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beomcoups · 23 days

Text

Legal Briefs

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: lawyer!Dokyeom x fem!reader 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: pwp, corporate au, 18+, non-idol au 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, riding, unprotected sex, cream pie, pet names, slight exhibitionism, oral (m. receiving), clit stimulation, squirting 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2.1k 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Dokyeom is stressed out over his case, and you use your brain in more ways than one to help him relax.

AN: Thank you to @miabebe for beta reading this for me at the last minute and @miniseokminnies being lovely. This is a repost, as this fic was originally written for another idol. I have decided to edit it and make it fit Dokyeom more. I hope you enjoy it <3. Also, tagging @onlyseokmins because that's your man, duh, lol. If you want to be tagged in future fics, sign up here🤎

Dokyeom is one of the most prominent corporate lawyers in your country, and you understand how hard he works daily to maintain that reputation. You were a lawyer when you met him, so you know the ins and outs of the legalities and how stressful it can be defending clients. Your first time seeing him was at a kickboxing gym you both frequented and then on the opposite end of the court, duking it out to protect your clients involved in a breach of contract. You may have won that battle, but in the end, Dokyeom won your heart, and you left the corporate life behind to be a housewife.

You walk into the swanky thirty-floor office building, and the security guard greets you as you approach the elevator. You are holding Dokyeom’s favorite lunch, pizza with cheese sticks, secured in a heated lunch box. You also brought fruit and juice, which he has been into lately. It’s a nice day outside, and what would be better than spending lunch with your husband?

You hum your way up to the 20th floor, greeted by the receptionists as the elevator doors open. The anticipation is building, and the excitement and butterflies in your stomach are brewing as you make your way to his office. You speak to everyone that makes eye contact with you. Everyone knows you as the boss’s wife, a hotshot lawyer, giving it all up for love.

“Hi,” his secretary greets you nervously as you approach her desk. “He seems a bit stressed out today. That case with the pharmaceutical company isn’t going well, and I’m pretty sure I heard papers flying around.”

This concerns you, as it is different from Dokyeom to lose his cool like that. You thank her and tap quietly on the office door, waiting to hear his voice before entering.

“Yes?” His smooth voice makes your heart jump.

You open the door, and your eyes widen at the scene before you. There are papers and folders all over the floor. Dokyeom is lying on the sofa, his suit jacket covering his face and his arms folded on his chest.

“I take it you’re having a bad day?” You ask gently, setting the lunch down on his desk.

His face lights up when he lays his eyes on you, jacket falling to the floor as he jumps up to greet you.

“I wasn’t expecting you here,” he replies before getting up and kissing your cheek. “I would’ve cleaned up.”

“And miss all this drama?” you tease him. “Come on, I’ll help you put everything back.”

You survey the papers and put the files back in their folders. You know where everything goes because you helped him set up his file system to make his life easier. You may not be practicing law right now, but it doesn’t mean you haven’t had to use your expertise a few times to help your husband win a few cases. You initially quit your previous firm because you felt burnt out and needed a break. Then, when you got married, you wanted to spend time being a new wife and try for a family. Dokyeom supported you in all of that. He never made you feel inferior or less than for stepping away from your career to be at home. Now, it’s been two years, and the children haven’t come yet, but maybe it’s just not time, as lately, you have been missing practicing law.

Dokyeom helps you and profusely apologizes. “You don’t need to apologize,” you wave him off. But this is not like you; what happened?”

His expression changes, his eyebrows furrowing with worry. He takes a deep breath before putting the last envelope into the bookshelf.

“I am missing a critical piece of evidence, a part of a contract that proves my client’s innocence,” Dokyeom begins, clutching onto the desk. “I know who to subpoena, but the judge is being a real asshole and won’t allow me to access those documents. So my client might lose, and then they’ll drop me, which means bye to our house.”

He removes his tie and takes a sip from his water bottle, his Adam's apple shifting as he gulps. Your very frustrated husband is also very hot, and it’s taking all your willpower to stay on task.

“Listen,” you redirect your focus to his problem. “There’s no guarantee that you will lose this case, and we definitely are not losing our house. Why don’t you eat the lunch I brought, and we will figure it out, okay?”

He nods and kisses you on the forehead, his way of saying thank you that still makes you feel warm inside. You watch him take out his lunch, and you start to eat yours, making small talk about your day as you dig through the cheese sticks.

“When did you order this, babe?” Dokyeom asks, mouth stuffed with pepperoni and cheese. “You were cleaning up when I left for work.”

“I ordered it right before I came up here,” you say proudly, feeding him some of your pizza. “I got tired of eating lunch alone and wanted to see you. Looks like you needed me too.”

He gives you a kind smile that soothes your soul like a warm hug. You talk more about the case as you clear out your food containers. Dokyeom mentions that he has been trying to get the evidence to no avail for the past week. Watching him stressing himself out bothers you, as you know how hard he has worked on this case, and you want to see him succeed. His eyes were glued to the papers in front of him, skimming over everything to find a possible loophole. You can’t help but take in how handsome he looks, focused on his work, his jaw clenching as his frustration mounts.

So, you came up with an idea.

“Hey, babe,” you get his attention, removing your cardigan. “I’m going to help you relax, okay?”

He nods, his shoulders still tense up from reading over the paperwork. You move behind him, relaxing your hands on his shoulders before you massage them, making him feel more at ease. You start unbuttoning his shirt, reaching down to rub his chest while leaving kisses on his neck.

“Well, this is one way to do it,” Dokyeom hums, setting down his pen. He moves his head and kisses you deeply, his hands gracing your face softly, pulling you deeper into his rapture of love. You make a move to sit on his lap, taking off your tank top and exposing your favorite bra that pushes up your breasts just right.

“Was this always the plan?” He smirks, leaving kisses down your neck. His lips suck on your sweet-tasting skin, his tongue trailing down to the valley of your breasts.

“And if it was?” You move in front of him, sitting on his lap, and your skirt hikes over your hips. “What are you going to do about it?”

He chuckles and kisses you more, removing your bra and throwing it across the office. You lift and reach down, undoing his pants and lowering his briefs, feeling the growing bulge hardening along your slit. “No panties? Aw, baby…”

“What?” You smiled coyly. “Do you want me to leave? I can just get up—”

“W-what? No, no, it’s not that,” his cheeks turn pink in a panic. “I hate to rush, but I have to be in a meeting in twenty minutes,” Dokyeom’s breathing hitches as his hand touches his manhood, stroking his thick girth to your naked breasts and exposed ass. You lower yourself until you are on your knees, moving his hand away as you take over. You kiss his dick just the way he likes it, his legs tensing up as you take him in your mouth. His thickness takes over your mouth as you suck him good, your free hand playing with your clit as you watch him cock his head back and curse softly.

“Baby, you are so good at this,” he murmurs. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

He gently fucks your face, pacing himself so he doesn’t blow his entire load down your throat. Your eyes lock with his as you take him in deeper, drops of saliva spilling out of the corner of your mouth. Dokyeom is ashamed to admit it, but he likes it when you look like this: the makeup on your sweet face ruined with tears because you sucked him off so well. You would never tell him this, but you love how he tastes. The way his smooth cock hits the back of your throat makes you dripping wet, and if you keep up any longer, you will cum on this floor.

“H-honey,” he sputters. “I have 15 minutes. Get on top.”

You slowly take him out of your mouth with a pop, lifting yourself and positioning yourself to sink into him. You both groan in unison when you are entirely on his lap, your nails digging into the armrest of his chair.

“This won’t take long, I promise,” you mutter, giving yourself a few seconds to get used to his size before slowly grinding on him and enjoying the feeling of him being inside of you. His body tenses at your movements and his fingers massage your clit softly. You unexpectedly let out a loud moan, and he covers your mouth with his hand.

“I know this feels good, bouncing on my hard dick, but you are going to have to keep it down, princess,” he grits.

Dokyeom knows what that does to you, calling you princess as he fucks you into an earth-shattering orgasm. You’re a squirter, and he knows that, so it was unsurprising that your lower halves were covered with your essence. Your eyes never leave each other, whispering I love you and trading meaningful kisses. Dokyeom’s head rolls back, whispering songs of praise as you continue to ride him on his office chair.

“Baby, I’m close,” he whines, his hands gripping your hips. You grind on him hard, finding your clit and releasing again shortly after. Dokyeom follows right behind you, spilling deep inside of you as his head buries deep into your neck. As he slows down, he kisses you lovingly, making sure your cunt is full of his cum before pulling out. You're still trying to catch your breath when you climb off of him to clean yourself up.

“Mr Lee?” His secretary’s voice booms through the speaker, startling you both. “Your meeting starts in five minutes.”

“O-okay.”

You can see the time on his laptop, and the 5-minute reminder before the meeting stops flashing wildly on his screen. You find your bra and hurriedly put it on, with Dokyeom already dressed and holding your tank top and cardigan.

“What?” You catch him staring at you curiously.

“You are so bad.” “Well, isn’t that why you fell in love with me? Aside from me beating your ass in court, of course.”

You finish getting dressed, helping him put his tie back on, and kissing him goodbye before heading out the door. You catch a photo you missed picking up earlier, and something catches your eye that makes you stop dead in your tracks.

“Babe.” You pick up the photograph and inspect it thoroughly. “What’s the name of the judge?”

“Judge Choi,” he responds, preparing himself for his meeting. “Why?”

“This wouldn’t happen to be the judge in the 17th court, would it?

You pull out your phone and look him up, confirming your suspicions.

“Okay, I know that look,” Dokyeom comments, a puzzled look on his face. “What’s up?”

“This judge used to give me shit when I was practicing, but I always found a way to get around him,” you start. “There was talk about him being a crooked judge and being paid off by companies, but I could never confirm it until now. Look at the picture.”

You show him the photograph of the rival company at an event, pointing at the missing piece of the puzzle: the judge and the company’s CEO, arm in arm, taking a picture. “That’s why the judge is shutting you down, babe,” you confirm. “He has ties to the other guys. Judge Choi should have recused himself a long time ago.”

Dokyeom looks at you, amazed that his wife could figure out why he had this roadblock. “God, what would I do without you?”

“You’d still be losing to me in court.” You kiss him goodbye again, letting him prepare to attend his meeting. You close the door, and his secretary smiles at you and motions for you to come closer to her.

“You should be more careful in there, dear,” she advises. “The whole office heard you.”

729 notes · View notes

missqhughes · 26 days

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CAN HE GET YOU LIKE THIS? | Q. HUGHES43

-> quinn hughes x jacksgf!reader

-> contains: cheating, smut with plot , SLIGHT angst, and other sexual themes, oc’s created for tha plot, intended lowercase, use of y/n

-> IN WHICH: jack almost cant seem to control himself around another woman at the lake house; and to make it worse, in front of his girlfriend. when she cries her frustrations to her boyfriends older brother, he seems to have the perfect solution to her problems.

-> my first hockey fic! i spent so much time on it, and i’m pretty proud tbh. also, i’m so excited to post on this page, and as i always say on my other blog, hope you love it as much as i do!

*fic is not proofread

18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT

y/n was never the jealous type.

she never needed anyone’s approval.

but god, what jack was doing was pissing her off.

for the first time, luke had brought his girlfriend april, to the lake house for the summer, and this week, y/n had the unpleasant company of aprils friend stampeding around the house for the week.

about 100% of the time, she could handle girls throwing themselves at jack at this point. she was used to it; jack was always a good boyfriend to her, and could always control himself with his endless female attention.

until today.

the july sun delivered a scorching heat down on the group as they conversed somewhere on the middle of the lake in the hughes family boat.

the typical casual conversation that y/n, jack, and his brothers had on their boat days were greatly interrupted by the ear piercing voices of april’s friends.

“jack, wanna let me drive the boat?”

“jack, the sun is too bright! can i please wear your hat?”

jack let out low chuckles at the flattery delivered to him, and y/n was doing her usual job at ignoring them.

with her dark tinted sunglasses on and her head resting on the back seat of the boat, she saw her boyfriend place his white baseball cap on one of april’s god forsaken friend.

her eyebrows furrowed; jack never fed into anything like this. the pang of anxiety lowly rested in the pit of her stomach, but she chose to ignore it.

he knew better.

“jacky, how does it look on me?”

through her dark lenses, she witnessed the ratty girl in front of her spin in front of jack, pulling the sides of her bikini up while doing so.

he made no attempt to hide his gaze on the girl in front of him, or the comment that slipped from his lips afterwards;

“looks good,” he said lowly, probably thinking that his girlfriend mere feet away from him was fast asleep from the summer heat, unaware to his tease.

the anxiety in y/n’s stomach began to surface more, a jealousy and anger she hadn’t felt in a situation like this before arising. she thought whatever of it, that she was being crazy, that she could shove this feeling down.

y/n kept her gaze straight forward, blocking out any of the chatter coming from anyone in her vicinity; her eyes locked on luke’s slow speed on the boat, conversing casually with april, unaware of the drama brewing behind them.

god, can he not drive any faster? she thought to herself, the annoyance within growing deeper and deeper.

the boat rocked along with the motion of the water beneath it, but y/n did her best to sit completely still, feeling that if she moved, the her negative emotions would swirl harder.

after a grueling 4 minute ride back to the dock, luke had secured the boat,

“everyone’s good to get off now,” he told the group, grabbing april’s hand and towel, assisting her onto the dock.

the short haired girl, the one throwing herself all over jack, the one who’s name y/n didn’t even bother to remember in their introductions, was just about to take it too far.

she stood up first, jack and y/n following behind her.

the ratty girl “dropped” her towel, allowing the perfect opportunity to bend down in front of jack,

“woops! my bad,” her voice made an embarrassing attempt to be seductive to jack, turning her head to eye him up and down.

jack let out a deep inhale, just enough to set y/n off further on her silent rage.

“all good, let me help you out.”

the girl giggled as she took jacks hand, letting it linger on his skin longer than necessary.

he paid no mind to his girlfriend behind him.

the insatiable urge to strangle the two idiots in front of y/n was barely present on her face, as she decided to take back control of the situation, and remind both of them who his significant other was.

“babe, i’m tired, do you want to come up and take a nap?”

his conversation with the short haired girl was cut with y/n’s words, he looked back at the two, contemplation in his mind, before smiling at y/n.

see? nothing to worry about-

“i uh, i think i’m gonna stay down here for a bit, don’t want to go inside yet, it’s just a really nice day y’know?”

her ears began to ring with his words, cheeks growing red as she looked over at luke and april, who shifted uncomfortably, now aware of the drama upon the dock.

“uh, yeah… yeah that’s fine.”

“i’ll be up soon, promise,” jack said as he sat down with april, luke, and her stupid friend.

y/n ignored his words, turning on her heel to walk up to the house, pace growing as soon as she was out of sight from the dock.

now that she was alone, all the feelings the thought she was suppressing were now at the forefront of her body and mind. she ran her hands through her hair, almost ready to rip it out from frustration.

y/n stormed through the house, and as she passed the living room, she was met with quinn; who was quietly reading a book with his feet kicked up on the ottoman.

before he lifted his head, his eyes went up first, gaze met with y/n’s indignant expression,

“woah, you okay, something happen on the one boat day i miss?” he said light heartedly,

“quinn, not now,”

y/n snapped at him, before slamming her bedroom door, the action echoing through the otherwise quiet house.

——————————————————————————

dinner wasn’t any better.

y/n didn’t realize how much time had gone by as she was staring at the ceiling, recounting the events of the day. jack did not keep his promise about “coming up soon” which wasn’t to the shock of y/n, considering his behavior today. he did stop in her designated room, to give her a kiss on the forehead, and to tell that dinner was ready.

and that was it.

now, she was sitting next to jack at the table, his happy chatter with his brothers, april, and company sounding like mumbles in her ears. she felt a gaze on her, hoping it was jack, but when y/n turned her head softly to confirm, he was still smiling at his continued conversation.

like nothing was wrong.

there was only one other person who wasn’t talking, and her eyesight landed right on his.

quinn.

she shifted in her seat, quickly averting their eye contact, and picked at her quarter eaten meal with her fork.

“excuse me everyone, i’m gonna go lay down,”

jack looked at y/n, giving her a half smile and no thought to her abrupt departure, before returning to his seemingly endless conversation.

y/n began to pick her plate up to take it to the sink, when quinn’s voice spoke up,

“i’ll take care of it,” the tips of his fingers pushed down lightly on the edge of her plate.

“you sure? it’s fine i don’t-”

“just go lay down.”

y/n blinked at him a few times before nodding her head, setting her plate down and shuffling to her room.

she closed the door softly this time, letting out a shaky breath as she sat on the edge of the plush bed. her head was beginning to throb, not sure if it was from lack of food or just from the complete and total anxiety jack was giving her.

——————————————————————————

y/n scrolled mindlessly on her phone, again losing the track of time with the state she was in.

1:19am.

the dryness in her throat was becoming more present as she came down from her brain fog, deciding to clear herself with a glass of water.

y/n slipped into the kitchen, only the warm dim glow from the microwave light allowing her to see. the glass cups lightly clinked together as she pulled one out, then setting it down to fill up.

the refrigerator hummed softly, barely breaking the silence through the house. then, a raspy voice spoke behind her,

“what’re you doing up?”

y/n whipped her head around, almost dropping and shattering the glass of water in her hand,

“jesus christ quinn, you scared the shit out of me!”

she set down the glass to put a hand to her chest, an attempt to slow down the spike in her heart rate.

quinn let out a small, quiet laugh, “sorry, i thought you heard me.”

“no,” she let out a huff, “i didn’t,” y/n smiled back at him gently as the beating in her chest settled.

“so, what’s wrong?”

quinn was quick to change the conversation to put her on the spot, y/n’s lips parting as she thought of her next words.

“nothing, i don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“yes you do.”

y/n scoffed, “you really have a habit of interrupting me don’t you?”

“stop avoiding the question. what’s wrong? talk to me, y/n.”

the two stared at one another, having an unspoken battle with each other,

y/n broke first.

she swallowed, knowing the words about to spill out of her mouth were going to come shaky and scattered; she didn’t want quinn, or anyone for that matter, to know the state her mind was at. y/n hopped up to sit on the kitchen counter, retelling the day to quinn.

“it was… it was jack. today. he was just letting april’s stupid fucking friend flirt with him! and-”

“alana?”

she shot him a deep scowl, “don’t interrupt me to tell me what her stupid name is!”

quinn raised his hands in defeat, “sorry, sorry, keep going,”

“he let her wear his hat, she bent over in front of him and he said nothing, and as you could tell from earlier today, he didn’t even come up to the house with me when i asked…”

her words trailed off shakily, y/n felt hot, wet tears flow down her cheeks, slightly blurring her vision, she looked down, unable to meet quinn’s gaze she felt burning into her face.

“y/n… i’m sorry. he’s a shithead for that,”

he stepped closer to her, lessening the distance between them,

“y/n.”

she hummed in response, sniffles coming from her, still refusing to look up at him,

“y/n look at me.”

y/n knew how persistent quinn was, and he definitely was not going to let her get away with not looking at him. though it felt like lifting a ton of bricks, her glossy eyes looked up to meet his.

quinn’s eyes flickered all over her face, reading her sorrow expression. he brought his hand up to meet her face, gently using his thumb to brush away any fallen tears on her tinted cheeks.

“you know, i really hate it when you cry,” he cooed softly, still wiping away the spilling tears, paying more attention to her in these mere minutes than jack had been all day.

“i’m so mad at myself, i should’ve said something, i let it all happen in front of me,” y/n said, her quiet frustrations let out only for quinn’s ears to hear.

“hey, hey, no. you shouldn’t have even been put in that position, don’t blame yourself, okay?” he placed his hands on either sides of the counter, locking her in. his voice being stern but still soft, a tough love kind of talk.

y/n’s heart beated faster as she became hyper aware of how close their bodies were, feeling the warmth radiating off of him.

she wanted to knock herself in the head for feeling this way, but her heightened distaste for jack in the moment, quinn’s messy hair combined with his beard and tired eyes made him so sinfully appealing.

“you’re right, i shouldn’t have,”

y/n felt almost awkward in this moment, especially it being her boyfriends older brother. there was no way for her to move without being even closer to him.

“god, y/n… cant believe that… if i had you… i’d never let that happen,”

quinn’s tired eyes turned lustful by the second, going up and down y/n’s body before flickering between her own eyes and lips.

“quinn,” she let out with a breath, “you cant say things like that, you know you can’t,”

y/n couldn’t help herself from matching quinn’s motion, unable to tear away from looking at his full lips.

“after the shit he pulled today, i think i’m safe to do whatever the hell i want,”

the gentle demeanor in his voice was replaced with seduction, bringing his face closer to hers, close enough for their breaths to mingle.

“say the words y/n, i wont do anything you don’t want me to do. say the words and i’ll stop.”

she was between a rock and a hard place. it’s not like jack had outright cheated in front of her, and she would feel horrible doing something like that to him. however, his actions were inexcusable, and he saw not an inch of an issue with what he was doing. and at the exact same time, quinn was ready to be all over her. hell, he’s practically admitting to wanting his little brother’s girlfriend. in this moment, he could give her anything.

fuck it.

this is what he gets, she thought to herself. it’s not like he would find out anyway. no one would.

“i want you quinn.”

the words rolled off her tongue faster than her mind let her think about the consequences, and in no time, quinn captured y/n’s lips in his, securing his hands on to her waist.

the two kissed sloppily in the kitchen, out in the open, with too much opportunity to get caught. neither of them cared.

y/n’s hands found a home in his hair, quinn emitting a low groan as she gently tugged at his waves.

she felt a heat growing between her legs, and an attempt to close them for relief was blocked by quinn pushing them back open with his hips.

y/n gasped, allowing quinn’s tongue entry, and as he explored her mouth with his, she felt him growing harder against her core, making the wetness in her shorts more difficult to ignore.

quinn panted heavily as he pulled away, still gripping at her waist, fingers hugging the bottom hem of her shirt,

“can i take this off?”

she buzzed at his words, nodding vigorously. with her consent, he raised the shirt above her body, y/n lifting her arms in assistance.

quinn wasted no time to kiss down her neck to her now exposed upper chest, sitting perfectly pretty in her bra. he sucked and nipped at the bare skin, earning quiet moans from her soft lips.

“mm—fuck quinn,” y/n threw her head back in pleasure, giving more room for quinn to litter her chest with marks. she didn’t even care if they were going to bruise tomorrow or who was going to saw. everyone else was on the back burner of her mind.

her praise only made him rougher, sucking harder into her skin, feeling himself getting more and more rowdy by the second.

his lips went up to claim hers again, tapping her thigh as a signal to wrap her legs around his waist. she listened, hooking herself around him. quinn lifted her up effortlessly, their kiss not being broken as he peeked his eyes open in a tenth of a second to see their way to his room.

with one hand tucked under y/n’s ass, he turned the knob to his bedroom door, stepping into the room before closing the door behind him with a light kick.

quinn’s legs met the edge of the bed, and he threw her down before making himself pry his lips from her’s, plump and slick from his.

“you’re still okay with his?” he asked, his thumb drawing circles on her hips.

“more than okay, please quinn. i need more.”

he nodded, taking a step back to take all of her in with his eyes.

she looked at him confused for a moment, before he talked,

“strip.”

she swallowed heavily, ready to obey his words. y/n wiggled out of her shorts, leaving her skin only covered by a black bra and panties.

“i said strip. all the way.”

her heart was about to come out of her chest, all of it was beginning to feel real, and that she was about to be naked and on display for jack’s brother.

only hearing the beating in her chest, quinn watched as y/n unhooked her bra first, tits bouncing with the action, and he thought he could cum in his pants right then and there.

y/n sat down on the bed, staring deeply into quinn’s eyes, slipping her black panties down her half parted legs, pussy wet and glistening from the moonlight shining through the window.

“fuck,” he whispered, unable to control his hand from falling to his crotch, beginning to palm himself through his shorts.

with a single hand, quinn took his shirt off, dipping his head down to kiss her naked thighs. y/n shuddered at his action, his kisses being everywhere except where she desperately needed them to be.

he hovered just above her core, “can i?”

“quinn please stop fucking asking and just do it,” y/n begged, squirming under him, desperate for his touch.

he licked a long stripe down her wet folds, y/n unable to control the guttural moan that escaped from her lips. her back arched in pleasure at the feeling of quinn’s lips sucking on her puffy clit, aching for attention.

he couldn’t stop; he was devouring her like it was his death row and she was his last meal, already addicted to the taste of her pussy on his tongue.

quinn pushed her hips down, sticking his tongue in her and his nose bumping against her clit with each motion. y/n felt knots twisting and forming in her stomach, a strong release forming, one that jack had never even came close to making her feel.

“mmph, shit quinn— gonna fucking cum, oh— my fuck,”

profanities spilled out of y/n’s mouth, but her pleasure was cut short as his dripping lips pulled away from her aching core, craving his touch.

she whined at the loss of contact, only to be met with quinn peeling off his shorts and underwear, his throbbing dick aching with desire from his tip.

“when i make you cum, i want it to be on my dick, pretty girl.”

y/n felt like she could’ve exploded right then and there, but she bit her lip, moving closer to the edge of the bed, giving quinn better access to line up with her.

he ran his dick between her wet folds a few times before inserting himself in her, the two let out gracious moans at the mutual pleasure.

quinn started slow, hips rolling back and forth, before quickening his pace to a pornographic speed.

his lips hooked onto y/n’s once again, sloppy and wet, both groaning into each others mouths with delight. in the kiss he captured both her wrists, pinning them above her head.

quinn broke the kiss to look at her with his brows furrowed, concentrated on fucking y/n senseless. her bottom lip was between her teeth, tits bouncing with the speed of his thrusts.

“fuck y/n, you feel so good on my dick, can he ever get you like this? a moaning fucked out mess? hm?”

his words barely registered in her ears, body buzzing as his dick continued to destroy her pussy.

“no, no, mm— you fuck me so much better quinn,” y/n did her best not to scream it, still aware that the other people in the house had the potential to hear them.

“gonna— cum— y/n— shit,” quinn huffed out between thrusts. she also felt the now familiar knots forming in her stomach, her release about to come.

his movements became sloppy as his release coated her walls, and at the same time, she painted his dick with her own.

they felt euphoric, quinn pulled out of her slowly, groaning as his dick came out of her.

y/n laid out on the bed panting with closed eyes, hearing the light flicker on from quinn’s connected bathroom.

she felt a wet towel meet her sensitive core, hissing at the feeling.

“sorry, just wanna clean you up first,”

y/n looked at quinn while he cleaned her with concentration, his body glistening with sweat and his messy hair slightly sticking to his forehead.

“thank you, quinn,”

y/n was breathless watching quinn go back into the bathroom, her chest still rapidly rising and falling. she felt herself grow more tired with each passing minute.

quinn came back from the bathroom with a different pair of underwear on, holding out a pair of his boxers to put on. y/n gladly accepted, slipping them up her body. she grabbed her bra from the floor, hooking it back on.

after she was partly dressed, he delivered her a sweet, soft kiss to her lips. different than any kind of kiss they had so far, this one was deep and loving; his hands gently cupping her face.

“stay with me,”

quinn’s proposition took her by surprise, thinking he was going to send her back to her room after all this, but no.

“quinn, i really shouldn’t, it’s not a good ide-”

“you and jack can figure your shit out later. as of right now, you’re mine.”

he was right and she knew it. he claimed her, and there was definitely going to be some kind of consequence for this. either way y/n and jack were going to have to figure their shit out, but to her, that was an issue for the morning.

“okay, i’ll stay.”

quinn smiled at her, planting a kiss on her forehead. he peeled away at his thick blue comforter, leaving space for the both of them to crawl inside. y/n felt herself more comfortable falling asleep with quinn than she did with jack, whatever that meant. but she didn’t care. his body was tangled with hers, falling asleep to the soft beat of his heart.

pt. 2

——————————————————————————

xoxo, kaia

579 notes · View notes

tiredmamaissy · 9 months

Text

Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Special Episode IV

Seed of Life

This is @zestys-stuff 's OC. All credits to this character goes to this beautiful, talented artist. Thank you again for allowing me to explore and create with him!

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, fluff, angst, early pregnancy smut (will be forewarned before it happens), daddy daughter drama, Ralak being little rough because reader won’t stop teasing him, Ralak literally has blue balls, ball play, blowjob, brief thigh fucking, likely incorrect na’vi, teacher/student dynamics/roleplay, p in v, quickie, squirting, masturbation, dirty talk, sexual tension, age gap

Disclaimer: This chapter entails pregnancy and sexual intimacy during early pregnancy. I include a warning directly before the smut happens in the case that you want to indulge in this chapter but aren’t necessarily up for the pregnancy smut.

Word Count: 10k sorry

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: thank you guys for always being so patient with me. i love yall too the moon and back <3 happy holidays and a happy new year! also, I’ve realised that I unintentionally decided that Kiri is not involved in this series (i dunno honestly, it’s just occuring to me that I’ve never really mentioned her before and it feels difficult to incorporate her at this point i suppose). It seems like we (reader) have taken her place in this au in regards to being jakes adopted ‘babygirl’ (nothing else though—no superpowers or anything loool).

Synopsis: After telling Ralak that he's going to be a father, the reality dawns on you that you need to break the news to your own father.

<- Previous -> Next

This pregnancy shouldn’t be much of a surprise to you, honestly. How could you not be? After such a breeding it would be a miracle if you weren’t pregnant. Yet the news wasn’t quite sinking in, even when Tsireya looked at you with wide eyes and spelled it out for you. But now that you’re walking towards the tsahìk, you’re faced with reality and it begins to sink in as you count each step you take.

Forty-two…

The words that rolled off the tarsem’s tongue echo in your skull.

Forty-three…

Etching themselves into the bone, leaving you with no space to deny the truth.

Forty-four…

“You are with child.”

The ringing in your ears stops as your vision refocuses on the stone cold expression of the Tsahìk. Her voice is unfaltering and clear as it delivers the news to your ears a second time. Bowing to the taller woman, you sweep three fingers away from your forehead and turn your heel to walk away. But before you can take two steps she announces something that makes your ears stand tall.

“A boy.”

Her two harshly spoken words strike through your chest, a sinking feeling now brewing in the pit of your stomach. You stop dead in your tracks and lift your head that was once tilted down to your feet. Things become even more real, having you force down a wad of your spit to keep your vision from splitting again. You’re barely able to use your voice—your mouth partially open and your tongue rolling from the churn of your tummy.

“Thank you, Ronal.” You manage to squeak a decibel or two over a whisper, dropping your head again to lock your stare to your feet before fleeing the now-crowding scene. You overhear the people murmuring the news as you scurry away to your marui pod.

‘The forest girl expects the firstborn of the village’s best warrior’;

‘She won’t make it out alive!’;

‘Did you hear? She will birth the first of a new kind. A kind with demon blood’.

If your legs could go any quicker, they would.

A child grows in your womb now. A child for the man you love—Ralak. The man who deserves it most. You’re scared and excited all at once. Proud to bear a son for such a notable and fearsome man. But afraid of how your family will take to the news.

This was your first month of being a mated pair, and you’ve already succumbed to your most primordial instinct to mate. And with what everyone is already whispering, you’re scared of much more than that. Is what they say true? Is this a risky thing? Will he be teased for being different? Will he be rejected from the clan?

Does Ralak… even want this?

You both hadn’t even sat down and spoken about the possible consequences of such a cosmic event—your synced cycles. What if he hadn’t meant all the things he said? Or if he really just couldn’t prevent the things that he did during his rut? How would he react if that were the case?

Your mind is running at a hundred clicks an hour and your nerves are wringing your stomach that it takes the hot sand spilling through the cracks of your toes to make you realise that you’re already home.

And there he is, in all his glory.

Doing nothing other than sharpening his damn spear. Sitting on his knees, leaned back with his flexed abs and gathered brows, concentrating on his task—blissfully unaware of the gossip spreading throughout the clan. The sight brings serenity to the white noise in your head, leaving nothing but the crash of the waves and the splash of the ilus off in the distance. I

Ralak’s ears twitch as he senses your presence, but he remains focused on the stroke of his whetstone against the blade. He can feel your apprehension from where he sits, and he can already tell what you’re here for. Yet he chooses to keep his appearance no less than stoic, but not enough to be intimidating.

“Tanhì.” He hums low enough that you strain to hear him.

“I need to speak with you.” You utter, wetting your dry lips with a quick swipe of your tongue. You stand there fidgeting with your fingers as you await a reply from your husband. It’s almost mortifying how silent this man can actually be. You see the slight tilt of his head and his ear perk up to listen closely. Taking this as your cue to speak, you try to find the words to say.

How do I say this?

Ralak is a simple man, perhaps it’s better to give it to him straight. An easy, ‘I carry your unborn son’, would do, right? You begin to gnaw on the dry skin on your bottom lip as you think. But his silence is really getting to you today. How can he sit there so… unbothered? Not even a glance thrown your way or an eyelash batted. Maybe you should just spit it out — ‘you got me pregnant’.

“Hm?” He lets out a muffled grunt, swiping the whetstone against the spearhead. It sounds innocent. Like he’s just immersed in a task and couldn’t quite bring himself to completely stop.

“We no longer need to prepare for my heat.” You blurt out, not even knowing where the words came from. You witness his spine straighten and him quickly stilling his movements.

Little did you know his heart gallops at the speed of a direhorse, thumping wildly between his ribs as he prepares himself to finally hear you utter the words. Oh, how he had been waiting for your sweet voice to sing the news. But he realises that you seem to need an extra push to say them.

“And why is that?” Ralak husks, still unmoving.

You wait for him to turn around. To look your way. Something.

But… nothing.

“I’m pregnant.”

Ralaks heart skips a beat and his breath catches in his throat. A grin spreads from ear to ear, so strong and wide that if you were really paying attention you would have caught the way his ears stand at full height.

But you were too busy fighting the bubble of the blood in your thumping heart, trying to keep your frustration to a minimum. You had expected more. For him to turn around, at the very least. All you could hear was the da-dump and the silence between you two. Until you couldn’t take it anymore.

Perhaps it’s all the hushed chatter from earlier or maybe it’s just the new surge of hormones and out-of-whack pheromones but you can’t help the burn of your eyes as they fill with tears.

“So w-what? Not even a glance my way? You knock me up and have nothing to s-say for it?” You choke back your heated tears of frustration, Ralak now huffing a vehement sigh. “You’re not even surprised, or—” Your blubbering is cut short by your husband's quick movement.

Ralak instantaneously brings himself to his feet and storms over to you, towering over your petite frame. Now he’s peering down at you, dark, smouldering eyes holding the most intimidating gaze with you as he closes the distance between your bodies. He’s still damp from seeing to the ilus this morning that when your chest touches his cold, bare stomach, it hardens your nipples into stiff peaks.

“Surprised?” He rasps, his large hand flying to your lower stomach, gently pressing into it. Heaving shoulders slowing as he steadies his breathing, Ralak lowers his head to brush his lips against the shell of your ear—

“Do you not think I had every intention of putting this baby inside of you?”

Hearing this spoken in such an assertive tone sends shivers up your spine—Ralak knows exactly how to handle you and your… sensitivity. He always has. Your tail sways uncontrollably behind you, earning a well concealed smirk from the giant before you. It’s always been one of his favourite parts of you, but now—oh, now he has a new favourite part of you.

Your soon-to-be swelling belly.

“I have known.” He admits through a whisper, smoothing his entire palm over your budding womb, planting a quick kiss on your temple. “Your scent… it has changed, tanhì.”

“What?” You whisper, almost pulling away from his tender touches to look at him. “And you didn’t say anything?”

“I wanted to hear you say it. I have been waiting… to hear you say it.” He’s the one to pull away this time, looking you deeply in the eyes. His free hand raises, using his thumb to wipe away a tear seeping from the corner of your eye. “Please. Do not cry.”

You don’t even know what to say. Yet again, Ralak leaves you speechless—with trembling lips and a swelling throat.

“And you are actually eating the payoang niktsyey [fish wraps] I cook.”

“What?” You snort, letting loose a sudden, nasally giggle. You drop your smile and try to fix a serious expression on your face. “What do you mean? I always eat your payoang niktsyey [fish wraps]”

Ralak laughs, his three fingers tucking hair behind your ear, “I see you throw them to the ilus, tanhì. I am no fool.”

You laugh again, snotty-nosed and teary-eyed, sniffling when the uncontrollable giggling fit ends. “It seems that our son enjoys your cooking, ‘lak.” You bubbler with a wobbly smile, blinking harshly to clear your vision.

Ralaks eyes bulge as they frantically search yours—a beaming smile spreading across his lips, his pointed teeth on full display. “Son?” He exhales softly, his left brow bone jumping ever so slightly.

All you can do is nod, letting your wobbly smile morph into a grin. The tears come back like they never left, twice as much and even hotter than before. You swear you see Ralaks eyes gloss over too, glistering in the sunlight.

Ralak sinks to his knees, coming face to face with your soft tummy.

“My prrnen [baby]. My ‘evengan [son; boy child]. It is your sempu [daddy].” He whispers, heated lips slightly pressed against your silken skin. Chin tucked to your chest, you watch in awe, straining to listen to his hushed whispers. “I have wanted you for so long.”

Hearing that—oh, how hearing that makes you feel. You feel warm inside, your heart so full all your earlier fears melt away. Ralak looks up at you, azure blue eyes filled with nothing but love and adoration—gratitude and admiration.

“My sweet tanhì. You have made me the man I have always wanted to be.” He croons at you, planting a long, soft kiss on your stomach—eyes still locked with yours. “And I thank you for that. Nìt’iluke [forever; never-endingly]”

And just like that, the butterflies you felt when you first laid eyes on this man come rushing in, flapping their wings at full force.

“I am your mate.” You sputter out a little, tiny sob. “It’s what I-I am supposed to do.”

Ralak stands up, holding eye contact with you the entire way.

“You owe me nothing. It is an honour that you carry my unborn, y/n.” His hand leaves your stomach to grasp your hand, intertwining his thickset fingers with yours. “You will be a nawm [great] mother.”

“And you will be the best father.” You choke back your sobs, struggling to get your words out. A comfortable silence passes, where you both immerse yourselves into one another’s touch. Until Ralak witnesses your expression morph into something of worry.

“What is it?” He asks in a hushed voice, keeping his tone calm and cool.

“Speaking of… fathers.” The column of your throat undulates when you gulp hard, “How will I tell mine?”

Ralak swallows, too. The thought had crossed his mind a few times over the past week. He saw the answer as simple – tell him. Ralak holds a lot of respect for your father, looking up at him as a superior given his status and skill as a warrior. And although he’s slightly intimidated by your father, Ralak sees this respect as mutual—therefore, it should be returned. Surely, this will go smoothly if you both remain polite.

Right?

“We tell him. Together.” Ralak grasps your hand once more, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze, his heavy accent shining through now that he’s high on emotions, “I keep you safe. Both of you.”

——

Both you and Ralak make your way down the shore towards the webbing of overlapping mangrove roots. Though you insisted on breaking the news to your family by yourself, he was adamant that he accompanies you. You couldn’t bear the thought of your father lashing out on Ralak, especially in front of the others. You tried to explain that to him, but he simply shook his head and tightened the clasp of his saya (knife sheath) on his hip.

You make the trek by foot, wanting a little more time to think about what you were going to say, and he ensured to stay right behind you. Quite literally—looming behind you like some sort of bodyguard. Every na’vi you pass are quick to avert their gaze elsewhere when they see the giant you have as a shadow. They tried not to look to begin with, but it was a rare sight to see you two so close together among the clan.

Their hushed whispers are kept to an absolute minimum but Ralak hears them nonetheless. It doesn’t bother him. Not anymore, at least. It used to bother him before he had met you—hearing the chatter of the gossip about his voluntary six year celibacy despite being the chief’s right hand man. And now that the murmurs entail nothing but his relationship with you, he could care less.

But then he hears the indistinct mumble about the babe budding in your womb. It’s something along the lines of ‘it being some demon hybrid’. The comment alone has Ralak screeching to a halt, his head snapping in the direction of a stocky, young warrior in training. One that Tonowari had relentlessly urged Ralak to teach until he begrudgingly gave him a couple combat lessons.

Ralak’s eyes narrow and sharpen, snapping down to shoot a threatening leer down at him. That's all it took for the stumpy na’vi to drop his head in shame and scurry away with his younger companions.

Sensing that Ralak is no longer on your tail, you turn around, half-expecting him to be five steps behind. Instead, he’s right where you left him, with a reassuring smile and an extended hand gesturing you to ‘continue’. You return a light hearted smile and spin around, taking another step towards your family marui.

——

“To what do we owe the visit?” Neteyam smiles as he greets you at the marui door, arms splayed out for a hug. You smile and slump into your brother, allowing him to envelope you in a warm embrace. “We haven’t seen you in what feels like weeks, sis.”

“Because we haven’t.” Lo’ak adds, lurking behind his bigger brother, arms crossed over his chest with a grin on his face.

“Hey Lo’.” You say in a low voice, smiling at him as you let go of your big brother. Ralak silently stands at the marui door, head awkwardly tilted in an attempt to fit himself in such a tight space.

“Hey, sissy.” Lo’ak throws an arm around your neck, patting your shoulder a few times as he walks you further inside and away from Ralak. “What’s up with the shadow?” He doesn’t even try to quieten his voice as he nudges his chin in your husband's direction.

You force a little laugh, unwrapping his arm from around your neck so you can inch away back to your ‘shadow’. You back up until you bump into his solid build, making a muffled thump when you collide. He steadies you by the shoulders, lidded eyes flicking down to check that you’re okay. He can sense your nervousness.

“I–we… have something to tell you guys.” You begin, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Where’s everyone else?”

Lo’ak’s eyes squint, brows furrowing as the gears in his brain grind twice as fast to figure out what you could possibly be calling a family meeting for. “No fucking way. Already?” He blurts out when he finally puts two and two together. Your eyes widen when they dart over to him, catching sight of the shit eating grin plastered to his face.

Fuck, is this skxawng going to spoil it for me? You think to yourself, apparently loud enough for Ralak to hear. He squeezes your shoulders before sliding his hands down the full length of your arms and letting go. “Mawey [calm].” He breathes, his head still hanging low. You look behind you, tilting your head up to meet his comforting gaze.

“Hey, babygirl.” Jake’s voice snaps your attention back down, having you look your father in the eye. His smile is as wide as his arms as he approaches you for a hug.

“Dad. Hey.” You whisper, returning the hug and snuggling into his chest. You bask in the moment, lingering onto how things are now—before you drop the bomb on him.

“I missed ya.” Jake chuckles, rubbing your back. He finally lifts his head and sees your ‘shadow’ hovering a little closer than needed. “Jeez, let her breathe, boy. She’s just huggin’ her old man.” Ralak keeps his head hung and takes a small but noticeable step back. Jake gives you a quick peck on the head as he begins to pull away. “What have ya’ been up—”

Jake cuts himself short, leaning back in to smell your hair. His eyebrows gather when he recognizes the familiar scent. Neytiri has smelled similarly a few times before. Jake grinds his teeth, scrunched brows and narrow eyes giving away his current state of mind. His hands slide down your arms, gripping then as he looks you dead in the eye. “Y/n. You got somethin’ to tell me?”

“Dad–” You swallow down the knot in your throat, already getting choked up.

Jake's lips purse into a thin line as his death-stare immediately averts to Ralak. And for what feels like an eternity, nothing but silence fills the room. The tension in the air is almost suffocating. Jakes eyeing Ralak down whilst Ralaks stare is locked on the way he’s holding you.

You glance over at your brothers. One’s obviously got it figured out, arms crossed, shaking his head with a smug look on his face. And one is completely clueless—poor thing. You look back at your father who is now seething, leer averted back to you as he exerts all his energy into being patient.

“What’s going on? Guys?” Neteyam breaks the silence with a worried tone to his voice. His eyes bounce from person to person, until they land on his brother.

“He knocked her up.” Lo’aks whispers harshly, not even trying to be discreet. Neteyams brows raise and now he is, too, staring at you. You feel all the blood drain from your face and suddenly you’re extremely light in the head.

Mortified is an understatement.

Everyone is clearly waiting for you to confirm it. But you’re having such a difficult time saying the two silly little words. The pressure is on now, you could even see Ralak straining to hold his tongue. You finally muster up a cowardly nod, and immediately your fathers grip intensifies, squeezing your arms firm and tight. He’s looking down at you with eyes of disbelief and somewhat disappointment, frantically searching yours to see if this is really the truth. You let loose a low hiss, wincing when you feel the pinch of his grip.

Not even another second passes when you hear the slap of your husband’s large hands grabbing ahold of your father’s wrists.

“She is pregnant.”

A deep, but low growl rips from Ralaks chest. In other words, ‘never lay your hands on a pregnant woman’. Ralak dwarfs Jake as he inches in a little closer, grasping his wrists just firm enough to send this message.

“Yeah. Got it, bud.” Jake returns a growl through his teeth and tightened lips. He shifts his position slightly, eyes flicking down to acknowledge what his son in law is trying to get across. Nonetheless, Jake stands his ground. “Get your hands off me.”

Ralak tries to regain his composure, but his protective instincts have just about gone haywire. The urge to protect has never been so intense before. It’s like his soul knows that there’s just more to protect.

More at stake.

Ralak looks down at your fathers hands once more, silently making his point clear. He holds eye contact with Toruk makto whilst he remains unmoving.

“Lak…” You squeak a warning to your husband, who only flutters his jaw as a response. Lo’ak and Neteyam are on edge, both concerned that their father has a grip on you, but even more so that Ralak has a grip on their father. They watch intently, trying to decipher if and when they need to intervene.

To everyone’s surprise, Jake exhales harshly through his nose and gently pulls away from you, but wrenches his wrists away from Ralak’s grasp. “Sorry, kid.” Jake spits an apology, readjusting his position to be directly in front of Ralak. “Care to explain how this happened so damn quick?”

“Dad!” You shout in disbelief, wedging yourself back in between the two.

“You know what? Don’t even answer that.” Jake snaps.

“You know you are really no one to talk! Where’s mom? Mom!” You go on the tips of your toes, leaning from side to side to look for her behind both the two male na’vi.

“‘xcuse me?” Jake purposely blocks your view by bobbing his head wherever yours goes. “I am still your father and you will not speak to me that—” Jake steps to the left to avoid Ralak and walk towards you. Ralak quickly adjusts himself to be the wall between you and your father, not allowing Jake the chance to even finish his sentence. Ralak is now looking down at Jake with a stoic expression, trying his best not to come off intimidating or challenging in any way.

All to no avail.

“You got a problem with me, boy?” Jake grumbles through his clenched jaw, getting in Ralaks face now.

“No. Only keeping my word, sir.” Ralak simply responds.

Jakes brought back to the very moment he made Ralak give him his word. His word that he’d never let a thing happen to his baby girl. The night you completed your iknimaya. The night he granted Ralak the permission to mate with you.

The night Ralak took your virginity.

Jake stalls for a few seconds, taken aback by Ralaks behaviour but a little impressed at the same time. Jake's expression softens upon realizing that Ralak is just protecting his mate—just as he does Neytiri, especially during her pregnancies.

But there’s no way in hell that Jake will be the first one to back down here.

“Mom!” You call for her once more, hoping that she’ll swoop in and save the day.

Neytiri rushes in, hand on her hip where she keeps her dagger sheathed—worry and concern etched into her features. She analyses the situation, taking in the scene of her own mate standing face to face with yours. She glances over at you, seeing the panic in your eyes and the hand on your stomach that you didn’t even know you had placed there. Slowly walking up to the two male na’vi, she places a firm hand on her mates chest, pushing him away from Ralak. “Ma’ Jake. What is happening here?”

Jake’s pressing his lips firmly together, not wanting to say the words. He shakes his head a little, huffing through his nostrils before placing a hand on his hip. His other hand extends in your direction, as if he were pointing out the obvious. Yet he remains choked up and speechless, his hand falling to his thigh as he gives up.

Finally, he mumbles, “Go on. Tell her.”

Neytiri looks back at you, eyes trailing back down to your hand that’s mindlessly resting on your stomach as she awaits for your answer. You feel the burn of her eyes, yanking away your hand when it becomes too much. Being the daughter of Mo’at, a tsahik, Neytiri needed nothing more than a quick glance and sniff to know what’s going on. “Is this true?”

“Yes, mom. It is true. I am.” You say in a defeated tone of voice. Ralak shifts himself, settling close beside you now rather than in front of you. He always had an even greater respect for your mother.

Neytiri’s expression only grows softer, until there's no trace of concern left in her face. Her smile is downturned but her eyes are bright, glistening with joy as she pulls you in for a warm embrace.

“It is a blessing from Eywa, my child.”

She pulls away from you, now looking over to Ralak. Neytiri lays a gentle hand on Ralaks upper bicep, “Seykxel sì nitram [congratulations] .” Ralak signs ‘I see you’ to his mother in law, exchanging a light hearted smile with her.

It was no secret that Neytiri longed to be a grandmother. Her days of children are over now, although she was expecting her eldest, Neteyam, to give her a grandchild first. But Ralak — Ralak is a remarkable, mighty warrior and hunter. The olo’eyktans right hand man, and undoubtedly the best fisherman in the village.

In fact, Ralak was one of the first people Neytiri took a liking to after she adjusted to the way of water. She always felt that he was a good suitor for her daughter.

“Are you kiddin’ me? It’s barely been two months!” Jake scoffs, shaking his head.

“And a day for us, Jake.” Neytiri tries her best to keep a calm, but firm voice. “They are a mated pair, they are having a family now. It is Eywa’s will.”

Jake quiets himself, reflecting on his harsh ways. He sighs, loudly. His eyes finally glance down to what everyone in the room has been looking at, now staring at your protective hand that mindlessly lay over your womb once again. He grits his teeth, averting his stare to the ground, eyeing the charred wood of the fire pit. His tongue clicks as he parts his lips, muttering—

“I know… I know, alright? She’s just—” He looks up at Neytiri, then Ralak, and then you. “She’s my babygirl.”

It’s his way of saying, ‘I just want to protect my family.’

“Dad. I am but—but I’m not your baby anymore. I’m not a kid.” You croak, finding it hard to hold eye contact with him. “Your grandson is the new baby of this family.”

Jake tries to fight the way his eyebrows scrunch together, it was like hearing about the news of his firstborn son all over again. He exhales slowly, nodding his head and extending his arms to hold you. His warmth envelopes you completely, leaving no room for any cold or harsh thoughts and feelings to linger.

“You keep ‘em safe.” Jake's chin presses into the crown of your head as he mutters the words to Ralak. Ralak had always had a hard time understanding Jake's native slang, but this he understood— loud and clear.

“Always.” Ralak answers firmly.

Your safety has been, is and will always be his number one priority.

Jake nods once, squeezing you a little tighter before letting go fully. “Seykxel sì nitram [congratulations], you two.”

“Thank you, dad.” You smile whilst Ralak bows his head. Neteyam and Lo’ak finally come over for their hugs, making a comment of their own as they release you from their grasps.

“I’m gonna teach him everything I know.” Lo’aks grin is unnerving and a little sinister, giving away the trouble that he’s already trying to get your son into.

“Please don’t.” You joke back with your brother, even though you’re being dead serious.

Neteyam jabs an elbow into his brother's rib cage, disciplining him for his mischief. “Agh — do not worry, Uncle TeTe will keep him in check.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” You say softly with a smile on your face, “‘Uncle TeTe’. I like that.”

“Hey, don’t forget about ‘Uncle Lo’Lo’.” Lo’ak chimes in.

“Eh. Doesn’t have the same ring to it, you know? What do you think, lak?” You jester, looking up at him to be met with a slight smirk.

“Very… hiyìk [strange; funny].” Ralaks smirk pulls at his lips a little more. “But, at least it is not ‘ak’-ak’.”

You swear you hear a little chuckle from everyone in the room. All except Lo’ak, who is staring at Ralak with a deadpan expression, arms crossed defensively over his chest. It feels like an eternity passes until Lo’ak finally booms with laughter, extending his arm out to Ralak, who gaily reciprocates and meets Lo’aks’ with a smack.

“I like this bodyguard of yours, y/n. He actually has a sense of humour.”

You let loose a scoff and roll your eyes, about ready to wrap this whole thing up and lie down in bed. It’s seemingly obvious, seeing that everyone is giving you space as they take note of your restless body language and bowed shoulders.

“If you are tired, you should rest.” Neytiri advises, just as you feel Ralaks hand tuck under your arm to support your weight. “Your body is working hard right now.”

“Yeah, mom. I think I need to lie down for a little.” You mumble, leaning into your mate a little more.

Your family practically ushers you out, encouraging you to get some rest and to get off your feet. Ralak walks close to you on the way home, keeping with the pace you set to the tee — only intervening with a hand to your hip when necessary.

And when you finally slump into bed, your eyelids flutter shut before Ralak can settle himself beside you.

——smut warning——

You rouse to Ralak drawing the curtain of your marui, blocking out the orange hue of the last eclipse. It dawns on you that you’ve slept out most of the day. You didn’t even realise you were so tired to begin with.

“You should have woken me earlier. I slept out the day.” You mumble, sitting up in bed and lightly kicking off the sheets.

Ralak turns around, surprised that you’re awake. He curses himself under his breath; he was hoping to keep you sleeping by drawing the curtains but instead he did the opposite.

“You needed to rest.” He says, making his way over to sit on the edge of the bed. “You have been more tired recently.”

“Yeah?” You snort, “…and what else have I been, sir know-it-all?”

Ralak chuckles, his eyes falling to your stomach. “…a little more hungry.”

You smile a little, remembering his fish wrap comment from earlier.

But then you witness his half-lidded eyes glaze over with something of… wanton. It takes a second to realise that they’re no longer staring at your belly. They’re staring at your tewng [loincloth]. More specifically, the mound imprinting it.

It’s the way your pussy is being so tightly squeezed by the thin cloth covering it. It’s the one thing that Ralak can’t help himself from indulging in admiring. Then his eyes snap away, unexpectedly meeting yours. The stare he’s giving you has your thighs rubbing together and your lower tummy tingling.

“…a little more tempting.” His voice is thick like honey, laced with lust and arousal.

In every way. From the way you fill out your top more, to your scent—you’re becoming more

irresistible the farther along you progress. Your heart beats a little harder between your ribs as you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth. His lecherous gaze is fixed, blue eyes piercing into yours. It’s been too long since he’s been inside you that it aches.

But he’s been patient.

Especially since the day he figured out you were pregnant. With the way you smelt he found it hard to keep his distance at times but nonetheless, he did it. But the truth is that you haven’t had penetrative sex since your cycles synced.

To be clear, he took care of you just fine.

Tending to your needs whenever you initiated intimacy with him but he never took it further than his fingers and mouth. After seeing you so battered by his own hands he found it hard to put you in a position that could garner a similar result again.

For a while, he lost trust within himself.

That he no longer had the capacity for self control. Not only did he feel like he didn’t deserve it, but he never expected you to return the pleasure either. He had already taken you on his own terms. Repeatedly.

Ruthlessly.

So when you ate one to many of his payoang niktsyey [fish wraps] — when the new earthiness of your scent wafted past his nose — he knew. He knew it stuck. He knew your womb swelled with his child as each day passed. And the urge to protect only swelled with it.

He became even more gentle with you. Handling you with care when your skin softened and your hips became a little fuller. Ensuring he had excess when he cooked. Weaving an extra thick blanket for you to sleep with when he was off on duty with Tonowari.

It ached most when he’d come home just to see it kicked off onto the floor, with you on your stomach and your leg propped up just right. Your loincloth would always shift to the side, just enough to expose plump folds that innocently peek through the seam of the thin fabric. Fuck, it more than ached. It made him tender. Throbbing in his own tewng.

Just like now.

He dares not to break the steady, intent stare. Or else he may steal another glance at the softness between your thighs. But he can see in your eyes that you feel similarly. You always give him that look before doing something ‘troublesome’. You break eye contact first, your eyes now landing on his tewng.

Fuck.

Your eyes widen a little when you catch sight of the growing, thick bulge in his loincloth. Your gaze locks onto it, taking in every detail. From the thick stripes on his thighs to the way the twine of his loincloth is cutting into his v-lines. You can even see the outline of the crown of his cock.

His stomach rises and falls from his uneven breathing, and his abs pop out one by one as he leans further back—supporting his torso with his arms behind his back. He was never shy about his body, and he certainly isn’t now.

“Then, why do you resist me?” Though it's a question, it doesn’t sound like one when the words drip off your lips. Your voice is soft and feigned with innocence, yet you're shuffling to get on all fours to crawl over to him. You truthfully don’t care for the answer, you knew that it would be the same old song—‘he doesn’t want to hurt you’.

“I hurt you.” He says coldly—simply, glancing at the fading scar on your shoulder as you settle yourself on your knees beside him. He watches as your hand finds purchase on his knee, and slides up his thigh. “And now that you are with child… I—haah”. He’s cut short with a shaky breath and slight jolt when you cup his bulge with a bit of force. He looks down at your hand, dainty and slender, barely grasping half of what’s under his tewng.

“You worry about me too much.” You mumble, more focused on the speed at which his cock pulses at. “Yet still, never yourself.” You feel around, sliding your palm up and down its length, earning a rough exhale from Ralak in return. His lidded eyes dart back over to you, taking in the sight of you almost bent over his lap.

“That so?” His voice is thick and gruff.

“Mhm. ‘m always telling you that, aren’t I?” You hum softly, slowly moving your hand further down between his legs, firmly cupping his balls. They’re heavy in your hand, hot to the touch and—

Eywa.

“They’re swollen.” You whisper breathlessly, your glossy eyes meeting him with concern. They dart back to his crotch, your hand now fumbling with the twine of his tewng, hurriedly trying to unravel the knot to get the suffocating fabric off him.

“‘tis fine.” He winces as he spits out the words, watching you pinch him a little while struggling with the taut material.

Ignoring his words, you continue with your task, a bit more gently now. And when the knot comes undone, the twine falls off his hips and the tewng loosens with it. You tug it off him and see that they’re not only puffed up but also darker in colour. They’re firm and pulled close to his body, perfectly round and stripes well-defined.

Shamefully, it turns you on to see his balls so full.

Just the thought of them being so swollen with his seed that they’re aching and throbbing to empty themselves inside you—fuck, it’s making your teeth grit. You sit back into the dip of your feet and stare as your breathing becomes heavier. The more you look the more you realize that they’re pulling tighter and tighter towards his core. You look up at him, a little surprised. Your arousal is etched into your features and it’s more than obvious in your body language. You want to know how they’d feel in your mouth. How they’d taste.

If they’d even fit.

Without another passing second you bend over his lap, tail high in the air and legs spread—the overpowering scent of your arousal filling the air. You shove your face between his thighs, inhaling deeply his musky scent. You let out a breath of desire, one that sounds nothing short of pleasure and satisfaction. He smells too good. You can’t help yourself but give his firm balls a quick, kitten lick. The giant above you holds back his chuckle, finding your behaviour cute and honestly a little amusing. Feeling like the butt of a joke, you firmly grasp his length and tug it upwards, causing his balls to pull even tighter.

“Y/n.” He hisses your name, adjusting his legs to rid himself of the strained feeling. You wet your lips with a quick swipe of your tongue, and press your cheek against them. They’re hot—heating up a degree higher the more you tease him. Just as you pull your cheek away and manage to fit one of them into your mouth, his hand flies to the back of your head, balling your hair into his fist.

“You need not to—” your tail curls and the tip of it tickles against his chest, “—haah…do this.” Ralak huffs out a sigh of frustration it seems, looking down at you with somewhat of a predatory leer. You pop off with a pwah, catching your breath and turning your head.

You both share an intent stare with one another, one that feels more challenging than anything. He’s insistent that he’s undeserving of this, and you’re insistent that he must be taken care of. His grip loosens on your hair, until he lets you go completely.

“Shh…shh.” You shush him, eyes narrowing as they remain locked onto him. You slowly slide off the bed one leg at a time, sinking to your knees and settling yourself between his legs—now looking up at him with doe-eyes. The sight before you has your heart palpitating, just like the sight of your face so close to his cock has his jaw clenching.

Ralak quiets himself by locking his jaw, waiting patiently to see how this unfolds. It’s the first he’s seen you in this position, on your knees, between his. His cock twitches in excitement as clear, thick beads of precum begin to roll down its length. You swallow thickly at the sight, wrapping your dainty fingers around its girth to pull it close to your flushed lips.

Ralaks ears flutter and his eyelids grow heavy, his chest heaving as he shifts his weight to the palms of his hands—sitting up.

You open your mouth, strings of your saliva connecting your lips together. They break when you lower your head, taking the mushroomy, glistening head of his cock into your mouth. It’s mostly sweet, and a little salty too. The corners of your mouth sting as you accommodate his thickness, and you struggle to open your jaw wide enough to take him further into your mouth.

His head dips forward, eyes slamming shut when he feels your wet, warm tongue press against the underside of his cockhead. His hand flies to your head again, gently cupping the back of your skull as he lets out a strained breath.

Muffled noises vibrate through your nose as you swipe your tongue side to side against his head. It throbs against your tongue each time it hits that sensitive spot right down the middle. You suckle and swipe at the same time, using your hands to pump the rest of his length until you're grunting and snorting for air. You come up, gasping to fill your lungs.

His hand quickly slides from the back of your head to cup the swell of your cheek. His calloused thumb swipes at a bead of saliva rolling down your chin and pops it back into your mouth. “What are you doing, my tanhì?” He whispers the rhetorical question, ensuring his voice is calm and gentle. It sounds as if he’s given up—given in.

Without answering, you take him back into your mouth, locking your jaw once you open it as wide as you possibly can. You stick your tongue out as far as it’ll go and look up at him with eyes that begin to water. He looks down at you with a concerned expression, which morphs into one of astonishment. Your head goes lower and lower, taking inch after inch of his cock down your throat.

The tears in your eyes finally spill over, and your nose begins to burn. Half of his length is down your throat and you can barely breathe, but the more his face grimaces from how good you feel around him, the more of him you urge yourself to take. You hold onto his hips, using them as leverage to shove more of him down your throat.

“Hnng. Easy.” He groans roughly, pushing back against your shoves. “You are pregnaaah—mmn, you will make yourself sick, tanhì.”

Lifting your hand from his hip, you smack away his hand and take him full hilt, his cock hitting the back of your throat, making it bulge. You stop for a second, slowly inhaling through your nose to focus on not gagging. You try moving the back of your tongue, slowly stroking the rest of his length with your hand.

“Ah, shit.” He exhales shakily, his eyes rolling back before squeezing shut. He looks focused, like he’s concentrating on not cumming down your throat right then and there. Lips parted slightly, each breath he takes becomes louder and more raggedy. His thigh muscles tense up and his legs spread a little more, his hand finding its own way to the base of your kuru.

Chest swelling with pride, you begin to bob your head and coat his cock with your sticky spit. The more slippery it gets the harder he has to fight back his choked grunts. The grip he has on your kuru is tightening, as if he were preparing himself to pry you off his cock before he fills your throat.

Suddenly, his head sinks back and his jaw clenches—hard. You could feel it. The way his cock twitches. The way it’s heating up. The way it’s swelling in your mouth. Gurgled noises are escaping past his lips, and he purses them tightly together in attempts to keep himself quiet. His core flexes, and his hips start to stutter. His whole body jolts from how sensitive he’s getting, and finally he thrusts into your mouth, the pointed tip of his cock slamming into the back of your throat.

You silently gag as his hips stammer into you and he’s fucking your throat in frenzied little movements. He’s trying his hardest to be as gentle as he possibly can.m, but your throat is so soft and tight around him. You swallow around his cock as you try to take a breath and suddenly his erratic movements still.

“Y/n.” He lets loose a dying groan as his head slumps forward and his inebriated eyes struggle to open.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

His voice is gravelly and thick with restraint. You love to see him like this—hear him like this. You can’t help the wandering hand that’s making its way down to your soaked tewng. You try to touch yourself through the fabric, but have a hard time finding your clit with it covered like this. Exasperated, you shove your hand under the band of your loincloth and use all four fingers to rub sloppy circles into your puffy clit.

Ralak is too immersed into this to even take note of your desperation. He’s too desperate himself. And if you don’t stop now, he really won’t be able to help himself. He begins tugging you by your queue, trying to pry you away from him. With each hasty swipe of your fingers you suck a little harder, as if you were trying to match your pleasure with your mates’. He pulls at your kuru even harder but you’re unbudging, firmly holding the base of his cock as you relentlessly suckle on the most sensitive part of his tip.

“Stop.” He growls out of breath, finally looking down just to be tipped close to the edge by the sight below him. You look dumb and fucked out with his cock stuffed in your mouth, broken moans vibrating against his length as you franticly touch yourself.

Finally, he yanks you off him with one swift, hard tug, his cock slapping his stomach when it pops out of your mouth. You land on your behind, legs spreading wide open as your fingers work away at your now throbbing clit.

“Why? Can’t handle it?” You taunt him between pants and breathy, hoarse moans. Rather than answering he looks down at you with a cocked brow, kuru still in hand. Both of you stare at one another, shoulders and chests violently heaving as you both pant for air. He’s raw and pulsing, twitching from the heartbeat in the crown of his cock.

It's suspended mid air, jumping from how insanely aroused he’s left himself. Sticky beads of precum constantly roll down his shaft, one after the next and his balls are throbbing too. You get back on your knees and lunge for his cock again, tongue darting out to have another taste. He pulls you back, his hand still having a firm grasp of your kuru.

“Is this what you are like when you have been bred?” Ralak huffs, a little taken aback by your lewd behaviour. His gaze shifts to your pathetic attempt to make yourself cum, and a smirk spreads across his lips. “So desperate.” Your silence has his brows scrunching together and him yanking your head back so you’re looking up at him. A growl rumbles in his chest as he slowly rises to his feet, bringing you to your knees with him—his hung cock swaying directly in your face.

A smug little smile pulls at your lips when you realise you’re riling him up. You witness his jawbone flutter, his ears laying flat against his skull. He just wants to stuff his cock back down your throat to teach you a lesson. Instead he shoves your face into his crotch, your nose burying itself into the space between his cock and balls. He holds you there for a few seconds, just long enough that when he finally pulls you away you suck in a tiny gasp of air.

Ralak sighs a low, lengthy breath, forcing himself to regain his composure. He can’t understand how such a little thing can be so feisty. To act as if he couldn’t pin you down and take you without a scuffle. Truthfully it only makes him even harder. It only further proves that you are really the woman for him.

Slowly bringing you to your feet, he keeps your face pressed to his body so that your bottom lip drags along his torso as you make your way up. Your hand is still stuffed inside your tewng, slick fingers working hard to find their way back to your clit. With his free hand he grabs a hold of your hip, and steadily backs you up against the wall.

When your back hits the wall, a shaky breath is expelled from your lungs. He lets go of your kuru and rips your hand from your tewng. He then wedges his knee between your legs, putting pressure on your clit, making it flutter uncontrollably. His movements are quick but gentle, filled with purpose and desire. His eyes dart back and forth between yours as he searches them, his face just inches away from yours.

“Answer me, little one.” He whispers into your mouth.

“Yes.” Your answer is breathy and short.

Ralak heaves a heavy sigh.

“I am trying to be gentle…” He speaks the words through gritted teeth, using both hands on your hips to spin you around to face the wall. He lowers his head until his lips graze against the tip of your ear. “…but you make it so hard for me.” He growls, using the perfect amount of force to pin you against the wall with his body. His large hand swiftly moves to your lower stomach, cupping it to act as a protective barrier between the wall and your budding womb.

“No need to be. I can handle you just fine.” Your lips are pressed tight to your teeth, face flush against the smooth surface, making it hard for you to speak clearly. “Pregnant or not.”

Ralak chuckles.

“Is that right?” He speaks in an almost condescending tone, hurriedly tugging down your loincloth just enough to get access to your cunt. Without warning, he bends his knees a little to align your pelvises and then shoves his cock between your slickened, warm folds. “Oh tanhì, you are soaked.” His voice quiets down into a hushed whisper, “All from sucking my cock?”

A mewl splits your lips just as all the blood rushes to your face, staining it a bright pink. Your pussy clenches around nothingness only causing more of your slick to ooze on his cock. Your breath turns shaky, tail swishing wildly behind you. You can’t move even if you wanted to. He’s got you pinned down, quickly reminding you of his strength. And had it not been for his hand on your abdomen you would be completely plastered to the wall and taken on his terms.

“Tsk-tsk…Have you no shame?” Ralak tuts, holding you still. “Or must I give you a lesson on self-restraint?”

Despite his cockiness you can sense the urgency in his body language and in his voice. You can feel it in the way his hips stutter, as his cock slides back and forth between your pussy lips. His own desperation. The desire to be inside you. The need for release.

“Go on then, karyu.” You moan softly, causing his grip on you to loosen for a millisecond. Hearing that name brings a feeling of nostalgia. Of lust. You push back into him, your slippery hole trying to suck him inside with a few quick movements of your pelvis. “But I know you’ve been desperate… desperate to fuck your numeyu.”

“Oh, little one.” His chuckle is dark and depraved, his protective hand stiffening as if he were preparing it for what's to come. “Yet you are trying your hardest to take me inside you.” He licks your ear lobe to tip, whispering, “so cute.”

“Fnawe’tu [coward].” You mutter under your breath, steadying your feet to ground yourself.

Ralaks ears flicker and stand tall, then immediately lay flat to his head—his brow cocking in astonishment. His smirk grows wider, the heat in his chest spreading to his extremities. Now that pushes him over the edge.

“Say that again, numeyu.” He challenges you in a growl, angling his hips so his weeping cockhead prods at your entrance. He ensures not to let the buck of his hips win, keeping you empty and yearning.

“Haah… afraid to take what’s yours.” You purr, rising to the tips of your toes to try sink him inside you. “Fnawe’tu—”

Smack.

The sound of his swollen balls making contact with your puffy clit is almost as loud as your broken gasp. You smile open mouthed as he holds his position balls deep inside you, firmly pressing the tip of his cock into your cervix. He’s grinding his back teeth, digging his chin into your shoulder to quell the rumble of his chest from how tight you’re squeezing his cock.

You whine from the fullness of him stuffed inside your cunt, his unmoving hips sending a clear message of dominance. He’s hunched over you, body weight pinning you mercilessly against the wall, hand over your womb to keep your unborn safe—as promised. Still being gentle enough.

But you want him to lose it.

To fuck into you like he were in rut again. To use your pussy like a fucktoy to satiate his own greed and self pleasure. He deserves that much, for being such a competent and loving man to you. Yet it seems the only way to bring that out of him is to play dirty.

“Fnawe’tu [coward].” You repeat shakily.

Smack.

Another deep and hard thrust into your sloppy cunt. He lets loose the rumble in his chest this time, bearing his canines and putting most of his weight on you now. Lips pressed tightly together, your whimper is muffled and outright pathetic, pinched brows giving away the pleasure rippling through you. Still, he remains unmoving, undeniably making it clear who has the most leverage here. But that doesn’t really matter to you—you’re getting what you want, one way or another.

Right?

“Voìk si, little one [behave].” Ralak hisses, fighting the inner conflict within him.

“Haa—” Your laugh that follows is a little sinister, open mouthed and smug. Hands pressing into the wall you push off its surface, sinking him deeper inside you. “No.”

“Alright.” His voice is husky, thick with confidence and temperance.

With a rough, quick tug, his cock slips out of you with a squelch, hanging freely between his legs. Your slick mixed with his precum slowly dribbling off his tip and onto the floor between your pointed feet. You fall to the flat of your feet, panting and whining from the sudden emptiness.

“W-Wait.” You squeak, hastily getting back on the tips of your toes to stuff him inside you again. “Please.”

“What was that?” Ralak asks, voiced feigned with innocence. “A little louder.”

“Please.” You barely whisper, backing up on him.

“Come now, tanhì.” His hand slips from your hip to grip his cock. Giving it a few strokes he teases your cunt with his cockhead and you instinctively shimmy down. Hips snapping back to prevent you from taking him inside, he dips his head so his mouth is next to your ear and husks, “You can do better than that.”

“Please!” You moan loudly in desperation, reaching down to your knees to unfetter yourself from your tewng [loincloth].

“Please, what?” Ralak spits the last word through pursed lips, ready to give you exactly what you want if you just ask for it nicely.

“Please put it back inside.” You beg pathetically, finally getting the knot of your tewng undone. “Please, fuck me.”

“Ahh, there’s my good girl.” Ralak praises you with a grin, sinking his cock into your warmth at a leisurely pace. His breathing stutters for every inch that penetrates you. “Was that so hard?”

“Fuck.” You moan in relief, spreading your legs wider. He’s tamed you and he knows it. “No.”

“No…?” Ralak says it like a question, hissing when he bottoms out in your cunt.

“No, karyu.” You answer coyly, voice faltering from the pressure of his cockhead pushing into your cervix.

“Agh—haah” Ralak lets out a gruff grunt in response, his hips now snapping back and forth out of his control. He’s huffing and puffing next to your ear, pumping his cock in and out of you in a frenzy of need. Swollen balls repeatedly slapping against your clit, it’s almost impossible to hold back the gurgled noises escaping your throat.

“Fuck—so—fuckin’—deep—fuck.” The curses are punched out of you as he relentlessly smacks into you again and again.

“Lì’fyaz [language.]” Ralak chides in a growl, hand slipping down to pull back the hood of your clit—taut.

The continuous sting of your clit has your legs shaking and the way his cockhead is repeatedly stimulating your sweet spot has your eyes rolling back into your head. It’s almost too much all at once yet you yearn for more. Your cunt clamps down around him, especially when the tension becomes so tight you feel your stomach double-knot. Ralak hums when you tighten around him, only making him rut harder into you.

Pulling back, he glances down at you sucking him in, your tail curled tight to your back and his cock plunging in and out of your pussy. He can see just how tight you are as your pussy walls grip his girth mercilessly. And with the protective hand on your abdomen, he can feel each thrust against the palm of his hand. It makes his chest swell with pride—

You carry his child yet still take him so well.

“Oeÿa tsantu [my good girl]” Ralak slips into his native tongue, panting in an accent as thick as tree sap. “Oeÿa numeyutsyìp [my little student]”

Ralaks cock heats up inside you, heating your core along with it. It’s the same familiar sensation you feel before he provides you with your release. The feeling that keeps your eyes squeezed shut and breath shallow. He knows your close and slows his thrusts like he usually does, fucking you a little harder rather than faster, angling his pelvis so he’s right in your swelling g-spot.

Your hands fly behind you, grasping at whatever’s available as your orgasm washes through you. You gush all over your thighs, cum dribbling down your legs to your feet, some spattering on Ralak as he fucks and holds you through your high. It’s sudden and uncontrollable, leaving you sputtering out nonsense and your legs shaking violently beneath you.

“There it is. Good muntxate [wife].” Ralak huffs with a smirk, relishing in the quick, feverish flutter of your cunt on his cock. His voice is shaky from his uneven rhythm now that he can finally allow himself to finish too. “Love—hng—when you cum for me, you—ahh, haah—know that?”

He begins grinding to you, shoving you further into the wall as he focuses on his own climax. He uses his feet to kick your legs closed, and pulls out of you, stuffing himself between your thighs. He’s groaning and growling, hunched over you with bent knees and flushed, flattened ears. Skin slapping against skin, he humps at your thighs, thick cock sliding back and forth over your still pulsing clit.

His cockhead continuously pokes out between your folds, tip oozing and oozing with precum. Both his hands fly to your hips, gripping them with force as his thrusts become almost violent. You struggle to keep yourself standing as his hips smack into you repeatedly, your body jolting with each thrust. He gives you one last, harsh thrust, holding you still against him as you feel his cock throb wildly between your thighs. You look down to see his huge load shoot out in thick, white ropes. He’s grumbling behind you, giving your thighs an extra few uncontrollable thrusts as he peaks in his high.

Finally you fall to the flat of your feet, his arms instantly snaking around your waist to support your weight entirely.

“I told you no taunting, tanhì.” He’s referring to the time he opened up about his first rut, “Next time, you ask nicely. Tslam? [Understand?]” Ralak says breathlessly.

“Sran, oeÿa karyu. tslolam. [Yes, my teacher. I understand].” You blubber, fucked out and jaded.

——

2K notes · View notes

mononijikayu · 4 months

Text

“slipping through my fingers” — gojo satoru.

Your little Satoshi pouted for a moment, clearly missing their presence.You were sure he was going to bawl about it as well, swaying him and reassuring him that he’s going to see them later on. But his loving father Gojo Satoru, was always quick to adapt and took over playing with him after breakfast. Crisis was averted in the department of tears as Gojo Satoshi giggled, his chubby hands clumsily trying to catch the ball Satoru rolled towards him.

GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, family, comfort, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, mention of breastfeeding, mention of postpartum effects, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

LISTEN: slipping through my fingers by abba

NOTE: i had to skip nanami and toji because today is a very important day. today according to the united nations, is global day of parents. today we should honor parents, biological or not, or those we chose - they are people we should embrace. from gaza, to here in asia, to anywhere, all parents, all those who stand as our parents - they deserve all our love. happy global day of parents from me to you!!! i love you!!!

masterlist

u s and t h e m

kayu's playlist — side 700;

TIME PASSED BY SO FAST. The morning sun filtered through the light gray curtains, casting a warm, golden hue over the living room. It was rare for the Gojo household to be this serene. But you were happy that it was the case. It was as if a gentle rain of gentle peace had showered over your home the moment your son was born. It was as if he had completed this family. You knew you weren’t the only one that thought that way.

You hummed softly, feeling the warmth on your skin as you prepared breakfast. It was a good morning.It was one of those rare days when your husband Gojo Satoru was at home. And that puts you in a good mood. Your husband doesn’t sleep much and more so. That has always worried you, even when he was your kouhai. Nothing had changed with the fact that he’s always out and about working and doing missions.

But you worry still, that you aren’t there to soothe him and tell him it was alright to rest. When he’s home, you could do that. You didn’t have to worry as much as you usually do. Having him home means he could be here with the family. That also means he could stay in bed longer, savoring the simple pleasure of waking up next to you. These moments were precious, and you clung to them more than you could explain.

The start of the morning was happily slow, the house enveloped in a serene calm. You cherished the tranquility, knowing how fleeting it often was. As you moved about the kitchen, you could feel the warm sun against your silk robe. There it was again, the familiar sounds of the coffee maker and the sizzling of bacon omelets created a comforting symphony. The sound of the oven racks filled with fresh buttered bread. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the scent of breakfast.

You smiled as you thought about Satoru still in bed, his tousled white hair spread across the pillow, a rare sight of peacefulness. You poured a cup of coffee for yourself, adding two spoonfuls of honey. You knew Satoru would probably not be drinking coffee.

But just in case, you made hot choco he could heat up in the microwave later, adding just the right amount of cream and sugar to him. You take out the eggs from the fry pan and humming as you take out the buttered bread from the oven. Balancing the breakfast plate, you made your way to the living room, placing the plates on the coffee table.

As you expected, the morning birds were already there waiting for you to wake. Megumi and Tsumiki were already awake when you got out of the kitchen. They sat on the couch, engrossed in a morning cartoon, Tsumiki’s laughter and chatter filling the room with warmth and Megumi’s quiet hums as he listened to his sister’s commentary while drinking his carton of choco milk.

Tsumiki glanced up and greeted you with a bright smile. "Good morning!"

"Good morning, sweetie!" you replied, returning to the kitchen for your coffee mug on the table. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did.” Tsumiki grinned, hugging you by your sides.“Thank you for helping me put my new butterfly comforters last night, Gen-san!”

You smiled at her, urging her to breakfast. “Then go eat, hm?”

You then moved towards the sleepy porcupine haired boy, ruffling his hair with a small grin. He looked away from the television, offering a small, sleepy smile. “You must have been up reading those novels again, hm?”

Megumi's eyes widened slightly before he looked away. “...no, I didn’t.”

“Hmm… so if I check your room, I wouldn’t see a pile of books—”

“No!” He got defensive, standing up from his chair, now almost fully awake.

You blinked and looked at Tsumiki, and the two of you giggled together.

Megumi blushed as he sighed. You patted his head softly, causing him to blush even more. “You know, you’re lucky that it’s a Sunday, kid,” you smiled at him. “You would have been sleepy all day.”

“.....It was good.”

You kissed the top of his head. “I know it was.”

"Where's Satoru-san?" Tsumiki asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"He's still resting," you said, settling onto the couch beside them. "He had a long week, so we're letting him sleep in today."

Megumi nodded, his attention already drifting back to the show. You called Megumi down to sit by you and Tsumiki as you both ate your meals. Megumi was not the type to indulge in breakfast, he liked just drinking his choco milk and going on with the morning. But some days, he liked to indulge himself. He sat beside you, and put his choco milk on the side. Tsumiki and you started to chatter about the cartoon while Megumi ate in silence, nodding along with what you both were saying.

Tsumiki was happy to help you carry the dishes back into the kitchen while Megumi took a cleaning rag and started to clean the coffee table spotless. Tsumiki started talking about what she was planning to do today, all the while you listened and handed the plates for her to dry with the kitchen towel. Megumi came by soon after, asking for help to wash the cleaning rag.

When that was done, Megumi took out the lint roller and started to check for any speck of dirt like crumbs. When he was done, you three went back to the living room and started watching a movie together. Tsumiki snuggled closer on your right while Megumi slept soundly on your left. You smiled and hugged her back, and massaged Megumi’s hair tenderly.

The baby monitor on the table crackled to life, and you heard soft cooing sounds coming from the nursery. "Looks like our little one is awake for the day." you said, standing up. "I'll go get him."

Tsumiki’s eyes brightened as she nodded. You stood there carefully, trying to be careful not to wake Megumi. You walked down the hallway, the morning light from the wide windows guiding your way. Entering the nursery, you found your six-month-old son awake in his crib, his bright eyes lighting up as he saw you like an ocean in the dawn. You grinned at him.

"Good morning, sweetheart," you cooed, lifting him into your arms. He babbled happily, his tiny hands reaching for your face. “You had a good sleep, didn’t you?”

As you returned to the living room, you saw your husband Satoru emerging from the bedroom, rubbing sleep from his cerulean eyes. He smiled when he saw you holding your son. "Morning, my treasures." he greeted, his voice warm and filled with love. “You both look so lively today, aren’t you?”

“You should say ‘good morning’ to papa, shouldn’t you, Satoshi?” You cooed as you handed your son gently giggled as Satoru took him in his arms.

“You’re just so happy to see ‘e, hm?” Your husband grinned as he gently wrapped his arms around your baby boy. “You should still sleep with us. I miss having you on our bed, ‘toshi.”

“Our Satoshi needs to learn how to be an independent little boy.” You kissed your husband tenderly on his lips, pouting as you part from him. “He’s not gonna last in our bed with all the rolling he’s been doing.”

“But ‘toshi wants to be with his mama and papa, don’t you, little one?” He cooes against your husband, both big blue eyes looking at you. “See, he agrees!”

“Not enough to be an argument.”

“Soon enough, ‘toshi. We’ll get there, don’t worry!”

"We shall see, naughty boys." you replied, grinning at him. "So, did you sleep well?"

"Like a baby," he chuckled, kissing your son’s cheek.. "Well, almost as well as our baby here."

You both laughed, and Satoru leaned in to kiss you, his lips soft and warm against yours. "I missed waking up with you, y’know?" he murmured. “Knowing you guys are here waiting for me to come home and I can’t be here. It sucks.”

"I’ve missed it too,’toru." you said, feeling a surge of affection for the man standing before you. "Let's enjoy this slow morning together, hm? Make it worthwhile until tomorrow, hm?”

Satoru nodded, taking your son's tiny hand in his. "I keep noticing it. But he's growing up so fast," he huffed at you, a hint of sadness in his voice. "He can sit up now, and he’s rolling. Soon enough he’s gonna start crawling.”

You sighed, kissing your son’s little head. “I still can’t believe he’s already six months old, my love. He’s already so big.”

“Sometimes I wish I could slow down time," Satoru said wistfully, staring at your little boy as he grabbed the sheets in his fingers. “He’s already so big, and I can’t always be home.”

"I know," you said softly, taking a moment to take his free hand in yours. “And don’t feel bad. You’re doing your best. You know that.”

“I do know that.” He sighed, squeezing your hand gently. “But I just… ever since he was born, I just wanted to be his dad. Just wanna stay here at home and raise him. Not out there, fighting curses and stuff. I wanna see him and ‘miki and ‘gumi growing up together, y’know? I don’t wanna do the job anymore.”

You looked into his bright cerulean eyes, seeing the conflict and the deep longing. You knew your Satoru hated being a sorcerer. Everything about it was painful for him. But he liked being a teacher, he liked that job. He wanted to do it for the longest time because he always thought it was the best way he could make change work. He saw that nurturing the youth was the best way to bring the Jujutsu world into the modern world.

But with all that, he also felt that to do what he does, to make it work — he has to sacrifice all the time he could be with you and the kids. And that, he hated more than he hated the sorcerer’s life. He hated being apart from what matters most in his life. Gojo Satoru was just a man too. He’s a man that longs for home, for family.

"You’re an amazing dad, Satoru," you reassured him. "And I know it’s hard, but you’re doing what you can to keep us safe and happy. The kids know that too. They love you for it.”

He nodded, a soft smile forming on his lips as he glanced back at your son. “It’s just… every moment I’m away, I feel like I’m missing out. I want to be there for every milestone, every laugh, every tear. I don’t want to miss anything anymore.”

"I understand," you whispered, your heart aching for him. "And we’ll make the most of the time we have together. Maybe one day, things will change, and you’ll be able to be home more. But for now, let’s cherish every moment.”

Satoru leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "Thank you," he murmured. "For understanding. For always being here. For making this place a home."

"We’re a team, my love." you said, squeezing his hand. "And no matter what, we’ll face everything together, hm? We’ll always be together.”

Your little boy cooed and giggled, making you both look at him. You laugh as you both kiss his cheeks. Looks like he agrees with the two of you. The two of you sat there, soaking in the precious morning. Despite the challenges and the fleeting nature of time, you found solace in each other and the beautiful family you were building. It makes you look forward to more days like these ones. You wanted nothing more than to be embraced by this peace.

The two of you stepped out of your bedroom a little while later, with Satoshi safely nestled in Satoru’s capable hands. Megumi’s porcupine hair sprang up as he sat up from his sleeping position, Tsumiki greeting him awake with a small smile. The soft sounds of your son gurgling and babbling filled the air, drawing Megumi and Tsumiki's attention toward the three of you.

Tsumiki squealed in delight and walked toward you, saying good morning to Satoshi. The baby seemed just as delighted with her, his tiny hand reaching out to Tsumiki. Megumi approached as well, and when Satoshi noticed him, his other hand reached out toward Megumi.

“Good morning, little guy!” Tsumiki cooed, gently taking Satoshi’s hand. "Did you sleep well?”

Satoshi responded with a happy babble, his eyes twinkling with curiosity and joy. Megumi, trying to hide his own excitement, gently took Satoshi’s other hand, earning a giggle from the baby.

“Looks like someone’s happy to see his big brother and sister,” Satoru said with a smile, his eyes soft as he watched the three of them interact. “He’s definitely wanting to have some play time with you both.”

“Then we will, Satoru-san!” Tsumiki grinned as her eyes filled with the stars. “I’m excited to see him play with the blocks again.”

“Hm, ‘toshi managed to lift them up well last night, didn’t he?” Satoru grinned back at her, his cerulean eyes darting at his baby boy. “What do you think, ‘toshi? Can you top yourself today, little dawn?”

Megumi, still holding Satoshi’s hand, looked up at Satoru. “He’s growing up so fast. It feels like just yesterday he was born.”

“I know,” Satoru replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of pride and wistfulness. “But we’re lucky to see him grow and to be a part of his little dawnings, hm?”

You watched the scene unfold, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “Every moment is precious, everyone.” you said softly, leaning against Satoru. “And we’re making the most of them.”

As the morning sun continued to filter through the windows, casting a warm glow over your family, you felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. In the gentle embrace of dawn's light, amidst the everyday hustle and bustle, there existed a profound beauty. It was in these simple, yet profound moments that the true essence of life revealed itself. Despite the challenges and the rapid passage of time, these moments of connection and love were what made everything worthwhile.

The morning rays illuminated the room, dancing playfully across the walls, and you couldn't help but marvel at the way they seemed to highlight the love that filled the space. Each tender glance, every shared smile, spoke volumes of the bonds that held your family together.

In these fleeting moments, as the world outside rushed by, time seemed to slow down, allowing you to savor the sweetness of the present. It was as if the universe had pressed pause, granting you a brief respite from the chaos of everyday life.

As you looked around at the faces of your loved ones, bathed in the golden light of morning, you realized that this, right here, was what it was all about. It was about cherishing the small moments, the quiet conversations, and the shared laughter. It was about finding beauty in the ordinary and love in the everyday.

And so, as the sun continued its journey across the sky, you held onto this feeling of gratitude, letting it wash over you like a gentle wave. For in these moments, surrounded by the warmth of your family, you knew that life was truly a gift worth treasuring.

Life could not get any better than this.

You couldn’t wait to see how it unfolds.

This morning will be a happy one again.

That you were never going to doubt.

YOU FEARED THAT BOTH OF YOU WEREN’T READY FOR THIS. A package arrived that morning from aunt Arisu and your mother. Satoru was confused, looking at his phone. He never ordered anything and even when he did, he would get a notification. He learned the hard way of not having a notification when he bought something and you were the one who saw it. He looked at you, shaking his head. You didn’t order either. You were a bit more suspicious with ordering online. Ever since your Mewtwo figurine arrived with discoloration, you were trying to be more careful. You shook your head at him just as much.

When you saw the letter from your mother, you instantly thought you knew what it was. She had been talking about how near Satoshi was with being able to eat solids. Last time you visited Mikoto manor in Kyoto, Satoshi was stealing her natto bowl. She had laughed it off, but now you realized that her laugh was pride for her grandson growing up. And now, both you and Satoru were sitting on the floor, surrounded by an array of baby food jars, each promising a different culinary adventure for your little one.

Sweet potatoes, peas, applesauce, and bananas were neatly lined up, each jar meticulously packaged one after another. You checked the bottom for the expiration dates. You don’t think Satoshi will be able to finish all of it. You don’t even think that Satoshi would like every flavor. He’s still drinking from your breast milk too. It was exciting, that’s for sure. But you were concerned about the fact that these will go to waste.

You held your son with one hand, his weight comfortably nestled against your hip, while the other hand deftly navigated through the array of baby food jars. It was a delicate balancing act, one that you had perfected through countless days of caring for Satoshi. As you carefully sifted through the jars, your fingers grazed over the smooth glass surfaces, each one holding the promise of a new taste sensation for your little one.

Despite the occasional wobble as Satoshi squirmed in your arms, you remained focused, determined to find the perfect combination of flavors to tantalize his taste buds. With each jar you picked up, you couldn't help but marvel at the thoughtfulness that went into creating these tiny culinary delights, each one meticulously crafted to nourish and delight your growing son.

As you finally settled on a few jars to try, you felt a sense of satisfaction wash over you. It wasn't just about feeding your son; it was about nourishing his curiosity, his sense of adventure, and his growing appetite for life. And as you looked down at Satoshi's eager face, you knew that this simple act of selecting baby food was just the beginning of a lifetime of shared experiences and cherished memories.

Satoru let out a small sigh, running a hand through his white hair as he looked at the jars.”I don’t even know where Arisu got all this.”

“Apparently, my mom and her managed to find all this from one of the windows we hired at the temple.” You say, sighing as you arrange the jars in a safe distance from your son. “And it worked well for her daughter’s baby. So mom and aunt Arisu thought this was going to be good for Satoshi too.”

"I can't believe he's already six months old." he said, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and melancholy. "It feels like just yesterday we were bringing him home from the hospital. And now, look at this. He’ll be eating this soon enough!”

You reached out, placing a comforting hand on his knee. "I know, Satoru. It feels like time is slipping through our fingers."

He gave you a small, wistful smile, his bright eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Remember when we finished the fifth-month photo album? I thought I'd be fine, but seeing how much he's grown...I couldn't help but cry."

You chuckled softly, squeezing his knee gently. "And now we're here, trying to figure out what our little boy's first solid food will be. It's a big milestone."

Satoru looked down at your son, who was busy gnawing on a soft toy, oblivious to the significance of the moment. "What do you think he'll like?" he asked, his voice soft and tender.

You glanced at the array of jars, considering each one. "Well, he seems to like sweet things. Maybe we should start with the applesauce?"

Satoru nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea. Applesauce it is." He reached for the jar, his fingers trembling slightly. "Do you want to do the honors, or should I?"

You smiled, seeing the emotion in his eyes. "Let's do it together."

Gently, you both lifted your son into his high chair, his curious eyes darting between the two of you and the jar of applesauce. You opened the jar, the sweet aroma filling the air, and dipped a tiny spoon into the puree.

Satoru held your son's hands, steadying him as you brought the spoon to his lips. Tentatively, your son opened his mouth, tasting the applesauce for the first time. His eyes widened in surprise, then crinkled in delight as he smacked his lips.

Both you and Satoru laughed, tears of joy streaming down your faces. "He likes it!" Satoru exclaimed, his voice breaking with emotion. "He really likes it!"

You nodded, feeling a swell of happiness in your chest. "He does. Our little boy is growing up so fast."

Satoru wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close as you both watched your son eagerly reach for the spoon, ready for another taste of his new favorite food. "I love you," Satoru whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"I love you too," you replied, resting your head on his shoulder. "And I love our little family."

As the three of you sat there, basking in the glow of this precious moment, you couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude wash over you. The soft light filtering through the windows cast a warm embrace over your little family, illuminating the joy and contentment that filled the room.

In that fleeting moment, surrounded by jars of baby food and the sound of Satoshi's delighted babbling, time seemed to stand still. It was as if the universe had conspired to create a perfect tableau, a snapshot of love and togetherness frozen in time.

As you looked at Satoru and then down at Satoshi, a wave of emotion threatened to overwhelm you. Here, in this simple moment, you found everything you had ever wanted—a loving partner, a beautiful child, and a sense of belonging that filled your heart to the brim.

You could have not seen this years ago.

But you were glad you didn’t then.

Because now, you were truly happy.

Beyond all words can truly be express.

ALL THAT PLAYING MADE SATOSHI TIRED. Megumi and Tsumiki excused themselves back to their rooms after spending some time in the living room. They said they had other things they needed to do. You didn’t question it that much, they always took time to play with Satoshi before they did their own things — so you let them go.

He was energetic for hours on end, very much on par with his father’s own energy. But after using all that energy playing with his father, your son started to get groggy. He started crying, getting hungry for milk. His contorted face looks exactly like your husband’s own face when he starts to get mopey when he wants his sweet snacks.

Your husband rolled his eyes playfully, when you pointed it out while breastfeeding him. Satoru then took him from you, to burp him and put him to bed. Your breasts were still full after that, so you had to pump all the rest into a bottle to be frozen later on. By that time, you were too drained of energy. You put the bottles away and your husband Satoru kissed you and thanked you, telling you to go get some rest. He was the one who was going to deal with lunch. He wants to take care of you, he said. And he meant it. With those words, you fell in love with him again. And so you laid down on the couch, trying to take some rest.

Once Satoshi was down for his nap, he put him in his crib. He kisses his cheek, telling him to have good dreams. When Satoru saw you next, you were asleep in the living room couch. He couldn’t help but want to place a kiss on your cheeks. His bright blue eyes were full of awe as you rested on the couch. His precious wife. You made everything in life easier, that was sure. You worked hard taking care of the kids, of your baby, of him. You deserved to rest, he loves to think. And now, he wants to take care of you.

Satoru checked the fridge, humming as he took a look at the food inside. He wanted to prepare something nutritious for everyone but especially something good for you. You were still breastfeeding Satoshi, so your health was paramount in his mind. When he saw the salmon, he knew he was going to make some delicious grilled salmon. He'd read that it helps with the pain in your breasts. He saw the miso, and he thought it would be perfect for marinating the salmon. You’d like it a lot. There was some seaweed in the fridge too, and he thought it would be great in a soup. With some tofu, shiitake mushrooms, and a bit of meat, it would be both hearty and enjoyable.

He moved efficiently around the kitchen, his movements practiced and precise. He marinated the salmon in miso, set it aside to soak in the flavors, and started on the soup. The kitchen filled with the rich aroma of shiitake mushrooms simmering, mingling with the subtle scent of seaweed. As he carefully grilled the salmon, he could hear you stirring awake in the bedroom.

You always had a keen sense of smell, and the scent of the grilled miso salmon must have reached you. He grinned as he heard you padding down the hallway, still a little groggy from sleep. You walked up to the kitchen, wrapping your arms around him from behind. "It smells so good, 'toru," you murmured, your voice thick with sleep.

He turned his head slightly to kiss your forehead, his heart swelling with affection. “I made something special for you. Thought it might help with the breastfeeding pain.”

You smiled against his back, pressing a light kiss there. “You’re too good to me.”

Satoru chuckled, a warm, deep sound that resonated through his chest. “Only the best for my favorite person in the world.” he teased gently, turning back to the stove to check on the soup. “The salmon’s almost done. Just a few more minutes.”

You stayed there for a moment, savoring the comfort of being close to him, before reluctantly pulling away to set the table. You were carefully putting each bowl and each utensil, the glasses. You could still feel the grogginess in your limbs, but the delicious smells and the thoughtfulness behind Satoru’s cooking filled you with a warm, contented feeling. Your husband was the best person you could ever ask for, you think. And now, you could only love him even more.

As you finished setting the table, Satoru plated the food, arranging the grilled salmon and bowls of steaming soup with care. “Lunch is served, my darling.” he announced with a flourish, making you laugh. “Come on, you awake now?”

You both sat down, and he watched with satisfaction as you took your first bite of the salmon. “It’s amazing,” you said, your eyes lighting up. “You outdid yourself, Satoru.”

He smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “I’m glad you like it.”

“We should call the kids so they can eat with us.” He stands up.

“I’ll come with you, so that we can eat together.” You follow him.

He hands you his own hand. “Well, take my hands.”

You look at him, blinking. “Why?”

“Because holding hands makes everything good.” He grins at you.

You giggled, intertwining his hand with your own. “Yeah, yeah, you’re so corny.”

“Hey! I’m just a man in love!”

The house was relatively a normal house, but it was quite spacious. It was obvious that Satoru spent some money finding a house which would fit all of your comforts. Megumi and Tsumiki’s room was on the other side of the second floor, just a few doors away from your own bedroom and just a little bit further from the nursery. You and Satoru quietly made your way through the house, you both humming a song stuck in his head. And now that he had hummed it long enough, you learned it and hummed with you too.

The house was interestingly silent, but it wasn’t unusual. At times, Megumi was just reading a book he had taken home from the library. And Tsumiki would be too busy finishing her drawings with her windowpane. The silence was always comforting in the Gojo household. It was like being wrapped around you like a warm blanket. However, as you got nearer the kids’ rooms, the tranquility was soon interrupted by faint, muffled voices. You were pretty sure that it came from Megumi’s room.

You exchanged a curious glance with Satoru before heading toward the source of the commotion. Your face furrows. Megumi and Tsumiki rarely fight. If they were fighting, it must be serious. You pulled Satoru towards Megumi’s door. Standing outside Megumi's door, you could hear the sounds of a hushed argument even more clearer now.

"Shhh, Megumi, calm down! you’ll wake Satoshi!” Tsumiki whispered urgently.

“We have to do it right!” Megumi retorted in a low voice, clearly frustrated. “No, no, don’t add that!”

“But it makes it even more lively–”

“It makes it messy!”

Satoru looked at you and you nodded at your husband. You and Satoru knocked gently on the door. But there was no response. Almost instantly, the room fell silent. You looked at your husband again, now confused. After a moment, Fushiguro Tsumiki opened the door ever so slightly, a nervous smile on her face.

“What’s going on here?” Satoru’s eyes trying to check inside the room. You were pretty sure that he was trying to check with his six-eyes, if there was something wrong.. “You kids are getting lively, huh?”

Tsumiki opened the door even more and Megumi and herexchanged quick glances. You and Satoru entered a bit by the doorway before Tsumiki spoke up. “We… um, we were working on something.” She stepped aside, moving to the side as though she was hiding something. “Just for school, you know… like usual.”

Satoru raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by their attempt at secrecy. "School projects on a Sunday? Sounds serious."

“If you had projects, you could have told us, ‘miki.” You told her, patting her head. “You don’t have to do them alone.”

“N-no, it's fine. It’s nothing really.”

“Hm, you sure, ‘miki?” Your husband reinforced, then looked at Megumi. “‘bout you, ‘gumi? You okay there?”

Tsumiki's nervous smile widened as she tried to maintain her composure. “Yeah, it’s just a little project. Nothing big.”

But your curiosity was piqued. “Can we see what you’re working on?” you asked gently, trying not to pressure them too much. “If that’s okay with you.”

Megumi and Tsumiki looked at each other.

Tsumiki’s fingers were entangled like spider webs.

Megumi looked down at the edge of his cold feet.

You and Satoru knew those little tells very well.

But you wanted them to tell you about it honestly.

Megumi purses his lips before he lets out a sigh. realizing they couldn’t keep the secret any longer. He stepped forward, his own hands now fidgeting slightly. “Okay, but… it’s not just for school,” he admitted. “It’s….something else.”

Your husband’s dark glasses lowered, lips smiling. “Oh? And what is it, hm? Don’t worry, we won’t judge. If it’s fixable, it's nothing. If it isn’t, it's okay too. As long as you both are alright, okay? Besides, you guys must be hungry. We’ll eat after, okay?”

Megumi and Tsumiki looked at both of you.

They both slowly nodded at your husband.

He smiles at them, patting their heads.

“Okay so, what is it all about, kiddos?”

Tsumiki took a deep breath, her eyes shining with a mix of excitement and nerves. Her hands are still fidgeting together. “We were making something special. It’s nothing much….but….my friend at school, she’s Korean, and she told me about this holiday they have called Parents’ Day. It’s a day to appreciate your parents, and I thought it was really nice. To…..So…..I convinced Megumi to help me make something for you guys.”

Megumi nodded, still looking a bit uncomfortable. He rubs the back of his neck, feeling his face slightly turning red. “We never really knew our parents long enough to call them that, parents.” he said quietly. “But you and Gojo–san… you’re all we have. The closest thing to parents we’ve got.”

Tsumiki picked up a small, handmade scrapbook from Megumi’s desk and handed it to you. “We wanted to do something special for you both. To show you how much you mean to us.”

Your heart swelled with emotion as you took a look at the scrapbook in Tsumiki’s hands. Satoru, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, put a hand on Megumi’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. As you accepted the scrapbook from Tsumiki's outstretched hands, you felt a rush of nostalgia wash over you.

Opening the scrapbook, the weight of the memories contained within the pages was palpable, each photo and memento a testament to the bonds of friendship and the shared experiences they had all treasured. Satoru's silent gesture spoke volumes, his cerulean eyes shimmering with unshed tears that mirrored the emotions swirling within Hiromi's own heart. The gentle pressure of his hand on Megumi's shoulder, squeezing it as though to thank him for this little gift.

In that fleeting moment, as you held the scrapbook in your hands, you felt a profound sense of gratitude.. Their unwavering support and understanding had been a source of strength during the darkest moments of your journey, and now, as you reminisced about the past, it served as a beacon of hope for the future. Nothing else mattered, but the wonder of the future. Because they were here with you. Megumi and Tsumiki, and now Satoshi — all three were truly yours and Satoru’s world.

With tears glistening in your eyes, you turned to Tsumiki, your voice choked with emotion. "Thank you," you whispered, "For this, and for everything. ‘miki, you and Megumi are our world, hm? Never forget that.”

Tsumiki's smile was gentle and reassuring, her eyes reflecting the same depth of emotion that permeated the room. "Thank you for loving us, me and Megumi." she replied softly, her voice a soothing melody in the stillness.

“Oh ‘miki, you don’t have to thank us for that.” Satoru whispered, pulling Megumi closer to him. Megumi looked like he was going to lose it. But he didn’t push Satoru away. He just let him pull him closer. “This is…this is just….”

Opening the first page, you saw Megumi and Tsumiki's handwriting: “Happy Parents' Day. Thank you for choosing us. We may not be your kids by blood, but we’re happy that you still chose to love us. We love you. Tsumiki and Megumi.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you read the heartfelt message. You looked at Satoru, who was equally moved, then back at Megumi and Tsumiki. “This is… this is the most beautiful gift we’ve ever received, you both.” you said, your voice choked with emotion. “Thank you so much.”

Satoru knelt down, pulling both kids into a tight hug. “You two are our family,” he said, his voice thick with tears. “We love you more than anything.”

You joined the embrace, wrapping your arms around all two of them. “Thank you,” you whispered. “For being the best children we could ever ask for. You both and Satoshi, you’re our world okay?”

Megumi and Tsumiki nodded, their eyes shining with tears of their own. "We love you too," Megumi murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tsumiki nodded in agreement, her voice soft yet filled with conviction. "You're the best parents we could ever have."

You cried for a while, just embracing each other. The lunch got cold, that was certain. But you could always heat it up again. This moment, this is what mattered. Time may be slipping from your fingers all the time, but you could live in these moments forever, you know that.

Wrapped in each other's arms, you felt the weight of the world lift, replaced by the comfort of love and understanding. It didn't matter that the food grew cold or that the outside world continued to spin on its axis. In this moment, with Satoru's arms around you, with Megumi and Tsumiki’s warmth on you, Satoshi’s warm small hands on your own — you knew that you will live on happily. You could survive anything, if you have them. You could live in their solace.

As tears slowly dried on your cheeks, you knew that life was a series of fleeting moments, but it was these moments of connection and intimacy that made it all worthwhile. You held onto Satoru and the kids a little tighter, grateful for the love that anchored you in a world that often felt uncertain. You will be alright, that was for sure.

Everything will be alright, you knew that well enough.

You couldn’t wait to see what could be in the future.

You couldn’t wait to grow old with the love of your life.

You couldn’t wait to see your kids grow up happily.

epilogue

november, 2018;

Fushiguro Megumi stood at the gates of Jujutsu High, his heart heavy with the weight of recent events. Shibuya had left its mark on him, both physically and emotionally, and now he found himself back at the place where it all began. But now there are other worries, other concerns that need him. He didn’t come and see you, because he knew you would forbid him from being in danger. And he can’t stop himself. He had to do what he could. Now, more than ever.

His purpose for coming back here, even though it was dangerous, was clear—to retrieve some of his belongings before disappearing into hiding. Before he finds Itadori, he had to get some things here, ones that were needed for survival.

With determined steps, he made his way to Gojo–sensei’s office, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The door creaked open, revealing a room frozen in time—a testament to the chaos that had engulfed their world.

His blue-green eyes fell upon the photo album, sitting on Gojo–sensei’s desk, untouched since that day, since October 31st. He purses his lips as he thinks about it. Should he go? He tried to stop himself, but he knew he couldn’t. He missed him. Megumi knew he did. But he didn’t want to say it out loud.

Because it wouldn’t be easy. He wouldn’t be able to move forward with what had to be done. Still, he needed some comfort. He needed some relief. To know what it was like to have known that man, that man who had raised him.

Megumi approached the room slowly, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. He gulped, his throat tight with emotion, before twisting the door open. Gojo-sensei's room stood before him, a sanctuary untouched by the chaos that had engulfed the rest of the world.

The air was heavy with the scent of incense, mingling with the faint aroma of coffee—a comforting presence that wrapped around Megumi like a warm embrace. He stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room, taking in every detail—the neatly arranged shelves, the piles of books stacked haphazardly on the desk, the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the curtains.

Gojo-sensei never really locked his room. Because people knew not to go in. It was only for him, this sanctuary. Not even the higher-ups had the courage to intrude upon his private space. Not even when they had attacked Jujutsu High awhile ago. And so since then, since he had been taken by others from Megumi, from the world that adored him —Gojo Satoru’s office had no occupants.

Megum took small careful strides as hei moved forward, careful not to alert anyone of his presence in the premises. He pauses for a moment. He sighed as he let his hand reach out to touch the smooth surface of the desk. And there, nestled among a stack of papers, paperwork that man refused to ever do without you, Megumi found it—the scrapbook he and Tsumiki had given you and Gojo–sensei all those years ago.

As he gingerly lifted the scrapbook from its place, a rush of memories flooded his mind. He remembered the countless hours spent carefully selecting photos, writing heartfelt messages, and crafting each page with love and care. It had been a labor of love from him and Tsumiki, to you and Gojo–sensei.

As he flipped through the pages, the images leaped out at him like ghosts from another worldly plane—smiling faces frozen in time, laughter echoing through the halls of that house, moments of triumph and joy captured forever in glossy photographs. Each page told a story, a snapshot of their journey together, and as Fushiguro Megumi traced his fingers over the familiar images, he couldn't help but feel a swell of emotion in his chest.

It was a reminder of the family they had built years ago, in a home that was filled with tenderness—a bond forged not by blood, but by shared experiences, shared hardships, and shared dreams. And as Megumi held the scrapbook in his hands, he knew that no matter where life took him, these memories would always be his anchor, grounding him.

With a sense of reverence, he tucked the scrapbook under his arm, knowing that it was all he could have of his family right now. And as he left Gojo-sensei's room behind him, he knew whatever was going to come was not going to be easy. But he had this. Until you all met again, this would be enough. Until he had his family again, he wouldn't stop at nothing. He won’t let those people, those evil people, rob him of his family ever again.

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weirdkpopgirl · 5 months

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Adoration | Mark Imagine #7

Title: Adoration

Genre: Tooth-rotting fluff

Warnings: none really :)

Word Count: 612

Author's Note: Lol this idea came to me after seeing a clip of Mark on a video call fansign, where he was telling the fan that he's currently watching Queen of Tears. This made me so happy because I've also been watching the drama and feel so passionately about it. Anyway my mind started to wander and this little scenario came out of it. I tried my best not to include spoilers of the show in the story though. Thank you for reading and hope you like it ^ ^

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Frustration brewed in your eyes, as heat rose to your cheeks, while your heart was pounding. Your fingers curled further into your palms, as unkind words traveled to the tip of your tongue. Yet, before they could be vocalized, the dark-haired man on your left said them instead.

“No, but why did he do that though?!” Mark yelled, throwing his arm out in a gesture to the screen.

A part of you wanted to laugh at your boyfriend’s reaction to the final scene playing out on the television before you. Since the premiere of Queen of Tears, you and Mark have been avidly following the series together. However, you were a few episodes behind due to Mark’s busy schedule and your commitment to watching it together. It took considerable restraint to avoid looking at spoilers on Instagram or YouTube.

On the other hand, the equal measure of anger within you overpowered any sense of amusement. A louder-than-intended sigh slipped past your lips.

“Ugh, I hate Yoon Eunsung so much for trying to ruin Haein’s family,” you fumed, gripping the remote. “I swear, I just knew he was going to use that tactic to sabotage them too!”

Mark leaned back on the couch, echoing your dissatisfaction. “I know right? You were so on point though with predicting that it was gonna happen.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean I’m happy that I was right!” you exclaimed, sounding as if you were almost about to cry from annoyance.

Any hint of exasperation Mark was feeling simmered down, as you continued to vent about the episode. Now that he observed you passionately recounting every prediction you made about the characters’ actions that had had occurred in the episode. Your hair was slightly tousled, and your hands gestured animatedly, emphasizing your frustrations. This was a rare sight from someone who was usually so composed and reserved.

Your shoulders slumped when you caught the distraction in his eyes, prompting a look of confusion from you. “Mark, are you even listening to what I’m saying?”

“No, I am babe,” he reassured with a chuckle. “I’ve just never seen you this fired up before.”

Your expression softened, and the flush on your cheeks transitioned to one of embarrassment. His comment brought to mind your tendency to get overly passionate about certain things that provoked you.

“Sorry, I just got so worked up,” you mumbled, sheepishly brushing a loose lock of hair out of your face.

However, Mark was quick to pull you into his arms. “Don’t apologize, I think it’s endearing.”

His embrace was so warm and loving, it felt like he was wrapping you in all the adoration he had for you. Yet, it made you just want to hide your face in his hoodie because you were still flustered.

“Well I’m grateful you’re more reassuring than Baek Hyunwoo is,” you said, resting your chin on his shoulder. “Seriously, I’ve never seen so much miscommunication in a relationship before.”

You felt your boyfriend smile, pulling back slightly to stroke your hair. “And I’m glad you’re not as closed off like Hong Haein.”

“Hey, she has every right to be—” you started to protest, before catching yourself.

Mark nearly convulsed with laughter as he crashed you into another hug. “Ah, cute!”

Feeling embarrassed once more, you lightly smacked his shoulder, though it did nothing to stop the boy from gushing over you. But you couldn’t help but smile too, finding warmth in the moment. Both of you knew that the upcoming episodes of this drama would only bring more stress. However, at least you could share your frustrations openly, while all Mark could think about was how infatuated he was with you.

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previous masterlist -> current masterlist

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theroyalsims · 2 months

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ROYAL WEDDING: GUS AND QUEEN, PRINCE JACQUES WILL SPLIT THE WEDDING BILL - PUBLIC WON'T SPEND A PENNY

Days after rumours started circulating online that Anya has commissioned a new tiara and FIVE couture dresses for her wedding, the Palace sidesteps the issue by releasing an unprecedented statement earlier today.

The brief announcement reads:

"The Crown Princess and Mr. Aslan, with the consent of Her Majesty The Queen and His Royal Highness Prince Jacques, wish to inform the public that the matter of settling the costs of the upcoming royal wedding will be conducted in a way that will honour both Brindleton and Ekhkare traditions.

In that regard, all wedding costs will be shouldered privately by Her Majesty and His Royal Highness, as well as Mr. Aslan."

The brief but very clear statement is said to be an indirect response to the earlier rumours concerning Anya's would-be wedding outfit/s.

A royal expert weighs in:

"This is a very tactful way of handling the brewing controversy concerning just how extravagant this wedding will be. Our royals may be well-loved, but still, there's a significant number of people who would do anything to criticise the royal family. This is nipping it in the bud, all while adhering to the narrative of 'respecting tradition.' Basically, in normal people speak, this is the Royals saying - 'don't worry, you're not shelling out a single Penny. We're paying, so shut up, back off, and let Anya and Gus enjoy their big day.' Hopefully, this will silence the naysayers."

While it's customary in Brindleton that the brides' family will pay for the wedding, in Ekhkare, the reverse is true - it's the groom's family who foots the wedding bills. Gus, although born in Rennaux, has a Tartosan mother and an Ekhkarean father.

The expert adds:

"The royal wedding is a state occasion, since Anya is heir to the throne. Usually, state occasions are shouldered by the state, the public. But perhaps in an attempt to appease everyone and to not encourage more drama and controversy, the royals were cornered into saying something."

But it's apparently not a big deal for The Queen, Prince Jacques, and Gus. The Queen, in her own right, has a massive fortune which includes castles, palaces, estates and at least two whole villages that she privately owns as part of her inheritance from her late father. Similarly, Prince Jacques also got a bucketload of cash and properties when from his parents, the late King and Queen of Rennaux. As for Gus, he's not really hard up on cash either, and he can very well pay for the whole wedding himself if he wanted to.

The royal wedding, apart from not taking money from the public, is actually expected to rake in at least a billion Simoleons for the Brindleton economy. Immediately after the engagement was announced, hotels started filling up and flights to Brindleton on the days leading up to the wedding have become quite the commodity. Locally, Anya and Gus' photos are everywhere and royal wedding memorabilia are selling like hotcakes.

Here's hoping that this settles all that nasty crap about how "extravagant" this wedding will be. Of course it'll be extravagant. She's the future Queen, and it IS a "Royal" wedding. What did you expect? That the bride will be wearing a §30 frock from high street?That they'll have a standing buffet and a salad bar at the reception?

Anyway, back to that rumoured new tiara and FIVE gorgeous dresses...

#ts4 #sims 4 #ts4 simblr #simblr #royal simblr #ts4 royal simblr #theroyalsims #ts4 royals #ts4 royalty #ts4 royal family #ts4 royal #ts4 royal legacy #ts4 royal story #mystory #anya #gus #royal wedding

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yourdarkcherry · 8 months

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Seducing Rafe Cameron || Ch.2

Summary: You were blessed with an easy life since you were born, but it’s all threatened when your dad’s business fails and you find yourself with no prospects and no education and so your only solution is to marry rich. Who’s a better candidate than the older brother of your ex-best friend from high school? So you do everything in your power to seduce Rafe Cameron, not knowing he’s the root to all your problems.

Warnings: toxic relationship, spoiled reader, sexist elements, dark content, blackcoded reader, pregnancy, physical and emotional abuse, manipulation, gaslighting, death threats, eventual smut.

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Divider by: @/cafekitsune

Rafe didn’t give you any instructions on where to meet him for Wheezie’s driving lesson, or when it’s supposed to happen. So you spend most of your afternoon and evening glancing outside the window by the foyer.

If your mom notices your glances, then she doesn’t speak.

It’s when you’re preparing your dad’s usual evening coffee that you hear knocks on the door, your heart starts accelerating at the prospect of Rafe and Wheezie being behind that door. You almost want to run to the door, but you pretend to be all calm and collected as you’re pouring the freshly brewed coffee in your dad’s favorite mug.

“Rafe, and Louisa, it’s nice seeing you,” you catch your father’s greeting from your spot in the kitchen, your heart feels light.

You decide to take a moment to compose yourself before joining the gathering in the foyer. As you walk toward the doorway, you overhear Rafe responding to your father's greeting with polite pleasantries, you could also hear Wheezie laughing here and there, also answering some questions.

Before you exit, you stare at your reflection one last time in the mirror by the corridor, when you like what you see you smile and join them.

Your eyes catch Rafe’s blue irises first, “Hey there,” he greets, and you reciprocate with a smile of your own.

“Hi, Rafe, and Wheezie,” you say, tilting your head to stare at her, and directing your attention to his younger sister. Wheezie's eyes light up, and she gives you a sweet grin, “I just hope you’re ready for some driving action, because we have a whole plan ahead of us,” walking outside your home, Rafe followed her and you followed suit.

You stare between her and Rafe with a curious stare, but still thrilled at the prospect of spending some time with them both.

“I was born ready,” you answer, making Wheezie laugh as she heads to the driver’s seat in her tiny red mini cooper.

Truth to be said, after your massive drama with Sarah you avoided her family naturally too. Not because you didn’t like them, but every time you saw them you’d just be reminded of the pain you went through. So it still felt strange that despite you having those pent up thoughts about them, and distancing yourself that they still thought positively of you, you couldn’t help but feel guilt-ridden.

Before you could reach for the door handle for the backseats, Rafe was quicker and opened the door for you instead. You smiled at him, tucking your hair behind your ear as you thanked him clearly, “Thanks, Rafe.”

“You’re welcome,” he responded, watching you get in and then he shut the door before he rounded the car to claim the passenger seat.

“Is this your car?” you asked Wheezie who was busy checking her mirrors, she let out an affirming hum, “it is, Rafe managed to convince dad to buy me my first car before getting my license so I’m more prone to be careful while driving,” she answered, and Rafe affirmed as he took his seat, “I was right, you’re much more careful driving in your car than anyone else’s, how many times did you crash my car?” he glanced at you when you laughed.

Wheezie exhaled dramatically, “accidents like this are supposed to happen, I’m a beginner!”

“So, what’s on today’s agenda?” you asked, buckling in yourself in the middle seat of the seats in the back.

Wheezie already started driving as she answered, “Rafe thinks it’s better to practice in real streets than in the practice driving range, and I was thinking that we should stop at the Milkshake Palace and then head to the beach, and then we could stop at the mall and I could flaunt to you my amazing parking skills.”

You giggled, “I will only be impressed if you manage to parallel park,”

“Hey, you’re asking for the impossible, let’s just hope she even manages to get out of Figure 8 safely,” Rafe commented, glancing at you several times and then stopping when Wheezie took her right hand off the steering wheel to swat him.

“He’s exaggerating, and don’t be an ass, Rafe. Or I will be banning you to the backseats and making (Y/N) teach me how to drive.” Wheezie replied with a playful glare, you raised your hands defensively, “I really don’t think you should ask me, I’m not the best at that, I only recently learned how to parallel park.”

Rafe and Wheezie both laughed at your words. As the car smoothly navigated through the familiar streets, you couldn't help but appreciate the pleasant atmosphere that only continued to flourish between you three.

You have missed Wheezie, and Rafe too. You didn’t interact much with the latter because of his tense relationship with Sarah back then, and now too, but you were just fine with him. You couldn’t help but wonder how your current life would be if Sarah was still in it, if she’d never slept with your boyfriend in high school.

Well, for starters she would be the one teaching Wheezie how to drive, she’d be the one to accompany you in midsummers and to make you laugh, and she’d be the one you would tell about your father’s failing business and she’d allow you to cry about it as much as you wanted without complaining once.

While the prospect of a romantic relationship with Rafe would be out of question because you’ve always been so loyal to Sarah, you couldn’t help but be a little thankful that the friendship ended way before your father’s bankruptcy.

“Right, I haven’t heard much of you (Y/N), what are you doing lately?” Wheezie asked, lowering the volume of the music.

“Not much, if I’m honest, I have been dabbling in pilates classes and some photography classes too, and I’m learning how to cook, but other than that I’m just shopping at the mall.” You answered honestly, even though the last part you haven’t done since you’ve learned of the regress of your dad’s business.

Wheezie hummed, then you could see her widening smile from the reflection of the rear-view mirror, and you just knew in your core that Wheezie was going to ask a very personal question. But how bad could it be? Nothing could be horrible, and your only secret you had to protect would be your family’s bankruptcy.

“So, any lucky secret man?” you laughed at her question, and as much as you wanted to look at Rafe to observe his reaction, you couldn’t not when you felt his intense stare at you. Despite him being in the front seat, he looked way too much at you, and tilted his head a lot to the back.

You couldn’t calm your thrilled heart, he had to be at least interested in you if he kept looking at you like this, you hoped this would at least be the case.

“Nope, why, you got one?” you wondered, now glancing at Rafe when he looked away.

His expression was unreadable, and the smile on his lips was tense. You hoped it was jealousy, or something that meant he had to be interested in you even for a little bit.

He didn’t have to be so interested in you to ask you to marry him, you just had to be around and he had to think that you fit the perfect stereotype of the typical housewife in Figure 8. You would say you were like the rest of them, you knew a lot of rich housewives that were like you in their youth.

They too had useless certificates, you already got yours in hospitality and never looked back at it since you graduated. You only had one just to say you got some form of education so you were smart but not too smart to scare rich men away.

“I don’t, the boys I like don’t like me and the boys I don’t like don’t like me either,” she said, letting out a sigh and finally pulling up to the phosphorescent sign of the Milkshake Palace.

“All Highschool boys are stupid and immature, I’m sure you’ll find your person after graduation.” You reassured, and she hummed thoughtfully, then you scooted to the edge of your seat, resting your head on the shoulder of Rafe’s seat, “what about you? Any lucky secret girl we don’t know about?”

He seemed stunned as he looked at you, surprised at your proximity, then his gaze dropped just slightly and you didn’t have to be a psychic to know he definitely stared at your cleavage.

“Uhm, no, no one.” he continued to look at you even when you backed to your seat.

The atmosphere shifted slightly after your question. Rafe’s eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he faced the front, as Wheezie steered the car into a parking spot. She failed to park correctly a few times, but that didn’t drown her excitement when you all exited the car and walked to the building.

“It’s been so long since I came here, I think the last time I came to this branch I was still in high school.” you commented, analyzing the slight changes in the building, and liking how the neon lights looked against the night sky.

“Really? Rafe and I come here at least three times a week,” Wheezie said.

You looked at the blond, “I think you were the one that showed me this spot back in highschool,” you recalled.

“I did?” he asked, and you nodded, “yeah, I remember you drove us and Sarah to the mall but you were so angry that the mall didn’t have a Milkshake Palace branch at the mall, so you took us here instead after you picked us up.”

Wheezie laughed, as Rafe stared at you with faux confusion, “no way, I don’t remember me being that angry about something so trivial,” you nudged him with your elbow, “well, I remember and I will never let you live it down, ever.”

Rafe chuckled, a genuine smile breaking through the tension that lingered from your earlier question. As you entered the Milkshake Palace, the nostalgic atmosphere mixed with the sweet aroma of milkshakes filled the air and slapped you harshly in your cheek, all you could think of was you and Sarah entering this place, arms linked and laughing.

You purposely kicked out these thoughts, and paid attention to the siblings ahead of you. The three of you found a cozy booth towards the back, surrounded by neon signs and the low hum of conversations.

Wheezie slid first inside the booth, you sat next to her and Rafe opposite you. Rafe handed you the menu, despite the two knowing exactly what they’re going to order. You shrugged your shoulders and pushed it back to him, “Why don’t you choose for me? I want to know the hype you make about this place.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming on his lips. “You’re putting your milkshake fate in my hands? Bold move.”

You nodded with a grin, “Absolutely. I trust you, Rafe. Impress me with your milkshake selection skills.” Wheezie chimed in, her eyes sparkling with amusement, “I have to see this, Rafe. Make it unforgettable.”

Rafe pretended to ponder for a moment, scanning the menu with exaggerated seriousness. Then he nodded and stood up, “Alright, brace yourselves. I’m going to introduce you to the best Milkshake Palace masterpieces.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, then you hid your laugh behind your palm as you and Wheezie stared at each other when Rafe walked away.

“Look at him, he looks so serious, all because we entrusted him to select some silly milkshakes for us.” Wheezie comments in a slightly loud whisper, making you laugh harder and hold onto her shoulder to stabilize yourself.

She smiles at you when your laughter dies, “I’m so happy we get to hang out again like back then,” she comments, and the guilt you felt earlier returns horribly. Especially with how genuine she looks.

“I’m happy too, I missed hanging out with you.” You respond sincerely.

Wheezie’s eyes softened, and she nudged you gently, “I understand you and Sarah had a big fight, she didn’t tell me lots of details but she told me she wronged you months after everything.”

“It was just some stupid high school drama, I’m completely over it now. But how is she? Do you speak to her?” you asked.

You didn’t know much about the Camerons after your falling out with Sarah, but you knew that after high school she started seeing a man from The Cut for years secretly, apparently he used to work for her father, and around last year she started living with him when Ward found out.

“I haven’t talked to her in months, dad is still really upset. Once she tried to visit with that man and he kicked her out, and since then he forbade all of us from talking to her.” She answered, looking at her intertwined fingers.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Wheezie. I had no idea things had gotten so complicated for Sarah,” you replied, genuine sympathy in your voice. Then you reached to hold her intertwined hands, and squeezed them gently, “It must’ve been tough for you dealing with all this mess, but I want you to know that I’m here for you,”

She smiled appreciatively, and you knew she wouldn’t take your last offer seriously and would think you were simply being polite, but you were stubborn. “Seriously, I will be there for you, if you need anything just call me and I will be there.” You said, for her sake, as you missed Wheezie and wanted to be there for her like an older sister and you knew Ward would never allow her to contact Sarah ever.

You took her phone, and dialed your phone number and when you felt your phone vibrate in your purse you ended the call, “Here, you have my number so if you need anything at any time, you know what to do.”

Her smile widened, and her stare at you turned slightly wet, so you didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm over her shoulder to bring her in a sideways hug, “I know I have already said it, but I’m really glad we reconnected again.” She said with a quivering voice, and quickly wiping away her tears under her glasses.

The harsh pang of guilt comes again to attack you, and you think back to how you behaved back then.

Did you really have to distance yourself from Wheezie who you have alway thought of as your younger sister, all because of Sarah? Did you even have to stop being friends with Sarah? Surely even after everything and all this time, you still miss her a lot and you think of her a lot.

You’re not angry that she slept with your ex-boyfriend, you're just angry that she didn’t care enough about you to not do it, or to hide it all this time.

When Wheezie completely wipes her tears away, Rafe returns, and distributes three very different looking milkshakes to each of you.

“I just guessed what you two would like,” Rafe said, handing you a pink milkshake. You thanked him, and took it and popped the lid with the straw.

“I just hope it doesn’t have mint chocolate,” Wheezie muttered, taking her light colored milkshake from him, and doing the same exact thing as you. She comments when she takes her first sip, “It’s actually good, I didn’t expect you to have good taste honestly.”

“What were you two talking about?” Rafe questioned, noting Wheezie’s red eyes and nose. She stiffened next to you, and you didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out the subject of Sarah was a pretty sensitive topic for Rafe. So, you shrugged your shoulders and lied, “just girl talk.”

She nodded, looking at you with a sheepish smile, “we were just talking about a suitable time for a girl’s day.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, studying the both of you suspiciously, not buying your lie whatsoever, but he decided not to press further. Instead, he grabbed a seat, placing himself across from you two, and took a sip of his own milkshake.

“Girl’s day, huh? Sounds like fun,” he remarked, shooting a glance your way. You simply nodded in agreement. Wheezie, who’s eager to steer the conversation away from the sensitive territory, said, “we could go to the movies, or oh oh! We could go shopping! I need new clothes for school anyways.”

You matched her eagerness with a thrilled smile of your own, “Absolutely, and we could get our nails done!” you displayed your fingers to her and wiggled them playfully. She nodded as her smile widened, “oh okay okay, what time suits you?”

“I’m available the whole day the day after tomorrow, is it okay with you?” You suggested.

She nodded excitedly with a big smile on her face, you mirrored it and giggled when she started pre-planning your activities.

Your conversation smoothed easily the whole drive to the beach, and even at the beach where you played a messy game of chasing each other, and even going as far as splashing each other—to be frank you didn’t start it, but joined it in revenge as the duo ganged up on you.

When Wheezie parked her car at Tannyhill, she quickly gasped when her eyes fell on the clock at her dashboard.

“I completely forgot Claire is sleeping over!” she yelled, then she held your hand and squeezed it, “I’m sorry but my friend is coming over in like five minutes, and I didn’t prepare anything!” you laughed, shook your head as you reassured her, “don’t worry, you go first,”

She hugged you goodbye quickly, and then dashed with a hasty wave into her house.

You turned to face Rafe, stunned to find him already staring at you. With a small smile he said, “let me walk you home.”

You agreed with a nod and walked alongside him towards your home. It was already dark when they picked you up, and when you arrived at Tannyhill it was three hours after. There is still an appropriate time for a debriefing session with your mother if you wish while you help her with dinner.

“Thanks for tonight. It was unexpected but fun,” you expressed, looking up at him with sincere appreciation in your eyes.

He shook his head, “You’re always welcome, you’re like…” he trailed off and you hoped to all the power in this universe that he wouldn’t say you’re like a sister to him.

“The best person to have around,” he said, you had to physically restrain yourself from sighing in relief.

“I’m just glad Wheezie has someone to look up to after…you know…” Sarah’s name flashed inside your head at his insinuation. “She needs an older sister figure, someone to guide her and to be there for her. I try to be there for her but it’s just not the same,” You nodded in agreement at his words.

“You’re right,” you said, knowing just how much men loved being told they’re right, and partially because he was actually right in his judgment. “Especially at her age, I didn’t have anyone so I made some stupid mistakes I knew I wouldn’t make if I had an older sister’s guidance.”

Rafe tilted his head to you with surprise, narrowed his gaze and commented, “You didn’t make any stupid mistakes,” then he quickly added in an exaggerated whisper, “at least ones that I knew of.”

You laughed, “first thank you for saying that, but trust me, I have had my fair share of stupid mistakes too.”

“Like what?” he demanded, you avoided his stare as his smile widened. You hoped you at least looked cute enough for him to keep you around.

“Now why would I tell you about my stupid mistakes?” you said with a faux scandalized stare, hand on your chest.

“Can’t you just tell me because I want to know?” he responds.

You smirked playfully, enjoying the banter. “Well, let’s just say my teenage years were full of questionable fashion choices and a series of not-so-impressive crushes. Nothing too fun, unfortunately for you.”

Rafe chuckled, “Fashion choices, huh? Now I'm curious.”

“Maybe one day, I'll show you some embarrassing photos,” you teased, making a mental note to keep those hidden forever.

You could see your house getting closer and closer, and just like the years after your falling out with Sarah you cursed that your house was relatively close to hers. Only this time you cursed that fact, because if it was further than you’d get to speak to Rafe more.

At that wish you could almost hear your mother tutting and telling you that a woman needed to keep her mystery for a man to keep having an interest in her. You wanted Rafe to be interested in you, and so after cursing that fact you thanked it in your head.

He had to have interest, even if it was mild then it was good because most rich married men in your social circle didn’t have that much of an interest in their wives.

As you approached your house, the atmosphere lightened, and Rafe’s eyes held a warmth that didn’t go unnoticed and set a swarm of butterflies in your core. You had to kick out that feeling. You shouldn’t harbor a crush for Rafe, or god forbid fall in love with him.

All for the possibility that he might lose interest completely, and ice you out if you weren’t his cup of tea and thought some other girl was more of a wife material than you. It happened before, you’ve seen it before and you knew you might be a victim of such a scenario as well.

If he did that, then you wanted it to be easy for you to move on and seduce some other unsuspecting rich man. Perhaps his friend Kelce, you heard he will inherit his father’s country club. Or perhaps Topper, maybe he’s over Sarah and you were just speaking way too soon. He is such a Mama’s boy though, and while that was not good in general you could still wow his mother to pair him with you.

Cynthia was hard to please, but you were determined.

As you looked over your family’s property. Your determination to keep all of it intact grew stronger. You would do the impossible to keep all of it, and ensure that your parents never have to step foot at The Cut.

“So, am I going to see you tomorrow morning?” he asked, you couldn’t miss the hopeful glint he had in his ocean blue eyes. Were they always that blue? You wondered.

Grinning, you answered, “I don’t know, I guess you have to ask my alarm.” He laughed at your response, before he could speak you added, “I might, I have pilates at ten, and I have to run a few errands after so I have to be in a productive mentality to get everything done.”

“Then you’re going to be finished at twelve?” he asks.

You’re confused at his question, but you nod your head nonetheless.

He nodded with a thoughtful expression, “Great. How about we grab lunch after your errands?”

Your heart fluttered as if spring blossomed at the pits of your heart, tickling your insides and pulling at heartstrings you thought had died after everything. “Sure, that sounds good.”

As you reached your doorstep, you turned to face him. “Thanks again for tonight, Rafe. It was really fun.”

He smiled, his eyes holding a warmth that lingered. “Anytime. I'll see you tomorrow morning, and hopefully for lunch too.”

You twisted the door knob, pushed it and looked back at him to find him waiting for you to get inside.

You thought gentlemen like this died, but it seemed as the perfect example spawned before your eyes with blond hair and gorgeous baby blues. Clearing your throat as you waved shyly, “good night.”

He waved back, a stretching smile on his lips. When you shut the door, you quickly went to the window and looked secretly behind the curtain at him. He eyed your house for a bit, a smirk on his face then he looked down at his fingers and finally retreated towards Tannyhill.

There was a subtle shift in your system, an unspoken feeling you didn’t want to name afraid it shall gain power and become resilient.

For heaven’s sake, you wanted to seduce Rafe and have him like you and not the other way around. You didn’t want to get your heart broken, you weren’t doing this for fun, you were doing it out of a pure need of survival.

#seducing rafe cameron #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #obx rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #obx rafe x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fic

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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months

Note

okay so I just read the blurb about cannibal and reader going north to avoid family drama and that got me thinking !!

what if reader went to dorne and arrived at sunspear during the name day celebration of qoren martell eldest daughter (who is also the heir to dorne) and reader is invited to dine with the martell as a special guest.

the martell's have a lot of questions for her. here are a quotes I came up with from the dinner conversations:

a martel prince - "so which colour do you bare in this brewing war. black or green?"

reader - "neither, my loyality is to myself and my dragon. the highborns can do as they please, but I will not allow myself and my dragon to be turned into pawns so incestious maniacs can war over an ugly-looking metal chair and matching hat"

qoren martell - "there must be somthing special about your blood, as it is not everyday that someone who is not a targaryen claims a dragon."

reader - "there is not much special prince qoren, if you were to cut me now and smear my blood next to another hundred common borns I'm afraid you wouldn't be able to tell the difference."

and then the eldest daughter (who is clearly into reader) asks to ride cannibal and begs her parents to let her (they reluctantly agree) but reader needs a bit more convincing.

heir princess of dorne - "I am not scared"

reader - "it is not a question of being scared or not. it is the question of if cannibal will eat you or not."

okay now stay with me on this what is reader rubs her sent (like an item of her clothing) on the princess to decrease the chances of cannibal eating her. and the two go for a flight and end up kissing which cannibal isn't to happy with. and the two girls def end up becoming a lot more than just friends. heheh hope you like this idea feel free to ignore it if it's shit <3

I hope this was alright for you, sweetheart. Sorry if it seems a little clunky in some places.

I love the idea that people have heard news of reader being a non-Valyrian who claimed the wildest of all dragons, and are just naturally curious as to what makes them unique for Cannibal to finally yield and take up a rider.

It’s a mystery that no one will ever know, not even reader cuz they’re probably just as confused about that. However it isn’t something that you want to delve in deeper because you were well aware that many houses, both big and small, had their eyes on you and were anxious.

Houses such as Bracken, Blackwood, Celtigar, Tully, lannisters, Baratheon’s, Starks, Greyjoy, Aryn etc. The realm holds its breath whenever you pass by on Cannibal, halting all forms of conflict as you soared above them unbothered. You just wanted to be left alone and you could feel that Cannibal felt similar.

You knew from stories that to doubt your bond with a dragon was dangerous but your bond with cannibal was forged out of your common desire, to be able to be free to live how you felt fit, free of the personal agendas of the highborn.

So when you arrived at Dorne, you were easily spotted by the royal family and were greeted in kind as a guest on the behest of the princess of Dorne herself, who was quick to cling onto your arm and smile as you spoke while Cannibal watched on, tired of yet another person filling to hide their seemingly immediate infatuation with you. He only hopes that you were asked for your hand…again.

So once you arrived to dinner, the questions were quick to spill and you answered them in quick succession.

‘The throne is rather ugly, I see no reason to fight over it when I’d rather have it burned.’ You told them as you sipped from your goblet, trying to not be affected by the way that the Dornish princess was rubbing the back of your hand softly, sweetly. ‘Besides people have already forgotten the cause of this war and are too fickle to remember as they’re too eager in spilling blood.’ You add.

Qoren Martel, with wise eyes, leaned forward. ‘You are a nomad? You fly no flag for either cause?’

‘No.’ You tell her.

‘Why? Were their offers not sufficient for you? Did gold and glory not arise any temptation within you?’ Qorne pressed as a silence befell the table as you felt the eyes of the princess and prince on you, but you were far too use to the questions being asked as they were the same you’ve heard from the likes of Alicent, Otto, Rhaenyra and Daemon.

You were the wild card they didn’t see nor expect and now we’re trying to quell you and Cannibal before the war reached a point where Dragons were brought into it. You were Cannibal’s counterpart in human skin as he was yours in dragon scales, you two were a force to be reckoned with and you had yet to engage in combat.

‘The thoughts of riches and glory and power is enough to tempt even the strongest man in Westeros, I however value things that go beyond such.’ You told her.

‘And what is that?’ Qorne inquired, raising her brow, curiosity taking over her as it did Dornish prince beside her as he too leant in close to her your words.

‘To find peace, to be left alone and out of the minds of every person in the realm. There was a reason cannibal never left his cave and yet, he came out for me and now he will not know rest because of me, and I want him to find rest be it with or without me.’ You tell her as you thought about how tired Cannibal had become during your journey, you could feel the ache of his bones as though it were you who were tired, you loved Cannibal and respected him immensely but you didn’t wish to have him suffer for the greed of others.

From a distance Cannibal lets out a groan, as though feeling your emotions through your bond to let you know that he made his choice in his rider, and that he did not liked his choice to be one of contention if his rider is feeling strongly about his wellbeing. For he was a dragon of old Valyria and could handle more than what was given to him now.

Stubborn old fool. You thought to yourself.

I heard you little one. You then heard cannibal speak in your mind, his voice a low timbre that could be felt within your chest, through your bones and more. You weren’t certain if Aemond, Aegon, daemon or the others could heard the voices of their dragons within their one head, or if you were the only one who had achieved such a thing; Either way it was just another thing that made you feel even more alone.

‘You put the realm at risk for the sake of your dragon?’ The Dornish prince asked as though the thought befuddled him.

‘It is not I who will torch Westeros.’ You reminded him, ‘it’s the Targaryen’s that are currently infighting right now who will, in merely a commoner who just so happened to be favoured by a god.’

‘A god? You consider your dragon on equal footing with the gods?’ The princess next to you asked eagerly as she gripped your hand.

‘Shouldn’t we all?’ You rhetorically replied before carrying on. ‘The Targaryens have fooled themselves into thinking their superior due to their control over them, a fallacy I call it, but if you take away their control. So who’s to say that they can’t be cut down like any other man regardless of social status.’ You looked into Qoren Martel’s eyes when you say this as a look of understanding passes over her face.

‘Can I ride with you on Cannibal?’ The princess asked suddenly and you almost chocked on your drink as Qorne was quick to voice her displeasure at her daughter’s brashness.

‘Of course you cannot.’ She barked, ‘that beast will seat no other than his rider.’ She then looks over to you, ‘am I correct in that assumption?’

‘Of course!’ You replied quickly as you aided in her attempts to prevent the princess from doing anything reckless. ‘Cannibal will not permit anyone other than me to ride upon his back, he’s…’ you paused as you looked behind yourself to see Cannibal reach up and feast upon a flock of birds passing by, ‘…well he’s as the legend of old speak of.’

The princess didn’t seem pleased with your answer as she stared you down. ‘I can handle it.’

You and Qorne Martel shared a look across the table that spoke of exhaustion that felt as though lasted for hours on end until it was broken by a sigh. ‘Fine you may fly with our guest on Cannibal but on one condition.’

‘Anything mother.’ The princess said, back straightened.

‘Come right back.’ Qorne said with finality as the princess was quick to grab you by the arm and drag you towards cannibal but before she was about to mount him, you pull her back and she looked at you with furrowed brows. ‘Why did you stop me?’

You didn’t speak a word but rip a piece of your clothing from your person and began rubbing it on the princess wrists, neck, cheeks and arms. ‘Protecting you.’ You said afterwards, letting go of her arm as she quickly mounted cannibal who gave you a look before you mounted him.

‘Hold on tight princess.’ You whispered in the beautiful woman’s ear as you reached past her and patted Cannibal twice before gripping the princess by her waist, pulling her close to your front as you took off to the skies above.

Cannibal wasn’t at the least impressed, and was even made more so when he looked behind to see that the princess had your face held between her hands as she leant in for a kiss. You didn’t make any moves to stop her as you indulged yourself in her sweet lips, heavenly and intoxicating as she was as you closed your eyes. Who’d knew kissing in the sky would be as romantic as you initially thought?

Cannibal only huffed as he continued to fly onward, he’ll let you have this one moment, you’ve been more then deserving of it for what the realm has put you both through.

#house of the dragon #hotd

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gilverrwrites · 7 months

Note

reader having to adjust to michael and adam in the same body together (maybe a twinge of angst), but reader slowly grows to love michael just as much as they love adam <3

Growing to love Michael as much as you love Adam

Author note: This is very Michael heavy, I think at some point I wanna do something that either more Adam centric, or fully about them both. Also I have some ideas brewing for an actual fic, maybe?

Rating: General

Genre: Fluff, mild angst.

Words: 982

Please remember: Not to worry about thing's you cannot control.

Seeing Adam after so long was surreal.

He’d changed so much; he wasn’t just older, taller, stronger.

He was always laid back and practical, but now he’s more self-assured and perceptive.

And surprisingly well-adjusted for a man who had just spent more than a millennia in hell.

In some ways, it was easy to fall back into strides with him. He’d grown and changed, but he was still the man you loved.

The hardest part was Michael.

Sometimes it felt like you were the 3rd wheel. You knew Adam first, you loved him first, but Michael had known him longer. Try explaining that to literally anyone.

Although honestly, explaining any part of Adam, Michael, and your whole dynamic to anyone would be complicated.

Now that they’re free of the cage, Michael could so easily return to Heaven. He could repress Adam's mind, take his body, and do as he pleases, but he doesn’t. He’s sacrificing everything for him. How are you supposed to compare?

Sometimes Adam will clock out of a conversation, absorbed in something else with Michael.

They have stories, and inside jokes you can never really be a part of.

It’s lonely, waking up in an unexpectedly empty bed.

Being stood up because Michael had other plans.

Raising the issues with them garners sympathy and promises of change from Adam, but Michael is less responsive, which doesn’t give you much hope.

Change is a three-way street in this case.

However, you suspect they discussed the issue between themselves at some point, because change does come.

You’d finish dinner with Adam, but Michael would help you clean up.

He has offered to use his mojo, "so much faster and easier", but Adam doesn’t want to rely too much on it. You tend to agree, unless you’re feeling lazy.

And Michael is always quick to agree when you ask. Who knew Michael could be the naughty one.

You’d plan a game/puzzle night, which Michael would get invested in, and take control of. Especially if it is strategy-based.

You’d come home at the end of a hard day, and often, Michael was the one who would listen.

At first it was:

“Your whining is displeasing; I implore you to stop.”

But over time, he becomes more sympathetic, more interested in your feelings and day-to-day life.

Until he greets you with questions about your friends, or on-going dramas. Asking if you have had a better day today.

He asks you a lot of questions. Mainly about Earth, humanity, and culture at first. Adam is a sufficient guide to the human world, but he is a little behind the times.

And you can’t deny how cute he is when he repeats slang words back at you, or attempts to use them.

“What is ‘clickbait’?” “You’re home, how was work? Please ‘spill the tea’.” “Your clothing? Oh yes, it is ‘slaying’. Is that the correct term?”

Adam, who is also learning many of these words for the first time as well, is cringing so hard in their head.

Over time his questions get more personal. Your friends, family, hobbies, etc.

He knows a lot of it already. From Adam talking about you in the cage, from his memories, and from listening to conversations you have had since reuniting. They’re both always there really, even if you’re not interacting with one directly.

But there is a difference between first-hand and second-hand experiences.

And you enjoy having someone else to talk to about these things, another perspective.

You’d grown to like his company, for an Angel he's surprisingly compassionate, at least when he wants to be anyway.

Eventually, he trusts you enough to divulge information about his own family and his very long existence.

Sometimes you would wake up in Michael’s embrace. Which wasn’t necessarily unpleasant.

Even in the dark and the silence of night, you can tell the difference.

Adam's touch is soft, warm, and comforting. He makes you feel at ease.

Michael is solid, and protective. He makes you feel safe.

Until eventually, while you don’t quite feel like you’re on par with Michael, you do feel welcome.

You like him in fact.

Maybe you like him a little too much, considering he is not your boyfriend.

Your feelings for Adam haven’t lessened at all, but how can you spend 50% of your time with Michael, who is insightful, wise, inquisitive, and so damned cute. Who makes you feel safe, and valued...

And not develop some feelings.

Which complicates things further. It puts you on edge. Makes you worried about accidentally crossing a line.

How is one supposed to act around their boyfriend when their boyfriend isn’t their boyfriend, and also you have feelings for both the boyfriend and the not boyfriend, you know? Totally relatable, right?

All those mixed feelings of inadequacy when compared to Michael and the uncertainty when spending time with him are not happy or healthy ways to feel in a relationship.

You have to broach the subject, with them both, and Michael has something to say immediately.

“We are not in competition. I can assure you Adam loves us both in different ways, in equal measure.” But he’s not Adam half the time. He’s you! You’re not Adam, you don’t love me, I don’t know how to behave around you. “Are you certain you are human?” What? “Humans are not the most astute. However, sometimes you are as dense as osmium.” Are you calling me stupid?! “I urge you to stop and consider your words for a moment. I find it incredibly upsetting and frankly offensive that you believe me to be so incapable of loving you, as foolish and naïve as you may be.”

Adam knew, the whole time. The whole damn time.

He just needed the two of you to figure it out on your own first.

There’s a lot of conversation to be had between the three of you from there.

#supernatural reader insert #supernatural imagine #adam milligan/reader #spn michael #midam/reader #spn michael/reader #gilverrwrites

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discord-lurking · 9 months

Text

Dungeons and Daddies Wiki Drama: A Greek Tragedy Told through the Medium of Forum Posts (Part 1)

Prologue

Greek tragedies are typically formatted in three or more acts interspersed with choral interludes, beginning with a prologue, and ending with an exodus. In these, protagonists often meet their downfall due to their fatal flaw, or hamartia: the ways in which the protagonists are their own undoing. Our own human failings are the things that bring us the most pain.

When considering a three-act Greek tragedy structure for this, my first thought was to use the Oresteia as a framing device, a trilogy of plays written by Aeschylus about Agamemnon's family in the aftermath of the Trojan War. Upon reflection, though, the themes of the Oresteia (revenge vs. justice, perpetuating a cycle of violence, honor and punishment) didn't quite fit the story I was trying to tell.

No, this is a classic tale of hubris: excessive pride and its ultimate downfall.

After all, what position could come with more power than that of wiki moderator for a Dungeons and Dragons podcast series?

Act One: The Beginning of the End

The D&Dads wiki has historically been... unhelpful, at best. (Source: Myself.) Trouble had been brewing for a long time.

Forum posts from spring 2022 began noting issues cropping up around the wiki. First, it was a complaint about anonymous users "disrupting" the wiki (specifically on Jodie-related pages) while also fixing mistakes in articles.

I'm unsure what specific "disruptions" were meant, but the proposal to ban anonymous users didn't garner much traction.

March 21st, 2022:

After little activity for months (only one forum post, related to infoboxes), wiki user TwoRatner had a radical proposition: wiki migration.

December 17th, 2022:

TwoRatner suggested an alternate platform that would have different editing options, then made a potentially-prophetic statement: the wiki might be cursed.

This warning went unheeded.

December 27th, 2022:

Ten days after the migration suggestion, TwoRatner came back to ask if there were any recent changes. This went unanswered for months until new user Penguinwithafancytophat reported adding art to character pages (including Glenn, a main season 1 character since the start of the podcast in 2019, who incredibly might not have had any official art on his wiki page before March of 2023).

Spring of 2023 seemed to bring along a revival of the wiki, with new editors coming in, engaging with the forum, and attempting to make suggestions on how to improve wiki organization.

March 31st, 2023:

May 27th, 2023:

July 17th, 2023:

October 2nd, 2023:

Interestingly, the only administrator seen to be interacting with these enthusiastic new editors? Gaycowboyrats. Let's put a pin in that.

Enter: the drama.

It started out simple enough- a forum posts for administrators to discuss changes that needed to be made.

November 3rd, 2023:

76 replies.

Seventy. Six. Replies. Each deeply interesting in its own way.

However, this is a Tumblr post, not an Hbomberguy video essay, so I'll keep it brief.

The discussion started out as one might expect a wiki admin discussion to start:

Mods discussed blocks, deleting stub pages, spam, etc. Standard wiki business.

The first reply to ping my interest:

Removing cast pages from a wiki about their work seemed like an odd decision, in my non-wiki-editor opinion, but the last line is what really stuck out: "Besides, I hate the idea of someone vandalizing the pages to defame them."

Several questions arose for me:

Was this a known problem? Were people constantly vandalizing cast pages?

Would a vandalized fandom wiki page really defame somebody?

Isn't the point of wiki editing to remove vandalization on articles?

The administrators began to stand out to me as deeply invested in a very specific sense of wiki justice.

Users TwoRatner, Brazil86, and TheOneTrueGod41 agreed with Honic's take.

Another thing to ping my interest: these users seemed to share a similar odd, slightly stilted, writing style. Almost Tommy Wiseau-esque.

Brazil86 expressed optimism about users engaging with wiki pages, something that would begin to set them apart from other administrators.

As I read, themes began to emerge: wiki justice, and incongruous one-liners.

Quoth Honic Washington: "I just found a wave of nonsense fish. My backyard is full of them. Hey, TOTG41, do you like jazz? I like jazz."

Truly, modern poetry.

Administrator Marth8204 suggested giving people more time. More time for what? Unclear. It seems a plan was afoot.

TwoRatner came in with a hot take: "I feel like we need a community more right now, than adding links that people can search for in the search bar."

Brazil86 agreed: Changing the navigation was less important than getting people editing and making friends.

Another theme began to emerge: wiki community as more important than wiki functionality.

Gaycowboyrats had some (incredibly reasonable) objections to this, pointing out that the wiki was a resource for many visitors who might not participate- something that is generally true of wikis as a form of content.

Honic Washington responded to this, the signs of wiki-related stress beginning to show.

Honic posts a long rant about the thankless task of moderating a wiki, which goes largely unacknowledged.

Notable TwoRatner quotes:

"You can't crack open a few omelets without punching a few egg-rolls."

"Now Freddie will get more money. What do you all say? I think I helped quite a bit."

Another theme emerges: discontent in the wiki moderator ranks.

Honic reaches full Joker mode. Again, this goes largely unacknowledged.

Honic: "I am leader. I am a painter! Keep your rules. Keep your status. Keep your friends."

"Keep your status"- words that will reverberate throughout the rest of this tale.

The final theme? Wiki moderator status, and the maintenance of it.

After Honic's bomb drop, conversation about regular wiki moderation continued, with mods considering the addition of a bot to make edits.

Admin Discussion Zone, first started by Honic Washington, ends not with a bang but with a whimper.

Over nearly a year of forum posts, patterns emerged.

Firstly- users attempting to engage in the wiki, wiki administrators not engaging with these new users, then wiki administrators bemoaning the lack of user engagement.

The notable exception was Gaycowboyrats, the only wiki administrator to engage with new users in the forums. Gaycowboyrats, the administrator whose (incredibly reasonable) suggestions ended with Honic Washington's villain-esque monologues and denouement as a moderator.

Secondly- administrators putting forth large-scale, drastic solutions to real or perceived wiki problems. This includes Cheesoid4 wanting to ban anonymous users, TwoRatner suggesting site migration, Honic deleting cast pages to prevent vandalism, and more to come.

Thirdly- wiki administrators seeming to share similar styles of speech and occasional non-sequiturs. Interestingly, this mainly seems to include the wiki administrators who agree with each other.

Funny how that happens.

Chorus

Stay tuned for Part 2, where the forum drama really starts to heat up.

#dungeons and daddies

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dailyadventureprompts · 1 year

Text

Adventure: Through the Vine

Surrounded by some of the most coveted vineyards on the continent, your party sits in the shaded garden and listens to the old alchemist explaining why she needs your help getting drunk enough to see the face of god.

Every adventurer knows the name Ultani, at least those with coin and taste enough to order bottles of wine when they and their friends hit up a tavern after a delve. What an irony then for one of the Ultani family to ask for THEM at her table, and with a business proposition of all things.

Bent with age but bright of eye, Ivilia Ultani needs their help tracking down the location of an abandoned druid sanctum in the far wilderness and retrieving fruit sacred to the god of vintners and healers left over from a disastrous ritual. Her reasons? Apparently after decades perusing the alchemical mysteries Ivilia got her hands on a bottle blessed by the wine-god himself, and spent four days in a state of drunken revelation pencilling out her magnum opus. The bottle and her inspiration dry just before she finished, so rather than waiting years trying to trial and error the last piece or searching for another bottle she's decided to make some of her own.

Along the way the party will contend with family drama, the cutthroat politics of the wine trade, and the long echoing consequences of stealing from merciful gods. For their troubles they'll not only earn the thanks of a talented alchemist, but also potentially a new home should they hold true to their task.

Setup: Though she is the oldest of her of her merchant clan Ivilia is not the head of the Ultani winery. Her younger brother Valtar had the talent for cultivation and business while she veered towards eccentric scholarship, now Valtar's adult grandchildren run the business and the numerous sprawling vineyards associated with it while she lives in learned obscurity on the original family homestead.

While she occasionally helps out whit a new formulation of fertilizer or pest repellent, Ivilia is rather distant from the rest of the Ultani family who view her as a bit of a kook, who all to often uses her inherited share of the enterprise to buy obscure texts or finance futile experiments.

Challenges & Complications:

Actually finding the sanctum is going to be half the problem. Druidic orders are notoriously protective about the location of their secret clubhouses, and this order was scattered to the wind more than a century ago. Ivilia has tracked down the vague location where she thinks the sanctum might be, but unless the party wants to spend days combing the dangerous wilderness they're going to need to track down a more reliable source. Parsing through local rumours and records gives them three leads, an elf who still provides council to the local Count (goodluck getting an appointment), a vaguely helpful ditty that was recounted to a local bard (since dramatized in endless retelling), and an elder of the order who flew back to his home village in the shape of a falcon. Investigating the latter finds that the elder was apparently so scarred by what he'd seen at the sanctum that he transformed himself into a tree and has spent the intervening decades letting his mind and memory lignify.

The Sanctum itself and the landscape that surrounds it has been scarred by an act of divine wrath that still lingers in the form of dangerous fey and choking vines. Roots have undermined the walls and foundations, making chambers all to easy to collapse. In the centre of this ruin lays the undead corpse of Elmgrace , a once famed elven healer who sought the boon of the god Litirenn only to try and use that gift to reign the god towards his own purposes. Resentful at this deception Litirenn unleashed havoc on the sanctum, cursing Elmgrace never to die, never to rot, and never to rejoin the cycle of nature. Forever vinebound to the same altar he intended for the deity, Elmgrace's few last fanatical followers still tend to his broken body, attempting to brew up more potent poisons that will finally "free" their teacher from his torment.

Unfortunately, the fruit the party needs to pluck grows only from the plants impaling Elmgrace's body, which his followers are very protective of. Even after the party races through the wilderness and back to civilization with their prize they'll need to look over their shoulder for toxin obsessed cultists stalking their trail.

Further Adventures:

Milo Ultani has something to prove, the oldest of four siblings and a gaggle of cousins poised to inherit the winery he was raised to value hard work and loyalty to the family above all else. All his life it has irked him that his great aunt was allowed to dwell in their ancestral home, some of the nicest land his family owns, leaching off their enterprise like a withered limb. What finally drives him to act is Ivilia offhandedly mentioning that she intends to sign over her house and land to the party as a reward for helping her drink her way to enlightenment again. Resentment turns to rage in the young man's mind as a plan begins to form; A vine must be pruned in order to be fruitful after all.

When the party return with the godly fruit they're going to find Ivilia gone, her home broken into during the night her bed a mess of red that at first seems to be blood, but is infact wine. Surrounded by experts it doesn't take long for the vino in question to be identified as belonging to Jadash Hill, one of the Ultani's oldest rivals who are known for their unscrupulous business practices. It's at this point that Milo comes forward, reporting that some of their carters had gotten into brawls with those from Jadash Hill at a local tollhouse, sending the bastards packing and ignoring their threats of reprisal as idle boasting. This did indeed happen, but only because Milo is in charge of part of the family's delivery operation and instigated the fight himself.

The clock is ticking, the party has a bushel of miracle fruit that's going to rot and the alchemist they were supposed to deliver it to is nowhere to be seen. They can either find Ivilia quick, figure out a method of preserving the fruit, or read through her notes and attempt to concoct the divine wine themselves.

However badly he thinks of her, Milo would never kill his great aunt, having instead had his loyal carters drag her off to a small cottage on the edge of a property the family was keeping fallow for the year. In his reckoning the old woman won't live much longer, and while the emerging feud with Jadash hill keeps the family busy he can figure out a better place to keep his great aunt locked up. He wasn't delicate in his planning but he moves fast and the influence he has with the workforce as the presumptive heir cannot be overstated.

Art 1 Art 2

#dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #ttprg #pathfinder #adventure #dungeon #player home #Alchemy #mid level #low level #Litirenn #field #Forest #druid #patron merchant #dungeon forest #dungeon jungle

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averagewriter-inthedark · 11 months

Text

Time of Our Lives | Dancer!Jake Seresin x dancer!reader | Dirty Dancing AU

TGM masterlist

Characters & pairings: dancer!Jake Seresin x dancer!reader (romantic)

Content warnings: fluff, light profanity, pop culture references | Female!reader (she/her) | WC: 8.8k

Requested 📨 yes/no (for @eternalsams 🩶🥹)

Premise: what happens when two childhood best friends from well off families reunite at a country club leading into a summer that would impact their careers for eternity while dancing around a decades worth of brewing feelings and recreating an iconic dance for the country clubs annual showcase? Here’s a hit, it’s gonna be like that one song Baby and Johnny fell in love to.

Note: I am alive and just know I (quite literally) had the time of my life writing this piece. It brought me back to my 80s movies/dirty dancing hyperfixation 😭 @eternalsams thank you so much for your patience and requesting this gem. I hope I did you Justice and dancer Jake has my heart and soul. Thank you for trusting me with your vision 🩶

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“You could at least act like you’re having fun, Y/n,” came the scolding words of her mother when she noticed the unamused expression Y/n possessed.

A natural state she would describe since they arrived at the resort. And what Y/n could not depart from no matter how hard she tried.

Summertime. The best time of year for some folks who are eager to get away from the stress and drama of work and school to relax and have fun. Whether it be a week or two whole months. For high school dance teacher Y/n L/n, her ideal summer vacation would be in the comfort of her own home with a book or chilling at her favorite resultant sipping on Margaritas while enjoying live music. Going out with her small select group of friends to dance was also on her list of summer necessities…but her family had other plans.

To kick off her 2023 summer break—which is to last nearly three weeks if she manages to survive—Y/n and her family were at an upscale Catskills resort located in the Appalachian Mountains not too far from New York, the place she currently called home. A snazzy estate one may add, for it was filled with alumni from the top Ivy League schools in the country.

And Y/n’s personal hell.

Of course she loved spending time with her parents and siblings….to an extent. But, when they’re constantly berating her life choices by becoming a dance instructor—on top of displeased opinions of her love life—-Y/n felt suffocated by them.

It was like she could never live up to the expectation they had of her no matter how much she proved herself and her talent. Not only were her parents highly respected doctors in their community, but her sister graduated Summa Cum Laude at Yale Law School, marrying her college sweetheart before taking a job at one of the city’s top firms. Then there was her brother. He went on to become a naval fighter pilot, distinguished and respected with his place at number one in his class during his year at Top Gun. His wife was a trauma nurse who worked at the same hospital as her parents.

Yet here she was—mind you, a former member of the New York City Ballet Company, Juilliard Alumni, performed at the Super Bowl, toured with Rihanna in the mid early 2010s, appeared in several music videos, and teaches at the Frank Sinatra School of the Arts—unable to adhere to their standards.

Parents…they want what’s best for their children. Right?

Yeah she found that hard to believe.

If only they saw her in the Ballroom. And no, not talking about the kind you see on Dancing With The Stars. She’s talking about the Ballroom that calls New York its home.

But also ballroom dancing. Her sister would have a heart attack if she discovered Y/n danced Bachata with Prince Royce at a New York latin club.

“Fun?” Y/n scoffed, sipping at her glass of champagne resulting in a light cringe at the taste. For rich people one would think they’d have the best there was. What just hit her tastebuds was something out of a box container imposing as fancy liquor. “I don’t see how anyone could find this type of rendezvous fun, mother.” She received a scolding glare.

“Keep your voice down,” the older woman kept looking around to see if anyone heard, “these are our friends.”

“Your friends,” Y/n corrected. There was no way in hell she’d consider any of the fake people in front of her friends. No matter how long their families have been acquainted. None of them liked each other, and were always trying to one up whenever someone voiced an accomplishment.

Instead of answering, Y/n’s mother simply walked away with an annoyed huff. No longer in the mood to argue. Rolling her eyes, Y/n downed the last of her champagne before making way out the french doors of the lounge and into one of the many patios. The sunshine greeted her with its vibrant and warm rays. Chatter from the guests sitting under umbrellas and beside the pool filled her ears. Y/n placed her sunglasses and booked it across until she was on the pathway leading to the guesthouse she and her family were staying.

“Y/n!” Had it been anyone else the woman would’ve mentally signed, but the voice behind the greeting was none other than her childhood best friend growing up, Natasha. A genuine smile appeared on her face as she turned around.

“Hey, Nat!” the two embraced in a hug, “Been a while, huh?” In truth the two hadn’t seen each other face to face since 2019 when Natasha moved to California to base her talent agency. Despite this, Natasha still traveled every year to Caskilles around this time to see her family, whereas Y/n remained in New York due to shows and gigs.

“More like four years,” a playful nudge was sent her way, “girl you left me here to fend for myself. I should feel betrayed,” Nat smirked, “but I can’t blame you. The only reason I keep coming to this place is to please my mom. It’s the only time all of us siblings are under the same roof.”

Natasha was the oldest of four and the only daughter to three sons. Her father had been the Mayor of New York City while her mother was the former District Attorney. All of her brothers had achieved prospective careers. Antonio, the second oldest, had been drafted by the MLB and currently played for the Washington Nationals. Dominic, the middle brother, was a nuclear engineer who rarely ever got time off but always managed to get a week in the summer. Lastly the youngest of the bunch, Victor, was a professional photographer who went on tour with artists like Journey, Lionel Richie, Daddy Yankee, and Stevie Nicks.

For Natasha, she had fallen in love with the fashion industry at a young age. After graduating from the Fashion Institute of Technology Natasha received an intern position at Vogue Magazine before becoming a product and brand marketing manager at Louis Vuitton, for which she got the opportunity to live in Paris, France for four years. There she got to work closely with Virgil Abloh, who unfortunately passed away in 2021, and Nicolas Ghesquiere.

As of 2022 Nat relocated to San Francisco and developed her own talent agency for aspiring models and fashion photographers who come from low-income backgrounds, LGBTQIA+, people of color and disabilities. With its success Nat’s had several clients on the face of Vogue and walking runways at every fashion week.

“I’m sorry,” Y/n said, the two beginning to walk down the path together, “Life’s been hectic. During the pandemic there were little to no gigs so I had no idea what to do.” Unfortunately being in the dance industry meant competitive opportunities with a maybe 10% success rate if lucky. Y/n’s last big break was dancing with Lady Gaga and Ariana Grande in their ‘Rain on Me’ music video. Y/n occasionally attended the Balls in New York, but hadn’t walked a category in ages.

She did have a following on social media, which bought in a reasonable amount of income. Over 100k on YoutTube and roughly 2 half a million on TikTok. Instagram had close to 3 million since it had been the primary platform in the 2010s and several of her dance videos went viral.

“I understand,” Nat nodded solemnly, “It was like that for me too. It’s nice the world is slowly going back to normal. Although,” she paused to chuckle, “the amount of damage control getting bookings back to their normal pace was probably the most stressful point in my career.”

“Has it been easier now?” They stopped at a little bench overlooking the lake, “I saw you were at fashion week.”

Nat instantly brightened. “Much better than before I will say. We’ve got a great wave of new clientele—I just landed this fella a cover with GQ so I’m pleased with that.” Y/n congratulated her before the agent changed the subject, “But enough about me, what about you?”

The woman scoffed, “Well my last big thing was the Lady Gaga music video—and that was going on three years now,” the thought made her frown. It wasn’t like her to go so long without a gig. “I auditioned for a spot on Beyoncé’s tour.”

“The Renaissance tour,” Nat nearly gagged. It was all anyone could talk about since tickets went on sale earlier that year. Nat managed to snag two for her and her boyfriend for the Los Angeles show. “And?”

“I’ll know in about a month or so if I book it.”

“You so got it,” Nat assured with a tap on her shoulder, “You’re one of the best dancers in the world. You danced with Madonna at the Super Bowl,” her gaze became pointed, “and toured with Rihanna. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Nat,” Y/n laughed, though deep down she felt the hope in her rise.

Rolling her eyes, Natasha leaned back against the bench and was about to comment when someone in the distance caught her eye. “Is that who I think it is?”

Peeking over her shoulder, Y/n suddenly straightened her posture upon seeing the blonde man grinning from ear to ear as they made eye contact. Jake Seresin certainly landed on the right side of the puberty coin. With his tan, muscular frame, gorgeous green eyes, blonde hair and smile that belonged on the cover of a magazine, he was a sight for sore eyes.

“Ladies, fancy seeing you two here on this beautiful afternoon.”

A wave of butterflies simmered in Y/n’s tummy, a shy smile forming as he approached the bench. It’d been several years since the two saw each other despite being friends since childhood. “Jake,” she greeted, moving to accept his hug when he opened his arms. Natasha followed before the two sat back down, “It’s good to see you. Is your mom with you?”

Like Natasha and her family, Jake’s were part of the same circuit in terms of highly respected, sometimes influential people. His mother, a doctor, was a colleague of Y/n’s parents, and his late father was one of Texas’ Congressmen during the 2000-2010s. Jake’s only sibling, his sister Krista, was a young adult novelist with over ten publications.

Jake on the other hand was like Y/n: a professional dancer and known in the industry as a real life Ken Doll. He had a massive following online, choreographed music videos and tours—even went on tour with Bruno Mars, Justin Bieber, & Ariana Grande—and was a guest judge on ‘So You Think You Can Dance,”. During the pandemic a lot of his dance sequences went viral and became trends, Y/n even posted on to which he reposted with the caption, “you know I had to shine the spotlight on my favorite dance partner. Miss you Y/n/n.”

You can bet Y/n experienced internal fireworks.

There was no denying she had a crush on Jake growing up. The two were inseparable whenever their families stayed at the resort. They’d even make trips out to each other during winter break, eventually attended Juilliard at the same time, and collaborated early in their careers. Jake and Y/n used to sneak out of the country club when they were younger to dance on the dock while blasting music from the boom box they’d stolen from the lounge. They learned ballroom together, competing in competition without Y/n’s family having knowledge of it.

Unlike Y/n’s parents, Jake’s mom and dad approved of his career choice. Though skeptical in the beginning, they grew to be very supportive and attended his showcases at school, the concert he was performing in and kept up with what he was doing.

Because of their disapproval of her pursuing dance, Y/n believes their learning of Jake’s endeavors resulted in them no longer coming to the country club if he and his family were there. They also never asked about him or worked with his mother despite being in the same field. It’s like they blamed Jake for Y/n not becoming what they wanted her to be: a doctor or a lawyer.

“She and my sis are settling in,” he gestured down the path he came, where several cabins were located. “We just got in about an hour ago.”

“How long are you guys here for?” The question came from Nat, who threw a look at Y/n.

Jake didn’t notice, “a couple weeks. Needed a break from the world—and Mr. Collins asked me to help him with this showcase he’s putting together.” Y/n raised her brow.

“Showcase?”

“It’s more for the youngins,” Jake explained. “He asked if I could help teach some dance lessons for those interested.” Though it physically hurt not to react, Y/n somehow managed to remain neutral. Even putting a semi-fake smile.

How come Mr. Collins didn’t ask her?

“Stop it,” the voice in her head said, “it’s not a competition and you know Jake would never be upset if the roles were reversed.”

“Wow, Jake, that's great!” She was happy for him. And scolded herself mentally for the childish thought she had. Jake was an exceptional dancer and a great teacher. Y/n had watched some of his YouTube videos in passing and had no doubt he could get the job done.

“Say if you have the time I’d be happy to have you join in,” he flashes a smile that would have any girl weak in the knees. “I’d say you’re more of an expert in certain areas that I’m not really well acquainted with.” Warmth fills her chest.

“I’d love to. Thank you, Jake.”

The second he departed Natasha was on Y/n. “Girl, if you do not hop on that—.”

“Natasha!”

“What?” She whispers shouts after being hushed, “you’re into him, he’s so into you,” Y/n’s expression is that of, ‘You’re delusional’. “Skip the previews and start the movie.” Now that was a metaphor Y/n had not heard before, but clever nonetheless.

“Jake and I have been friends for years,” Y/n brushed her off. “I am not going to risk ruining what we have because of some middle school crush.” The brunette rolls her eyes.

“But it’s not, ‘some middle school crush.’ You’ve had feelings for him for over decades now—which is a conversation for another day,” Y/n makes a sound of offense, but does not deny the woman. “It’s time to put on your big girl panties and get your man.”

She’s quiet for a moment, glancing to her feet, “What if it’s not meant to be. My family would never approve—.”

“Like you’ve let them dictate what you do in life.”

“My point is—,” Y/n cuts back, “I’ve already disappointed them with my career path. Call me naive or delusional, but I don’t want to have to deal with constantly being berated for my choice of partner. Jake is wonderful in every aspect, but what he does will just set my parents off again for another twenty years if by some miracle we start something up.”

Natasha sighs, placing a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder, “Sometimes you have to accept that parents are always going to have their opinions that are unchangeable. And you have to let go of the hope they’ll come around. Y/n, you’ve dealt with this since you were seventeen, maybe it’s time to distance yourself from it.”

“And if it all backfires and I end up alone?”

“You’ll never be alone,” she nudges her, “I’m here. And even if it all blows to hell, then at least you can say you tried.”

The next day Y/n found Jake at the little studio room the club used to teach waltz lessons. She was met with his gorgeous smile and an army of preteens in the middle of showing off who could do the best tik tok dance. “I see I’ve interrupted a very important matter.”

“None wanted to do the one I created,” he dramatically pouts, “saying it was too complicated.”

She laughed, “Well they’re not wrong.”

“Hey!”

For the next week, Y/n and Jake spent four hours a day--two in the morning and two in the afternoon--with the kids teaching them different styles of dance. Of course the crowd favored breakdancing, hip hop, modern, and vogue, but would request to watch Jake and Y/n perform routines they used to do back in the day. Swing was a popular one, as was quickstep and jive because of its upbeat and face paced. One day Jake busted out his tap dancing skills while Y/n displayed some ballet.

“How can a person do that?” a kid commented as she stood on revelé. Jake leaned down, whispering, “she’s secretly an alien from another planet.”

“C’mon I wanna show you something,” Jake grabs her hand one night after dinner. He leads her to a cabin not too far from the main resort where members of the staff have started a party. On the speakers were some 2000s hits that summed up the millennial crowd. Jake waved to some of the guys who ran group activities in the corner, Y/n spotted the culinary department at the food table. And if she were to glance at the door on the opposite end of the cabin, she’d see the housekeeping passing around an object containing a certain plant.

“What’s this?”

��The only place where the workers get to catch a break after spending all day with those uptight rich folks. They call it ‘Dirty Dancing’,” Y/n’s expression becomes amused, letting out a soft laugh.

“Like the 80s movie with Patrick Swayze?” Jake beams.

“The one and only,” taking her hand once more, he leads her to the makeshift dance floor. “Let’s show them how it’s done.”

To say the two became the life of the party was an understatement. Jake spun Y/n to the sound of her laughter and Elvis ‘Jailhouse Rock’. Jumping up and down with a crowd around them to Pitbull’s “Give Me Everything.”

“Tonight, I want all of you tonight,” They pointed to each other, “Give me everything tonight.” Y/n pointed to the girl beside her, “For all we know we might not get tomorrow. Let’s do it tonight.” Jake fist pumped with some guys around him, “Don’t care what they say, or what games they play. Nothing is enough, ‘til they handle love.” people in the back shouted “let’s do it tonight.”

“I want you tonight, I want you to stay,” Jake gave Y/n a look, “I want you tonight,” she squealed upon him pulling her toward him, “Grab somebody sexy tell ‘em hey.” the entire house exploded into the chorus. Everyone having the time of their lives, it felt like a scene from a movie.

Y/n pulled girls into the middle during Beyonce’s ‘Single Ladies.’ Then they carried the party when ‘Year 3000’ by the Jonas Brothers came on. “He said, ‘I've been to the year 3000. Not much has changed, but they lived underwater. And your great-great-great-granddaughter is doing fine!”

Some staff who happened to be part of the New York Ballscene recognized Y/n, leading to a vogue battle to commence. “This is what I wanna see!”

Let’s just say….that was the moment Jake knew he was in love.

“‘Cause we are living in a material world. And I am a material girl,” The next morning Y/n was rudely awoken by her ringtone. “Hello,” her groggy voice answered, hearing Jake on the opposite end sounding equally as tired.

“Are you busy this afternoon in between lessons?”

“Not that I know of. What’s up?”

“I just got off the phone with Collin,” his tone shifted to one she couldn’t decipher, “He’s asking if you and I would be interested in performing at the showcase.” Jolting from the bed, Y/n was fully awake.

“Come again.”

“You and me. Me and you,” Jake repeated, “we put on a little number for the finale.”

Fiddling with her pajama top, Y/n suddenly became nervous. The night before she was on Cloud 9 with the way Jake was looking at her. They danced the night away and those feelings she desperately tried to hide were slowly becoming difficult to keep down. “What did you have in mind?”

“Time of My Life, really?” The two were at the studio dressed in comfy attire they usually danced in. “Don’t you think that’s a little cliche.”

“I thought it was fitting,” the blonde rebutted. Jake suggested the two perform the iconic dance sequence at the end of the 80s classic. “What, you got something against it?”

She rolled her eyes, “Only that my parents blame my childhood obsession with it as the reason I didn’t follow their dreams for me.” Jake made a face.

“They’re still not over that?”

“Nope,” She popped the ‘p’. “In fact they still remind me every chance they get about it.”

Jake finished setting up the song loop, standing from his crouching position, “Well, let’s prove just how wrong they were when you blow their mind with your talent at the showcase.”

Between the giggles and constantly finding any moment to procrastinate, it was a miracle the two managed to choreograph a routine. It wasn’t an exact copy of the iconic dance Baby and Johnny performed, but they kept some elements in.

Including the lift.

“Jake, I don’t know about this,” Y/n shivered when her body hit the cold water, following him until their waists were submerged. The whole idea made her nervous. It was an intimidating maneuver.

Jake, however, did not show any sign of hesitation. “Worried I’d drop you?” he teased, “I thought you trusted me? We used to do this all the time as kids.”

“Exactly. I do trust you, but we’re not fifteen anymore. I’m not--,” he cut her off gently.

“Don’t say what I think you’re about to say,” his look was soft but serious at the same time. “You have nothing to worry about. And besides, we’re out here taking precautions instead of being in the studio where if something did go wrong, we’re not as likely to end up in the ER.”

Sighing, Y/n rubbed her eyes. “Fine, let’s just get this over with, before I drown in embarrassment..”

About two and half hours of non-stop repetition of Jake lifting Y/n in the air passed. Sometimes he purposely lost footing so they both planted into the freezing lake water and other times he genuinely faltered. “Jake!”

“I’m sorry!” Thankfully at least one out of every ten attempts were a success. By that we’re talking they were able to hold the position for more than four seconds. “Okay, we’re done for the day.”

As the sun started to set, Jake climbed onto the dock before pulling Y/n up. “Thanks,” she took the towel he handed her, immediately squeezing the excess water from her hair. “Well that was fun.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, grabbing his towel. “I think we made some great progress. We’ll go through the whole routine tomorrow and see what needs adjustments.” The showcase was in just over a week, meaning they were crunching down on time.

“Sounds like a plan.” Stars painted the sky, the two eventually sitting on the dock with their towels wrapped around them. Soft music played from Jake’s speaker.

“How’s it been for you?” Jake was the one to break the silence, “thinking about it, we haven’t really got the chance to catch up. New York still treating you well?”

“Oh uh,” Y/n swallowed, unsure of how to answer without sounding too pessimistic. “It’s been alright. I’ve been teaching for the last two years.”

“A teacher you say? Where at?”

“Frank Sinatra School of Arts.” Jake’s smile grew.

“That’s amazing!” Butterflies erupted at his praise. “I’m happy for you, Y/n, really. You’re inspiring the next generation.”

“Thanks,” she looked away, unable to keep eye contact when her heart was beating so fast. ‘Geez, why am I like this? He’s making me feel like I’m fourteen again.’ “I’ve enjoyed it. My students were amazing.” Jake raised a curious brow.

“Are you not teaching anymore?”

Y/n bit her lip, “well, I haven’t renewed my contract for the upcoming school year yet,” she paused before adding, “I’m waiting to find out if I got a spot on this tour I auditioned for.” Now Jake was super curious. Lots of artists were touring that summer. The Jonas Brothers, Big Time Rush, Kesha, SZA, and of course the much anticipated Era’s and Renaissance tours of Taylor Swift and Beyonce.

And Jake was going to be involved in one.

“Is it okay if I ask which one?” his tone had an underlying hint of excitement at the thought the two might work together. Traveling across the country in what would be one of the best experiences in their lives.

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion, “something tells me you have a secret, Jake Seresin. Would you like to share with the class what’s on your mind?”

Scratching his head, Jake answered, “I’m not really supposed to say…..but,” she held her breath, releasing with a low gasp, “I’ll be touring with Taylor Swift.”

“Wow,” the woman was speechless, breaking into a massive grin. “I-uh, wow, Jake that’s incredible! Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” he accepted her hug, not caring that their clothes were still damp. “I honestly didn’t believe I’d get it.” a playful slap landed on his arm.

“Please,” came her scoff, “You really thought Miss Americana herself would not see the talent in front of her?” Y/n mentally cheered in victory at the sight of his blush. “She’d be foolish to not have you as part of her time.”

“Okay okay,” he swatted her hands away with a chuckle. “Now answer my question.”

Once revealing who’s tour Y/n auditioned for, the two embarked on an hour long conversation about their careers and life. Jake mentioned how he had been in a relationship but it didn’t work out. Y/n vented on the ongoing emotional feud with her family--to which Jake told her, “It’s their loss for not seeing you the way the rest of the world does.”

Yeah, that made her melt.

By the end of the night there was a shift in the atmosphere. Both felt it, glancing away when they held eye contact longer than usually without a word passing by. They had suddenly become quiet, only the crickets singing through the trees.

“It’s getting late,” Y/n rushed out, moving to stand. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Jake mirrored her movements. “Same time.” Heading back to the cabins their families were staying at, they arrived at Y/n’s first.

Opening her mouth to say goodnight and avoid an awkward moment, Y/n’s words paused upon seeing Jake’s expression, “You look troubled.”

“I--,” he began before stopping, causing Y/n’s nerves to rise. “It’s nothing.”

The dancer wasn’t having it, “No, no no,” she playfully raised a hand, “you can’t leave me hanging like that, Jake. I thought we were friends.” Suddenly it became quiet again. Next thing Y/n knew was Jake softly grabbing her hand.

“You know I adore you right?”

Her heart skipped, “Not really, but I do now,” the light chuckle was obviously embedded with nerves. “I adore you too.”

“And we’ve been….rather close for a long time.”

“Yes,” the word trailed off her tongue, somehow managing to hold the eye contact Jake was giving her. She was practically pinned where she stood.

“I realize this isn’t the best time or way to say this,” his cheeks become rosy, “but I’ve really enjoyed these past couple weeks catching up and being able to dance again like we used to. And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bring back some feelings I tried to ignore for fear it would ruin what we have.”

Y/n couldn’t believe what was happening, “Bring back?” Did the man she secretly longed for since they were teenagers want her too? After all this time? She nearly pinched herself.

Jake looked away, bringing his other hand to scratch his neck. “Yeah. Look, I understand if you don’t feel the same and I’m sorry for dropping this on you but after the party I felt like my world was finally on its axis. You…” he struggles finding the right words, “I can’t stop thinking about you and what we could be. You’re my best friend, Y/n. And I view you as someone I wanna dance with till we’re old and gray.”

“Jake,” his name was the softest it had ever been coming out of her mouth. Here was the moment she had been dreaming about. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

His reaction was immediate, “You--you feel the same?” The tone was that of disbelief and hope. Heart pounding beneath his skin.

Y/n cupped his face in her hands, grinning ear to ear, “There is no one else in this world I’d rather dance with than you, Jake. I’ve felt this way about you for as long as I can remember.”

Not wasting a second longer, Jake leaned down and captured her lips in a sweet kiss. Fireworks exploded between the two, the butterflies escaping their stomachs to swarm around them. Jake's lips were soft against hers, moving slowly as though to commit them to memory. When they pulled away, he kept his forehead against hers, “wow.”

She giggled, repeating, “wow.”

“Is this what Could 9 is supposed to feel like? Because I’m getting those vibes.”

Y/n threw her head back, laughing before covering her mouth when she remembered her family was asleep on the other side of the door, “You’re not the only one, hot shot. If this is what cloud 9 feels like then I never want to lose it.”

In the days following that magical night, the two continued their practice session. Perfecting the dance to where they didn’t even hear the music to be able to hit the steps right. When it came to the lift, however, Y/n was still worried of a disaster. Thankfully after several successful attempts at the studio she was able to let go of her doubt.

Plus she was tired of hearing Jake’s teasing.

Each night after parting ways that afternoon the two would meet up at the docks. Spending hours laying on the wood to watch the stars twinkle and talk about life. Then Jake would walk her back to the cabin, saying goodbye with a sweet kiss. With every minute they spent together, every dance, every kiss, both Jake and Y/n were falling more and more for each other.

One could go as far as to say it was love.

One could say they were having the time of their lives.

But of course what is life without a little drama? Y/n silently prayed drama would be avoided. Once in her life could things just be great? Without the everlying feeling of something going wrong?

Yeah, it was too good to be true.

“Jake!” a voice interrupted the peaceful morning, ripping the two apart from their kiss. They had gone for a jog together that morning around the lake, stopping at their usual spot of the docks before heading to the studio to practice for the night's event. Turning to the direction of the voice, Y/n’s eyes landed on a fiery redhead storming up the path. Her attention was on the man beside her, not hiding the obvious fact she was furious. “Who the hell is that?”

“Tatiana?” Jake’s tone was of shock and confusion. He let go of Y/n’s face he had been cradling, but kept a firm touch on her arm. “W-what are you--.”

“Is it so much to ask for you to answer your phone?” stopping in front of the two, her blazing hazel eyes locked on Y/n. “Who are you? And why the fuck were you making out with my boyfriend.”

“Excuse me?” she stammered, glacing at Jake who now looked pissed off. ‘He’s had a girlfriend this whole time?”

“I haven’t been your boyfriend since December, Tatiana,” he raised a pointed finger, casting a look to Y/n with pleading eyes that he was telling the truth. “We’ve been broken up for a while now.” he turned back to his ex, “You made that clear to me when you had me choose between the career I’ve spent decades building and you.”

There was anger in his tone, not pleased with her claims. Y/n didn’t know what to believe, all she could feel was a weight clamping down on her shoulder.

“Oh really,” removing her phone from her back pocket, Tatiana tapped the screen a few times before pushing it in Y/n’s face, “Does that seem like it to you.” Leaning forward, Y/n gulped at the sight of text messages indicating Jake and Tatianna had been in contact a few months prior. From the looks of it, Tatiana was hoping the two could pick up where they left off and Jake replying, ‘I’ll think about it,’ then it was silent until this past week where Tatiana sent texts asking when they could meet up. Jake, however, responded it wasn’t a good time and believed the two should stay friends.

“Y/n,” Jake started, glancing back between her and Tatiana, which only made her more perplexed. Unable to decipher what he was thinking. “Just please, wait right here.” He gently squeezed her arm, brushing their fingers together as he let go. Then before she could say anything, Y/n watched Jake gently escort Tatiana away from the docks. They went a good distance away to where Y/n was unable to hear the two. With Jake’s back to her, Y/n’s view was of the red head’s angry expression as she pushed her finger into Jake’s chest.

She saw him gently raise his hands, stepping away to escalate the situation. Y/n’s head spun, feeling a wave of nausea and the woman grabbed her water bottle from the ground. In a fast pace, Y/n stepped off the dock and onto the path leading back to the clubhouse. Once a distance away she broke out into a run, unaware if Jake saw her leave considering his back was to her. This was confirmed when she didn’t hear him call out for her.

Sprinting past the clubhouse, Y/n made a beeline for her cabin. Throwing the door open she moved past the living room not caring if anyone was there and straight to her bedroom where she locked the door behind her, pressing her back against it and sliding down to the floor to finally catch her breath.

Her water bottle had been drained, sweat coating her forehead and tears threatening to spill. Covering her mouth, Y/n refused to let the sob forming in her throat to release. There was no time to let her heartbreak. Not when the showcase was fast approaching.

The showcase.

“Fuck,” she sniffed, kicking off her shoes in the process. Of course it had to be that day all blows to hell. The perfect world she thought she finally obtained crashing down.

Of course she was being dramatic. Her life was shy from perfect, and this was another dent in the walls she tried to build.

She kept thinking of Jake. Willing herself to not jump to conclusions. He was clearly taken aback by Tatiana’s appearance. Even more when she called herself his girlfriend. Jake appeared rather offended by the accusation they were still together. Bottom line of the story: there was tension--especially animosity--between them, unfinished business if Y/n had to guess.

Whatever it was, she couldn’t bear to witness it. Right now she needs to think with a blank mind. And with Jake already spamming her phone, the solution for peace and quiet was to turn off her phone. Going as far as to power off her apple watch and not have music play while she showered.

The tears slowly cascaded while Y/n stood beneath the water. It was eerie with the silence, but it assisted with the clearing of her thoughts. Once clean Y/n dressed in comfy clothes and decided to nap for the remainder of the day. The morning had drained her, and until it came time to get ready for her dance with Jake--which she already dreaded--Y/n willed herself to sleep imagining what the day had been if his ex had never stepped foot on the docks.

“Need some help?” Y/n jumped, the hair clip falling from her hand. In the mirror she found Nat staring back at her with a sympathetic smile. “You look like you could use a hand.”

“Thanks,” she picked up the clip, holding up for Nat, who took it in her hand and stood behind Y/n. Gathering her hair up, Nat styled it in a messy but pretty updo.

“You seem tense for someone so used to the spotlight by now.”

A frown appeared, “It’s always nerve racking going on stage in front of people no matter how long you’ve done it.” Nat wasn’t buying it.

“Wanna talk about it? I know it’s more than a few nerves rustling your feathers, Y/n.”

Biting her lip, the dancer shrugged. “It wasn’t meant to be, Nat. Simple as that.” Sadness washed over her for the millionth time since that morning. She hasn’t seen Jake since, only replying to his several texts after a dozen unanswered calls to confirm she would still do the showcase.

Although part of her thought about backing out.

“What exactly happened?” Nat softly asked, moving to now help Y/n on her makeup. She was going for a simple look so she lightly concealed, blushed, highlighted and added some minimal eye makeup.

“Everything felt so amazing” she started, looking up as Nat dabbed the beauty blender under her eyes. “After we did the lift at the lake, we talked for hours on the dock and when he walked me back to the cabin….he told me how he felt about me,” Y/n could still feel the tingles on her lips, “and we kissed.”

Nat withheld squealing, knowing it was a bad moment considering it didn’t end the way she hoped for her best friend. Now she was conspiring on how to get payback on Jake. Filled with sudden disdain.

“The next few days went by--like I was walking on cloud 9. The way he looked at me, Nat,” Y/n connected their eyes, “It was magical.” Nat brushed powder onto her cheeks, followed by light blush and highlighter.

“And then what happened.”

Y/n’s shoulders dropped, making her slouch, “Jake’s ex showed up this morning.” Nat’s hand froze, a second passing before continuing its movement. “They broke up last year, but I guess they were in the works of getting back together. Because she was very vocal about it--not shy of asking who the fuck I was and why was I with her boyfriend.”

“And what was Jake’s reaction?”

Y/n waited until after Nat finished sweeping a thin coat of eyeliner to answer, “He denied it--was very shocked when she showed up out of the blue. Said that she ended things because he refused to choose her over his career. Then she went on about how they were talking things out--that a few months ago he said he’d think about it.” Y/n thought back to the texts, “She showed me the messages from this week. He rejected her invite to meet up and said that they should remain friends. Then he pulled her aside to talk where I couldn’t hear. I sorta left after that.”

Nat grabbed the mascara, “You didn’t wait for him to explain?”

“Could you blame me?” Y/n rebutted, a little on the defense but not saying it in a mean tone. “I was dealing with a hundred emotions. Confusion, embarrassment, shame, sadness, anger. I wanted to cry, I wanted to yell. But the only thing I could do was shut down and walk away.”

Nat said nothing, spraying Y/n’s face with a setting mist before handing her the tube of her favorite lipstick.

“I know,” Y/n groans, “I should’ve stayed--to at least hear him out. But I didn’t want to face the humiliation if it were true.”

“And if it’s not true?” Nat suggested, “What if he was genuine and they really are done? Where does that leave you two?”

Blotting the color onto her lips, Y/n capped the tube and threw it into her makeup bag with a shug, “I don’t know, Nat. We’ll find out tonight I guess.” Taking one last glance in the mirror, she added, “That’s if he shows up--which I doubt he won’t. He wouldn’t want to let Collins down.” leaning back in the char, Y/n turns to her friend. “Thanks for the hair and makeup.”

Nat patted her shoulder, “anytime. You look beautiful. That dress was made for you.” Y/n bore a light pink dress with a flowy skirt and corset styled top. It was similar to the one Baby wore in Dirty Dancing, ironically enough, but unique in its own way. She paired it with simple dance shoes.

“Thank you, Nat.”

A thought suddenly came to the brunette, “Hey, did you ever hear back from that audition?”

There was no hiding her grin, Y/n looked like a child having just received a gift from Santa, “I got a call back. They’re having me fly to L.A. next week to dance for them again.” Nat jumped from her seat, squealing and pulling the woman into a hug.

“Ah that’s amazing! Congratulations--I’m so so happy for you!!”

“Thank you,” Nat’s happiness was contagious, making Y/n giggle as they swayed side to side. “I can’t believe I’m so close.”

“I knew you’d get it,” Nat maveled, playfully pinching Y/n’s side making her swat at her hand.

The happy moment was interrupted right on cue as Mr. Collins rushed in. “There you are!” He was frantic, clipboard in hand. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Have you seen Mr. Seresin?” Y/n’s heart dropped.

“No,” was her response, heat coating her skin. “I thought he was here already.” Collins took a peek at his watch, groaning in annoyance.

“You guys are the last ones so that gives me hope he’s just running late,” Motioning for Y/n to follow him, the man leads the two out of the makeshift dressing room. “You’ll wait by the end of the side stage while the other performers have their turn. Then I’ll announce--hopefully both of you--and we’ll call this showcase a success. Which by the way,” he spins around, stopping Y/n in her tracks, “Do you happen to have a backup plan by any chance if our friend decides to be a no-show?”

Y/n stuttered lightly, hands up in a ‘Not really?’ She goes, “I mean I can whip something up--Not to toot my own horn but I’m pretty good at what I do and will dance to any music you give me.”

“Fantastic,” Collins snaps his finger, “We’ll work with that.” Spinning back again, Collins high tails it to the stage, Y/n taking claim to a chair a few paces from the steps. She spotted Nat seated with her family, Y/n’s own folks at a table in the far back. Almost like they were hiding from the rest of the guests, causing her heart to sink further.

Collins opened the showcase with an animated greeting to the audience. After some announcements and thanks to staff and sponsors who helped put the showcase together, he introduced the first of 10 performers on the list. Nearly all were the teens and children Y/n taught with Jake, the woman standing from her chair to cheer them on. At the eighth performance she froze at the sight of the blonde man behind the curtain. He hadn’t seen her yet, so Y/n ducked back to her chair, peeking slightly to find him conversing with Collins.

‘Well looks like I’m not getting out of this one,’ she thought to herself.

When the second to last performer appeared, Y/n found Nat in the audience. The two shared a look, Nat able to see the unease seeping off Y/n, and throwing her thumbs up in hopes to relieve some of it. The (y/h/c) shook her head slightly, but appreciated the gesture nonetheless with a small smile.

Mr. Collins glides to the stage one final time, “And now,” a quick glance to his clipboard, then to the side of the stage opposite of Y/n, a smile curling on his lips. “We have a very special presentation from two people who were kind enough to help me put this whole shabang together,” raising a hand out he announces, “Please welcome the beautiful and ever so talented, here to bring you the time of your life, Jake Seresin and Y/n L/n!!”

There was a light applause from the adults overshadowed by the children, teens, staff members, and Natasha. Y/n’s parents were unreactive, glancing at her siblings wondering if they knew to which they received shrugs.

Still sitting in a chair just off the stage, not moving despite the lights flashing on her, Y/n’s head was down. The door was not far. She could easily make an escape. But she felt eyes on from those within view and felt trapped. To run now would be a lifetime of embarrassment and shame.

“C’mon, Y/n,” she scolded under her breath. “It’s just one dance.” "Then you can go back to New York and pray this whole thing never happened.”

As the thought left her mind, footsteps came toward her, and Y/n glanced up to find Jake, dressed in black slacks and buttoned down enough to make a girl weak in the knees, staring down at her with an expression that took her breath away. It was as though they were the only two in the room, much like in the studio. Everyone else simply disappeared. Leaving two people who danced around feelings for years only to come together at that very moment.

Whatever hostility Y/n had for Jake was gone. She saw the pure love in his eyes. Pleading with her to give him a chance.

Simply holding his hand out to her, Jake held her gaze and spoke clearly for everyone to hear, “Nobody puts Y/n in a corner.” Had her heart not been beating at 100 miles per second, Y/n would’ve laughed at the reference. Considering how fitting it was to their situation.

The beginning lyrics of the song echoed as Jake led her to the middle of the stage. Already igniting applause from the audience who recognized it. “Now I’ve had the time of my life.” An arm snaked around her waist, pulling her to him. Never once straying eye contact “No, I’ve never felt this way before.” Y/n dipped back, Jake keeping her from falling to the floor until she was upright, “Yes I swear, It’s the truth. And I owe it all to you.”

“‘Cause I’ve,” Jake came around to her left, Y/n bringing up a hand which his own followed the trail of her arm. She caressed the side of his face. His group of friends hooting and hollering, “had the time of my life. And I owe it all to you.” A gentle kiss was placed on her nose.

Cheers from their students erupted when Jake spun Y/n, bringing a smile to both their faces as they began their routine. “I’ve been waiting for so long. Now I’ve finally found someone to stand by me.” Natasha whistled from her seat, “Yeah!”

“We saw the writing on the wall. As we felt this magical fantasy.”

All through the dance Y/n never once stopped grinning. Jake’s aura, the nostalgia of the song, and the love she had for dance were contagious. “Now with passion in our eyes, there’s no way we could disguise it secretly.” Unbeknownst to the woman, her parents and siblings were watching in awe. Having been the first time they truly watched her perform. “So we take each other’s hands,” Jake spun her again, Y/n throwing her arms in the air, head swaying back and forth. “‘Cause we seem to understand the urgency.”

“Just remember,” the pace picked up. “You’re the one thing. I can’t get enough of. So I’ll tell you something,” Y/n was lifted, dress flowing as Jake twirled them in circles. The audience applauded with glee.

“I’ve had the time of my life. No, I never felt this way before.” The cheers heightened when the two pressed against each other, the sight very intimate. “Yes, I swear, it’s the truth. And I owe it all to you.” Jake snuck a kiss to her cheek, moving away to leap off the stage. “Hey, baby!” Y/n tilted her head back in laughter, fingers on the hem of her dress skirt and swaying to the beat.

“With my body and soul, I want you more than you’ll ever know. So we’ll just let it go, don’t be afraid to lose control, no.” It was Jake’s moment to shine. He fed off the energy of the crowd, winking at his boys in the back hyping him up. Y/n caught Natasha’s thumbs up, the two sharing a silent victory. “Yes I know what’s on your mind. When you say, ‘Stay with me tonight’.”

“Stay with me. Just remember,” Jake danced up and down the aisle, “You’re the one thing. I can’t get enough of. So I’ll tell you something,” locking eyes, they gave each other a nod. “This could be love,” staff helped Y/n off the stage, the woman bolting toward Jake, “because--.” Squeezing every muscle in her body, Y/n exhaled in relief as she was successfully lifted in the air.

“I’ve had the time of my life. No, I’ve never felt this way before.” It was a spectacular scene around them with everyone jumping from their seats, in awe of what they were witnessing. “Yes, I swear (yes I swear), it’s the truth. And I owe it all to you.”

Y/n giggled the whole way down, arms sliding over Jake’s shoulder who shared her happiness. “‘Cause I’ve had the time of my life. And I’ve searched through every open door,” Several people joined in the celebration. Spouses dancing together, children off beat but having the time of their life like the song called for. “‘Til I found the truth. And I owe it all to you.” Even Y/n’s parents managed to get on their feet.

Finally seeing their daughter for who she was.

“Are you okay?” he asked her, the first words spoken between the two. It made her heart skip, filled with an overwhelming surge of happiness.

“I feel like I’m on cloud 9,” the response had Jake chuckle, pulling her closer to him as he voiced, “me too, doll.”

They kept their gaze on one another, swaying chest to chest, the tune became softer, “Now I’ve had the time of my life. No I never felt this way before (never felt this way),” Jake’s hand caressed her cheek, Y/n leaning into it. “Yes, I swear, It’s the truth (It’s the truth),” the two leaned in at the same time, Bill Medley’s voice belting the final lyric of the bridge, “And I owe it all to you!”

The kiss set off a million fireworks. Just like it did the first time. They didn’t know if the cheers around them were intended for the two, but they didn’t stop the kiss to find out. Y/n’s hand covering Jake’s on her face, brushing her fingers over his knuckles, “I’ve had the time of my life. No, I never felt this way before (never felt this way). Yes, I swear, it’s the truth (it’s the truth). And I owe it all to you.” Pulling away, Jake’s touch remained.

“Be my dance partner,” were his words, pushing through the ending chorus. ‘Be mine,’ “Forever.”

“‘Cause I’ve had the time of my life. And I’ve searched through every open door.”

Y/n brushed her lips against his. Uttering nothing more than a simple, “Yes.”

“‘Til I found the truth. And I owe it all to you…”

…………..

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