I'm in need of a new strap, and as it's going up your butt, you're here to pick one out. That okay with you?”

Your face was positively burning. You were staring at the catalog, at the picture of a woman wearing a strap-on with another woman kneeling in front of her, ass up, aesthetically positioned to only suggest the action. Then you started shaking, your breaths rasping past your parted lips. “I... I don't know...” you whimpered quietly, unable to pry your gaze away from the scene on the table.

“Hmm, I know it sounds scary, but it will feel so good, darling. Just imagine riding Daddy's cock, his hands on your hips, you looking deep into his pretty eyes, and I'm behind you, stuffing your other hole, filling you up so much you can barely breathe. But oh the sensations... I can assure you it will be like nothing you've ever experienced...” Sighing deeply, she rubbed her cheek against yours, feeling the warmth burning under your skin. Her arms wrapped fully around you, pressing you against her chest. “Don't be afraid, sweet pea, it'll be amazing. Your head will be so empty, you will not have a worry in the world!”

She felt you swallowing hard, your breaths still a little labored. Your heart must be beating out of your chest. It amused her more than she wanted to admit. She could imagine this to be absolutely terrifying for someone who'd only had her cherry popped unceremoniously by some clumsy boy, dumped after and never had any real sexual adventures since then. To fall into the hands of an unconventional couple who enjoyed all aspects of kink in a very excessive way must be quite overwhelming.

But you had to see the benefits of it too. One day you would. She knew for a fact that sex in any form was a great way to battle any kind of anxiety, having been there herself. When she was your age (which was only about ten years ago), she found herself in a world where she didn't belong, or got told this by anyone around her. To not just be a woman, but a Latina, in a world full of old white men, trying to convince conservative and sometimes racist people to see her vision, had been exhausting and discouraging to say the least.

But then she had met Noah, also still a greenhorn, a young man with great potential, working harder than anyone she'd ever come across. While she was battling prejudices and stereotypes, he'd battled the fierce competition, but he still managed to push his company into higher spheres, network his way around, grow roots in a world full of gardeners who loved to cut down anyone to even attempt to toss them off their thrones.

She had been drawn to his dominant aura, to the way he filled a room, became the center of attention without doing much. At first she'd submitted to him, wanted to learn and soak up anything he could teach her, but he soon turned her into craving more, make her own success, dominate as well, become the one to turn heads, and not just for her looks and aura, but also for her sharp tongue and brilliant ideas.

He gave her the confidence she needed (by sharing the power, both in the office and in bed), and she was grateful, and she knew it could benefit you as well. She wanted to make you shine again, be someone, find yourself, let go of all the crippling fear and doubts, and the only way how was by being pounded senseless. She'd gone there, and she'd see to it that you went there too. It would help you so much to just let go and take whatever she and Noah gave you.

You still seemed anxious, though. She hugged you tighter, kissed your warm cheek. “Don't be scared,” she whispered once more. “We'll ease you into it, one little push at a time. It may sound like a lot, but I'll make sure you won't be overwhelmed, unless you come to the point where you want to be overwhelmed, of course. Oh, cariño, it's the best feeling to let go and just take, to let it happen, to lose control. Trust me, I've been there. You'll love it.”

Your breathing eased a little as you leaned into her, but she could tell it would be a long journey to get you to be completely comfortable with anything sex related. Maybe it hadn't been the best idea to take you to Lady Noir, but you were here now, so why not throw you into the deep end and get it over with.

As if she'd been waiting for her cue, the store owner then entered the small room, rapping her knuckles on the door. “Well, hello there,” the tall woman cooed, her deep voice thrumming through the air. “Who have we here? Aren't you the cutest little bean I've ever seen!”

You stared up at the towering presence of Lady Noir who was wearing a tight black skirt and an even tighter black top, accentuating toned arms and an impressive bust that even rivaled Isabella's, who leaned back and crossed her legs, smiling. “This is Lady Noir, darling, say hello,” she whispered, nudging your side gently.

You cleared your throat, attempting something of a bow that made her smirk. “H-hello,” you said quietly, introducing yourself.

Noir leaned in and grabbed your extended hand with both of hers, so large they dwarfed your small one, her dark skin shining in the dim light. “Oh I am delighted, little one.” She smiled at you, squeezing your hand before releasing it again and sitting down on the edge of the table, where she crossed her legs and faced you and Isabella on the couch. “So, what brings you here? Need any new toys, Bella?”

Isabella laughed softly, tilting her head. “You know me so well,” she said. “Well, as you can see, we got ourselves a little girl, finally. And she is so perfect, the perfect little thing, aren't you, honey?” She looked at you, and you met her gaze, highly embarrassed. “So humble and shy,” she added, raising her hand to pat your warm cheek. “Obviously, we want to ease her into it gently,” she said, turning back to Noir.

The other woman nodded, her chin resting on her palm with her elbow on her knee, her long legs toned and smooth, exquisite black high heels on her feet that swayed with her motions. “Of course, don't want to break the precious thing, hm?” she mused, her dark eyes gleaming. Today she had her black locks arranged in intricate rows of thick braids that swirled around her head like large snakes. “Do you have any experience with sex toys, my dear?” she addressed you with a soft tone.

You looked up, blinking in confusion (such a cute look on you). Then you shook your head.

“No? Not even improvised one? Ever stuck a pen in there? Or a cucumber?”

Your eyes widened, and you looked down, shaking your head more furiously, your hands clenching around the hem of your dress.

“What about fingers? Come on, baby girl, I'm sure you have at least tried your tiny little digits before? Rubbed a little? Dipped a bit?”

Isabella saw you swallowing, watching you curiously. You gave the tiniest of nods, just a jerk, a shudder through your body. Noir chuckled deeply.

“That's all good, little one. No one's born a porn star, right? Well, I was, but let's not talk about me,” she laughed. Her words made you look up with something like confused interest. She took the catalog into her hands and flipped through the pages. “You know, this should be obvious, but self love is so important, such a natural thing. Best to relieve tension, to clear the mind, to focus on other important things. Flicking your bean really is nothing to be ashamed of. But if you prefer to let others work for you, I can only recommend a variety of these,” she added, holding out the catalog towards you, open on two pages full of various vibrators.

Your eyes scanned the items, and Isabella could see the heat crashing into your head. You were shaking like a leaf. She pulled one arm around you, settling her hand on your waist, scooting closer to you. “It's alright, honey,” she soothed quietly. “Do you want to pick something?”

You blinked, your eyes watering the longer you stared at the items. “I... I don't know...” you breathed shakily.

“Pick a color,” Noir chimed in. “We'll pick the rest for you, hm, sweetheart?”

It came to nobody's surprise that your finger hovered over the more subtle colors, a light pink, a faded purple, a soft blue. Isabella gave you a kiss on the cheek. “Good girl, good choices,” she whispered before she looked up at Noir. “Can you give us some of the smallest now? We'll come back once she's more accustomed.”

The other woman nodded with a wide smile. “Of course. Shall I slip in one bigger one, just to test the waters?” She gave Isabella a wink, who nodded with a smirk.

“Please do, I know you know best.”

“I do, darling, I do.” She stood up then, flipping the catalog as she turned slightly. “Oh, how about these? I can get them in all sizes and the colors she chose?”

Isabella laughed, following the finger pressed to a page full of strap-ons. Normally she'd prefer black ones, harness and dildo, but these came in soft pinks as well. If it would ease your nerves, she'd switch out her old set-up. Not that you would see a lot of what would be going on behind you, but maybe the idea of having something girly stuck in your butt would help with the sensations. (It would also be better to train your other holes, including your throat, with something that didn't look as intimidating.)

“Good thinking,” she said. “I'll take these, and two of those,” she said, nodding at Noir, showing her her selection. She'd go for pink, but the sizes were non-negotiable. You'd get used to it.

The tall woman nodded. “Anything else?”

“Get us a lot of lube,” she added with a wink, leaning back, her arm still around you. “I'm sure we'll need it.”

A shiver crashed through you, but you didn't show any more reactions, probably stuck in your own head, worrying your little brains out. This wasn't to humiliate or embarrass you, it was to show you aspects of your new life, of the world you had entered. She hoped you'd see that one day.

“Can we stay here for a moment longer?” Isabella then asked as Noir turned to leave, ready to prepare her order.

“Of course, anything for you, my love,” she said with a soft smile. “Do you need anything? To take the edge of?” Her last words were lower, only meant for Isabella's ears.

She just looked at the other woman, who understood without words before she bowed her head and gave her a wink, then disappeared through the door. You seemed to relax a little once Noir's towering frame had left the small room. Breathing deep, you settled against Isabella.

“Relax, mi amor, Mommy's got you,” she cooed, pulling you closer until your head rested on her chest, her fingers gliding over your head. “Why are you nervous?”

You took a shuddering breath. “It... it's all so new... to me...” you replied quietly.

She nodded, leaning down to press her lips to the top of your head. “I bet, but don't be overwhelmed. Like Noir said, this is all natural. Nothing perverse or filthy about self pleasure, or pleasure in general. It'll help you.”

Before you could say anything to that, the door opened again, another woman, one of Noir's assistants, came in, carrying a tray with two glasses of champagne and a small (bright pink) egg-shaped object next to them. She put the tray down and bowed her head, before leaving without a word.

You stared at what had been brought in. “Want to pick it up?” Isabella asked quietly. You sat up straighter on the couch, swallowing audibly. “It's just a little vibe, honey, feel its texture, its weight, turn it on, test it out.” She grabbed one of the champagne flutes and took a sip, watching you.

It took you a long moment before you reached out to the item, tentatively sliding your finger over it. She could tell you'd never used anything like this before, you even held it by its thick tail as you finally picked it up. She leaned in and switched the sides, letting the heavier egg-shaped part rest on your palm while she pressed the button on the end of the tail. You flinched when the vibrations buzzed in your hand.

“You wanna test it out?” she mused softly, pressing her shoulder into yours. “Don't worry, it's clean and safe. You can trust Lady Noir, she's the best.”

“She's a little... intimidating,” you whispered, skillfully ignoring her question. “So tall, and her voice...”

“Wait till you see her naked,” Isabella laughed, letting it slide. “She has the biggest cock you'll ever see in your life. And that thing is intimidating!”

You stared at her, confusion washing over you. “But... she's a...”

“She was born a man, dear,” she said with a gentle smile. “Started in the adult film industry when she was just eighteen, then quickly figured she didn't like being an anonymous cock. I still envy the boob job they did on her, so impressive. She moved into the spotlight, made quite a name for herself, The Black Switch, they called her, but as all things are eventually, she left the porn biz to start her own, creating the best sex toys you'll ever use. The softest feel, the most power,” she added, stroking the vibrating item on your palm. “Do you want me to help you with it?”

You bit your lip, staring at the pink object before you blinked and looked up at her with wide eyes. “Here?” you squeaked.

“Why not? We're all alone here. The walls are thick, nobody is coming in. It's just us, sweetheart, and you've been alone with Mommy before, haven't you?”

She took the vibe off your hand and turned it off, scooting back on the couch. Then she pulled you into her lap, your back resting against her shoulder, legs draped over her thigh. She nudged them apart and gently pushed the hem of your dress up.

“Do you trust Mommy?” she whispered into your ear, her breath ghosting your skin.

“Yes,” you replied quietly, settling against her, allowing her to push your legs further apart until they fell open over her own.

“Good girl,” she praised, the hand holding the toy pressing against your stomach, the other moving under your dress, her fingers teasing at your crotch. It was warm and damp already. As much as you fought these things, you were still clearly affected by them. Her dirty talk, the pictures of the toys, the prospect of using them. It got to you, and she was glad.

She rubbed your mound for a moment, feeling the fabric of your underwear sticking to your slick skin. You tried to relax on her lap, but your breaths came out labored, your lips parted and trembling, your body stiffening under her ministrations. She moved her fingertip along the edge of your panties, slowly pulling them away from your cunt, exposing your hot skin.

Her other hand shifted the vibe and turned it back on, on the lowest setting, a gentle hum, but when she brought it down between your legs and teased it against your hooded clit, you gave a sudden jolt, almost slipping off her lap.

“Easy, mi amor, just relax. Let it happen,” she cooed. You inhaled deeply, leaning into her. “Good, just breathe, let me make you feel good...”

She pressed the vibrating object back against your smooth mound, sliding it along your slit, letting you feel the soft buzzing. Little gasps escaped you that made her stomach tense. So adorable. Her fingers soaked in your wetness when she moved the toy against your core, and as she gave your clit a little prodding, she imagined feeling it throb against her tongue, the idea of licking up your slick making her close her eyes, a low moan rasping through her.

“Oh my precious little girl, you feel so sweet, I bet you taste just as amazing. I can't wait to dip my tongue into you,” she whispered into your ear, relishing in the shudders crashing through you, both from her words and the constant buzz against your sensitive bud. “Will you let Mommy eat you out, sweet girl? Can I have you for dinner tonight?”

You gasped, your body shivering against her. “Yes, Mommy,” you moaned quietly.

She continued holding the vibe against you, imagining the flush of your skin, the constant drip of arousal, the sweet scent filling her nostrils when she would eventually bury her face in your cunt. She couldn't wait, but she had to. This was not the place for something so intimate and new to you, no matter how private they were right now. This was just to get you to relax, let go, feel the power of pleasure wiping the worries away.

When you started grinding your hips against her hand and ultimately the vibrator, she pressed it harder between your labia, nudging your clit, letting it slide up and down, every thrum sending little shivers up your body while little mewls slipped out of your throat. Your hands were gripping the fabric of your dress bunched up in front of your stomach, chest heaving as your breaths quickened, and when she finally pushed the egg-shaped toy lower, against your entrance, you gave a shrill little squeak as it slipped into your cunt, swallowed by greedy muscles, clenching tightly.

Isabella added a finger, wanting to feel the contractions of your sweet pussy around the buzzing item, and you threw your head back against her shoulder, moaning quietly, your noises tense and muffled, and she told herself to teach you to be really loud, to let it all out, to not care about anyone hearing you. One day. For now she quite enjoyed your little squeaks and yelps and gasps, the way your body squirmed on her lap, your thighs twitching, itching to snap together if it wasn't for her hand holding them open.

“Feels nice, doesn't it?” she whispered, kissing the shell of your ear. Her index finger nudged the toy a little deeper, its thick tail coiled around her pinky to hold it in place.

She pushed and prodded, watching your reaction, and when you suddenly stiffened, a voiceless shriek parting your lips further, she knew she'd found the right spot. Holding the vibe in place, letting it buzz softly against your sensitive nerves, she savored the fight you fought, struggling against the pleasure building up inside you.

“Yes, just like that, baby, let it happen. Purr for me, kitten...” Her pinky curled, pressing the button at the toy's tail, increasing the vibrations.

You mewled, moaned, gasped, writhing against her, your hands grasping for her arm, to hold it there or pull it away, she wasn't sure, and neither were you.

She watched you, how you tilted your head back, eyes squeezed shut, lips trembling, cheeks aflame, chest rising and falling faster, straining against the stiff fabric of your dress, your legs kicking uncontrollably, little twitches all through your body, and she held the vibrator inside you, along with two of her fingers, feeling the soft clenching of your walls, the slick amassing in her hand, dripping out of you with every new wave of pleasure.

You came with a soft gasp, melting into her embrace, hips stuttering, thighs spasming, your hand tightening around her wrist before you relaxed, let go, slid away into the bliss pulsing through you. She tugged at the toy and pulled it out, then turned it off, cradling it in her hand for a moment, warm and wet, as she let you come down from your high.

“My good girl,” she sighed softly. “That was beautiful, so beautiful, just like you.”

You turned your head and buried your burning face in the crook of her neck, your body boneless on her lap. She wrapped her free arm around you, and you settled against her, legs pulled up, your hands clutching at her waist as you held onto her. Your breaths were still labored, hot against her neck, but any kind of tension was gone from your body.

She brought the wet vibe to her eyes, watching your slick glistening in the dim lights. Inhaling deeply, she filled her nostrils with your sweet scent, she even moved it closer, cradling it in her hand but then only extended the fingers that had been inside you. Her tongue swiped along her fingertips, her moans loud in your ear as she licked your wetness off her skin.

“You taste divine, my sweet,” she whispered, breathing deeply. “Thank you for indulging me.”

You hummed into her, a sleepy little thing in her arms, cooing softly. “Thank you, Mommy,” she heard your faint voice. “I think... I needed that...”

She chuckled. “I'm sure you did, always happy to lend a hand, mi amor. You can just ask, okay? I will give you anything you want. You are my sweet little girl after all.”

You gave another hum in response, snuggling into her.

She allowed you a few more minutes, just sitting with you, holding you, enjoying your presence. You leaned into her, so fragile in a way, such a cute thing, slipping more and more into your role as if it was an inborn instinct to act like this. She'd known you were perfect, from the moment she'd seen you sitting on the street, so lost and lonely and anxious, your eyes so hollow and hopeless. If she'd believe in it, she'd say it was love at first sight.

Whatever one would call it, it was the moment she truly felt the need to nurse you, help you, pamper you. She had spent the last decade on top, dominating, putting people down, showing them their place, always below her. But with you, it felt different. She'd still be telling you what to do, but for the first time in her life, it would be in a nice way, a caring way. It was all new to her too, but it felt right, you made it so easy to hug you and care for you, to let her own softer side shine through while she vowed to make you feel good.

Whatever the future held, she knew it would be glorious. She couldn't wait to feel you come undone on her tongue or on her strap or on her fingers again, over and over, until she was satisfied and you were a trembling mess with an empty head. That was the goal. Fuck those worries right out of you.

Inhaling deeply, she rubbed her hand over your back. “Did you fall asleep, cariño?” she asked softly. You mumbled something in response, and she laughed quietly. “Do you think you can walk now, baby?”

“Yes, Mommy,” you muttered under your breath, slowly shifting on her lap, sitting up, stretching your legs before you clambered off her, holding onto the armrest of the couch.

The skirt of your dress was wrinkled and bunched up, your panties still pushed aside, showing the soft glistening of your folds. She leaned in and fixed you up, rearranging your underwear and smoothing your dress down, then gave you a soft pat to your bum and stood up too. The used vibrator vanished into her purse.

“Now, what are you in the mood for next?” she whispered as she put her hands on your warm face, looking down.

You pursed your lips, thinking. “I don't know. Anything you want, Mommy.”

Your voice was so soft, almost sleepy, she couldn't help it, she had to lean in and brush her lips against yours. The kiss was short but sweet, and she had to lean away with a sigh as her own desire flared up inside her.

“Hmm, what do we do...” she mused, pulling you against her as she started walking towards the door of the small room. “Shopping again? Or... oh, ice cream, maybe? Or a milkshake? Though we should probably get a smoothie, something healthier, huh? I could show you my gym, or we could do some yoga? Have you done yoga before, baby?”

She kept talking as she led you through the velvety hallway again, nodding to one of Lady Noir's assistants who came forth with two large bags. The young woman followed them, through the backdoor and over the parking lot to the car, where her driver took them off her hands and stored them in the trunk.

And Isabella walked with you in her arm, leisurely making plans or suggestions, knowing you wouldn't be able to choose anything in your current state of mind. It didn't matter either way, she'd be content just walking with you, sitting next to you, spending time with you. It was relaxing to cradle you against her, to focus on you instead of her own busy mind.

She settled you next to her in the car, pulling the seat belt around you, before her hand slipped automatically between your legs, rubbing against your damp underwear. You turned your head to her, your cheeks flushed, but your eyes a little clearer now.

“Can we go home?” you whispered then, biting your lip.

Home. How fast you'd adjusted. She smiled at you, parting her lips to reply when you continued:

“Do you think Daddy is back yet?”

She froze, turning her head to hide the scowl on her face. Something about the way you asked that didn't sit right with her. This was her day with you after all. He had already brought you back late, cutting off precious hours she could have spent with you. And he was still on your mind, even though you had her fingers at your cunt.

“He's probably still working. He's a busy man, mi amor, don't get your hopes up.” She couldn't make her voice sound any less resentful, so she cleared her throat and looked at you, forcing herself to smile. “But I'm here for you, cariño, isn't that enough?”

Your eyes widened before you blinked quickly. “Oh, of course, Mommy, I didn't mean –” Sure you didn't, she thought bitterly, but smiled all the same, curling her hand around your mound.

“It's okay, baby, relax, no harm done,” she said, tilting her head as she watched your warm face, an idea swirling through her mind. “Oh, I know what we can do. Unless you really want to go home?”

You swallowed, shaking your head. “I... I want to be with you, no matter where,” you replied quietly.

Your words should have eased her doubts, but instead they were tainted and she couldn't take them seriously. And deep inside, her old ways flared up again, wanting to prove to you who she really was, that you wouldn't need anyone but her. She knew she was flawed in that way, and while you did bring out the good in her, her not-so-good side was still very much alive inside her.

And so she gave your cunt a gentle rub, smiled sweetly and leaned forward a bit to tell the driver:

“Take us to the Pet Cafe.”

Chapter 7 🔷️ Chapter 8 🔷️ Chapter 9

End notes: Hey, so, I made Mommy a Latina because I love Latinas and I want to throw in more Spanish pet names and “show off” the Spanish skills I honed after almost two years of Duolingo "classes"... (Needless to say: I mean no disrespect, I truly admire Spanish-speaking people and I always wanted to write a character like this. Also I am aware that some of these pet names differ from country and region, so let's just imagine Mommy having a Spanish mother and, I don't know, a Mexican father, or vice versa, or from another South American country. Again, please don't take offense, I am just a humble European admiring other cultures because my own sucks so much..., I'm bound to make mistakes, so I apologize in advance.)

On another note: I have no idea what Mommy and Daddy do for a living, what kind of company they have, what kind of business. Any kind of economics or economy talk makes my writer brain hurt, so I ask you to imagine whatever you want them to do. The important thing is: they are successful in whatever it is they're doing (and unlike a certain other man from another story of mine, all they do is very much legal). In the end, it doesn't matter too much, I hope. It's about their relationship with Pumpkin after all.

Thank you for reading! New chapter every Saturday!

Up next: You're going to the Pet Cafe, whatever that is...

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