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#thank you for sharing your thoughts with me!!!!!
kenntolog · 18 hours
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hello, dear author! i do feel like that loser gf is the kind of person that can’t say no so some of her classmates took advantage of that, and of course, loser gf won’t notice that but sukuna would. can you write something about that? i’m just so inlove with the way you write about the two of them :) thank you!
𝝑𝝔 an: hello, my sweet reader!! thank you so much <33 hope you enjoy!!
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anyways, so i agree with your statement.
sukuna adores and kinda hates how kind you are to everyone around you, no matter what. because people are mean and they like to use kind people, y’know? :((
and he sees it very clearly with your classmates from the classes which he doesn’t share with you because no one dares approach you with that kind of request with sukuna around. it’s not that sukuna intentionally scares them, but he marks his territory well with an arm thrown over your shoulders and an intimidating expression on his face whenever he isn’t particularly focused on you.
but either way, sukuna still catches onto the fact that people around you are using you. of course, he notices that you’re writing in someone else’s notebook and sometimes you stay late doing a lot of stuff and whenever he wonder what’re you up to, you just mumble something about doing ‘(enter classmate’s name)’s something something’, and if at first it’s not that concerning, he kind of starts suspecting a little later.
mostly because your sense of responsibility doesn’t let you ditch homework for a while to spend time with him, but also why the fuck would you do someone else’s homework?
soon enough sukuna starts appearing by your side a little earlier than usual; and as he approaches, he manages to overhear some girls and sometimes guys being thankful to you for their stuff. after being a witness of a couple of more similar situations it clicks fast in his brain that it isn’t just a little help and you’re being to sweet to people who don’t deserve it at all.
so he takes the matter into his own hands and starts a conversation as soon as he sees you huffing over someone’s notebook once again.
“y’should really cut that out, loser.” he says with disdain in his tone, settling down on the bed by your side.
you look up at him with a questioning look, pen between your teeth, “hm?”
“they know you won’t say ‘no’ so they’re using you.”
sukuna’s tone implies that it’s an obvious thing and everyone can see it. everyone but you. you’re still doubtful though, brows pinching upwards as your bottom lip juts out defensively.
“but what if they really need help? and if they’re approaching me it means i’m helpful and smart, right? and maybe they wanna be friends! right, ‘kuna?”
he purses his lips and silently shakes his head no.
that makes you think about all of the times people came to you for help. same people who laughed at the way you stuttered during presentations, same people who gave you tasteless looks from afar and thought you wouldn’t notice. same people who never really talked to you if it didn’t mean asking a question about lesson or something like that.
but they were being so nice when asking for help with their work! some even joked around before asking and you couldn’t help but think that maybe you were doing something right? as much as you didn’t want to do more work, you didn’t want people to think you were mean or rude, which kind of concealed the fact that those people were the unkind ones.
you come to that realisation pretty quickly, putting away the notebook in your hands as you look up at sukuna, “oh.”
“yeah.”
“that’s kinda mean, ‘kuna.”
“yeah, baby,” he sighs heavily, pleased with you, and tugs you closer so you can rest your head on his chest. “i gotta teach you how to say no, but for now, i’ll help you deal with those shitheads tomorrow, alright?”
“alright.”
needless to say, as soon as someone approaches you the next day to ask about their request — boom, sukuna appears out of nowhere and tells them to fuck off. and you gradually learn that it’s okay to say no, whatever the request or reasoning is, it’s really fine.
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sodaabaa · 19 hours
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shadows and spirits, part two
azriel x reader reader is azriel's mate but she hasn't accepted the bond yet due to her fear of azriel himself.
tw: nsfw, smut, brief mentions of childhood trauma, edging, oral, restraint.
part one
a/n: holy shit y'all, azriel made me go feral with this one. enjoy ;)
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“You won’t be able to stay away from him much longer,” Feyre teased. When one night stands and self-pleasure proved to be unsuccessful, Y/N gave up trying to satisfy herself altogether. Instead, ignoring the throbbing between her legs by staying as busy as she could – filling her days with extra shifts at the bar and frequent after-work drinks with Feyre. 
“Shut up.” “That’s no way to speak to your High Lady,” She gasped, a hand on her chest in feigned shock. 
Y/N scoffed, “Don’t you have places to be, my lady?” 
She waved a hand, “What could possibly be more important than watching you try to ignore how frustrated you are?”
She rolled her eyes, “I’m fine,” she said through gritted teeth. Feyre gave her a look that said ‘sure you are’ but she didn’t bring it up again. The two spent the night drinking, Y/N listened as Feyre drunkenly ranted about Rhys and Nesta’s most recent topic of debate – and by debate, she meant they nearly mauled each other to death. Y/N couldn’t help the curiosity nagging at her.
“What’s he been doing?” She finally asked.
“Sulking. Brooding. The usual.” 
Y/N nodded, for some reason she was unconvinced that the Spymaster hadn’t been up to anything.
“He doesn’t show it – much less say it – but your fear, it’s messing with him,” Feyre confessed. 
She didn’t say anything, opting for another shot instead. 
“He’s been waiting for a mate for five hundred years, Y/N. And he’s had a hard life. He shares your complaints about Illyrians because he was subjected to their cruelty just as you and your mother were. I know he can be intimidating but if you trust me at all, trust that you would be in good hands with him as your mate.”
They finally parted, a dangerous amount of alcohol in their systems as they walked off. Y/N stumbled her way to her apartment. She could’ve sworn the alleyway between the buildings were darker but she chalked it up to being drunk off her mind. When she finally reached her destination, she collapsed on her couch, exhausted. The alcohol had done a good job at dulling the incessant throbbing – so much so that she finally got a few hours of rest before dreams of a man entrenched in shadows, head between her legs, startled her awake. 
Damn you, Shadowsinger.
She rubbed her thighs together, the images of her dream flashing before her eyes. A hand traveled down her stomach, trailing to the spot between her legs she was beginning to resent. She slipped her fingers underneath her panties, giving in to the nagging arousal as she worked the spot. His face flashed before her eyes and she cursed, removing her hands and sitting up. Y/N decided to take a cold shower, if only to punish herself for thinking of that damned Illyrian. Shadows shifted in the corner and she stilled. She had no idea how his shadows worked but she had a creeping suspicion he used them as his eyes and ears.
“What happened? Too scared to come and see me yourself so you send your shadows instead?” The shadows went still and Y/N thought maybe she had imagined their movement. She shook her head, and just as she was about to walk away, a tendril of shadow reached for her hand, reluctant to touch her but it looked curious. She reached out, fingertips brushing the shadow before it retreated through the cracks of her door, disappearing into the light.
After a long, scaldingly hot shower, Y/N decided to stay home for the day because of the pounding headache thanks to her and Feyre’s drinking session the night before. She sighed as she sunk into her bed, wearing only a fluffy bathrobe, content to lounge in bed the rest of the day. Unfortunately, someone had other plans. A knock at her front door startled her from her relaxed daze. She groaned, unwilling to get up and answer the door. Another knock, this time accompanied by a velvety voice.
“What happened? Too scared to come and face me?” 
She muttered a curse under her breath and she stood, wrapping the robe just a little tighter around her body for good measure. She cracked the door open, just enough to peek through.
“What do you want, I’m in the middle of something.” He looked down at her, brows quirked up in amusement. He was holding a brown paper bag against his torso. 
“In the middle of a bad hangover?” He motioned to the bag, “I have the world’s best cure, right here.” 
She pulled the door open, ever so slightly, “I’m listening.”
“Let me in and it’s all yours.”
She considered his offer for a moment, lips twisted in silent contemplation. The two of them together, in a rather small apartment. Alone. What could possibly go wrong? “Fine – but no funny business. Keep your hands to yourself,” She pointed an accusing finger at him to which he responded with raised hands in mock surrender. She let him in, the door much too small to accommodate his tall frame and those absurdly large wings but he wiggled himself in anyway.
She snatched the bag from him and plopped down on the couch, not waiting for him to find a seat. She opened the bag and her mouth watered at the smell of the variety of greasy, fried foods he brought her. He must have seen the way her shoulders dropped in relief as she dug into the food, emitting a laugh from the normally stone faced man. She placed the bag on the table between them and pulled out the cartons of the fragrant food inside.
“What, I’m starving and hungover,” She said, in between bites. In the midst of her feast, she realized this was everything she’d usually order from Rita’s. Wedges of spicy fried potatoes, garlicky bites of chicken, and onion rings. 
“You should drink some water,” He pulled a bottle of water from the bag. 
She shook her head, “Nuh-uh, I’m not done yet.” His eyes narrowed, “Water. Now.” 
Her eyes widened at the sudden change in tone, authoritative and stern (she didn’t want to admit it made her knees go weak and her stomach flutter). She reached to take the bottle from him but he pulled it back towards himself, causing her to stumble forward
“Dick,” She spat.
“If you want some, it’s right here,” He motioned downwards.
She leaned forward and snatched the bottle, taking a few dramatic gulps to ensure he wouldn’t pester her about drinking more later. 
She sat back, hands over her stomach as she groaned, “I ate too much.” 
He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a genuine smile. She hated to admit it but she was beginning to enjoy hearing his laugh – and being the reason behind it. His shadows swirled around him, some of them pulling away from him but not quite able to reach their desired destination. 
“How do they work?” He quirked an eyebrow in question.
“The shadows.”
“Ah. They obey me,” He said with a nod, the shadows slithered over his form and across the room. They hovered over her legs as he watched. 
She gave him a look, “Well I could see that. But are they – alive? Do they have a mind of their own? Or are they just an extension of you? Did you capture them or were you somehow born with them?” She rambled.
He smiled at her sudden interest in him and his shadows. The shadows returned to their master. 
“They’re sentient – if that’s what you mean by alive. They can feel things, sense things to an extent. Sometimes they slip from under my control but it’s easy to reign them back in,” He paused, contemplating how to answer her other questions. “My father used to lock me up in the dark. I would talk to the shadows, to feel less alone. One day, I suppose, the shadows decided to talk back. They became a part of me, tied to my pain – insistent on protecting me, helping me,” He explained, he was looking down at his hands now. She winced at his confession, at the suffering he must have endured as a child.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
He smiled again, “Don’t be. It was centuries ago,” he waved off.
She held his gaze, entranced by those hazel eyes. She cleared her throat, suddenly aware of how close they were, only a small coffee table separating them. 
“Thank you for the food,” She said, flustered under his gaze, “You didn’t eat anything–,” He cut her off before she could finish.
“I’m not hungry for food.” 
She stilled. Her heart pounded in her ears. “I should go, I only wanted to make sure you were okay after you and Feyre drank your weight in alcohol,” He said. She sighed in relief. 
“So you were spying on me!”
He shrugged, “You can’t expect me not to, especially if you’re drunk out of your mind.”
He stalked over to the door, wings tucked in tight to avoid bumping into anything.
“Don’t dream too much of me,” He said with a knowing smirk. She shoved him out the door and (semi) slammed it shut, exhaling as she slumped against the door.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Y/N tossed and turned in bed that night, unable to ignore the throbbing between her legs any longer. She sat up, thinking about the man who brought her food just a few hours ago. It wasn’t his dominating presence or his flirty comments that riled her up anymore – it was his vulnerability, his honesty. He confided in her, paid attention to the little details, made sure she was safe and taken care of. She peered at the corners of her room, looking for the shadows that writhed with life. When she spotted movement in the corner, she reached a hand out to it. The shadow moved like smoke, twisting and curling towards her outstretched hand, weaving in between her fingers. She giggled, it felt odd – the shadows weren’t solid, it felt almost like a cold breeze, she couldn’t quite grasp it but she could feel it there, real. 
“I’m ready,” She spoke softly. The shadow twirled around her fingers before slipping out of the room to return to its master – eager to relay the news. 
She sat in bed, knees to her chest as she waited anxiously for Azriel’s arrival. She heard the door unlock and saw the shadows pool into her room before he walked in. He looked at her with pure hunger in his eyes. 
“I couldn’t sleep,” She confessed. 
“I think I can help with that,” He stalked over to her, body pulsing with energy. She scooted back, making space for him on the bed.
“Don’t I have to feed you first? Feyre said–,” He grabbed her feet from under her, yanking to straighten her out onto the bed. The force caused her to fall back against the bed. 
“I have all I need right here,” He kneeled at the edge of the bed while his hands trailed up her bare legs.
Heat rushed to her face as he left a trail of kisses down her stomach, making his way down to her thighs – and Oh. He nipped at the inside of her thigh, dangerously close to the pulsing heat of her core.
“Are you sure?” He asked, his breath tickling her skin as he looked up at her.
She nodded, “I accept you as my mate, Azriel.” 
That was all he needed. Azriel ripped off her shorts and panties in one motion, shadows thrumming to life behind him as he devoured her. His mouth found her core, his tongue lapping at the wetness that had already formed. He chuckled, causing vibrations to shoot up Y/N’s spine.
“I haven’t even touched you and you’re soaking.” She whined in response. His tongue made a slow, tantalizing trail up her core before he settled on sucking that aching spot, instantly bringing her close to the edge. His hands roughly gripped the flesh of her thighs, keeping her spread open to his deliberations. She moaned his name, signaling how close she was to tipping over that blissful edge. He pulled away, causing her hips to buck up at the sudden interruption. 
She whined, “Azriel?” 
He placed gentle kisses moving up her stomach, hands roughly grabbing her breasts eliciting a gasp from Y/N. His tongue circled her left nipple before sucking on the gentle bud – electrifying her even further.
He pulled away, finally reaching her lips as he devoured her.
“Didn’t I say,” he broke the kiss, “that I would make you beg for mercy?” His lips returned to hers briefly, “that I would remind you of your obstinance?” 
She looked up at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to say. 
“Have you resigned to your fate?” She nodded.
“Good girl,” He whispered.
He pulled back from her, lifting his shirt off and sitting up to undo his pants. She swallowed as her eyes trailed down his body. He was made of pure muscle, tattoos black as night swirling across his torso made his muscular form even more prominent. Her eyes trailed down to his hips, licking her lips involuntarily. 
“You’re drooling,” He said.
Her eyes shot back up to his, taking in the amusement written across his face.
“I was not,” She defended herself (rather pathetically). He only hummed, unconvinced and amused at the flustered girl before him.
She looked down at him once he finally revealed himself. Her eyes widened — in fear? Apprehension? She nervously wiggled her hips underneath him, unsure of how he could possibly fit. 
“I don’t think—,” She was cut off by Azriel’s dangerously low voice. He leaned down, hot breath trailing up her neck, “You’re gonna take every inch like the good little slut that you are,” He whispered against her and then placed a few burning kisses behind her ear, causing her stomach to churn.
He smirked against her skin, pleased at how timid she suddenly became. He lined himself up against her, Y/N’s breaths now rapid in anticipation. He pushed himself forward, ever so slightly, allowing her to adjust to his tip. Her eyes rolled back at the sudden invasion, unable to control the lewd sounds that came out of her mouth. He pushed in deeper, drawing out another moan from the girl beneath him. She put a hand on his chest to stop him from going deeper, already overwhelmed with a wave of intense pleasure, it rolled through her core and nearly broke her. And this was just the beginning. He leaned his head down, lips finding sensitive spots on her jaw, her neck, trailing down to her collarbone while he waited for her to adjust. She clenched around him involuntarily, eliciting a snarl from the man. His shadows snaked up her legs, holding them apart as he sunk deeper. She gasped as he went deeper, inching closer and closer to her wall. She screamed out in pleasure, legs struggling against the shadows, hips bucking underneath him. 
“Az! Please, it’s too much,” She gasped. 
He hit her walls, pleased with her loss of composure. He pulled out and with a kiss on her lips, sunk right back in, all in one swift motion that had Y/N gasping for air. He continued to push into her as she writhed and moaned and clawed at him. Her brain had effectively shut off, the only thing she could feel, the only thing she could think about was his cruel, punishing cock pounding in and out of her. 
“You were made to take all of me, you know that? The Cauldron created you, just for me,” He growled, punctuating his words with hard thrusts, “To be my plaything, my mate,” another thrust, “I bet you hate the idea of being bred but look at you, your cunt is milking my cock, going against everything you thought you believed in, desperate to be filled with my cum.”
She arched her back as he continued brutalizing her. Overwhelmed, she tried to push him off, give her space to breathe but he responded with shadows snaking up her arms, holding her against the bed, entirely at his mercy. She was fully restrained now, legs held wide apart, arms above her head. Her moans increased in pitch and pace, her body on the brink of total, ecstatic relief. A few tears slipped down her cheeks, Azriel kissed them away as he increased his rhythm. Her mouth agape, in a silent scream as he tore into her. 
“Should I let you cum, hm?” He watched her intently, taking in every moan, every whimper, all the ways her face contorted in response to his hands on her body, his cock buried deep inside her. 
“You’ve been such a good girl, taking me so well, and you’ve been on edge for weeks now,” He looked at her with a devilish grin. She whimpered. 
“Beg for it, baby,” His voice was tauntingly soft. She scrunched her face, unable to make any sound let alone speak as he fucked her. He knew this as he slowed, bringing Y/N ever so slightly down from the high she could almost feel. 
“No!” She called out desperately, “please, please Azriel. Don’t stop. I need to cum, please let me cum!” She screamed, her voice hoarse. 
He picked up the pace again, rewarding her obedience. 
“I’m sure that pretty mouth can do a lot better,” He chastised, “What do you need, Y/N, who do you need?”
“You! I need you Az, please! I need you to make me cum! Please, I’m begging you,” she pleaded. 
“Who am I?” 
When she didn’t answer, he pushed into her with an especially rough thrust.
“My mate!” She moaned in response.
“Who do you belong to?” 
“You! Az, I belong to you!” Her voice strained as she inched painfully close to release. 
He groaned as he picked up the pace, at this point Y/N saw stars, her teary eyes shut as Azriel’s final thrusts drove her over the edge, unable to make sound or focus on anything but the excruciating pleasure possessing her body. Her back arched as she panted through her orgasm. She felt a hot release inside her as Azriel groaned against her, his pace slowed and his body going taut as he finished too. The pleasure hadn’t stopped, it rolled through her like aftershocks of an earthquake, drawing out soft whimpers and moans. 
“What do you say?” A hand gripped her chin.
“Thank you,” She said meekly. 
He smiled and finally pulled out of her. His forehead resting against hers as their breaths came in and out. His arms snaked around her waist as he rolled them over to the side. His wings cocooning over her like a blanket, shadows resting lazily across their bodies. He kissed the top of her head as she snuggled into his chest. 
“I’m gonna be so sore tomorrow,” She whimpered. 
“Good. It’ll teach you not to mouth off or deny me of what’s mine ever again,” He chuckled against her. 
She didn’t have the strength to reply with some witty comment, she merely snuggled in closer, basking in his warmth and drifting off to the most restful sleep she’d ever had. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Azriel woke up to his shadows lazily trailing over his mate’s bare body. He admired her sleeping form, grateful for the moment of peace before he was forced to head off to work. His shadows heard this thought, sulking against her body possessively, unwilling to leave her so soon. 
I know, I don’t wanna leave her either. 
The shadows tickling her skin caused her to stir but not quite enough to wake up. His face turned stern, the shadows begrudgingly returning back to their master. She’d need her rest for when Azriel returned so he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and hastily wrote a note to explain his absence. The shadows reluctantly followed as Azriel left her room, but they stopped in the kitchen — insistent on starting a pot of coffee to brew along with some sliced fruits they set out on a plate. Azriel chuckled lightly at the shadows' instant attachment and show of affection to his mate. 
She’s mine, he teased. 
He felt the shadows bounce against his chest, trying to knock him off balance. He shook his head, exiting the apartment with the shadows rushing to keep up behind him.
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lazyjellyfish300 · 2 days
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(pls + ty) a funny/fluffy lil drabble about miguel working up the courage to finally tell reader he’s spiderman and reader’s like “yeah dude i know” 😭
Hello love! Here ya go!! Hope you like it 😁🥰
I know.
Miguel O'Hara x gn!Reader
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CW: ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, ANGST, FLUFF
Word count 1.5k
@1-900-venusluvs @thatone-writer
------
Miguel's suit dissipates in the bathroom, arriving home late after the police scanner alerted him to a heist at a bank uptown, freezing when he hears a creak and a sleepy groan coming from the bedroom you two shared. 
The hour late, during which most diurnal beings would be asleep. Except for him.
He pauses, Adam's apple raised in his throat, until he hears the reassuring silence once more, letting out a deep exhale of relief as he opens the door. 
You were tucked into dreamland, or so he thought. Bed dipping slightly with his weight as he got in next to you. 
"How was the overtime?" You ask in a groggy voice, still turned away from him. 
Alarmed, Miguel looks at your back then down at the floor as if he's calculating something in his head. 
Shock, how did you....wait....oh. 
He forgot that his cover up lie this time was that they needed him to come in for overtime at the office. 
"It was okay." Miguel shifts over to you, laying his arm across your abdomen. "I'm sorry I woke you up." 
A smile tugs at your lips. "The office won't be calling tomorrow morning, right?" 
Miguel returns a lazy smile at you. He would do everything he can to be there for you to make up for it. Although, it would be a tall ask of Nueva York's unpredictable crime patterns.
"I am sure that they won't." He hums. "I'll have the cinnamon rolls and orange juice ready for your book club tomorrow like I promised." 
You feel a grateful buzz in your heart. Even though your boyfriend could be busy, he wasn't forgetful. "Thanks, babe."
He looks down at you, brain wracked with guilt at lying to you again. He knew he couldn't keep you in the dark that much longer. He can't go on lying to you while you did absolutely nothing wrong. You kept his household up and running, did your cute little hobbies and entertained your rowdy group of friends you were always hanging out with, giving him a love that he was certain was never meant to find him in this lifetime, accepting all of his flaws in the messy packaging it came with, never once making him feel bad about who he was or his emotional struggles. You just patiently held his hand and waited for him in your cozy shared bed like you always did. 
And how did he repay you? Oh, only by lying to you for the entire six months you were dating about his entire existence. His second secret occupation and double identity as Spider-Man, if his talons and his crimson eyes he hid behind contacts weren't glaringly obvious enough. 
His lip trembles as his eyes rake over you, back in dreamland where you belonged. Something about seeing you so tranquil like this made it the final straw for him. 
He was going to tell you, tomorrow. And you'd hate him for the rest of your life. Six months of bliss, a mere glimpse into the happy life you could have shared together, all shot down the drain with just two words. You deserved better and he knew it.
Selfishly, though, he kept up the act because the idea of doing life without you would've drained his world of all color and meaning quicker than his door slammed, the closet emptied of all signs of you except the sheets barely clinging to the scent you left behind, your taillights disappearing down his street for the final time while he reeled inside the home you built together from the shock of having all of you and then none of you all at once. 
A couple tears fall down his face as he pulls your sleeping frame against his chest, too distraught to sleep. Savoring what it feels like to hold you just one more night before you slip through his fingers and he'll once again know a life where he must go on without it. 
----
Since Miguel didn't sleep all night, he had no issues getting up in the morning to slide the cinnamon rolls in the oven. Filling up the fancy pitcher with orange juice he knew you liked to use for the guests for "fancy" occasions. 
As he watches you bounce anxiously around the apartment, he feels horrible knowing that he's about to drop this bomb on you right before your friends come over, but he simply can't go another minute without being suffocated by the weight of his secret. 
If his heart was going to get utterly destroyed and the one sliver of a fragment of happiness he's ever known in this existence will slip back into the staggering ocean of nothingness, then better to do it now.
Do it now when your friends were on their way, your mind was awake, and you'd be surrounded by everything else you loved in life besides him to fall back on. He figures now will be the best time. 
"...Then we need to have the welcome chalkboard on this side so that way when they come in...." You mumble, shuffling to the left and take three steps back. "Okay perfect..." 
Miguel clears his throat. "We need to talk..." 
"Not now, sweetie....got book club in 20 minutes and no plate settings laid out and goodie bags still in the closet...." Your voice tapers off as you run back into the bedroom. 
"Oh, thank you for getting the cinnamon rolls and orange juice by the way!!!" 
Miguel hears the police scanner go off. A high speed chase underway in Brooklyn. He curses quietly, then feels his face go white. "Baby?" 
"What?!" You snap, slightly irritated and frozen in place, your clothes frazzled, balancing a box of neatly packed goodie bags themed after the book you're reading with some banners and streamers about to fall out of your arms. 
Here goes nothing. 
"I am Spider-Man." 
One of the goodie bags falls to the ground with a thwack. 
"And there are 12 inches in a foot." The plastic crinkles as you set the decorations on the countertop, pulling up a chair to tape a banner from one corner of the ceiling to another. 
Miguel feels like he's got whiplash. "What...?" 
"And my dad's a jerk." You pat a piece of tape to one end of the banner. "Also, smoking tobacco is bad for you!" 
Miguel feels like he's in the Twilight Zone as he slowly walks to the couch with invisible math equations floating around his head. 
"And the ending of Game of Thrones was a disappointment! And JonBenét Ramsey's family had something to do with her murder! And the Apollo 11 moon landing was the most highly televised event in human history!" 
Miguel swallows slowly. "You...you know?" 
You walk to where he's sitting, placing your hands on his shoulders. 
"In other news, water is wet. Yes, I know, baby. You think I didn't notice your contacts that you always leave by the sink? Or the amazing coincidence that every time there's an Earth shattering event on the news, my boyfriend just happens to be absent? Or when I do turn on the news, a guy with your exact height, build, and cute pair of buns is plastered front and center on the screen? Not many people are six feet nine inches tall, Mig." 
Miguel is speechless. 
"Also, normal people don't have the police scanner running all day." 
Miguel feels like he just jumped out of a plane, and 100 feet right before he was about to splatter all over the pavement, his parachute burst open. 
"You're...not mad?" 
You sigh. "No, I'm not mad." 
You cup his cheek.  How could you be mad at a face so sweet as his? Or the fact that your boyfriend's closest thing to a red flag was that he lied about public service and risking his life to save others in his free time. 
"I was just waiting for you to be honest with me about it. Please don't ever hold something like that in again." You kiss him and he melts. 
"I know what I signed up for when we started dating. I'm in it for the long haul and there's nothing that you could tell me that I wouldn't want to figure out together, okay?" 
Miguel breathes a sigh of relief. "I love you..." 
"I love you more." You hastily run back to the counter, setting out the goody bags and making the finishing touches to your lovely spread. 
"Don't you have a 2006 Chevy Malibu that you need to go apprehend?" 
He smiles. You're absolutely right. 
---
And as he looks back at the offending vehicle slowly rotating in a circle of his red webs hanging from a tree just 30 minutes later while NYPD scratches their heads and books the driver into jail, he feels his phone buzz in his pocket with a text from you. 
We're gonna need more cheese and crackers. Mind "swinging"by the store? 🕸️🕷️😏
The gals adored the cinnamon rolls btw! 
Good work, today, Spider-Man! I love you. Make sure you come home to me. ❤️
And from then on, he always would. 
----
🖤
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tiredmamaissy · 1 day
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Ralak te Sepawn ieyk’itan: Special Episode V
Something is Brewing
Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info
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🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞
Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's insanely talented creator @zestys-stuff. Thank you so much for allowing me to play around with your characters!
Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (25) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (20)
Warnings: explicit pregnancy smut, pregnancy fluff, pregnancy angst [for the plot], pregnancy [this chapter is entirely about pregnancy if you haven't caught my drift, just giving you guys a proper warning], age gap, mood swings, cravings, nausea, vomiting, reader is very clumsy, intimate/invasive medical treatment, rut cycle, sexual tension, pregnant sex, p in v, titty fucking, cum eating (m and f), oral sex (m and f), masturbation, exhibitionism (kinda, not really), lactation kink
Word Count: 17.5k (this takes the cake, i apologize)
Requested: Yes || No
Author’s Note: Hey guys! Thank you all for being so patient with me as usual. I had planned to post this chapter earlier, but with the help of @zestys-stuff, we made a last minute change to the chapter. This will definitely cause some changes in the next chapter, so I’m going to work on that right away. I won’t lie, I’m really nervous to publish this one. It's been a while and I’ve ventured into some new territory where I’ve introduced a couple of new themes and -drumroll- a new character. There are parts of this chapter that can possibly cause discomfort (technically, all of this could), so I urge you guys to proceed with caution and click off if you do feel uncomfortable in any way. Aside from that, it’s good to be back (again, lol) and I hope you enjoy!
Synopsis: A timeline of your pregnancy with Ralak’s child, shown through a series of flashbacks of your most prominent milestones—some of which foreshadow something bigger to come…
<- Previous -> Next
Pregnancy is tough. 
A beautiful blessing, but tough nonetheless. With its own set of hardships, uniquely tailored to your own being. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. A sore back, chest, ankles…the list is seemingly endless. The shift in moods, the fatigue. Adjusting to an entire new being growing inside you—one that sucks the nutrients straight from your bones and blood—has your body overcompensating.  
At first it was a dream. 
No life-changing symptoms. It was smooth sailing for the first few weeks. Life went on as usual. If anything, others were more reactive to your pregnancy than you were. Your skimwing became aggressive towards Ralak, snapping at him and whipping her tail, treating him as a threat rather than a companion. He was more than understanding, as it’s common for the protective instinct to kick in when the tsurak senses their rider is with child.  
More importantly, it was an urge that Ralak shared with the beast.
You watch as your tendrils intertwine with your skimwing, and how they come together with a rough tug. You let out a rugged breath and the beast beneath you starts to writhe. Ralak instinctively grasps at the harness to steady you and— 
Slash. 
Your trsuak whips her spiked tail at your mate, who blocks it with his strake.
“Shit.” You gasp, tugging at the leather strap and patting her neck to subdue her. “I thought I was in control. Are you alright?”
Ralak nods, his hair now soaked and plastered to his chest. He simply chuckles, respectfully and cautiously approaching the beast with an open hand. Despite this, your tsurak continues to thrash, repeatedly snapping her snout open and shut. Ralak clicks melodically a few times, and her pupils blow and constrict as she calms down. He strokes her snout with one hand, and lays his other on your thigh, gripping it lightly.
“She senses that you are with child.” 
“She does?”
“Yes. That is why she protects you. I understand the feeling.” His accent is thick on his tongue. 
——
Then the nausea came. It was… unbearable. Insufferable. It was almost frightful, actually. Not being able to stomach anything really brought down a sense of dread upon your shoulders. Most days, you found yourself worried about the budding life inside you more than yourself. 
Was he getting enough? Would he develop properly if you went another day without eating? 
Ralak was more worried about you, of course. Going to great lengths to find something you could stomach. Spoon feeding you as you laid down all day from the gut churning nausea. Washing the sick out of your hair when you missed the bucket at your bedside. Detangling and braiding it for you to keep it clean and out of your face. Releasing his pheromones—your only relief—just to put you to sleep at night. 
t.w. nausea, vomiting.
In the crisp night, a wave of nausea washes over you, waking you from your sleep. Typically, this is the only time you have a break from the nausea—your slumber. That, and the first ten minutes after throwing up.
You quickly hurl over, grabbing and heaving into your bedside bucket, something that's rightfully earned its spot at your side. Ralak jolts awake, sitting up behind you to gather your hair into his fist, rubbing your back as you retch. 
“Alrigght.” He hums lengthily. “Get it up.”
Finally, you stop. You gasp and pant for air, sitting up only to collapse back into him. “I h-hate this–haah.”
“I do, too.” He grits, reaching over you for the rag at your bedside, and wiping your mouth.
He hates seeing you so sick. He’s tried it all, and though he’s found a few foods that you can stomach, nothing seems stops the nausea. Well, that’s not entirely true.
Ralak relaxes his body, focusing on opening his scent glands to release his his pheromones. They slowly become stronger, calming you down and dulling the waves of nausea. He pulls you close to his warm body, reaching behind him for his kuru. 
“Tsaheylu.” He whispers yearningly, making the bond slowly. He sets a steady breathing pattern, slipping his hand over your tiny bump to caress it. The sickening feeling eases up enough for you to drift back to sleep, Ralak along with you.
——
Thankfully, Eywa lifted you of your säspxin [sickness] when you were about to come upon your third month of pregnancy. Cravings increased ten-fold almost instantly. On the occasion where you couldn’t keep it down—when the desperation was too much—you’d volunteer Ralak to eat it for you so that you could satisfy the craving vicariously through him.
“Eywa, that’s so good. One more bite.”
“Tanhí. Enough now.” He grumbles, feeling overly stuffed and almost queasy. 
You glance down at the purple hue of your connected kurus.
“Please...” Your eyes burn as they threaten to well with tears, and your bottom lip quivers, “…last one, promise.”
Ralak sighs, shoveling in another bite of boiled squid, chewing it slowly so you can savor the taste. You keep your eyes closed as he eats, tongue swirling in your mouth to swish your pooling saliva in your cheeks. And when he swallows, you swallow too, gulping down your spit. 
“Thank you.” You say shyly as you open your eyes, feeling bad for making him overeat now that you can really feel his fullness. 
It is my pleasure. Never feel bad. His accented voice tickles your brain. A smile spreads across your face, just as one does on his. 
——
And when you could keep it down, they were delightful when satiated. Keyword being satiated. It posed an issue when they were what Ralak called, ‘forest food’, or on a more rare occasion—‘sky people food’. Those were the insatiable ones. The ones he couldn’t just whip up for you. The times he'd come to you with his ears laid flat to his skull, admitting his defeat. Those were the moments where you felt something stronger than just disappointment. 
It left you gutted. 
You can’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. They’re hot and leave a sticky film on your skin, clumping your eyelashes together. It’s stupid. They’re stupid. Stupid tears, from a stupid cause. All because you want your grandmother’s stupid soup. Another thing the blessing of pregnancy has bestowed on you—big, intense feelings. 
As you soak in your bath, Ralak cooks dinner and you just know that whatever is in the pot is something that will make your stomach churn. You bury your face in the palms of your hands, trying to keep your snotty sobs to a minimum. It’s ridiculous, sobbing over something like this. It’s shameful, even. How can you be so ungrateful when this man goes to such lengths to care for you?
“Tanhì!” You hear his rough voice echo from the pod. 
You quickly wipe your face clean, and scramble for your loincloth and top, slipping them back onto your body. Finally, you fix your hair and force a smile to your face. As you get up to the marui, you’re met with the sight of Ralak stirring the soup pot over the firepit. Then the smell hits you. Typically the first thing to set off your nausea to begin with. It smells like—
Grandmother’s soup.
You stare at your mate wide eyed, taking a deep breath to savour it in your lungs. Outside of Ralak’s scent, nothing has smelled this good in months. And you swear you can already taste it on your tongue, the savoury flavour with the sweet aftertaste. 
“I asked your mother. Hope that is okay.” Ralak speaks casually as he serves you a bowl.
As you let out a harsh breath, your eyes burn as the tears come back with a vengeance. You sniffle once, twice—thrice, whimpering quietly as they roll down your cheeks. Ralak looks up at you, concern and honestly a smidge of confusion fixed to his face. Putting the bowl down, he stands and comes over to you, enveloping you in his arms. 
“I do not like to see you cry.” He hums, kissing the crown of your head. “Is it the smell? I will make you something different.” 
“N-No, no. It’s… it smells great. I’m sorry. I—I” You sputter, burying your face into his chest. 
“Then what is it, tìyawn [love]? What do you need?” Ralak cups your face and gently tilts your head upwards so he can look you in the eyes. “Tell me and it is yours.” 
“Thank you.” You croak, feeling your bottom lip curl over and kiss your chin. Now his facial expression is just pure confusion. He tuts in a comforting manner, pulling you back in close to his chest as he waits for you to settle, rocking side to side. 
“Alright, my little one. Shh–shh.”
——
Soon after, that soup pot made quite an appearance. It became your favourite dish, your favourite craving. Ralak made it just like grandmother, for the most part. There were a few omaticayan herbs missing, but outside of that it tasted like…home. At that point, you felt like you had this pregnancy thing down pat and could return to a semi-normal life. 
Everything was relatively the same, except a few obvious things—your growing bump and lack of heats. That was also a blessing, not having to go through a torturous heat every month. Though, you couldn’t say that for Ralak. 
As you neared the end of your third month of pregnancy, his pheromones grew stronger, wafting by you at random times of the day. At first you thought he was just doing it for you. Or, perhaps it was your heightened sense of smell. 
But the day came when his scent was so potent, it was as if it had stained your lips. There wasn’t a moment where you couldn’t smell the scent of your mate under your nose. That was the night you realised it was out of his control. That it was his rut coming. That was the night you confronted him at the bonfire. 
The night he looked at you like you were something to eat. 
— 
Right…there.
You catch the flicker of his eyes just before he lowers his head, shifting to that deep shade of blue. He keeps stealing a glance or two. Maybe even three, or more. It’s hard to keep count when he’s looking at you like this.
is piercing eyes, sultry and alluring, tempting you to crawl through these roaring flames just to get to him quicker. His demeanour. His stance and posture. His domineering leer. Whatever he—or his body—is doing, is working. 
He sits on the boulder, elbow perched on one thick thigh and a hand propped on the other. His hair covers his chestpiece, curled ends barely brushing against his defined ribcage. His bioluminescent freckles dance under the moonlight, his turquoise skin almost golden from the cast of the fire. It’s all so intimidating. He’s exuding dominance, practically looming over you despite him being seated. But there’s something about his aura, something darker.
“I can feel it, you know.” You speak casually, uncrossing your legs.
Ralak’s eyes snap up, boring into yours. He cocks a brow, keeping his eyes locked on you as you stand and walk towards him.
“Your rut. It’s close, isn’t it?”
This would be your first, real rut with him. Without the influence of your own heat. Ralak huffs a sigh, his eyes falling to the small bump that’s in his direct line of sight. Ralak watches as it seemingly grows bigger the closer you get. 
“You are showing.” His hands gently rest on your lower abdomen. Holding his shoulders, you slowly straddle him. 
“Answer me.” You whisper as you cup his face, tilting it upwards to make him look at you. “I want to be with you… and before you say it—” Ralak grits his teeth as he turns his head away, out of your hands.
“No.” 
“Ralak. I am your mate.” You retaliate through tight lips. You knew this would pose an issue. 
“Y/n.” He growls, turning his head to look you in the eyes. “You know my rut. Must I remind you that you are with child? It is final.” 
“I do know, and that’s why I won’t let you go through that alone, ever again.” Though your voice is stern, he can hear the tenderness in it. That this comes from a place of concern and love.
“I will not be in control.” Ralak admits as he shakes his head firmly, flicking his gaze back down to your belly. 
“Look…I made a plan.” You basically confess that you’ve been conjuring up ideas on how to endure this together all day. Although his eyes and hands remain fixed on your tummy, Ralaks ears perk up. He’s listening. 
“How do you feel about…being tied up?” 
Now you’ve got his attention, eyes snapping up to meet yours. The idea of being tied up isn’t entirely foreign to him. It’s something that his people use as a punishment for those who do wrong. He’s not opposed to it. Having a rut so intense is probably something to be punished for, anyways. 
“Hands behind your back…bound to the marui stilt. I will be the one in control. I will take care of you.”
You take his hands from your stomach and tuck them behind his back, your face now millimeters from his. Ralak fights the urge to kiss you. To free his hands from his back to grab your hips and shove your further down onto his growing bulge.
“...feed you…water you…bathe you.” Your voice falters as you swallow your spit. “...fuck you.” 
“...that so?” He whispers against your lips, heart thudding wildly behind his ribcage. 
You look in his eyes, and see that they tremble with constraint. He can’t hide it, the look on his face gives it away. He’s really struggling to think straight. To keep his answer as a firm no. And it doesn’t help that he’s on the cusp of his rut. He yearns to accept. Every fibre of his being wants this–wants you. You see it in his eyes, as they flicker like the flame behind you.
He just needs a little push. 
“We’ll take it slow…gently.” You roll your hips into him and feel his cock straining against his tewng. You lean in close, lips brushing against his as you speak into his mouth. “And, if anything happens… we’ll stop. No knotting.” 
His ears twitch. He’s considering it. Really, actually considering this. But how could he? How could he expect this of you in your state? He squeezes his eyes shut, frustrated and conflicted. And aroused. So fucking aroused that when he feels your lips drag against his cheek, your tongue tasting the lobe of his ear…your breathy whisper, “Pänutìng [Promise].”, he lets out a heated, shaky breath of defeat. Of surrender. 
That seals the deal.
Not now. Not yet. Ralak thinks to himself, fighting his urges.
The urge to mate—to pin you down and drive himself inside you. He must remain in control. For you. For your unborn. He sits on the floor, slumped against the stilt of the marui, bowed shoulders and a heavy, hung head. His skin, flushed, and eyes swollen—glowing a vibrant mauve. His hair haphazardly sticks to his sweltering skin as his hands lethargically twiddle with the braided twine behind his back. 
Groggy, you strain to open your eyes and quickly scan your surroundings. Ralaks pheromones cloud the room, engulfing you with their overpowering scent. As you sit up, the bed creaks and Ralak lifts his head, allowing it to flump limply back into the stilt. Extra lidded eyes and tensed brows, he breathes through his mouth. He wills himself to speak, but he’s heavy and sluggish as if he were three bottles deep.
“Ralak.” Your voice is wary and full of concern. Your eyes continue to trail down his body, landing on the undeniable, taut bulge in his loincloth. His cock strains against the fabric, precum completely soaking it through. “How long have you been like this?” 
“Few hours.” He croaks out a dry throat. 
“And you didn’t wake me?” You hastily make your way behind him, slipping to your knees to take the twine from him. 
Fuck. There it is. Your scent...driving him over the edge. Wafting past his nose and making him woozy in the head. 
“Tie me.” He demands. For a moment, you’re frozen in place by his tone, unable to move your hands and fingers. “Quickly.” 
The edginess in his voice startles you, causing you to fumble with the twine. You take a breath and begin tying the knot as he taught you, weaving the twine with itself, tugging at the ends to close it.
“Tighter.” He snaps at you, making your ears lay flat. You pull the ends even tauter, witnessing the twine pinch the thin skin on his wrists. 
“Shit—sorry. Didthat hurt?” You go to loosen the knot, but he pulls at the restraints, making it even tighter.  
“Leave it.” He grumbles, tugging yet again, ensuring it’s unyielding.
Because the closer you get, the harder he finds it to resist. He needs to know that he can’t get out—that he can’t hurt you—before he loses it completely. And with that delicious scent seeping from your neck, he feels himself slipping under. 
“Are you sure? I can tie you after you drink some water and have a—” 
“No...haah—now.” He growls, dropping his head causing the rest of his hair to flow forward and cover his face. “…need you now.” 
Blood rushes to your cheeks, heating them up and flushing them over. You can even feel your heart pumping it harder–faster. It’s hot in here, but even hotter now that you feel yourself heating up too. It’s his rut, influencing you like some sort of drug. You can barely control your breathing, much less think straight. But you told him that you’d be the one in control, the one to care for him. 
“Mawey, ma’ muntxatan [Calm, my husband].” You whisper close to his ear, giving the knot a final tug. “What kind of mate would I be if I did not care for you first? Hm?”  
You shuffle to your feet, and walk away, newly widened hips swaying side to side with temptation. He’s taking in the show through the cracks of space between his clumped together strands of hair, unable to look away no matter how hard he tries. Knowing this, you bend over, lifting your tail to expose your clothed mound to him. You swear you can hear a hiss seep from his lips, and that brings a smile to yours. 
Teasing him is one of your favourite things to do. 
You scoop up some water into the cup, and bring it over to him. Using two fingers to his chin, you tilt his head back, revealing the famine in his inebriated eyes. They’re glossy with need and desperation, begging you to take his ache away. 
“Alright, alright.” You coo softly, sinking back to your knees. “I’m going to make it go away. Now, drink for me.” You bring the cup to his lips, tilting it carefully as he gulps it down thirstily. A few drops dribble down his chin and onto his already glistening chest, rolling down his unflexed stomach. 
Tossing the empty cup to the side, you bend forward and lick the beads of water up his stomach, to his throat, to his lips. His arms jerk reflexively, wanting to cup your face as your lips lock with his.
Throwing a leg over his lap, you straddle him, pressing against the bulge in his sticky tewng. You cup his face instead, deepening the kiss to have a taste of the potent desperation on his tongue.
When you pull away, your noses brush against one another and you feel woozy in the head. His rut is beginning to affect you now. Which isn’t all a bad thing if you want to be able to keep up with him for the next couple days.  
Your hand smoothes over his jawbone to the nape of his neck, where you gently grip the base of his kuru. His ears immediately lay flat to his head, reddening at just the tips. Running your hand along its length, you bring the end of his kuru in front of him. 
“Going to make the bond.” You warn him breathily, bringing forth your queue as well. 
At this point, Ralak is huffing for air and sweating profusely. It looks as if he’s nearing his peak already. This only reaffirms that you’re making the right decision by making tsaheylu—you need the direct influence of his tìsom [heat]. 
When the tendrils intertwine, you come together with a sharp tug and gasp. Instantaneously, you sink into a hazy state, heating up from within. Your breath syncs with his, and suddenly you’re panting too. 
“Ralak.” You moan softly, grinding into him for a bit of friction.
You can’t stop your hips from snapping, and your loincloth is almost completely soaked. He throws his head back into the wooden stilt, looking at you through lidded eyes as he lets loose subtle groans. He looks more than hungry. He looks starved. 
With trembling hands, you search for the knot of his loincloth at the base of his tail. After a bit of scuffling, you untether it and shimmy his tewng down his hips and off of him. Up springs his aching cock, veiny and swollen. It’s so obviously neglected, glossy and sticky with his slick, so uncomfortably hard that it’s already pulsing as it stands firmly pressed against your clothed cunt. 
“Fuck. It’s… even bigger.” You’re taken aback, unsure of how exactly you managed to take this inside you last time he was in rut. Then you notice the red tinge of colour on his cockhead, especially where his ridges stand erect. “D-Does that hurt, karyu?” Bump in the way, you shift your hips back to reveal what exactly you’re talking about. “Need your numeyu to take away the pain?” 
The giant remains silent, but his cock jumps in response, oozing out another large bead of precum. Using your pointer finger, you trace the length of his cock, swollen balls to his pointed tip, collecting that fresh bead of slick on the pad of your digit. He watches intently as you pop your finger into your mouth and suckle, swallowing his semi-sweet essence. His brows knit tightly together. 
You know this is nothing short of torture to him. And though you have every intention to take the ache away… when would you get another opportunity like this? Where this giant is tied down and unable to resist the pleasure you bring him. Where you’re completely… in control. Fuck, you’ve never felt like this before. It's exhilarating. It’s a feeling of power. Of dominance.
A smirk pulls at your lips.   
You begin to pull yourself to your knees, brushing your swollen breasts against his lips. His tongue darts out, eager for a taste. Looking down, you cup one breast with your hand, and guide your stiff nipple into his mouth. His lips pucker over it, closing once they make contact for a vacuum seal.
Your breath hitches when you feel his tongue tickle the sensitive tip of your nipple. His teeth graze against them as he tries to do this handsfree, and you let out a low hiss. Soon his movements grow erratic, being bound to the marui stilt is starting to frustrate him. 
“Ah-ah. What do you need, karyu? Just tell me.” Your voice is feigned with innocence. He breathes heavy against your chest, keeping quiet as his focus is purely on getting his fill. “You won’t get anything from them.” You tsk, tugging away little by little, until eventually you pop off his mouth. 
You continue to rise to your feet, dragging his lips along your swelling tummy, until he’s eye level to the band of your tewng. You can feel his eyes pierce into you, his stare is anything but discreet. It’s intimidating. Your hand flies to the back of your loincloth, fiddling with the knot to untie it. 
“Is it this?”
The cloth drops to your ankles, exposing your flushed cunt to him. It’s pink and hot to the touch, undeniably aroused. Your scent grows stronger with each passing second, filling his lungs. It’s driving him insane—being able to see and smell, but not touch. His rut is only making him more irritable. He just needs to fuck into something and spill himself inside. 
His eyes glisten over an even brighter shade of purple, locking onto their meal. He wets his bottom lip with a quick swipe of his tongue as you take a step closer. You cup his jawbone, tilting it upwards to look down at him. The sight is… intoxicating. His lidded eyes, blown pupils that are threatening to roll to the back of his head. Tensed brow bones and damped, slightly parted lips—not a drop of composure left in his features. 
That new feeling rushes through you again, making you take two more steps forward. Your bare cunt brushes against the tip of his nose, officially branding it with your scent. He leans into you, closing his eyes and straining his neck to indulge himself. 
Your thumb smoothes over his jaw before your hand slips to the back of his head. You fist his hair and yank his head back, sending his eyes flying open. With your free hand, you spread your pussy lips, exposing your swollen clit. It’s sticky and in need of attention, throbbing occasionally as you tug your hood back. 
“Now, suck.” You demand breathily, slowly guiding him by the head to bring his lips to your clit.
You clench around nothing when you feel his heated, slippery lips pucker over the stiffened nub, sucking gently. Sharp eyes bore into yours before they roll back, leaving nothing but the whites exposed. Lids finally fluttering closed, he sucks a little harder, tips of his canines accidentally nipping your supple skin.  
“Ss—fuck.” You hiss, hips snapping back with force, popping off his mouth with a sharp sting. Frantic fingers rub away the tingling sensation as you grit your teeth. You shuffle your feet to ground yourself as you tighten your grip on his hair and hold his head still. 
“I know you’re in rut, but be good to your muntxate [wife].” You warn through your teeth before shoving his face back into your cunt.
This time he feasts with greed, groaning like a starved man. Eating, like a starved man. He’s slurping and sucking, lapping up your slick as it coats his tongue and lips, enjoying every second of your reign.
“Oh—oh shit. Fuck. Right there—” You moan breathlessly, free hand flying to his head to fist his hair, using it as leverage to keep him just where he is.
Before you know it your hips are moving on their own, humping at his face as you hold him tightly with both hands. With each thrust you shove him further back into the stilt, until the back of your hand is repeatedly hitting its surface. 
Until you’re hunched over him, looking him deep in the eyes as you grind into whatever part of him your clit is rubbing against. He expertly holds his breath as he allows you full control to fuck his face as if you were the one in heat.
Because with each roll of your hips he feels it too.
He feels the jolt of pleasure that shoots through you when his tongue hits your clit in that special spot. When the tips of his canines graze your swollen folds. The feeling is all consuming and he’s whining into your cunt from the over—and under—stimulation. His cock shifts to a shade of purple, jumping each time you thrust into his mouth. 
‘Sorry, Ralak. ‘m sorry.’ You think to him through tsaheylu, feeling the burn in your own lungs now. 
“Haa—ah, fuck. Thrust. Fuck. Thrust. F-Fuck! I’m gonna cum—in your—ngh!” Your voice quavers as you come suddenly undone in his mouth, holding him firm and still as you rock your body into him. 
His eyes slam shut and his brows knit tightly together as he grunts repeatedly into your cunt. He tugs harshly at his restraints and his heels dig into the woven floor. Yet still, you hold onto him even tighter until your pussy stops fluttering. 
With a loud, shaky gasp, you yank him away, letting go of his hair to grab the marui stilt to stop your trembling legs from giving out beneath you. Ralak wheezes loudly, shoulders heaving harshly as he frantically pants for air. His face is bright pink, flushed and glazed in a layer of sweat. He opens his eyes but they’re so heavy that you can barely see the colour in them. 
“Rutxe [please].” Ralak begs through a desperate groan, flicking his stare downwards. And when you look, you’re met with the sight of his still-throbbing cock, covered in his sticky, thick cum. Shiney beads still ooze out and dribble down his length and onto his swollen, firm balls. 
His first word was a plea of help. 
Your heart aches in your chest. How could you let yourself go so far with your little bit of power? To be so selfish. And here he was, in so much discomfort and yet you put your needs first. Leaving him so neglected to the point his body makes the release for him. Is this how he felt after he unleashed six pent up years on you in a couple days? 
Pent up years of suffering. 
“Shh. You’re okay, my love. You’re okay.” You whisper as you slowly squat down. “I got you. I’m going to make it…” you hold eye contact with him as you lower yourself onto his cock, aligning his tip with your sopping entrance, “…all better now.” 
You wince when his cock slowly penetrates you, mewling a little higher with every inch you manage to take. The stretch is almost unbearable. This is the first rut you’ve spent with him without being in heat. 
No foggy haze to dull the ache. 
No emptiness to be filled. 
And it doesn’t help that your womb is already so full. 
Your mewl quickly turns into a whimper when your bodies become flush to one another. Ralaks head slumps back into the marui stilt and he heaves a loud, lengthy moan of relief from being buried deep inside your warm cunt. You feel so good around him, making his cock heat up and twitch inside of you. 
Snaking your arms around his neck, you hold onto him as you frantically try to adjust to his size. It’s dawning on you exactly what you’ve gotten yourself into, and that you’ve seriously underestimated his rut. A sense of uncertainty begins to tighten your stomach but it quickly dissipates when you hear Ralak’s second plea. 
“Rutxe, ma’ tanhì..” Ralak mutters with a pained, gravelly voice. 
Without another word, you move your hips up and down, dragging his length along your gummy, slick walls. Your movements are sloppy and uncoordinated, you’re not used to doing most of the work much less all of it. With his hands tied behind his back, you can already feel the burn in your thighs and the throb in the tips of your toes. 
Regardless, you keep moving your hips. 
Bouncing up and down on his cock, pressing your forehead into his in a poor attempt to steady your position. That little sting slowly morphs into something of pleasure the more your hips meet his with a slap. And soon all you can hear is smack, after smack, after smack. The noises that split his lips tell you all you need to know. He’s feeling good and that’s all that matters. 
But exhaustion hits you quickly—unexpectedly. His cock is buried to the hilt inside you, and the more tired your legs get, the deeper it drills inside you, pressing harshly into your cervix. Your legs are trembling uncontrollably and you can barely catch your breath, leaving you no choice but to lazily rock back and forth on his cock. 
Ralak lets out a grunt and bucks his hips. 
“Haah!” You yelp.
Ralaks ears lay flat, lips pursed tightly into a thin line. He can’t hold back his frustration any longer. He’s growing impatient. If he didn’t get his real release soon he may really lose it. He’s grunting through his nose and tugging at his restraints, bruising his wrists. You feel him shift his hips up and shove his cock as far as he can inside you. 
“Ngh! I-It won’t go any deeper!” Your voice strains as you try to lift yourself up. But he just keeps pushing until his feet are grounded. And then his hips drop, pulling his cock half way out of you. 
Thrust.
Ralak slams his cock back inside you, drilling deeper than he was before. Your mouth falls open as all the air is forcefully expelled from your lungs. As you suck in a gasp of air he thrusts inside you again. And again. And again. Until he’s rutting into you in a feverish frenzy, chasing his climax as if it were prey. His thrusts turn relentless, leaving you breathless with each buck of his hips. 
“Fuck—fuck—fu—” Your voice bounces with his thrusts. 
You look down, met with eyes that are empty yet heavy with appetite. He’s in the thick of it and he’s no longer all there. He’s purely instinct now and the only thing holding him back from pinning you down and having his way with you is the twine wrapped around his wrists. 
You can’t lie and say that you aren’t enjoying the look on his face and the break from the burn in your thighs. Stars sprinkle your vision as you’re overwhelmed with the immense pleasure he’s slamming into you. He’s fucking you into submission and you’re mind is borderline blank. His groans are primal and guttural, and they grow louder with each hysteric thrust. 
“Want to knot.” He huffs suddenly—desperately. You can feel his thick knot poke and prod at your entrance, his thrusts now sloppy and erratic. 
“Fuck, I—” You know you shouldn’t, no matter how hazy his rut is making you feel. “W-We can’t. I’m still ea—rly.” But he’s too busy watching himself fuck you in a daze, drenched with sweat. “Ralak…” You grab his face, tilting his chin upwards so he looks you in the face. His gaze is hollow yet his features are tense. “…are y–ou hear–ing me, la–k?”
“Need to breed.” He growls as he fights against his restraints. He doesn’t ease up on his tussle with the twine, sweating and panting as he desperately tries to force his knot inside you. 
“Shit.” You mutter, coming to the quick realisation that he can’t stop himself. “Wait, wait, wait—” 
Your hands fall from his face to his stomach, pushing down in a panicky attempt to lift yourself off him. But his rut is making you sluggish and weak, so you make the quick decision to sever the bond with a rough yank. 
Snap. 
“Oh, fuck.” You curse under your breath. 
The twine breaks, and his arms fly forward, hands making impact with your hips, fingernails digging into the thin skin. His grip is unyielding as he holds you down firmly on his cock. You feel him throb inside you as he attempts to plug you full with his knot. 
“Lak! Ralak, h-hold on!” As much as you actually want to, you can barely take what’s inside you as it is.
“Submit.” He rasps, top lip curled tight to his teeth, baring his canines. 
“I—I’m pregnant.” You whisper quickly, voice hoarse and strained. 
Immediately, his movements cease and his eyes flick down to your tiny bump, then widen when he finally realises. In one swift, sudden move, he lifts you off him and uses your swollen pussy lips to hug his cock and finish himself off. He rocks you back and forth like a rag doll at the mercy of undying grip, growling and grunting. 
His head drops forward when he outright howls. You look down and witness his mushroomy head pulsating feverishly, spurting out his load in thick ropes, all over his stomach and chest. All whilst his engorged, throbbing knot pulses against your slit as he cums, earning some well deserved comfort and warmth.
Ralak sputters as he tries to catch his breath, hands still glued to your hips. The fog still clouds his mind but it’s less blinding now. He’s just about capable of acknowledging what just happened. To acknowledge that this was risky, and could’ve ended badly. That, if you hadn’t said something to him, he would have knotted you without mercy.
An uncomfortable silence passes between you, where you’re both breathing heavily and staring at one another. You both share the same thought—the same realisation. His rut is too aggressive for you to handle right now. 
“I must go.” Ralak looks away as he breaks the silence, wanting to take advantage of his release before the pressure builds yet again. He’s clear headed enough to leave without turning back and pouncing on you. 
“No, don’t… we can try again.” You say softly, hand cupping his jawbone, turning him to face you. You feel terrible that he may have to spend this rut alone, that you couldn’t fulfil your promise—your duty as his mate. 
“I almost knotted you, y/n.” His eyes gloss over with guilt, his hands finally peeling away your bruised hips. 
“But… you didn’t. You stopped yourself—” 
“And if I do not leave now… I will.” Ralak growls inches away from your face.
You’re a little taken aback by his bluntness, but you know it’s the truth. And it’s final. No matter what you say. No matter how it makes the flesh between your legs throb a little more. You nod, keeping yourself quiet. 
“I will see you in a couple days. I love you both.” Your lips meet briefly before he carries you to bed and readies himself to leave. You watch in silence, murmuring an “I love you, too” under your breath when he exits the marui.  
As time passed you grew more angsty, unable to keep in one spot or focus on a single task. All that ran on your mind was Ralak and how he was probably suffering all alone. All because you failed to do your duty as his mate. The guilt was almost sickening, having you dry heaving into your bedside bucket a few times for the rest of the day. 
Until later that night. 
You rub in the thick, oily concoction on your belly, getting ready for bed. The sound of the marui door flapping open startles you, making you jump in your skin and clutch your stomach. You’re not expecting Ralaks return so soon. 
A silhouette stands tall at the door, his bioluminescent star pattern unmistakable. 
“Ralak? Oh, Ralak. Eywa. You’re back. I should have made dinner. I thought you'd be gone for a while longer. You must be so hungry. You—” You speak urgently, eyes flicking down to his tewng, which is seemingly damp, “—was it too much? …are you alright? Let me help you, lak.”
“Tanhì.” Ralaks cuts you short, voice trembling slightly, yet full of relief. “It is done.” 
“…what?” The question is breathy. 
“My rut.” Ralak says as he makes his way towards you, scooping up a glob of your special concoction. He sits next to you, and begins massaging it into your back. “You have fixed me.” 
You come to the realization that he's talking about his rut finishing earlier than usual—like that of an average na'vi.
“You were never broken, my love.” You moan softly, closing your eyes to enjoy the massage.
Ralak then rests his chin on your shoulder, smoothing his hands down your back and around your abdomen—rubbing what's left on his hands onto your swelling belly. His touch prickles your skin, sending the tip of your tail swishing. 
“I live for you.” He mutters with a thick accent, nuzzling his face into your neck. “I will die for you.”
Your heart skips a beat when you hear his words, he must have really been suffering for the past six years. You feel your face heat up, and you try to fight the smile balling your cheeks. You opt to drop your head and hide your face instead, resting a hand on his thigh. 
“Well. We won’t have you doing that.” You giggle, rubbing his upper thigh as you turn your head to glance at him. “…the last part, that is.” 
But he just looks at you, face still as stone. He speaks sternly.
“I will.” He speaks sternly.
You swallow your spit, tempted to drop your head again as you take in the gravity of his two words. You nod, searching his eyes with yours as you close the space between you. You hover open mouthed against his lips. 
“Me too.”
——
Time waits for no one. 
At least that’s how it felt. You had ballooned overnight, round and a little heavier as you embarked on your sixth month of pregnancy. His kicks grew stronger and more uncomfortable. But it was Ralaks favourite thing to feel before bed.
You found yourself spending most of your days bouncing between your marui and your family’s marui—paying your family visits more often. They grew fond of the idea that there would be an addition to the family and it became a regular thing for you to seek refuge there when Ralak was roped in for his ‘duties’. Which seemed to increase in number the further along you progressed. 
Ralak had his daily duties—tending to the ilus, a few lessons, fishing... These were just the simpler tasks that you could say you knew for certain he did. But there were his ‘fkxaranga’ [stressful] duties’, as you liked to call them.
The ones where Tonowari would summon him with nothing else but a simple nudge or glance. The duties that were spontaneous. That stole precious hours of his time. Duties that left Ralak spent and on edge, reaching for his top shelf when he came home. Those were the ones you dreaded the most. 
The ones like last night. 
——
With a huff, Ralak chucks his gear onto the floor and roughly unclips his chest piece. His pointed tools are covered in some sort of thick, iridescent muck, shifting from green to orange as they rock side to side on the floor. It’s something you’ve been seeing recently with no idea as to what it is. 
Ralak grunts, bringing your attention to his lips, which are slightly downturned. The more you take in the sight before you the more it occurs to you how exhausted this man is. His eyes are hollow, ears droopy, tail dragging heavily behind him. His muscles are seized up despite the bow of his shoulders—he looks as if he could use a massage. 
“Manga [Hey, you].” You get up to meet him at the door, taking the chest piece out of his hands to hang up on the wooden stand. “Tonowari is working your tail off. Do I need to have a word with that man?” 
He only works up a grumble as you lead him over to the bed. “That bad? What is he making you do? Hunt akulas? Eywa.”  
Ralak sits down, face sinking into his hands before two fingers slip down to pinch the bridge of his nose. You climb up and settle behind him, huffing and puffing along the way. Your hands smooth over his back, thumbs pressing firmly into his muscles, kneading the flesh until you feel him loosen up. 
Though the question sounded rhetorical, he knew it wasn’t. He knows you’re awaiting a response, the silence is loud and clear. You always want to know more about his day, fine details and all. And he’s usually reluctant to speak of it, but insisting it’s nothing for you to worry your head over. But recently, your inquisitivity is… well founded. And he knows it.
“Not quite.” He mumbles wearily into his palm, ears laid flat to his skull–although it wasn’t uncommon for him to encounter an akula or two whilst fulfilling the olo’eyktan’s orders. 
You open your mouth to question him further, but you can tell that he’s more than tired. And it didn’t help that you were constantly needing his help, especially now that you’re growing heavier.
Going down the stairs is a struggle considering you can no longer see your own feet or keep your balance. You had been waking him up almost twice a night to help you down the marui stairs just to pee. He’d always be happy to help, though. He understands that this is what comes with the changes that are happening to your body that’s giving life to his child. 
“Rest. Please.” You say softly, tugging at him to lie down in bed with you. 
To your surprise, he actually lays down, assuming his typical position before dozing off for the night—on his back with a hand on your belly. You expected him to resist a little, insisting something or another.
He really, really must be tired. Your heart fills with something heavy. Something that makes you almost feel sick. Your brows pinch as you look beside you to see his tensed face relax into something of tranquility. 
And a smile pulls at your lips when his eyes fall shut. 
Dinner’s over the firepit—his favourite stew with extra mushrooms. The sound of it bubbling becomes louder as it thickens. With a quick, final stir, you take it off the fire and cover it to let it sit. You hope that this will help lift his mood when he wakes. You look over to him as he lays stockstill with softened features, breathing tidally. 
Holding onto a supporting beam of the marui, you bring yourself to your feet and waddle your way over to him. You extend a hand to wake him for dinner but you hesitate. He needs this. And that’s when you make the decision to allow him however long it takes to rest. Even if it means that you speak to Tonowari yourself. 
Night falls and the temperature falls with it. The glowing firepit keeps the stew and marui warm for the time being as you prepare for bed. You draw the curtains and glance over to your mate, who still remains in a deep sleep, tucked cozily under the blanket you covered him with. You drape the shawl he wove you over your shoulders, and make your way to the door. 
A silent yawn splits your lips just before you lift away the flap. Your eyelids are heavy and the drowsiness is weighing on you tenfold. You have one last step of your nightly routine before you can crawl into bed next to your husband. And that's emptying the bladder that your son uses as a footrest. Plus, if you didn’t do it now, it would just be an additional trip in the middle of the night. 
As you make your way to the door, the need to go becomes urgent. Perhaps it was all the water you thirstily chugged whilst eating, or maybe it's just the fact that you're already on your way there. Either way, you can’t seem to get there quick enough. Your movements turn hasty the second you get to the top step, hands clutching on the only thing available—your bulging belly. You’re looking down despite the fact that you can’t even see your feet.
Leaning forward slightly, you try to shift your stomach to the side to see your next step. You step down and feel your bare foot make contact with the slippery wood. Your toes press into its surface to ground you as you take your next step. You wobble when you get to the last step, and sigh in relief when you feel the cold, wet sand spill between your toes. 
After wasting no time and doing what you came to do, you quickly make your way back to the marui. The tips of your ears and tails are just going numb from how cold it is and the night dew is beginning to form. You get to the bottom step, fixing your shawl so that it’s out the way. You make your way up the first, second and third step, but when you get to the fourth your shawl falls forward. 
And so do you. 
A blood curdling shriek rips from your throat when you feel your feet give out beneath you. Your hands splay out to grab onto whatever’s around you to break your fall but before you know it you're tumbling back down the stairs at a frightening rate. You keep on your side as best you can, landing into the sand with a muffled thump. 
“Fuck. Shit—oh, great mother—” You mutter as you hyperventilate, clutching your stomach as you wait for your son to kick—to show you some sign of life. Your eyes well with tears as you rub your bump vigorously. Your heart is slamming violenting against your rib cage, so hard you can hear it over the ringing in your ears. “Please, please, please.” 
…but nothing. 
“Y/n?!” You hear Ralaks worried voice boom behind you, then his hurried footsteps down the stairs. 
Maybe it’s his fathers voice, but your unborn son gives you one of the biggest kicks yet. You sob out a laugh, rubbing your stomach as relief flows through your body. You take a few deep breaths through your mouth to calm down, feeling another reassuring kick. 
“Y/n. Y/n.” Ralak chants your name, eyes rapidly darting side to side to assess you as he kneels beside you. Concern’s etched deeply into his features as he lifts your arms and legs, searching for injuries. 
“I’m alright. I’m alright.” You repeat urgently, but he continues to look, even taking off your shawl. His eyes are wide and he seems to be in some level of shock, especially after coming straight out of a deep sleep. “Ralak. Really. I’m fine. We’re okay.” 
Ralaks features soften at your two final words. His stare falls to your swollen belly, hands taking the place of yours as he waits. After a few seconds of stillness, his eyes snap up to yours—refilling with worry. He begins to shake his head, and you reassure him with a hand to his face. 
“Talk to him.” You whisper with trembling lungs. Ralak looks back down to your stomach.
“Maitan [My son].” Your mate says in a low, steady voice, ensuring not to allow even a hint of fright slip through. Just then, he feels a little nudge against the palm of his hand. Ralaks gaze snaps up to you and his expression relaxes, hands rubbing your belly gently. “How did this happen, tanhì?”
“I…needed to pee.” You say shamefully, avoiding eye contact. “…and I tripped going up the steps.” You glance up at him to see what you perceive to be a face of disappointment. “I’m sorry. I know, I’m so stupid.” 
“No. Do not say that.” He interjects, tensing his jaw. “...you are heavy with child—why did you not wake me?” 
“You were so, so tired. You needed to rest, and I did not want to disturb you.” You turn to your side to get up, wincing when a sharp pain shoots down your back. 
“Careful.” He clears his throat, stopping you from trying to get up on your own. He watches your contorted face relax, but the heart wrenching guilt just gets worse. “You should have. Wake me for anything.” He says sternly, snaking his arms underneath you to lift you up. “Everything.”
“You really don’t have to—” Ralak continues, scooping you in his arms and holding you close to his chest. “I can walk. I’m all right, Ralak.”
You try to reassure him, shuffling in his arms to get down. But he only muffles out a sigh, glancing down at you with downturned brows and droopy ears. He then walks away from the marui stairs, to the direction of the water. 
“Where are we going?” You ask quickly when you realise that you’re walking away from home. Ralak clicks for his tsurak, taking his time as he mounts it with you tucked to his chest. “Ralak.” 
“To tsahìk.” He states, making the bond with his beast.
“Ronal?” You sound almost panicked as the idea of everyone knowing you fell up the stairs clouds your mind. It’s almost mortifying to think about. “We don’t need to do that, it’s really late too, and—”
Commanding his beast to go, you both take off at full speed. It doesn’t take long to arrive at the tsahìk’s healing pod. Many healers gather at the door when they hear the sound of Ralak’s low pitched call. And they rush out to meet him as he carries you towards them in a hurried manner. They usher you in, hushed murmurs growing louder and clearer as they bring you to Ronal. 
You didn’t even notice the burning pain in your lower back until you were about half way here. 
The Tsahìk stands upon your entrance, her crystal blue eyes widening when she sees Ralak with you in his arms. You wince as he lays you down where the healers instruct him to. She strides over to a woven basket filled with an array of herbs and needle-like wooden sticks, and quickly props it on her hip—just out of the way of her own bump. She settles herself beside you, feeling your stomach as she channels Eywa. 
Ronal throws a look to Ralak, whose hands are on his hips as he waits patiently for the verdict. 
“She fell.” He says, only for Ronal to cock an eyebrow. “Stairs.” He finishes. Then both her eyebrows raise, and she reaches for a jar of a ground up, purplish herb. She pours half of it into a wooden bowl, and activates it with a few drops of water from the spirit tree. 
“Baby is strong. Very strong.” The Tsahìk announces, and both you and Ralak heave a loud sigh of relief. “But—” Ronal props your legs up on the makeshift table, spreading them slightly. Embarrassment flushes your cheeks as you look over to Ralak. “You are still at risk.”
Ralak moves closer to you, taking your hand in his to keep you calm. You both watch as Ronal rolls the fabric tightly into a small cylindrical shape. You swallow your spit when you realise exactly where that’s going. 
“This ensures he stays. It will also help with the pain.” She states, glancing at Ralak to see the glare he’s trying to hold back. She shakes her head slightly and hands you the precautionary apparatus. “Insert. Rest…and remove at sunrise.” Ronal continues, drawing back the curtain to give you some privacy. 
“Sunrise?” You whisper to yourself as you watch her step out.
Your eyes dart up to Ralak who is clearly concerned, staring down at you with worry in his eyes. Embarrassment heats up your cheeks and your nerves fray. Why are you so shy all of a sudden? He’s your mate. Your husband. 
You sit up a bit more and try to see over your stomach to get the task done with shaky hands. You fumble and struggle with the flimsy cloth, blindly doing your best. But each time you lean forward the pain in your back burns hotter.
Ralak’s supporting you with a hand on your upper back, patiently waiting for you, noticing your trembling fingers and little grunts. He uses his free hand to cup yours, stilling your hurried movements.
“Mawey [calm]. Breathe.” He hums, gently taking it from you and helping you lay down. 
You look him in the eyes as he inserts it carefully, wincing when the concoction stings a bit. Ralak gives your hand a light squeeze, speaking as if he had access to your thoughts. You nod, trying to smile through the burning sensation, but he picks up on your discomfort. 
“What is it? Is it your back?" His voice quavers with worry.
“No… just burns a little.” You say quietly. You watch his jaw flutter and his shoulders droop as he huffs out a sigh. “Not to worry. It’s going away now.” 
As he’s about to speak, the curtain is drawn to the side and Ronal comes in and stands at the arched entrance, hand on her hip. Ralak averts his attention to her, his eyes glancing down at her unborn moving in her belly. Although you were both six months pregnant, you were noticeably bigger than her. 
“A word.” Her serious tone of voice brings him out of deep thought, and her nudging head tells him that it’s something urgent. 
Ralak looks at you, not wanting to leave you alone but you smile and reassure him with a light nod. He clenches his jaw but you give him a gentle push towards Ronal. He squeezes your hand before letting go and leans in to plant a firm kiss on your forehead. You watch as he leaves, laying back and taking in the ripples in the curtain as you strain to hear their hushed conversation. 
“Ronal. Oe irayo si ngaru. [Thank you]” Ralak begins, bowing before the shorter na’vi.
“I worry for your mate.” Ronal cuts to the chase, using her hand to guide him further away from the curtain. 
“For what reason?” He asks, keeping his head hung to hear what she has to say. They walk until they’re nearly at the entrance of the healing pod. 
“Your son is fast growing.” She speaks calmly but quickly.
Ralak is a little puzzled, although he doesn’t show it. Is that such a bad thing? He continues to look down at her with the same expression, listening intently to what the tsahìk speaks of.
“Her body will struggle. Birth will be hard. Very long and painful.” Now Ralak is having a hard time keeping his emotions concealed as they chisel themselves into his features. Yet he remains silent. “You must warn her about mun’i [the cut].”
“Pxasìk [no way/fuck that]” Ralak curses through a hiss in his native tongue as he stands at full height, figuratively and literally taken aback. How dare she call that upon his mate? Ronal returns a low hiss as Ralak moves away from her, staring down at her with a mixture of emotions. 
Concern. Surprise. Fear. 
Mun’i [the cut] is rare and risky. Only three have been performed since the birth of this clan, all done in desperation when hope was gone. The last one was performed by Ronal's mother herself. It is an extremely invasive procedure where the mother is cut and the infant is removed. It’s only done in dire situations, where the mother is incapable of giving birth to their young naturally, and risks dying in the process.
Ralak can’t help but feel a burning anger amongst the sea of emotions flooding him at once. How could she suggest such a thing to him? Something so dangerous and grave? All because you will give birth to ‘a different kind’. He’s more than confident that you’re capable of this, despite the murmurs circulating the clan. 
He has always been aware of Ronal's perception of you, and her opinion about the mating. It was no secret, though she never outwardly told Ralak as he is like a son to her. She often insisted that you two were not compatible in more ways than one, and always saw you as the forest girl who needed special training. But to know that Ronal doubts your capabilities to give life ignites a flame in his chest. 
One that he must quickly put out. 
“Ralak!” 
He hears you call out for him, prompting him to quell the flame and shoot Ronal a glare of displeasure. “She is stronger than you know.” Ralak speaks through his teeth before turning his heel to tend to you. 
Heart pounding, he makes his way through the curtain to be met with the joyous sight of you cradling your stomach with a smile plastered to your face. That only further calms the flicker of the flame in his chest, making a smile tug at his lips. He sees you glance up at him, pearly teeth glistening in the luminosity of the night. 
“Sorry if I startled you, it’s just—he’s kicking so hard. Come, come feel!” You blubber excitedly, reaching out for his hand to place it on your belly. He slowly takes a knee, staying still as stone to soak up each movement. “He is so strong, Ralak. Like you.” You whisper, looking down at your mate doting on your bump. 
Though he should be proud of your words, he can’t help but feel a little nervous by them. If this child is really like him, then what Ronal said may have some truth to it. Yet he smiles, smoothing his thumb over your protruding belly button. 
“He is strong like his sa’nu [mummy].” He says softly, perhaps in attempts to reassure himself and calm his own nerves. Your smile only grows and you place your hand on top of his. 
“What did Ronal say?” Ralaks eyes snap up to yours, wide and almost panicked, wiping the smile off your face instantly. “Oh, no. Is it bad? Is something wrong?” 
“No, no. She says…” He drops his head, watching his unborn move as he contemplates telling you. You need rest, and this would further stress your mind and body. Ralak urges himself to smile—to create a new mask—one of feigned happiness. “…you must rest. Wait until sunrise.” 
“Oh, okay.” You exhale a sigh of relief, “Good. I—I can do that.” 
—— 
After such an eventful night, sleep found you easily. Ralak carried you up the marui stairs, tucked you into bed and watched as your eyes fluttered shut. And even so, he remained at your side for some time, ensuring you were deep in sleep before embarking on his new task. 
It began with a ‘quick’ trip inland for the right kind of wood. The kind that holds up well against the elements and the saltiness of the water. The kind that doesn’t have a slip to it when it's been wet for more than a few hours. It took a few trips to get it all back to the beach but it was more of an irritable task than a difficult one.
Ralak tried to keep as quiet as possible, spending the rest of the night—until sunrise—cutting and carving the wood, binding them together with twine, sap and wooden pins. And by the time the first few rays of sunlight beamed in, he was engraving his finishing touches. 
Ralak chucks down the tool and it lands into the sand with a muffled thud. Using the back of his strake to wipe his forehead clean of sweat, he looks up at his work for a final time—railings for the marui stairs. Then the bright ray of sun shines before his eyes, standing between his two new creations. 
You.
You’re surprised to see him out this early, still in his gear from last night. The realisation dawns on you that he’s been up all night, doing this. You can actually feel your chest warm up as your heart pumps the blood through your veins at an insane rate. It rushes to your cheeks, making them hot and flushed. 
“Is this what you’ve been doing all night?” You ask the question under your breath, dragging a hand along the railing. It’s smooth under the pads of your fingers, and warm to the touch, as if they’ve just been filed down. You notice a small carving on the side of the railing—your son’s initial.
R. 
“Mm.” He grunts, not that he could have slept anyways. He glances at the initial that you’re staring at. “I should have done it long ago.” The shame in his voice is loud and clear. You look down at your feet, unsure of what to say, noticing that he’s redone the steps too. 
“Ralak—”
“You must still wake me. Understand?” He cuts you off, already knowing what you’re about to say. 
You take a step down, holding tightly onto the railing with one hand and the other tucked under your bump. He rushes up the stairs and supports you by the arm. You lean into him for a hug, nuzzling your face into his chest. “… thank you, my love.” 
“Kea tìkin [no need (for thanks)].” He presses his lips onto the crown of your head, words muffled by your hair. His hand slips down your arm and rests on your lower back. “Still feeling pain?” 
“No. I feel good. Like new.” You smile, watching his features soften and his lips pull into a subtle smile. “Your son, too. He kicked me all night.” 
“Is that so, young one?” He leans down to speak to your belly as you watch intently, “you must be gentle with your sa’nu [mummy].” 
As he looks back up to you, your eyes follow his every move. And suddenly it’s just the two of you, before the orange glow of the sunrise, sharing this intimate gaze with one another. 
“Ralak… I see you.” You say softly, witnessing his pupils blow until there’s nothing but thin rings of blue.
He swallows, you see the lump in his throat undulate, and the balls of his cheeks stain a light pink. He blinks a few times, leaning in until his lips brush against yours. He lingers there for a bit, jaw fluttering as he grits his teeth a few times. He can’t help but feel a pang in his chest. 
How could he keep this from you?
“Oel ngat kame, ma’ muntxate.” He husks the words before locking his lips with yours.
But as he pulls away, you see the glint in his eye. When he sees your lowered brows and inquisitive eyes, he attempts to fix his mask of indifference—no, happiness. But you see right through it—
The glint of guilt. 
“What is it?” You ask, reaching behind him for his kuru. It’s your way of saying, 'no secrets'. He’s quiet. Uncomfortably quiet. Unsure of how to say what he should say. You urge him with a light tug to his queue, creating a little more distance between you to look him dead in the eye. “Ralak.”
“Ronal doubts…you.” He says plainly, trying hard to rid himself of the thought of childbirth taking you away from him.
“I don’t understand. What—what does that mean?” You ask, confused and worried. 
“I should have told you about it when you asked.” Ralak says, shaking his head. “But…you were already under so much stress. In pain. Our son—” 
“Ralak. Tell me about what?” You whisper quietly—quickly. Ralak looks at you, allowing a few seconds of silence to pass before he speaks. 
“Mun’i [the cut].” Ralak’s voice cracks with pain as the dreaded thought floods his mind. 
Ralak goes on to explain mun'i, giving you a brief lesson on its history and typical…outcome. He explains why Ronal urged him to warn you about it. And exactly what he told her in return. That he is confident that you are more capable of doing this. 
It ends with a comforting embrace and the both of you coming to the conclusion that a conservation with Jake is needed. If the cut were to happen, the sky people’s medical advancements would be…useful. 
——
Since then, Ralak adapted a very strict agenda when it came to the preparation of the birth. In some ways, it reminded you of the beginning of your relationship with him as teacher and student. Karyu and Numeyu. A revision of previous lessons, such as breathing lessons. 
“Deeper breaths, tanhì. Slow.” Ralak instructs you with his hand on your round belly. 
“It’s hard…” your voice is strained, “when his feet are in my lungs.” 
Ralak chuckles, nodding in understanding. “Right. Do your best.” 
You attempt to follow his demonstration a fifth time, inhaling deeply through your nose, holding it, and then slowly letting it out through your mouth. “Light headed now.”
“You did well.” Ralak praises you, snaking an arm around you as he lowers you onto your back. “You all right?” 
“Just fine.” You mutter, grateful for the new position. 
Ralak looks at you for a while, taking in a sight that may be similar to the one of you giving birth—giving life. The reality that you will soon be a family quickly dawns on him. The reality that… Ronal's words still weigh heavy on his heart.
“And when you bear down…” Ralak pulls your leg back, your knee now grazing against your cheek as they flush with embarrassment. “…shallow, fast breaths. Do not hold it.” 
He then demonstrates, emphasising the sound of the breathing technique to ensure you’re doing it properly.
'…hee—hee—hoo…'
You mimic his sounds, looking down to see nothing but your protruding bump. It may be strange to some that Ralak is teaching you a lesson on something such as childbirth. But with his mother-figure being the tsahìk, there were just certain things he grew to have knowledge of. 
“Ronal says there are times where it is best to allow your body to take over. Focus on breathing him out. Let your body do the work for you…” You nod slowly as you practice deep breathing in this new position, “…she will show you some positions in your lesson tomorrow.” 
"What?" Your ears perk up. For some reason one on one interactions with Ronal always make you nervous. 
“The other expecting women of the clan will be there.” 
Your ears relax, and you feel a little more at ease knowing you won’t be alone, even if it’s a sea of gossiping women. At least they were more discreet about it. 
——
As you neared the final months of your pregnancy, Ralak was called out more frequently. The aches and pains that came along with being so big were just as frequent, it seemed. They’d hit you at the strangest times, during your sleep or whilst on your tsurak.
But when the pain spread to your abdomen is when Ralak urged you to take things easy. But they didn’t stop him from going anywhere. No matter how badly he wanted to stay home and tend to you. It was more complicated than that. Something that you were blissfully unaware of. Something he wanted to keep that way until it was the right time to tell you. 
“Must you go?” You ask hopefully, tugging at his bicep. “You just got back.” 
“Tono will have my head, tahnì.” He states, buckling his chest gear yet another time for today. 
“It’s not fair. Not even the warriors back at home tree were called out so much. Especially if their mate was this far along.” You huff, letting go off his bicep to clutch your protruding belly. He cups a hand over yours, leaning down to kiss your forehead.
“Ah. I know, I know. I want to stay, I do—” He’s cut off by your sudden gasp, and your face screwing with discomfort. “Are you alright?” His voice turns fills with concern, head tilting even more so that he can look you in the face. It felt as if your back set ablaze and your stomach hardened into rock. It eases up within a few seconds and you take a quick breath before answering. 
“Yeah, I think so.” You feel around your bump, taking note of how it’s softened and back to normal. “…that’s the second one today.” 
“Hm. It is. See Ronal while I am gone.” Ralak insists, tucking a couple loose braids behind your ear. You nod in response, gritting your teeth from the reminder that he’s leaving again. “I will speak with Tonowari today.” 
He’s quick to kiss you, lingering longer than he should. You savor his tender touch, breathing him in until you’ve gotten your fill to last you until he’s back. He pulls away, a grimace fixed to his face as it’s almost painful to do. He rubs your belly a final time, clicking for his beast. Reluctantly, he leaves, and so do you.
‘Practice Contractions.’
Ronal’s diagnosis of your pains. 
You’re not entirely unfamiliar with the concept. Mom calls them something different, but it all means the same thing at the end of the day. The body’s way of preparing to give birth. The constriction of your stomach, accompanied by intense pain, at random times with no rhythm. 
It’s normal, and expected. Ronal was particularly pleased to see your body do this early in your pregnancy. It typically occurs a couple weeks prior to birth, and both of you weren’t due for another month. 
They’re nothing to worry about, but she advises to rest if they get too intense. You waddle home with your tail dragging behind you, unhappy to see no sign of your mates return. 
“You are late.” Tonowari speaks monotonously, back turned to Ralak as he keeps his eyes on his task—forging a new tool. Ralak has to swallow his frustration and maintain his confidence. 
“It will happen soon.” He responds in a similar tone, his eyes following as the olo’eyktan stands. “I must be with her.”
“I understand. I do. But—” Tonowari finishes up the last touches, giving the tool its final inspection. “This is your duty, son.”
“She, is my duty.” Ralak snaps, his frustration slipping through. 
Feeling challenged, Tonowari turns to face him, now eye level with Ralak as he slowly nears his subordinate—chest to chest. But with a pregnant mate of his own, and the fact that Ralak is like his own son, Tonowari huffs a sigh and gives this a pass.  
“This is for her, too. For the people of the clan. You know what we are about to face. You will do this.” The olo’eyktan states sternly. “When the horn sounds… you come. And that…” he shoves the tool into Ralak’s chest, “…is an order.” 
Holding the tool against his own chest, Ralak looks away from Tonowari, grinding his back teeth hard enough to file them flat. He breathes heavily, attempting to recenter himself and stamp out the flame flickering in his chest. Tonowari gives him space, going ahead and mounting his skimwing, readying himself to embark on their journey. Whilst Ralak is left behind to let out a sluggish, shaky breath, closing his eyes when it dawns on him...
…what he must do, where he must go and who he must see. 
All before coming home this evening. 
“Zu’té.”
Ralak calls his name outside of the secluded, dim marui pod. It’s familiar, yet so unknown. It’s an eerie feeling to be standing here. It’s as if no one’s home. Not a single flame burning, nor the residual heat of a smothered fire pit. But Ralak can sense his presence. It’s thick. Aggressive. Just as it’s always been. It’s only intensified since the incident. 
The silence is deafening now. A message loud enough to have Ralak reconsidering his actions—rethinking his feelings. No part of him really desired to ask anything of this man, much less this. But in the case Tonowari really doesn’t budge with his decision, it is something he must do. No matter how many years have passed. Ralak has moved on…come to terms with what’s happened, and is in a much better place in his life now. Because of you.
You.
He’s doing this for you. Or is he? The fact he’s fathered a child has a major influence on his decision to be standing here to begin with… perhaps it’s something within him driven by nature—by instinct. The further you’ve progressed, the more he’s thought about rekindling this relationship. But he always brushed off these passing thoughts, until they were no longer just thoughts that passed. They became thoughts that lingered and kept him awake some nights. 
Showing their faces the most when Tonowari reminds him of the imminent danger the clan may face.
They reminded him of the good times when they were children. Teasing the ilus when no one was looking, sneaking off to the reef where the adults went to hunt just to see what it was like. But it also reminded him of the more unfortunate moments they shared. Those that will forever leave a scar on their souls, branded by pain and suffering. Since then, Ralak took an oath to never allow his own family to suffer the way he did. 
If this is what he must do, he’ll do it.
“I am in need of a favour.” Ralak finally admits, witnessing a tall, thick silhouette emerge from the marui. 
At this angle, its darkness looms over Ralak ominously. Green glowing eyes peer down at Ralak as the figure's hands cross defensively over his chest. He steps out of the darkness, revealing his inked face and intricately up-kept hair. He looks as if he’s been disturbed or rudely interrupted, evident in the way his eyes pierce fearlessly into Ralak. But Ralak simply returns the leer. 
“Zu’té.” Ralak speaks his name again, a little more sternly this time.
“Brother. To what do I owe this visit?” His tone is sarcastic with undertones of hostility. 
Ralak sighs, turning his head away from his older brother, fixating his gaze elsewhere. His jawbone flutters as he struggles to figure out what words to string together next. This isn’t easy for him—being here with his tail tucked between his legs. 
“It is no way easy for me to ask you of this…I know we have not spoken for some time.”
“Really? You think so? I would say it has been a little more than ‘some time’, no?” Zu’té’s irritation is shining through now.
“Agreed.” Ralak speaks sharply, dropping his head, gaze piercing into his own feet. He swallows and sighs once more, finally lifting his head to look his brother in the face. "I need your help, brother."
“Hm.” Zu’té scoffs, meeting his stare flagrantly. “Let me get this right. You come here, wake me out my sleep, speak to me like this for the first time in over forty-eight seasons…and demand my help?”  
“You are the only one I trust with this.” Ralak grinds out the words, they are hard to admit. 
This quietens Zu’té, causing his features to soften and his fixed stare to falter. To hear this after twelve years, straight from his brother’s mouth has him a little taken aback. There’s only one thing that it could mean—that could bring the golden child before him, begging for a favour. 
War. 
“What does our ‘mighty’ olo’eyktan have you up to now, baby brother?” Zu’té’s tone is especially sardonic when speaking of their father-figure. 
“Plenty.” Ralak chuckles quietly, shaking his head in amusement. His curved lips fade into a thin line, returning his grim expression when he’s reminded yet again of his exact reason for being here. “Look…” Ralak exhales, “...it is nowhere likeable for me to show my face like this. Trust me, I have thought of every possible solution. But…" he shakes his head, hesitant to share what he must say next. "My mate...she is pregnant."
Zu’té’ sighs when he realizes the gravity of the situation, eyes narrowing as they look behind Ralak to scan his surroundings. He’s far from all of the neighbouring marui pods, being the last pod along the mangroves. But if someone were nearby, they could eavesdrop with ease.
Zu’té lightly nudges his head, giving Ralak the silent signal to enter his marui. Ralak moves slowly, a little surprised by his change in...heart. Annoyed with Ralak's sluggish movement, Zu’té rolls his eyes.
“What? You expect an invitation?" Zu’té asks the rhetorical question loud and clear, watching in awe as his not-so-little brother stands almost eye to eye with him. "...you've grown."
"Surprised?" Ralak mutters, ears spasming from his brother's comment—shuffling past him.
"Don't get smart with me, little brother." Zu’té snaps with his ears pinned to his skull, automatically slipping back into disciplining his younger brother like he once used to. Ralak fights the smirk pulling at his lips, making his way further into the neat, well-decorated marui.
——
Ralak came home that night, as he does most nights nowadays with a heavy tail and tensed muscles. That night he broke the news that he had no luck with Tonowari. That he remained tied to his duties as a warrior, teacher, hunter and evidently more…that you had no knowledge of. 
But he made it clear that none of them came before you—his most important duty of all. He promised not only to your father, but also to you, to put you first, no matter what. That he will do whatever he needs to ensure your safety is never compromised. Even if it means putting his pride aside, and asking for help, as he did that night. 
The desire to prepare for your son's arrival grew with each passing day, making you nest like an expecting ikran. You smoked enough meat to last for the next couple months, and gathered as many herbs and fruits that you could manage.
Weaving has been one of your more frequent tasks, making a couple slings and a few more blankets. Ralak was quick to build the cot when he got into a nesting frenzy, too.
But regardless of what your next task was, it was always a little bit harder…a little bit more tiring. Until you were so round and heavy that most of them became unachievable. Your size started to affect you in more ways than just physical. It started to affect you mentally, too. Playing tricks on your mind, making you think negatively about yourself.
And Ralak picked up on that very quickly. 
——
As you wait for his return, you give the marui another deep clean. You take small breaks often, sitting down whenever you become short of breath.
Whilst you sweep the patio, you see your mate trudge up the stairs, ears pinned back and exhaustion wrinkled into his forehead. Ralak sees you and wastes no time to take the broom from you and pull you into his chest. 
He holds you in silence. Comfortable silence. Savouring how you feel against his body. The thud of your heartbeat, the warmth of your skin. You’re his safe place. His home. As he is yours. His embrace is what you look forward to the most after a long day apart. 
Perhaps this is what you both need. A moment of peace and quiet, where your focus is purely on the person in front of you. A break from the mayhem that life can entail, from the pull and push of the rough tides. Serenity. All to be interrupted by Ralak pulling away, holding you by the arms to create some distance between you two. 
Furrowed brows and beaded eyes stare back at you when you look at him. He’s staring at you, but not at you. His eyes pierce into your chest, and then peel away to flick down at his stomach. A smile creeps on his face, and a huff of air through his nostrils as he chuckles softly. His gaze finally meets yours, and he lets go of your arms.
“Your milk is in.” He almost whispers, his fingertips grazing against your stomach. 
“What?” You breathe, caught off guard to say the least. Your head snaps down, eyes searching every inch of your shawl to find two large, growing wet spots on it. “O-Oh.” You stutter, looking back up at him, catching sight of the glistening liquid on his stomach. “Oh.” 
Your cheeks grow hot when blood rushes to them from embarrassment. Just another thing pregnancy has bestowed upon you. “Sorry, Lak.” You turn to reach for the nearby cloth that hangs by the window. 
“What for?” He asks innocently—a little confused. 
He watches as you wipe him down in an almost frantic manner. He stills your movements by grasping your wrists, causing you to drop the cloth. He brings your hands to his lips.
“Mawey [Calm]. Nothing to be ashamed of.” He speaks into the palm of your hands. You hear his words, but you still can’t bring yourself to look at him. “Hey.” 
He lets go, and cups your cheek, urging you to look at him. When you finally do, he’s smiling down at you, allowing his hand to slip down to the bow of your shoulder—his fingers hooking underneath the hem of your shawl. “Let me clean you up, hm?” 
“Oh—okay.” You stutter shyly, feeling his fingers slip under the woven fabric to slip it off your shoulders. “W-Wait.”
And when the material hits the floor, a shiver shakes your spine. Your breasts are exposed to the cool air, sticky nipples hardened into peaks for him to see. They’ve darkened in colour, and are even a little more puffy too.
Honestly, you weren’t the biggest fan of them anymore. You wore thicker tops or shawls to conceal them, just as you did your stomach with your new…stripes. But Ralak loves them, always stealing a glance at every given chance. 
But to know that they’re full with milk makes him feel…on edge. 
His eyes bore into them, unapologetically taking in every detail. His smile falls into a slight smirk, which then droops into a thin line. His jaw flutters as he grits his teeth, biting back his urges. 
“Don’t stare.” You whisper shyly, covering your chest with one arm and your belly with the other. He looks at you, and reaches for your arms, peeling them away from your body. 
“Beautiful.” He states as a fact, intertwining his fingers with yours. “So beautiful, carrying my child.” 
“‘m really not.” You mumble, looking away in shame. You feel his hand move to your face, two fingers tugging at your jaw to have you look up at him. When you finally give in to his nudges, you see the look on his face. It was as if you had deeply and personally offended him.
“You are.” He insists softly. 
You simply shake your head, arms instinctively wrapping around your chest and belly once more. “I don’t feel it. I don’t even know how you can look at me and say that.” 
Ralak almost feels angered by your words. It hurts him to hear you speak of yourself in such a way, especially when it’s far from the truth. If anything, he’s even more attracted to you. Knowing that this is what your body is going through to bring his child into the world has made him even more appreciative of you. 
“Never say such things.” He husks firmly, removing your hands from your body and keeping them in his grasp. “Do not hide.” 
“You have barely touched me.” You retaliate, voice cracking with hurt. 
“Not for that reason.” He’s quick to cut you short, making sure you know that the last thing stopping him from pouncing on you every chance he gets is the way you look. Absolutely not. 
“If that’s what you need to tell yourself, then—”
Frustrated, Ralak shoves your hand onto his loincloth, pressing it firmly against the bulge that strains against the material. “You feel that?” 
You do, you feel every inch of it, hard and warm against your palm. Your face heats up even more, cheeks staining a bright red. Your breath turns raggedy as you struggle to find the words to say. 
“Hm?” He grunts as he presses himself even harder against the palm of your hand. 
“Y-Yes.” You stutter. Ralak turns you around, pressing himself into you from behind. His heated lips are flush against your ear, hot breath prickling your skin. 
“This is what you do to me.” Ralak husks into the shell of your ear, grinding his bulge into the swell of your ass. “Day after day.” He groans almost painfully, filled with all sorts of emotions. He holds you firm against his body, grazing his bottom teeth against the lobe of your ear. “All it takes is a single glance.” His words have your clit pulsing under your tewng and your thighs rubbing against one another. “The sight of you…of your swollen breasts… your swollen womb…” he hisses, on edge and high strung as he caresses your belly, “…it makes me lose myself.” 
“Fuck.” You breathe, reaching behind you to tug his loincloth down in a frantic manner. You feel his lips nibble and nip at the skin behind your ear, making their way down the back of your neck. You can’t help but moan from the feeling, your already stiff nipples tingling from his gentle touches. 
You feel his hands wander over your stomach and under your tewng, his fingers fondling your folds as he gently parts them. He grunts against your neck, inhaling your scent deep in his lungs as his hips stutter into you. Your stickiness coats his fingers as they slip and slide over your hardened nub. 
You tug even harder at his loincloth, struggling to get the annoying thing off him. You let out a frustrated grunt, and he lets loose an amused chuckle, peppering soft kisses down to the bow of your shoulder.
“What is it? Need me to take you right here?” He husks low, voice muffled by his continuous kisses. “…where someone may see?” 
Right, you’re on the patio. 
Out in the open, under the light of the moon. Ralaks marui pod is far from the village on a cul de sac. The only thing further than here is sand, open water and a couple smaller islands off in the distance. However, there' is's always the slim chance of a na’vi or two going for a late night swim or on a romantic adventure far from the village.
But you simply didn’t care. 
If anything it only riles you up more—the riskiness of it all, the thought of being caught. The need to be sneaky and quiet, when all you want to do is moan his name until your voice goes dim. It seems that Ralak feels similarly as you feel him throb against you, excited to take you where you stand. 
“I don’t mind.” You huff shakily, finally tugging the cloth down enough for his cock to spring out. “Do you?” 
You feel him smile against your shoulder when you grip it in your hand, smooth teeth bumping into your skin as his free hand cups your full breast. 
“Not at all, my tanhì.” He breathes, gently kneading the soft flesh, feeling the trickle of your milk flow over the back of his hand. 
“Good.” Your lungs tremble beneath his touch, hand desperately stroking his length. Yet he remains gentle with his touches, pinning your clit between his two fingers as he rubs you slowly. “Then hurry…I need you inside.” 
Ralak quickly moves his kisses back up your neck, and you feel the tip of his tongue tickle the lobe of your ear before he suckles on it lightly. Tingles ripple up your spine, sending your head into a shiver as you lean into his mouth. His fingers dip into your soaking core just as he rolls your tender nipple between his other two digits. 
It’s all too much. All-consuming. Making you gasp for air in lungs that won’t seem to fill. Fog clouds your head. How did you get here? How did this happen? Fuck, it doesn’t matter. Not when you feel like this.
You’re already so sensitive as it is, so tender and delicate, like silk under his fingers. He pushes his two fingers even deeper inside your aching pussy, curling them and earning a whimper from your lips and quiver of your tail.
“Not too loud, oeyä sevin muntxate [my pretty/beautiful wife]”. Ralak whispers the hushed praise, knowing it’s what you need to hear. 
You’re so much warmer around his fingers than usual, so much softer. Wetter. With each curl of his digits comes out a squelch as he works you open for his cock that he’s been dying to plunge inside you. 
You wrap your leg around his, perching your heel on the side of thigh as you lean all your weight back into him. He steadies his knees, supporting you with ease. Your head slumps back into his shoulder, opening up your neck to his hot breaths, an arm reaching behind you to fist his hair. 
His brows are tense and his breath is heavy. He’s overcome with arousal and he can’t keep his composure as your scent grows stronger now your throat is directly under his nose. Truthfully it’s been too long, he knows that. He knows he’s been too protective, too cautious. Depriving you and him of the touch that’s necessary between a mated pair. 
His fingers slip out of you, now expertly unravelling the loose knot just barely keeping your tewng on you. As it drops to the floor his fingers are back where they were, rubbing sloppy circles into your clit before spreading your pussylips apart. His hips stutter as he attempts to align the crown of his cock with your slit and finally buck forward when he senses your little, exposed hole. 
His cock sinks inside you at an achingly slow pace—inch by inch. You let loose a lengthy moan when you feel him fill you completely, no longer caring if anyone hears you. 
“Hnng—I missed you.” The gruff words slip out as he bottoms out inside your cunt. He has longed to feel your gummy walls squeeze oh-so tightly around his cock. “You alright?” He checks on you in a daze, voice thick with want—with the desire to pummel your little pussy until your voice is hoarse. But the last thing he wants is to hurt his heavily pregnant mate. 
“Mhm, ple-ase.” You purr with need, closing your eyes and relaxing completely into him. Trusting someone this much feels too good. Ralak moves slowly, pumping his cock in and out of you in a languid haze, tickling your sensitive clit with just the tips of his fingers. 
“Tanhì—haah—you are squeezing me so tight.” Ralak moans as his strokes grow with intent. His hips roll deep, shoving and forcing his cock inside your sensitive cunt until his swollen balls kiss your clit. 
He’s unapologetically coaxing out the orgasm you’ve been denied for so long with only a few lazy thrusts. And he knows it. He can feel it from the way you clench around him. From the way your thighs tremble a little more after each deep stroke…from the sweet, filthy noises that shamelessly drip from your lips. 
“Oh my—Ralak! I-I’m gonna—” You sputter the words between choked sounds, eyes welling with tears from the burn between your legs. 
“I know, I know.” He huffs, dragging his hot tongue along the length of your throat. The truth is, he’s close too. But he can’t allow himself to finish inside you. He can’t risk letting himself go and pounding recklessly into your poor, tender pussy. He’s already had a long day. “Let it out, tìyawn [love].”
Its almost cathartic. 
Weeks of pent up frustration released in a few minutes, leaving you near convulsing in his grip. You can’t stop the flutter of your pussy walls if you try, it’s out of your control, much like the surge of white fire going right through you. Your legs fight to stay open and you hold onto your mate to keep you standing. Gurgled noises spill from your lips as your body shudders under him. His hips still, keeping his cock buried to the hilt inside your quivering cunt as he holds you tight, supporting you until you finish riding out your high. 
“Good girl. Good girl.” He praises you in a hushed, shaky voice, extremely wound up from feeling you flourish so beautifully under his touch. It's a miracle that he didn't empty himself inside you right then and there. 
“But you—but you haven’t—” You sputter, collapsing into him as your legs give out. 
“I know. It is alright..” He hums, carefully leading you inside the marui to lay you on the bed. 
“Thought you were c-cleaning me u-up. Not mak-king m-more of a mess.” Your breath is relentlessly hitching as you watch him hastily remove his tewng that’s been digging into his thighs. A reminder of exactly how quickly things happened. 
“You are right.” Ralak tsks, cocking a brow as he stares down at you with a predatory leer. “I did say that, didn’t I?” 
Ralak situates himself between your legs, crouching over you, ensuring there’s plenty of space between him and your stomach. His cock presses between your sticky folds as his lips press against your clammy neck. He tastes the faint saltiness of the thin film of sweat on your skin as he drags his lips down your chest—between your breasts. 
“Lak…” You whisper, back bowing against the bed. 
You’re way too sensitive right now, like an exposed nerve. His eyes snap up and lock with yours, responding to you moaning his name. His tongue darts out, sampling a taste of the spilled milk on your breast. Then his eyes slam shut, tensed brows and scrunched nose telling you that he’s unsure of the flavour in his mouth. 
Eyes widening, you’re taken aback by his actions, feelings of shyness and embarrassment creeping back in. Fisting his hair, you pull gently at his head to pry him off your chest, only for him to resist your tugs. 
“You shouldn’t have done—why’d you do—” You struggle to find the right words at this moment, flustered and nervous that he’d do that. 
But what leaves you even more speechless is when he opens his eyes to reveal dots for pupils, a look you only see when he’s high strung. And then he eagerly takes your nipple into his mouth, latching on and ensuring the suction is airtight. The tip of his tongue flicks at your hardened nipple a few times before he gently suckles at your breast.
A tingling sensation radiates your chest and you feel it in the pit of your stomach. Your breath catches in your throat, a little surprised by his lewd behaviour. And soon, all you can hear are the repeated, muffled gulps of your warm milk flowing down his throat.
“W-What are yo-ou d-doing, my love?” You mewl, squirming underneath him from the strange feeling. He unlatches harshly with an audible pop, leaving your pointed nipple misshapened and exposed. 
“Cleaning you.” He huffs quickly as he catches his breath, diving back in to lap up the milk leaking from your other neglected breast. Your head throws back in what is undeniably pleasure now, legs tightening around his waist. You look down in a daze, watching him feast greedily, feeling his hips begin to stammer against you. 
“Fuck—I didn’t know this i-is what you meant.” You’re finally calming down from your orgasm now, already feeling your body gearing up to have another. His desperation is pungent. Evident in the way his cock grinds between your soft, slippery folds, scenting your cunt with it. 
He pulls off you with yet another pop, his tongue swiping his bottom lip so not to let the bead of milk dripping off of it go to waste. He’s huffing and puffing against you, trailing his wet kisses down your curved stomach as he tucks your legs back. You feel his hot breath against your thighs and your legs tremble in anticipation. 
“Kalin, kalin [sweet, sweet].” He mumbles, kissing your pulsing clit. “Oeyä kalin [My sweet].” 
“Oh shit.” You let loose the breathy curse when you feel his lips pucker around your over sensitive nub, and squeal when he begins to suck on it too. Your hands fly to his head, grasping at his hair to shove his face further into your cunt. He devours you with exhilaration, lapping at your leaking slit to savour your sweetness. 
His cock is aching now. He’s so hard it’s painful. He can’t stop throbbing and his cock strains so hard it’s swollen. He wants to shove himself back inside you— your warmth—and hump at you until his marked you with his essence. 
He can’t help but touch himself as he pleasures you. Stroking his cock with every lick of your pussy. Thrusting into his hand when he feels you throb against his tongue. He’s groaning and grunting into your cunt, urgently chasing his own release as he sucks on you for his own pleasure. 
Too busy to realise that you’ve been begging him to slow down a bit. That you’re too sensitive. That you feel like you may explode if he continues. 
“Ralak! I just came! F-Fuck—” You yank his head away, hurriedly rubbing at your sore pussy.
Ralak pants for air, pulling back into a standing position to reveal that he’s been fucking his hand this entire time. It’s glossy with his precum as it dribbles down his strake. He’s frantically stroking himself, staring brazenly down at your pussy—taking in how it’s flushed and swollen, glistening with his spit and your slick. It’s a delicious sight, tempting him to go in for another taste. 
He’s close and you can tell, his hips are stuttering erratically and he’s groaning like a dying man. You sit up slowly, bringing yourself to your knees as you shuffle your way closer to him. Your chest is level to his cock and you cup your full breasts with both hands, pushing them together only inches away from him. 
He seems a little confused, unsure of what your next move may be. Fuck, you aren’t even sure of what your next move is. But you’re going with your instinct, pinching your nipples until they begin to leak milk. His brows jump, the sight of that sends his hips stammering into his hand. With each huff and thrust sends his cock a little closer to you, until his swollen cockhead is poking at your breasts. 
You shuffle a little closer, moaning softly from watching him get off like this. Then you feel his sticky cock slip in between your breasts, and his hand falls to your shoulders. 
Now he’s fucking your tits in a frenzy, his leaking tip prodding at your lips. You stick your tongue out for a taste, allowing his cockhead to slip and slide against it. He’s groaning and moaning, eyes fixed in the sight beneath him. The pressure from his fat cock between your breasts only makes you leak even more, and that’s when he loses it completely.
“Oh, fuck.” He growls, thrusting hard enough to shove his cockhead into your mouth. You feel him throb violently against your tongue, his thick, hot load coating your cheeks until they're full to the brim. He pulls out as soon as he realises what he’s down, immediately reaching for your bedside bucket to spit in. 
But you shake your head, glossy eyes staring up at him as you swallow his cum with a singular, loud gulp. His eyes bulge, his hands flying to cup your cheeks as he quickly searches your eyes. You simply smile, using a thumb to swipe the single bead of cum on your chin and pop it into your mouth. 
Features softening, he returns the smile, chest heaving wildly as it swells with pride. 
——
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ladywhistlewrites · 2 days
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Hiiiiiii can I request a wife x Anthony bridgerton story where they are newly married and back from their honeymoon so Anthony works a lot where reader nearly never sees him so when she goes to talk to him he snaps at her and takes his stress out on her and reader gives him the silent treatment until she feels like it’s enough. Pls make him work for her forgiveness 😭😭😭😭😭
hii thanks for sending an ask!!🩷 hope you like it :))
Anthony Bridgerton x wife! reader
***
The morning sun casts a golden glow through the windows of your shared home, a beacon of warmth and new beginnings. You and Anthony have just returned from your honeymoon, the memories and whispered promises still fresh in your minds. Every corner of your home feels infused with the love and joy of your new life together, a life that seems to stretch out before you with infinite possibilities.
The first few days are blissful. You and Anthony spend lazy mornings entwined in each other’s arms, sharing laughter over breakfast, and planning your future with excitement. His touch, his voice, everything about him fills you with an overwhelming sense of contentment. You are his, and he is yours.
But as the days turn into weeks, you notice a change. Anthony, ever the diligent worker, begins to spend more time in his study, pouring over documents and attending meetings. At first, you understand. You admire his dedication and are proud of his accomplishments. Yet, gradually, his presence becomes a rarity. He leaves early and returns late, often slipping into bed after you’ve fallen asleep and rising before you awaken.
One evening, after another long day of waiting for him, you decide to confront him. The house is quiet, the only sound the ticking of the clock in the hallway. You find him in his study, hunched over his desk, the dim light casting shadows on his face.
“Anthony,” you call softly, stepping into the room. He doesn’t look up, his attention firmly on the papers before him. You take a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “We need to talk.”
He finally glances up, his expression a mix of exhaustion and impatience. “What is it, my love? I’m very busy.”
The endearment feels hollow, and your heart aches. “I know you’re busy, but I miss you. We barely even spend time together . It feels like you’ve forgotten about me, about us.” you murmur
He sighs, rubbing his temples. “I haven’t forgotten. I’m doing this for us, for our future. Can’t you understand that?” he says with venom in his mouth.
“I understand, but what good is the future if we’re not happy now?” The words tumble out, your voice rising with emotion. “You’re consumed by your work, Anthony. You’re neglecting our marriage.”
His eyes flash with irritation, and before you can react, he snaps. “Just mind your own business, will you? I’m doing what needs to be done.” he spats.
You stand there, stunned and hurt, his harsh words cutting deeper than you’d imagined possible. Without another word, you turn and leave, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the silent house.
In the days that follow, the pain of his outburst lingers. You decide to give him the silent treatment, unable to bear the thought of speaking to him. You avoid him, your interactions reduced to strained silences and cold civility. He tries to reach out, but you turn away, your hurt and pride keeping you at a distance.
Anthony, realizing his mistake, begins to make amends. Each morning, you find fresh flowers on your bedside table, their vibrant colors a stark contrast to the dull ache in your heart. He sends you beautiful gowns, their fine fabrics a reminder of his thoughtfulness. Every day, he apologizes, his voice earnest and filled with regret.
“I’m sorry, my love,” he says repeatedly. “Please forgive me.”
A week passes, and you find yourself missing him more than you can bear. The sight of the flowers, the sound of his apologies, all begin to chip away at your resolve. One evening, as the sun sets and the house is bathed in the soft glow of twilight, you find him in his study once more.“Anthony,” you say quietly. He looks up, hope flickering in his eyes. “I forgive you. But you must promise me, promise me that you will never speak to me like that again.”
He pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he might never let go. “I’ve missed you too, more than you can imagine.”
You stand there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, the world outside fading away. In that moment, you know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, you will face them together, bound by love and the promise of a future filled with happiness.
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igotanidea · 3 days
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3 minutes: Jason Todd x reader
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Warnings: SMUT MDNI! swearing
***
Hey Jason, can I ask you something?
Y/N and Jason were cuddling and kissing on the couch, things started to become a little heated and then, out of the sudden, she got into a questioning mood.
Obviously, Jason wasn’t exactly content with the unexpected shift, but gritting his teeth and fighting the urge to just continue with the steamy make out session, he nodded with the calm expression on his face.
If only she knew how much it took from him to keep it.  
“Sure thing, babe. What’s on your mind?”
“Which girl would you prefer: a skinny, pretty and a little sad, shy one or a little heavier, sassy, funny and energetic one?”
“Well…” he muttered, considering the answer. He was going to be as honest as possible without hurting Y/n’s feelings. “While I suppose initially a pretty girl would get my attention I do like when there’s more depth to people. And sassy humor is pretty much essential for me?”
“Was that a question or an answer?” she teased, catching up with his hesitant tone.
“Don’t you know me? I think that by now you should realize that looks are not everything.”
“Duh!” she chuckled, kissing the tip of his nose playfully “Did you think I was with you cause you are handsome?” she repeated her action “Cause you are not.” The seriousness of her tone was bellied by a grin. “At all.”
“Oh really? And here I thought I was your personal male supermodel.” He laughed wholeheartedly pushing her away as she teased him. “But hey, it’s on the inside what counts. And when it comes to that – you got plenty going on.”
“So I’m like your kinder joy?”
“That’s actually quite an accurate description. Sweet on the inside if you are patient enough to tear through the foil.”
“Wow. Um- I didn’t actually expect you to use such an illustrative comparison….”
“Yeah, that’s me.” He smirked with a face full of complacency. Always in your corner when you are feeling down.”
“Thank you… I guess I’ve been feeling a little insecure lately. Except not the little. And not lately.”
“Good thing you got me here then, huh? Now can we please forget about that and focus on us?”
“Mh. Where were we then?” she whispered seductively leaning forwards brushing her lips over his softly.
“Right where we belong.” He responded by pulling her to him, kissing passionately, trailing lips down her neck, feeling the heat rise again.
“Yeah… Yeah, I think I’m starting to remember something…”
“What do you remember, baby?” Jason whispered against her skin, caressing her shoulder, pulling the strap of her top down.
“Something good…” she hummed, closing eyes and letting him continue his ministrations “Something so good…”
“Care to share?” In a blink of an eye she was laying on the couch on her back, Jason’s hands moving over her belly “or would you rather keep it a secret?” he leaned down nipping at her earlobe.
“Isn't it exciting to know that there are some things that stay just between us...?” She moaned softly, tilting her head and caressing his chest.
“Definitely.” Jason nuzzled his nose into her chest, inhaling her scent “Just you and me having something special.” Once more he captured her lips, tangling fingers in her hair, keeping her head in place, not that she was going anywhere.
The soft sigh that left her lips only aroused him more when he rolled on his back, pulling her with him so she was on top, straddling him.
“And I wouldn’t have it any other way, princess.”
She laid on top of him, her full body weight pressing him into the mattress, tracing hands down his sides, reaching for the hem of his T-shirt. The effect was almost immediate. Jason arched into her touch, his cock hardening at the feel of her fingers on his bare skin.
“You drive me crazy…” he grabbed her waist and pulled her closer, grinding against her, though still in clothes. Regardless, the undeniable need for friction was too much to just lay still. “But I wouldn’t want anyone else doing it to me…”
“I sure as hell hope you wouldn't...” She kissed his neck, grinding her hips on him as well.
“Fuck, I don’t even want to imagine another woman-“ he gripped her hips, continuing the movement.
“Don’t ever mention another woman when we’re together.” She almost hissed, cutting his sentence in the middle, biting on his neck, leaving a hickey and licking the stinging place.
There was no way to deny that her possessiveness and marking the territory attitude only turned him harder.
“I’m not planning on it.” He responded, tangling fingers in her hair, guiding her head lower on his neck. “Besides, I already got the only woman I need.”
“The only one you’ll ever need.” She corrected, raising her gaze on him.
“The only one I’ll ever need…” his tone was hoarse and sultry as he leaned to her again.
Being stopped with Y/N’s grip on his chin.
“Be a good boy and strip for me, will you?” She gave him a look full of fire that left him lost like a little puppy, ready to follow the orders of the owner.
“Well since you asked so nicely—” Y/N moved away from him to give him space to undress and the sudden loss of contact made him almost tear his clothes away. Anything to get her body against him again, not that he was going to let her win this. “But remember, baby, payback’s a bitch…”
“Well then, how about I make it up to you then?”
She slid down, standing on the bed foot, starting to take off her clothing piece by piece. Turning it into a sensual striptease. Tracing her body while removing her shirt, inch by painful inch. Shaking her hips while taking off the skirt. Bending down in a little provocative manner during the removal of her tights.
Almost daring him to make a move on her.
But Jason was hypnotized with her every gesture. Eyes wide with desire, hands clutching the sheets, wanting both to pin her underneath him and to watch this show forever. Evidence of his lust was obvious in his naked body, not that he would ever do much to hide it. If anything – the hardness was rather supposed to be exposed for her to lure her in. 
Nonetheless, Y/N seemed to be lost in the world of her own, continuing her dance. Caressing and playing with her breast before unclasping the bra, sliding it off her body, freeing her chest from confinements, and finally -- sliding down her panties. The moment they both were waiting for, one more than the other.
“Fuck, Y/N…. You do know just how to turn me on, don’t you?”
In response, she crawled to the head of the bed, leaning on all fours, while searching for his lips.
“I can’t get enough of you…” his hands slid down her back, all the way to her butt, kneading the flesh there.
“That’s kind of the plan…”  she pressed her chest to his torso, brushing over him like a wild feline, tracing kisses down his neck, unrestrained by anything.
“Yes, kitten… show me how you want me…” he slapped her ass playfully, one hand kept on palming her butt, while he used the other to start stroking himself.
“Oh now, you’re doing my job for me….?” With a gentle pat, she removed his fingers from his cock and wrapped her own around him.
“Fuck… fuck, Y/N, yes… keep doing that baby….” He groaned, closing eyes and moving against her hand. “Make me yours…”
“You’re going to be a good boy for me?” she stroked him harder, focusing her eyes on him.
“Yes, yes ma’am, I’ll be whatever you want, just don’t stop…”
“Don't worry my pretty baby... I’m not stopping any time soon...” She flicked her thumb over the head of his cock, gathering the pre cum and pulling it to her mouth, licking the droplets with the tip of her tongue.
“So goddamn hot…” Jason groaned from the back of his throat.
“You can touch me too, my little bird…” she whispered in his ear, sliding a little closer to him once more, making it more than obvious where she wanted his touch.
“Like that?” he cupped her breast, letting the familiar weight adjust to his hand. Squeezing and twisting her nipple in a way that made her squirm and gasp for air. The way he knew she liked.”
“Oh yes…”
“That’s right, kitten. You enjoy my touch, cause it’s the only one you’ll ever get for the rest of your life. You’re mine.”
“Fuck, I love it when you get a little possessive.” She placed her hands on his on her chest, showing him to touch her harder.
“And I love it when you get so vulnerable and open with me…”
“Oh I am open.” She smirked, hooking one leg over his hip, straddling him, but not taking in yet “I am so open. And so wet.”
“I can tell.” He grabbed her waist, trying to pull her down, kissing like a wild man, unable to stop even though she kept on pulling away from time to time. Purposefully. To leave him wanting and needy. “Don’t fucking do that, kitten.” He groaned chasing her lips, his tone both a threat and a pleading and with the sudden pressure on her body she knew she would be sporting bruises the other day. “You know exactly what you’re doing to me, don’t you>?”
“Yeah, I do. But don’t worry, I will abuse my power in all the pleasurable ways.” Y/n hummed lifting her hips, hovering mere inches over his shaft.
Jason’s eyes darkened with desire.
“Abuse me all you want. Just … don’t… fucking… stop…  Please…”
“Oh my pretty boy... My heart is breaking seeing you hurting...” She slowly sank to his length. “Is it better now...?” She tenderly brushed hair from his sweaty forehead, observing his eyes falling closed feeling her wrapped around him like that.
“So much better…” he gasped, caressing her back, wanting so much more, but frozen in this moment. He buried face in his hair, breathing in her scent. The smell of her shampoo, the musky aroma of incoming sex and the individual one of her body. Irreplaceable. Hitting all his olfactory sensors, bringing out the feeling of home. She was his home. His everything.  “Y/n….” he whispered “fuck…”
 “Is it warm for my little bird?”
“Yeah, it’s getting warmer, all right. And most of that heat is because of you.” He nibbled on her neck, leaving love bites on the entire length.
“Cause I’m so hot?” she started rocking her hips on him
“You have no fucking idea.” He grabbed her waist and started thrusting forwards with almost extraordinary energy and enthusiasm. “And I fucking love it.”
As the unexpected force of his movement made her jump and stumble forwards, she instinctively reached for his shoulders to find balance and purchase.
“I got you kitten. Hold on tight.” He catches her easily, pulling her down on him easily, digging fingers into her flesh, guiding their movements together. “That’s right. Ride me, kitten.”
One of her hands rested on his shoulder blade, the other on his chest as she picked up the pace. She closed her eyes, throwing her head back, allowing him to control the movements of her hips while thrusting upwards. His eyes were focused solely on the way their bodies unite, making sure to his just the right spot inside her, to make her yearn, burn and shudder with need and pleasure. So fucking beautiful towering over him, lost in the tryst.
Just like him.
There was something erotic about the way she takes him inside to the halt, and then lets him out. Her body opening to him like a wild flower opens to the sun, allowing its warmth and love kisses to caress its petals.
That’s what she meant to him.
She was like a rose – beautiful but not helpless, with thorns.
Like a poppy – vibrant and standing out amongst other flowers on the meadow.
Like a  cherry blossom – magical, soft to the touch but also so ephemeral and fragile if not looked after properly.
He was going to take care of her.
Forever.
“Jason…” she moaned, pressing his head into her chest, running fingers through his hair “Jason…” in the last surge of desire she grabbed his cheeks and looked straight into his eyes.
“Don’t ever stop Y/N—”
“Never-“ she gasped, not breaking eye contact for even a second, seeing the universe in his eyes. “Never-oh!”
As their climaxes approached and hit them like a tsunami wave, bringing the breath of freshness and coolness, but also threatening to wash them off the face of the earth, they held tightly to one another. Like she was his lifeline and he was her rock.
Just like in the biblical parable, that says you cannot build a house on the sand, Jason and Y/N were one’s another solid foundation. A base to build a house on.
For house is not a place, but a person.
Even when he fell back on the bed, exhausted and sweaty, facing the ceiling with mind reeling from love, pleasure and inexplicable need to lock her away from the world, his hold on her waist did not falter for a second. Only now, it was much more tender, softer, though still needy. The irony of the situation was truly textbook. She couldn’t be closer to him and yet, he was still missing her.
After a moment of heavy breathing she climbed off his lap (more like rolled off) and took the rightful spot on the side of the bed, which was hers by design. Even though they were both on their backs, their bodies found a way to one another as she reached for his hand entwining their fingers. Simple gesture, nothing really, and yet amongst lovers sharing true love, if that thing was to ever exist outside of novels, it meant everything.
After a moment, as on cue, they both rolled over to look into each other’s eyes.
“Hi.” She smiled cupping his cheek
“Hi yourself, kitten.” He responded by taking her wrist and kissing her knuckles softly.
“Did you know that statistically the round between couples lasts 3 minutes?”
“Way to ruin the mood with your nonsensical facts, Y/N!”
“it’s not nonsensical. I’m only saying that you are far more than stereotypical to me.”
“Because of how long I can last?” he raised an eyebrow  incredulously, but it was quickly followed by a glint of amusement in his eyes. Despite everything he loved being praised on his performance skills.
“Because of everything-“ she whispered lovingly.
“Oh, stop now.” He grunted, pulling her to his chest, forcing her face down onto his skin so she wouldn’t notice the tears brimming in his eyes. “Otherwise I might think you love me or something.” A single tear escaped his eye at the feeling of being complete.
“I’d hate to implant false beliefs in your head.”
“That would be such a mess, right?”
“How about we keep on cleaning it together?” her soft voice reached his ears, serving as a counterpart for his feigned gruffness.
“Now that doesn’t sound so bad.” He smiled, pulling the covers on their entangled forms, allowing himself to fall asleep, knowing she was there to stay.
A comfort that made him feel warmer than under the blanket.
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mochinomnoms · 3 days
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How would Jade react to a prefect who already knows all about foraging? If he had already caught feelings, and if he was still just meeting the..
Example: He's out and about because Mountain Lovers Club and the prefect is out there with a friend. He finds them playing 'death or dinner' with mushrooms, berries, and other plants.
Love your work! Your stories always make me laugh.
I finished the last episode of The Apothecary Diaries a few weeks ago and this made me think of a semi-mad scientist Prefect who is super knowledgeable about herbs and plants. They're scarily good at potions, and are able to identify poisons with just a sniff and a silver cup.
“They are also prone to straight up eat those poisonous plants because they just want to know what it feels like”.
Jade is rather fond of you, infatuated even! Mostly due to your straight-up feral antics in potions, as you and Grim are constantly causing all sorts of mayhem with your potions. He loves watching you as there's never a boring moment with you around, and you're so diligent with trying again and again to get your potion just right, Jade might just say he's charmed!
Come a random, warm Saturday, when Jade is out hiking and taking photos of the landscape, that that charm turns into a full-blown crush. It's quite peaceful, until he hears some rustling nearby. He softens his footsteps, cautious in case it's a wild animal, until he hears voices.
Peeking through the foliage of the bushes and trees, Jade saw you and Ruggie picking at a wild blackberry bush. You two were quietly sharing ideas on what you could do with your share, evidently splitting your findings in half.
“Think I can mix this with the dandelions for a salad?”
“No, blackberries are too tart. You should make them into a sauce, you got those discounted pork chops from Sam's, right? I asked him to save some for you.”
“Yeah, I almost forgot about those I was so busy, thanks. I can do that...hey, what about those mushrooms down there?”
Jade watched as you looked towards where Ruggie was pointing, at a cluster of orange-yellow funnel shaped mushrooms. To the novice, they looked like the chanterelle mushroom. Edible and delightful in a saute, the ones that Ruggie were pointing at were not chanterelles, but false chanterelles.
You gasped in delight, your eyes practically glittering as you squealed, “Oh! Neat!”
They looked similar, but the gills were different and the colors more white. Jade's eyes widen as you reached for them; they weren't fatal, but they would cause some stomach issues. Jade could use those blackberries anyways, so he decided to step in and 'save' you in exchange for a third of the berries.
“I recommend that you don't eat those, those are false chanterelles. They are rather harsh on the stomach.”
You both jumped as Jade emerged from the thicket, Ruggie giving him a wave as your face soured. Ruggie opened his mouth, the beginning of a 'thanks' leaving his lips before you bluntly replied.
“I know what I'm doing, thanks.” Jade blinked as you took out a small knife, cutting the cluster up and throwing them in your pouch. “And you're wrong, they're not false chanterelles.”
Jade slowly blinked again as you turned to him, displaying a small orange mushroom in your fingertips. Looking at it closer, Jade noted that the gills were well-developed and unforked.
“These are jack-o-lanterns, they're poisonous, so you were right that they are 'harsh' on the stomach.”
Jade's open fell slightly open, and Ruggie let out a harsh yelp, as you popped it your mouth and started chewing.
“Prefect!” Jade stepped back as Ruggie rushed over to you and attempted to pry your chewing mouth open. “I thought I said no more eating poisons! Weeds or herbs! The nurse is going to murder me! This is why I don't take you foraging with me!”
Jade watched as you swallowed, just as Ruggie managed to open your mouth, sticking your tongue out and saying 'aaaah' mockingly to him. Like you weren't even worried that you'd just swallowed poison.
“I told you, I'm super resistant to poisons! I used to eat them all the time!” You closed your eyes and smile, hands on your cheeks as you gushed.
“This one is gastrointestinal only, it leads to nausea, vomiting, and sometimes diarrhea.” You continued squealing like a schoolgirl about her crush.
“But my favorite are the ones that make your tongue go numb and body tingly until you're convulsing on the ground and twitching! They feel so electrifying! Aaa! How am I supposed to resist?”
Ruggie continued to fuss over you, dragging you back to the main path and muttering about having the nurse keep you on a leash. So concerned with you and your health, neither he nor you noticed Jade's wide eyes and red flush as you left.
Once you two were out of earshot, Jade clutched at his chest, right where his heart was, and fell to his knees like he'd been shot. Perhaps cupid finally decided to let loose the arrow he'd been pointing at Jade's heart for some time.
The glazed look in your eyes, the blissful smile, the near drunken looking flush on your cheeks. You'd looked absolutely breathtaking, you looked like you truly appreciated the mushroom for all its beauty and danger.
Would you eat anything? If jade were to gift you with a bouquet of hemlock and foxglove, would you sniff it and smile at him like he presented you with something priceless? Would you eat a white capped mushroom if he presented to you, taking the gamble between it being a death cap or a paddy straw mushroom?
Would you let him watch you writhe on the ground from eating fugu, the blowfish's poison entering your system? You wanted a tingling sensation? You wanted the pins and needles, the sweating, the tremors as you slowly became paralyzed?
Yes, you would, wouldn't you? Up until he presented you with some activated charcoal (you'd probably have some anyway), holding your hair back so you could puke your stomach out. Then he'd be able to nurse you to health again, up until you excitedly asked him to test out a new concoction with that same glitter in your eyes.
Jade covered his face, letting out a small whining noise as he felt the heat fill his face. Oh, how pathetic he must look, curled into himself and red-faced, squealing into his hands like a child. Can you fault him, though? He's hopelessly in love!
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shuenkio · 2 days
Text
Honeymoon 🌹
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Paring: Heeseung X male!reader
Genre: Fluff & Smut
Cw: heavy nsfw ;) cum inside, belly bulge, unprotected sex etc
Summary: You want to ride that crazy cow ride, so hee offers you a free ride.
Read at your own risk.
Word: 2.5k
Lack of massive perfect words, pardon me if it overdoes [words]
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Getting married to Heeseung after knowing each other for quite some time was a great experience. He was lovely, is a gentleman, loves to take care of you, and he's also a grandma's boy. You've never seen him cursing or doing dirty stuff like normal adults do; instead, he was soft toward you, as if you were his diamond. Or maybe he never showed up? 
He decided to take you to his home for your Honey Moon together since he wanted to show you where he was growing up. 
You agreed without any second thought; before the next thing you know, you're already standing under the hot sunlight, shining through your hat. The wind, the fresh air, and the summer felt so ascending. 
"This is amazing, hee!" You said as you breathed in the cold breeze to your lungs. This is better than city life 360°. 
"I know you would like it, Bob. Now let's go to my grandparents's house; we're going to stay there for a few days." He uttered as a soft smile spread over his face, signing in relief as you loved his idea of coming here.
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Arriving at the destination, Heeseung's grandparents immediately came out and greeted both of you with a warm welcome. Not only do they support you, but they also love you as if you're their grandchild and treat you like everyone else. 
They help to move your luggage and stuff, even though you insist they should not; however, it won't work for them. They also prepared your shared room with Heeseung with a lot of decorations that fit your personality, which show how much they're dragged into your background. 
Thanking them is not enough; you want to pay back for all their hard work by showing your gratitude. Again, they won't let you, as they said your presence was more than enough for them. You were touched by their words, as you're on the edge of a crying river, but Heeseung was there to comfort you, or else you would look so ugly in front of them. They're so sweet. 
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During the day, after spending a night at Heeseung's grandparent's house, they suggested your husband take you somewhere nice for your honeymoon because Heeseung is an outside person. He knew a lot of places, and he was born here too, so don't question him. 
Your husband thought for a while before making up his mind by taking you to the racetrack, where people love going there for horse riding, competition, bets for money, and many more thrilling events. 
Your eyes filled with sparks when he recommended Racetrack for your date. You immediately said yes in an aggressive, cute manner. He was giggling at your reaction, smiling from ear to ear as he adored you even more. 
"Okay, then let's go!" 
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At the racetrack. 
Heeseung brought two tickets for both of you for the show of horse racing. The horse racing was epic; you've never seen such a thing like this before since you're a city boy. 
Now you've realized that this is better than any sports you've watched, and you prefer watching this instead of football because, why not? This is so addictive; riding at a fast pace, reaching for the goal, definitely gives the rollercoaster feeling. 
The show comes to an end with a winner, the one you're rooting for as You scream in victory and celebrate the moment with other people. Your lover was standing there beside you, a bit jealous that you forgot about him; however, he just shrugged it off and formed a delightful smile. Seeing you're happy makes him happy too, putting jealousy back away. 
--- 
Making your way back home, out of the venue, your eyes suddenly lay on a carnival event. It's a crazy cow ride, where many people come to challenge a bull machine that moves at a wild speed. You release your hand from your husband's grip before running to see. I left Heeseung all alone once again as he scoff in upset with your childish behavior. 
"Love! Love, can I ride that?? It's so cool." You said your eyes turned into stars watching the kids ride that crazy machine. Heeseung narrowed his eyebrow and took a closer look as he shook his head as a sign of no. 
"Awwae, why not? I want to ride that, please." You beg, with your puppy eyes, for your husband's permission, but still, he's disagreeing. As he intertwined your hand, taking you home.
"Nope bob! It's getting late now, and that thing looks dangerous. You don't want to end up at the hospital, don't you?" He responds, barely looking at you while he's talking, which upsets you even more. 
"But come on, love, it was once. I swear, I rarely come to a place like this. Give your husband a chance, please." You left no choice but to try all your methods to melt his heart, but nothing seemed to work on him; he was already ignoring you. 
You pout in disappointment; let it be as you let out a heavy sign as a result. 
A few minutes later, he suddenly spoke. 
"There's something you can ride at home; stop sulking or I'll kiss your swollen lips." He finally broke his silence. In return, a joyful frown appears on your face, jumping in happiness.
"Really, but what kind? Like that machine one? There's another place nearby your grandparents house." You started to question him with a lot of questions. He answered with only one word. 
"You'll see yourself, and it's also the real one." Heeseung replies, bending down to your level before whispering to your ear in a low, seductive tone. His hot breath hits your skin, giving you unexpected goosebumps.
"Tsk, I'll look forward to it then, but if you're lying to me, you're dead." 
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Walking into the room, you throw your body on the soft king bed size; you didn't even bother to get changed since you're too tired to do so. You nuzzle your face, dipping to the bed sheet, breathing in no space air, before you feel a warm hug pressed behind your back with his head brushing into the crooked of your neck. 
"Hmm?" You hum in response, asking what he wanted, until something poked hard underneath your tailbone. You immediately open your eyes from your rest, knowing too well what exactly he wants. 
"Hee?"
"Yea?" 
"..."
"Sigh* yes, I want to start this with you, love." Heeseung said, his tone almost sounding guilty. You roll your eyes, lost in thought, asking him to leave your body. As you turn around, look at your surroundings. 
"Bu-.. Y'know, are you thinking what I am thinking? This is your grandparents house." You utter, almost whisper, anxious at the idea that someone might catch both of you doing this couple stuff in the house, especially his grandparents. 
Heeseung laughed under his throat, with a mix of excitement and humor. He moved closer to you as he cupped your face, looking at your endearment. 
"Love! Once I closed this room's door, not even a single fly could interrupt us. This room is noisy.  proof even if you're scream nobody gonna hear ya~" Heeseung mutters as his gaze grows darker at the thought of having you under him. You almost jaw-dropped upon hearing the dirty talk from your husband. This is probably just the beginning; what will come more once he gets full control of you?
"Wow, you're something darling, I have never seen you're like this before." You stutter. His eyes are burning, full of lust and desire, like a wolf wanted to breed its mate, dominant them until they're satisfied. 
You move backwards using the strength in your arm until your back hits the headboard. 
"I want to make sure, do you really want to have s- uh se-" 
"Yes, I want to fuck you, mn! Don't be shy; this is our honeymoon after all, didn't it?" He smirked as his hand traced down on your skin in ecstasy. Your breath hitched at his touch; he was so good at this. Not even a day you'd thought one day you would have sex with him, since he's too good at hiding his wild side. 
"Now do I have your permission, my love?" He licks his lip, patting like a puppy, as he feels like his bulge is getting more painful in these clothes. 
You nod slowly and accept your fate. Heeseung is full of surprises. Even though you're now his husband, there are too many things he is hiding from you for real. 
He began to take your clothes off piece by piece until you left with nothing but a naked body, which turned him on even more at your milky smooth skin. The heat in his body is getting out of control, begging to claim you sooner. 
He soon ripped out his t-shirt and unbuckled his belt.Now both of your clothes are all over the floor, and your two naked bodies lie on the bed, ready for the real moment to start. 
"One moment, mn." Heeseung stood up on his feet, went to close the door, and locked it as he found something in his bag. Then he pulled out a labricate.
Your mind went blank. Question yourself about how the hell he had that without your knowing. As you deep down in your mind, you remember the word he said—that he would take you to the crazy cow ride—but look at you and him now—very unholy. 
Unexpectedly, He pulls your hip with both of his hands, making your head fall to the pillow. He positions himself in front of your entrance as he puts liquid on his huge cock and your hole.
"Hee hee, this is my first time!" You state it out of the blue, which makes him tilt his head in return. You expect a shock reaction from him; however, instead of confusion, a big grin spread across his face. He looks really happy right now after hearing that. 
"Even better, love; don't worry, I'll be gentle." 
You gulp down, ready for what is coming for you, with a mix of thrilling and nervous. 
Without further ado, he put a tip inside you, and as a result, the two of you moan in unison. His head was big enough to spread your hole, rolling his hip to warm you up to get used to his massive size. 
"Please put it in Heeseung; I want you." Your words slipped out of your mouth after you adjusted to the warm skin inside your asshole. His crotch was so big that you wanted them pulsing inside you to ruin your beautiful pink hole. 
Heeseung didn't waste his time, pushing his shaft all inside in a swift motion. Once he's fully in, he begins to move slowly, still respecting your first-time experience. 
His cock is not going to lie; feel too good for you to not grip on the bedsheets underneath. He's making your body tremble and shiver as a small belly bulge is visible on your skin, even though he's just pushing at a slow pace. 
"Faster love! I want faster; I don't care anymore." You said this as you were still catching your breath at his slower speed. What will happen if he pounds on you like an animal? 
"Your wish is my command, my little husband," he said, squeezing tight on your leg and throwing both of your legs on his shoulder. The next thing you know, he slams his crazy big cock inside you at rapid speed. Not even warning you. 
Thumps thumps
The wet noise started to occur in the empty room, and with every pound he pushed in, his lower abdomen was always pressed against your butt cheeks, making you squirm in no time. 
His cock spread your wall, almost tearing you into two, but as he continued to fuck you in, the painful feeling faded away, leaving only the arousal inside. Since this is your first time, naturally, your ass is clenching on his cock like a baby grip. 
He cried out in gasps; your hole sent a shockwave to him. As he continues to grind his hip, jerking inside you, chasing for pleasure and climax,. 
He increases his speed with every thrust once he gets full control and access to your body when your entrance gets used to his cock. 
You catch out of your guard, and after he quickly changes his position, he puts you on top of his stomach, still buried inside of you, as he lay on the bed instead. 
"You said you want to ride a crazy cow ride; go on~ ride me as you please, babe!" Your eyes went wide, realizing he's behind this. Your gaze softens, leaning down before you bite his bottom lip, kissing him in passionate tension. You no longer be mad at him because he's making you feel good right now. He returned your kiss, lurking his tongue inside your mouth with his wet saliva, eating you two in one at the same time. 
"Fuck uhh," you quake, feeling a jolt send all over your body as your body signals your about to cum. 
"Hee-ahh, narggg, I will cum on you. You want it?" You become more breathless with every thrust he pushes in, his finger still busy spreading your hole to take him all in. 
"Don't hold back, love~ cum for me; now would you like it if I filled you in?" He's too close to the edges, hitting you in every sweet spot. He asked for your permission once again if he could spill his cum inside your hole. You nod aggressively without even answering him. 
In the very last few final thrusts, his tip crushed on your G-spot, making you go insane for a sec, as your cum splashed out on his toned abs, unable to hold in. 
"HOLY MOTHER FUCKER AHHH," your chest heaving in an error motion as you arch your back, throwing your face above the ceiling, to the sensitive pleasure he's pushing you in. 
"Ah-... Ahhh, mn, I'm comming b-brace yourself." With another one last push, his cock started to twitching as the warm, hot seed filled you in. He let out a heavy moan, like vomit, as he reached his goal. 
You collapse on his body while his cock falls out of your hole, like a river of cum dripping out of your entrance. 
"That was one of the hell rides, mn? How do you feel, Mn? Am I hurting you?" He presses a kiss on your forehead as he holds on to your waist, supporting your weight on his. 
You inhale and exhale, rolling your eyes to the back of your brain, still feeling it. 
"I never know. Fuck feel this good." 
"So you want another round, mn?" 
"No, but I want you in." 
"Like, what love?" He asked your unfinished question. You couldn't explain what your desire was to him, so you snaked your hand before grabbing his cock and pushing inside of you again. 
"I love how you feel inside; please don't pull out." You responded embarrassed, covering your face in his chest. He snorted at your reaction and boldness, as he started to love this side of you. 
"Anything you want, little one~ not to mention that I could be there forever if you insist." 
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🗣️ please mind my English! ><
🗣️Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥
🗣️ crd to all pics&dividers
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sunkissed-zegras · 3 days
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ok this is officially the last one, had to go out on a fluffy note for my pookie nika muhl........
anyways could i request 🍀 for the prompt 45. "oh, you look so pretty when you've just woken up!" this screams nika and i love it
- 🪐
evangeline's 2.5k celebration !! [open!]
i am a SHLUT for domestic bliss and nika, they go so well together
─ warnings | nothing but fluff, like seriously absolutely nothing
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YOU FELT NIKA'S arms pull you closer into her chest as she let out a content hum.
the sunlight was seeping through the windows of your now, shared bedroom and cast a warm glow over the room. the soft rays highlighted the dust particles floating lazily in the air, adding a magical quality to the morning.
nika's breath was steady and calm against your hair, her heartbeat a soothing rhythm that lulled you into a sense of tranquility. you nestled closer, savoring the comfort and security of her embrace.
“did you sleep well?” she asked, her voice still husky with sleep.
“mhm, i did,” you replied, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on her arm. “especially with you here.”
nika chuckled softly, her laughter vibrating through your body. “good, cause i plan on keeping you right here all day,” she teased, tightening her arms around you slightly.
this was the first whole day where you two were moved in together, in the same place and she wanted to savor it with you. it was a milestone in the relationship, it was finally getting to the serious tier.
you sighed in contentment, feeling a wave of gratitude for the woman who held you so tenderly. “i wouldn’t have it any other way.”
nika kissed the top of your head, her lips lingering against your hair. “good,” she murmured. “cause you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”
the two of you lay there in comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other's presence. the outside world could wait; in this moment, all that mattered was the love you shared and the peace it brought you.
you turned over to face nika as her hands cupped your face, a small smile on her face. "god, how do you just wake up so effortlessly beautiful?"
you felt a rush of warmth to your cheeks as you let out a nervous giggle. you and nika had been dating for almost two years and her compliments still made you blush like a little girl, it was almost embarrassing if it wasn't endearing for nika.
“alright,” nika said eventually with a smile. “how about we make a deal? you let me pamper you today, and i promise to let you help with breakfast tomorrow.”
this was domestic bliss, you thought to yourself as you nodded. you were so content ─ life couldn't get much better than this. you had a beautiful girlfriend who loved and cherished you and now, you had a home with her.
you laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “deal,” you said, feeling a surge of affection for nika.
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↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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opencommunion · 3 days
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https://gofund.me/dc1e2f01
Dear Friends,
I hope this message finds you well. My name is Issam Aziz, and I am reaching out in a moment of profound desperation. The relentless conflict in Gaza has brought my family to the brink. My mother is gravely ill, and our only hope is to evacuate her to a safer place where she can receive the medical care she so urgently needs.
I have launched a campaign to raise funds for my mother's evacuation and treatment. Her condition worsens with each passing day, and time is running out. The thought of losing her is unbearable, and I am pleading for your support.
Please, share our campaign on your social media platforms. Your kindness and generosity could be the miracle that saves my mother's life. Every share, every donation, brings us one step closer to safety and hope.
From the depths of my heart, I thank you for your support.
With gratitude,
Issam Aziz
Please help us by sharing the post on your page so that we can collect donations and get out of the war. You are our hope. I will be very grateful to you .❤️🙏🏼
June 3rd: €1,740 / €7000
I just donated €5, can anyone match me? Let's try to pass €2000 today
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carolmunson · 2 days
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7 ✨ with any lil steve for me? 🥹 tis your daughter (the first born)
—⭐️🛼
‘don’t think about it, boy leave her alone.
she likes my tone, my cologne, and the way i roll.’
wealthy!steve/pbv!steve
He tucks his hair behind his ears before running over it with pomade, boar bristle brush following up after his deft fingers. It was his grandpa’s, he thought it was the slickest thing ever. His grandpa taught him how to comb his hair like greasers used to in the 50s — his dad didn’t love that. Didn’t love that his son used Farrah Fawcett spray either — but you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind one bit.
“Babe, where’s my — oh,” you smile when you catch him styling his hair, plush lower lip tucking in between your teeth, “Hey.”
“Hey,” he smiles back at your reflection while he perfects the swoop of the sides, the top perfectly coiffed. He watches you stare for a little while he continues with his pomade, structuring the top just so.
“Did you come in here to ask me a question or just stare at me, Manhattan?” he asks, snarky grin pulling at his original smile — glint in his hazel eyes.
“Uh — oh,” you shake your head, a breathless laugh coming from your chest, “Where’s my black coin purse? The beaded one?”
He rest the tip of his tongue on his teeth while he thinks, brows contorting while he looks at you through the mirror. After a moment he snaps his fingers, turning to you fully.
You feel silly over how your skin gets hot when he turns around in his Stefano Ricci suit. Black on black, only the flash of a gold tie clip on his sternum to break up the color.
“I brought it to my tailor, honey,” he frowns, “I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you. Remember the last time you brought it out and some of the beads pulled? I wanted to get it fixed.”
You scrunch your nose, disappointed, “You’re lucky you’re hot, Harrington.”
He snorts, turning back to the mirror to give himself a once over before spritzing himself with his standard Dior Homme. He likes how your eyes darken a little whenever you smell it on him. Steve liked to call it his ‘liquid guarantee’.
“You have ten other black bags you can wear tonight,” he offers, making his way to your shared dressing room off the side of your suite where you stand in front of all of your purses.
“I just had my heart set on that one for this dress,” you shrug, “It’ll be fine. Worse things have happened to me. I mean — you’re here.”
He clicks his tongue again, coming up behind you where his hands smooth over your shoulders, nose gliding up the side of your neck. He can feel the goosebumps raise on your skin, “Bring the silk one, that’ll be pretty.”
“You sure?” you ask, heart fluttering when you hear his deep, bass-y ‘mhm’ in your ear.
“You smell good,” you mumble back, vision getting hazy while he encompasses you from behind. His lips press softly against the base of your jaw.
“Thank you, angel,” he kisses again, voice husky. Steve leans forward, grabbing the black silk coin purse from its spot on the wall and tucking it into your hand while you lean against him — jello, “Now let’s go.”
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Note
I was wondering if you could write something for Peaky Blinders where the reader is a mix of Tommy and Arthur, who grew up with the Shelby’s and ended up being their business partners and Tommy’s fiancé, only for him to ship you away for your safety after a business meeting gone wrong and you come back to find him married to Grace as he believed the reader had died while away due to no correspondence. Thank you so much if you can 💖
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Warnings: Altered storyline, orphan!reader, sad ending
thank you for the request, apologies it took a moment to come out. Thank you for being patient, hope you enjoy lovie🥰
Growing up with the Shelby’s wasn’t for the weak, but since a young age they had taken you in as their own.
Ada taught you how to fight for your rights and never allow a man to take control of you, whilst Arthur was the one who always reminded you to keep fighting when things get tough, to not supress any anger or rage as he did.
Then there was Tommy, the voice of reason, the one that promised protection over you and put the most interest in your life.
Through the years you’d grown immensely close, a shy attraction forming but never having the courage to approach the matter until a small kiss was shared on a drunken snowy night at the pub. 
From there things began to escalate, Tommy going as far as proposing and the family being overjoyed. The profound bound you shared with one another was unbreakable. That was until a villainous person of character brought trouble and you were his main target.
Tommy wasn’t quite sure how but the man had figured out where you were 24/7. A car reappearing constantly was never found, a familiar face never near. When they’d attempt to break in while you were at the betting shop alone Tommy realized he couldn’t risk it anymore, couldn’t risk losing you. Eventually sending you off to stay in Boston and promising to return when the situation was handled.
As days turned into weeks, weeks turning into months there had been no contact made on your part, leaving Tommy to presume you were dead and they had found a way to you.
Wanting the reassurance, he sent Charlie out there to investigate. But when Charlie arrived at your secluded flat, the place was a mess. Clothes and papers scattered, half bowls of food on the counters and what looked like to be blood covering your sheets, so he assumed the worst, eventually confirming Tommy’s fear that you had passed and your body was nowhere to be found.
Now here you were entering through the corridors of the Arrow House after tracking breadcrumbs to figure out where your long lost love was living.
Heads turned to stare in disbelief and side conversations unfolding from your powerful presence.
What you weren’t ready for was to see Tommy standing there with a blonde woman with an expensive necklace wrapped around her neck, his hands firmly placed caringly on her arms.
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“I need you. I need you alive Grace.” The scene unfolding before your very own eyes churned your stomach in disgust while your heart thumped rapidly from the anger and heartbreak in your chest.
“And what about me then Tommy?” You shouted loudly causing everyone’s heads to turn in curiosity.
Whipping his head around from the sound of that voice he once cherished that he never thought he’d hear again. Grace followed his eyes, brows furruowing in confusion.
“Tommy who is this?” 
“Who are you?” You quipped back without missing a beat, resentment and anger laced in your voice.  Tommy felt everyone’s eyes glued on him, but that didn’t change the murmur in his heart.
He felt like the universe had come to a stand still. How could this be? It couldn’t, no. He had confirmation you were dead but yet here you were standing right before his very own eyes.
When Grace tried to approach, Tommy released his arm causing her to come to a hault.
“Why don’t we go to my office. Somewhere more private without lingering eyes and ears, eh?” Arthur and Ada stayed near their corner, watching the scandalous scene of events, nearly choking on their drinks when your heels clicked forward, hand striking the middle Shelby across his face vigorously before storming off in anger.
Ada set her glass down knowing she’d need to intervene with Grace, surely Tommy would want to talk to you alone.
Waving his hand, the music restarted, fellow bussiness partners and coneseuirs going back to their socializing as if nothing has happened.
Closing the office doors behind him, Tommy placed his hands in the pockets of his pants to hide his trembling hands, watching you rummage around his desk drawer for a cigarette as his crystal eyes remained calm and collected.
“Y/N. I thought you were dead. I didn’t-“ You slammed the door shut, lighting the cigarette allowing the nicotine to burn your lungs euphorically while flipping you hair, unphased by your ex fiance.
“I’m going to stop you right there. Tell me, did you even look for me? Or were you already far past me when you sent me away. Was that it? Was it all for her?” The crackling in your strained voice and the water building at the brink of your heartbroken eye lids shattered Tommy inside, lips parting agape while he couldn’t seem to find the right words.
There was a knock at the door but neither you or Tommy answered, gazes still locked in a windwhirl of scattered emotions, stuck laying in the bed of deceit and heartache that he caused.
When the knocking insisted on, he hadn’t known it was Grace on the other side when he shouted, “For christ’s sake we are busy! Fuck off!” She was taken aback by his tone, scoffing and twisting at the door handle trying to jiggle open the locked knob.
Scoffing at the tone of her high pitched, annoying voice yelling to be allowed in caused your blood to boil.
Picking up the glass bottle of liqour, you threw it with strong velocity and a hateful intent, just barely missing Tommy’s head as the object shattered against the door behind him.
“Jesus christ! Fucking calm down eh? I didn’t fucking know Y/N-I-“ She still didn’t stop.
“Fuck off you fiance stealing tramp!” Her efforts diminished, face turning pale when she heard what you said. So that’s who you were.
“Now with the whore gone, give me a fucking answer that I am damn well entitled to! Did. You. Look. For. Me.” He knew you were right, he should have looked, should have seen for himself but he didn’t want to bare seeing your lifeless body.
His fingers rubbed together at his side, head dropping down in guilt as his eyes wandered, mind pondering why the fuck he just assumed. There were plenty of moments where his men gave him false information, wrong information. 
“You never wrote back Y/N. I tried for months and sent Charlie to look for you. He told me there was blood in your bed and looked like no one had been there in weeks. I fucking thought you were dead. A day didn’t go by where I didn’t blame myself, I should have held you closer, should’ve never sent you away.” You scoffed in disbelief, crossing the room and pointed a finger accusing at him, pushing his chest in the process and he was more than willing to take the hits.
“If you cared enough you would have shown up for yourself you fucking bastard! Yes they fucking found me but I got out, the blood was from me killing those sick bastards. I disposed of their bodies, by myself might I add while you sat here just fucking the whore from Ireland not giving a shit about me! Do you know how much I struggled? I had no fucking money, none of you sent help for me or even tried but I’m more disappointed and angered with you! My fucking supposedly dearly beloved soon to be husband, I can’t believe I-“ His lips smashed against yours, silencing your words as his hands cupped your cheeks.
The taste of his whiskey, partially chapped, alluring lips caused your mind to flood with memories playing out like a movie scene in your head but you were stronger than this.
Pushing him away you slapped him once more, eyes entranced in one anothers in a moment of silence. Clasping his jaw, he shook it off like it was nothing. This wasn’t going to work this time, he couldn’t just seduce you and everything would be one happy fucking rainbow.
“Don’t fucking touch me. You have no right! I’m not some pawn in this twisted story Thomas.” 
He hated how his mind worked, he knew it was fucked up but was hoping his lips on yours would draw you back in, make you realize he was never once over you. It was his way of saying sorry.
“Y/N I will leave her, anything you’d like. I just want you. I need you Y/N.” You laughed in disbelief of the irony and disbelief of his choice of words and began to pace the room, your heart no longer aching but void of any feeling.
“Really? Isn’t that what you just said to her when I walked in the room? I won’t be the next chapter of another great Thomas Shelby redemption arc. I can’t. I refuse.” Tommy didn’t cry often but this time he couldn’t stop the singular tear from streaming down his cheek.
The air was heavy, the silence heavier, nothing but the clock ticking in the background filling your eardrums while your aching hearts split in half. 
You couldn’t be here anymore, didn’t want to be. How were you to love a man that threw you away so effortlessly. You knew him well enough to know he was just telling you what he believed you wanted to hear. Rule number one, don’t give your heart away to someone undeserving. He had taught you at a young age that true love was a fragile, difficult thing to come across, you just didn’t think he’d be the one to throw your away.
Making your exit, you wiped away the tears, refusing to give the public the satisfaction of knowing that Thomas Shelby had broken your heart as everyone said he would long ago.
He watched as you left him alone in the room with nothing but his thoughts, cursing himself for the man that he was as he watched the love of his life exit through the door for the final time.
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slutt4ellie · 2 days
Text
Fated Hearts Start With Fire
PT5 - Holidays Hearts
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masterslist
PART 1 // PART 2 // PART 3 // PART 4
Moving to a new city is tough, but it’s even harder when your roommate is a dick.
Summery - After you invite Ellie to travel back with you to your home town she immediately denies. But after a bit of convincing everything works well.
- - (It goes straight from part 4 so re-read if you gotta)
Warnings -> Miscommunication (Mia & Reader) / Readers in a relationship / Reader definitely self sabotages 🗣️ / JEALOUSLY / TENSION / Loser!Ellie if you squint? / Readers dad is weird idk? /Kissing / Cheating 😬 / Eventual smut / (Lmk if I missed anything)
WC: 5.6k
(Not proofread!)
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“No!”
Ellie all but laughs in your face. Going to your hometown? Literally alone with nothing but your family and friends.
Yeah no fucking way.
She all much rather stay all alone in your shared apartment, beats introducing herself to a fuck ton of new people.
Yet her reply from your point of view has you confused? Because why not come? It 100% beats staying home alone in your shared apartment. She’s just being stubborn at this point??
“Ellie come on!” You say putting your hands in a praying position, trying to emphasize you really do want her to come.
“No dude!” Ellie again immediately denies shaking her head. She’s not going to fold under pressure. At least she’ll try not to!
“Why??” You say a whining tone leaking.
The foundation Ellie just put up. The one where she’s not going to fold? That’s definitely breaking as soon as that tone leaked.
But she regains and starts adding more support, she just shakes her head while not breaking eye contact with you? Trying to prove that stupid fucking tone didn’t affect her.
“Because!- just invite your girlfriend??” Ellie says.
That sentence does actually bring you back to reality. Fuck you haven’t even asked Mia yet, yet you’re practically begging for Ellie to join you. Hands cuffed in a prayer and all.
“I-I will! But Mia probably has plans with her family? So why don’t you come?” You say looking as her a pout now apparent on your bottom lip.
Ellie groans, her hand sliding down her face.
No, no, no.
“No..” Ellie sighs.
“Im not intruding on your family shit because mine aren’t available.” Ellie again shakes her head. Despite the fact your words are actually getting to her. She’s a adamant on denying, at least for as long as she can.
“Yeah but you’re not intruding? My parents hardly care? They’d probably be happy to see a friend i’ve made here! I think they think i’m lying” You laugh trying to ease Ellie’s discomfort about the whole situation. Trying to prove to her that you really want her to come.
You can tell the whole family situation is definitely rough. Because she’s told you a lot about herself but she’s pretty prominent about not mentioning that.
A clear example is when you guys you first started actually being friends, you almost instantly told her about your family, trying to make a perfect opening for her to share insight on hers. But instead she just shook it off.
She basically stopped talking and didn’t continue to press further into the conversation.
“Thank you- but no thank you.” Ellie again denies this time waving her hand. Making a valid point she doesn’t want to.
“I’m okay staying here and just chilling.” Ellie smiles at you.
You frown.
“Ellie.” You talk.
“Yeah?” Ellie says.
“Please.” You again beg. Now the desperate act is coming out.
You don’t even know why you want her to come so bad. Well sorta..
The main thing which is actively pushing you to invite Ellie, is no other than Mia.
It’s selfish. 100%.
But you literally don’t want to face her anymore. It’s to awkward and maybe if Ellie comes it’s going to push her away? Make her go enjoy Christmas with her family.
At least that’s what you’ll hope.
“Why do you want me to come so bad?” Ellie single handily rips the words from your train of thought.
And now you’re derailed.
You feel like the train just crashed into a dead end because you have almost nothing to defend with.
You’re not leading with the fact you’re avoiding your girlfriend. But it’s also weird why you’re so alluded with Ellie coming back to your hometown to spend Christmas with you and your family.
“Fine-don’t worry about it..“ You just groan, a clear annoyed tone as you begin to walk away. Which Ellie picked up immediately.
You know it was 100% pity and weird you relied on full guilt tripping, but you’re helping out Ellie at the end of the day..! Just giving her a light push.
You lightly close your eyes as you walk down the hall.. You didn’t know if it would work but then again you never know…
It was a solid two steps before there was a light grip on your wrist.
As you turn your eyes are met with green ones. Ellie’s looking at you, and just by the way her eyes are scanning through yours and no longer have a presence of unsureness. You know she 100% folded.
“O-okay i’ll come-“ Ellie sighs looking down, hand still on your wrist.
“Yeah??” You say with an excited tone. “You’re not just saying that.” You decide to clarify. I mean you hope she’s not just saying it.
“No..no- I just don’t wanna like intrude.” Ellie’s close to you.
Close enough to the point it’s falling into territory none of you are used to, but you both seem to be to distracted on a different fact right now. The one that has Ellie coming to your hometown.
“You’re not?” You smile at her to which she nods, slowing sighing.
“You did that on purpose.” Ellie tilts her head and smiles.
“I have zero clue what you’re talking about??” You say looking at Ellie. You know what she’s talking about? I mean you 100% guilt tripped her, having her feel a sense of guilt. But you’re avoiding that!
Ellie dramatically turns around and huffs. “Fine!”
You laugh and grab her wrist now mimicking Ellie’s actions. A perfect mirror of what just happened.
Ellie also laughs now that your mimicking her. “You’re so dramatic??”
You shake your head. “Am not!”
Ellie laughs “You fucking huffed then walked down the hall!”
Ellie points with her opposite hand to avoid the possibility of her forcefully making you let go of her wrist. Something she’s doing on purpose.
“You were being annoying-!” You say pushing you finger in the middle of her collar bone.
“Ellie please come with me!” Ellie says mocking you, which means her voice strained into a whining one that unfortunately appeared as a weird fucking whimper..
Her smile fades when her brain trails into a thought process allowing her to actually dwell on what she said.
So now her face is turning red and the laugh she was just previously ensuing on was dying into an uncomfortable awkward silence.
“Huh!?” You whisper yell straight in Ellie’s directions. A silent understanding that Mia’s still currently asleep in your bed, having you want to do anything you really can not to wake her up right now.
“I-I didn’t even mean it like that freak?” Ellie groans, a desperate attempt to hide how embarrassed she is.
“When did I ever even fucking say ‘Please come with me Ellie!’” Your tone again now leaking with a whine.
Ellie actually needs to go to bed.
Because maybe it’s the fact she’s tired, and honestly a little sleep deprived.
Or that your hand is still looped around her wrist.
But those 5 whiny words shouldn’t have caused an ache in the middle of her legs she couldn’t ignore.
Fuck.
“Whatever i’m going to bed..!” Ellie says now being the first to take your grip away from her wrist. Something she tried to avoid a mere minutes ago.
“Alright, alright.” You smile.
“Goodnight..!” You add on a few seconds later.
Ellie practically rushes to her room. Because it’s extremely fucking evident the little back and forth banter between you two had did not have the same affect on you which it had on her..!
Ellie needs to get fucking sleep. Get her mind to stop racing..
You two are just friends, she knows that.
The last thing she wants is to have yet another Cat situation.
✧☾༻✩༺☽✧
When you woke up and an arm was still presently draped over you, your mind raced.
It’s like you fully forgot the events of last night.
The ones with Mia..
And shamefully you wished it stayed that way.
The worst part is you don’t even know why?
Mia is fucking great, you’ve had almost zero reason to want to avidly push her away. She’s never done anything remotely mean and last night she was perfect.
Saying the right things, making sure you were comfortable and putting herself last. Making sure you enjoyed yourself first before she was even a fucking thought..?
So why do you wish you were waking up in a bed which is just full of you. Empty is something you prayed you’d never feel yet right now it’s all you’re praying for to happen.
And why?
Not even you know?
That’s something that keeps ending with dead ends.
Mia hums against your neck as her parted lips stay on them. She’s awake which isn’t a surprise, you’re little ruffles you made as you awakened probably had her eyes fall open not to long after.
“Hi..” She says, sighing, her eyes finally opening, and for the first time since last night her ocean blue eyes are rested on your face. Gaze refusing to break.
“Hey..” You smile. It’s fake, but it’s the best you can do as of now.
She leans in and gives you a light kiss on your cheek.
“Sleep okay?” Mia ask as she observes your face. Making sure you’re not lying or something.
“Mhm.? All good- what about you” You say trying to change the subject, trying to get her eyes off you even if it’s just for a second.
Because regardless of you lying or not her gaze is something you’re not enjoying right now?
“Yeah. It was good, last night was really nice. You were really nice.” Mia smiles kissing your cheek once again..!
“It was!” You say a fake excited tone accidentally making an appearance, luckily for you, Mia must have been to focused on kissing you, because now it’s going to your jaw, then neck.
Last night felt like boundary both of you overstepped. Because instead of literally just a week prior, Mia isn’t hesitating to kiss your neck. She’s assuming your okay with it.
And it’s not like it’s making you uncomfortable and you want her off of you, it’s just something that you wish maybe wasn’t happening right now. So you talk.
“M-mia can we talk..? Just quickly.” You say as you voice cracks..
It’s about time you give her insight on the fact you fucking invited Ellie instead of her to your parents, that being said though it’s not like she’s unwelcome to come.
She’s completely allowed. It’s just the probably odd you didn’t hesitate to invite your fucking roommate…
“Uh-oh?” Mia chuckles pulling back from your neck. She assumes you just being funny or something? That fades quick. Because when she sees you replied with a nervous smile, she takes your outlook, now becoming openly nervous..
“Fuck what’s wrong?” Mia says looking at you.
“Just Ellie and I-“ You try to think of how to word it properly. But currently nothings coming to your head. It feels like a broken electrical circuit no longer getting responses.
Mias smile fades when she hears the mention of Ellie. Because why the fuck did you say it like you and Ellie are some ‘thing’. Or even like you did something?
Mia would never suspect you of cheating- she doesn’t think you cheated. It’s just the sentence ‘Just Ellie and I” Could have a shit ton of add ons? That’s what she didn’t like.
“I-I invited Ellie to go back to my hometown for Christmas..and i’m sorry- because I know I should have asked you first. And-“ You shove your head in your hands embarrassed at the fact you feel like you could cry. You know if you continue you will cry.
Yet don’t get anything twisted, Mia felt a strong pang of jealously- but you and her have been dating for a solid month, she didn’t except you to ask her to come to your literal home town for Christmas, at the end of the day she knew you actually didn’t owe her anything. So even though she’s not to fond of the fact you’ll be going back to your hometown with Ellie, she knows you two are friends.
And that offers comfort.
“Hey-hey it’s fine..” Mia softly chuckles bringing your hands down from your face and kissing them lightly. “I have plans with my family- I assumed we weren’t gonna go head first into plans with family’s.”
“Oh..” Now you feel stupid because you were about to bawl over something that definitely wasn’t that deep. “I just-“ You start but Mia waves her hand dismissively.
“It’s fine. I swear.” Mia smiles kissing the corner of your lips..
“Plus, we have so many future Christmas’ and shit. This is just one out of many.” Mia says.
“Right?” You say in a breathless sigh now starting to calm down. “Now I feel stupid!” You chuckle and Mia shakes her head.
“No don’t!” Mia kisses you, you respond by slotting your lips right back on hers enveloping in a passionate kiss.
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And that’s how you and Mia left it. Obviously you texted a lot but now it was time to go to your home town and you sorta just wanted to disconnect.
Because not only were you going with Ellie but you’re finally going to be able to see your family after a few months so you were beyond fucking excited. With a twinge of jealousy!
You and Ellie got on the plane no problem but now sitting down you can see Ellie’s hands fidget with plane seat buckle. A common sign she was nervous.
Learning Ellie’s nervous ticks was easy, because she has three she’ll always do.
Number one fidgeting with something close by.
If not that then number two. Playing with her index and middle.
And finally biting her bottom lip.
You see her top teeth slowly sit on her bottom lip.
She was nervous but you knew why.
One thing Ellie strongly emphasized that she fucking hated flights, she hated heights since she was a kid and that being said she was completely okay with the fact she’s never been on a plane.
“I don’t get how you can be scared of flights but you wanna go to space..?” You tease looking at her.
“Fuck you.” Ellie groans. Unlike her joking tone this does come out as more cold? Which you know why, she’s trying to hide that she’s extremely nervous.
“Wow! I feel like I just got flashbacks..!” You smile nudging her.
“Fuck off man.” Ellie smiles, now she’s looking at you trying to avoid the fact they’re taking off in a few minutes.
Her eyes just trail back and forth for a solid 20 seconds before looks down and clears her throat.
“And spaceships are different.” Ellie says.
“Mhm?” You say looking at her.
“Then imagine we’re on a spaceship?” You add and Ellie laughs.
“It’d be a pretty shitty spaceship.” Ellie sighs and then the intercom comes on announcing the plane is ready for take off.
“Fuck.” Ellie sits up.
You hold out your hand not thinking much about it before it happens. Because you’re just being a fucking good friend! Nothing deep, nor something to look into!
Ellie also doesn’t think much, because it didn’t take long before she sat her hand open on yours intertwining her fingers. She hates how fucking fast her nerves relaxed after you and her were holding fucking hands.
Because just like that her heart stopped racing and the feeling of taking off was the last thing on her mind.
It felt like a blacked out room with a spotlight shined on just you two.
Ellie knows she’s being weird, she thinks it’s the fact that since your roommates you’ll always be in a close proximity, so when building a bond the friendship lines get foggy.
Something that happened with Cat, and something which is happening with you.
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The biggest factor on the plan which was weird was the fact you and Ellie held hands for a solid 30 minutes after the plane took off.
And you don’t really know why? It just happened. Everything with you two just seems to mistakenly happen.
It’s not like you were doing it purposefully, it was just after the 10 minutes it was a bit hard to let go of her hand smoothly so you two just watched movies holding hands a bit after the plane took off.
There was an underlining of comfort as well? When both of you are together there’s something you can’t really avoid?
You’re just good friends in that sense.
Nothing weird about that?..
Plus after you two got off the plane and through security it felt stupid to mention!
Talking about it would have just been more awkward and unnecessary!
So that’s what you two both purposefully did? Not mention it.
You and Ellie both just shuffled your things in the trunk of taxi before you guys get into the back seat..
When you tell the taxi driver the location and your gaze is completely focused on him, Ellie finally looks at you.
The moment on the plane was weird, and Ellie didn’t fully understand.
The last thing she wants to be is a home wrecker.
But maybe you two were being friendly, she’s seen a shit ton of friends hold hands, you guys might just be shifting into a physical friendship and nothing is wrong with that!
At least she rather come up with that solution instead of maybe expanding on the fact she might be falling for yet another roommate which at this point is getting fucking old.
The Cat situation should have ruined that possibility yet here she fucking is.
You finally turn your gaze to the back seat no longer focused on the man and quickly noticed how Ellie’s gaze was straight on you.
She tried to smoothly clear her throat and look away but you just chuckled, again not taking it as serious as she was.
“You good.” You ask.
“Just nervous I guess?” Ellie wasn’t lying but it was also a smooth excuse to hide the fact she was just hardcore staring at you.
“My parents are nice- promise” You look at her offering a smile to ease Ellie’s nerves.
Ellie feels like she should ask, like she needs to ask.
Because after what happened with her parents she just rather avoid it if she can.
“You’re out to them right? Or like no.” Ellie ask her voice cracking which she clears once again.
“Oh yeah! I literally came out at like 10 because I wouldn’t shut up about how hot the Elizabeth girl from Pirates of the Caribbean was?” You laugh which also makes Ellie laugh along.
Well at least Ellie doesn’t have to lie to your parents or some shit. “K-yeah cool.” Ellie nods.
“You good?” You ask looking at Ellie.
“Mhm- i’m good” Ellie says looking at you.
“Okay” You tilt your head before looking out the window.
Seeing your old town has put you into the realization that nothings really changed. The shops stayed the same, with the exception of a few new ones you hadn’t noticed before.
You can tell somethings prioritizing Ellie’s mind but you rather not push or question it? She seems to be an overall private person and practically forcing her out of her comfort zone seems rude.
You just decided to get comfortable in your seat for a few minutes before you arrive.
Which really didn’t take long, because soon you’re pulling into the house you called home for so many years, and instead of walking in alone, or with Alex and Jess. This time it’s you and Ellie.
You just grab your suitcase exiting the car.
“I can grab that?” Ellie points to your suitcase as her left hand grips hers.
“It’s fine- if anything I should be carrying yours.” You chuckle at her request.
“You’ll be hugging your family and shit? I’ll just grab it weirdo” Ellie fully takes it into her own hand reaching her right hand forward to grab your suitcase.
“All right, all right- thank you.” You say walking up to the front door.
And even though it’s your family your mind is racing about whatever the fuck is going to transfer. You just hope it’s positive.
But before you can open the door, your mom does.
Her eyes are excited and she immediately lunged forward to hug no other than you..!
“You’re home!!” You’re mom says while hugging and kissing all over your cheeks earning a stupid chuckle from Ellie which she “smoothly” covered with a cough.
“Yeah!” You say, you barley hid the fact you’re extremely embarrassed because it was super apparent in your tone and pink cheeks.
You mom then pulls back from you and smiles. “Who’s this!”
Your mom knows who the fuck it is, because you told her Ellie’s coming as soon as you got okay.
“H-hi!” Ellie spits out nervously, she puts down your suit case to hold out her hand. An invitation for your mom to shake it.
Ellie’s super fucking nervous. Because after her relationship with her parents came down with a big tumble, so opening up to other people’s seemed off.?
Like she couldn’t properly function, it almost felt like she was constantly on thin ice.
Plus Ellie doesn’t really know if you told your mom about the shitty roommate. Which would be horrible because she’s the fucking shitty roommate?! She wouldn’t even be shocked if you did? Fuck she was horrible.
“Ah we don’t need handshakes!” Your mom fully takes Ellie by the shoulder and hugs her tightly. Having Ellie drop the other suitcase to her feet.
Ellie doesn’t know what to do other then reciprocate it, so that’s all she does, just wraps her arms around your mom?
“It was Ellie right.?” Your mom says her gaze not leaving Ellie’s.
Ellie just nervously nods. She’s never had someone be extremely nice without even knowing her.
Which she’s now starting to understand where you got it.
Because even on the day when you first moved in, you weren’t automatically mean, even though Ellie was rude for the whole first day, you managed to put up with it before finally snapping back on the second day.
“Yeah..!” Ellie smiles awkwardly stepping back.
“It’s nice to meet you-” Ellie signals to you about to continue the conversation.
Then your dad walks out. He’s a stocky man, a bit scary looking, with permanent furrowed eyebrows.
You’d like to say it’s all some facade and he’s a real softie under the rough skin.
But no.
He’s always will silently judge, somethings he’s done your whole life, giving his thoughts despite not really asking for it, he’ll always supply it.
“Hey kid.” You’re dad nods a head to you. He’s not a hugger. A drastic change from someone like your mother. You don’t really know how they ended up together.
“Hey dad..!” You smile and look at him.
Your dad doesn’t reply after that, he turns his attention to Ellie.
“This the girlfriend?” He says his eyes trailing up and down her, you can tell he again is fucking judging.
Yet Ellie’s not even your girlfriend! So he’s judging her for no reason?..
“N-no that’s Mia- this is Ellie.” You say directed to your dad despite you looking at Ellie, her face is now red and she seems embarrassed.
Fuck this is awkward.
“I-It’s nice to meet you.” Ellie smiles awkwardly at your dad. She feels she should shake his hand yet his gaze has her fall nervous. So she doesn’t. She just occupies both hands with the suitcases
“Quite young for a tattoo hm?” You dad says clearing his throat, slowly turning his attention to Ellie’s tattoo.
You never understood why your dad says or does some things? But either way he does and you can’t really change it, this conversation between him and Ellie, it’s one of the ones where you don’t understand why the fuck he’s doing it.
“Oh uh-“ Ellie’s cut off by your words.
“We should really settle in. The flight was long..!” You chuckle a desperate attempt to clear the awkwardness which is looming.
Ellie nods and looks at your parents. “It was really nice to meet you both.” Ellie nods towards them before the everyone starts to head inside.
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After you showed Ellie the spare bedroom it didn’t take long till there was a light knock on your bedroom who you can only assume is her.
She did tell you once she was done unpacking she’ll come to your room.
“Come in?” Your voice echos through the bedroom as you sit on your queen bed.
As you guess Ellie’s auburn hair and green eyes come poking through the door.
“Oh i’m the fucking nerd?” Ellie immediately says with a sarcastic chuckle.
She starts walking into your room before sitting on your bed a decent amount of distance between you and her. Her eyes trail throughout your room and she scouts the many different movie posters, books, journals scattered throughout your bedroom.
“Fuck off..!” You chuckle looking back at Ellie.
“No- you fucking bullied me for my space shit” Ellie says laughing. “I get to bully you!” Ellie says pointing right at you.
“Because that’s objectively nerdy! You like space! I just like reading and writing.” You try to defend yourself.
“Yeah, yeah nerd.” Ellie scoffs which earns a little smile from you despite you actually wanting to laugh. “Whatever makes you sleep at night.!”
You roll your eyes and look at Ellie. “Im gonna kick you out?”
Ellie chuckles and shakes her head. “Okay i’m sorry!”
It’s a bit of silence before you finally speak again.
“Get settled in okay?” You ask looking at her.
She bites her lip, looking down before shortly nodding. “Oh yeah, all good.” Ellie offers you a smile to try and distract you from any red flags that she might be uncomfortable.
Yet it didn’t really help or work, you noticed right away.
“You alright?” You ask looking at her.
“Yeah- no good. I’m happy you invited me.” Ellie wasn’t lying at the last part. She was super happy she decided to come with you, it’s just-
“My dad?” You question looking at Ellie. You basically finished her thoughts.
“I-Did I say something wrong- because people- he just seemed-“ As soon as you questioned it Ellie’s mouth wasn’t going to stop. She was ranting.
So you took it into your own hands and looked at her.
“Ellie I swear he’s just weird and like that with everyone. Like i’m his daughter and you saw how weird he is with me!” You say looking at her. Despite not being even the single bit religious you prayed her words offered comfort.
Ellie let’s out a show sigh of relief. “Fuck okay good! I thought I said something” Ellie laughs lightly.
“Like the tattoo comment was-“ Ellie starts.
“Fucking dumb!” You tilt your head.
“Your tattoo is cool.” You add on chuckling.
It took about ten seconds before your hand started making its way to travel over the different intricate details.
“Yeah?” Ellie ask going a tad bit closer. Both your shoulders now touching as her arm is hovered above both of your thighs.
“Mhm?” You say looking at her, she slowly mirrors your movements.
And in that moment you know if either of you decide to even lean in just a little further your noses would touch.
You start to think what’d you do, something you’ve purposefully deterred your mind from going. Blocking off those openings before they could even get through. But now they were flowing and you couldn’t stop it?
Like if she leaned in would you do the same...?Would you kiss Ellie bac-
What the fuck, you have a fucking girlfriend.
And you couldn’t sworn Ellie’s eyes were fluttering shut, a sign to back the fuck up. And that’s what you did.
“Uh- dinners probably like basically ready.” You stand up awkwardly rolling your hands down your clothes an attempt for them to appear more straight.
While also making an effort to avoid her gaze without making it look more forceful?
Ellie also stands up, the main bit of her head being filled with confusion- because why did it seem like you wanted to kiss her two seconds ago, and now you can barley look at her.
“Right..cool.” Ellie sounded just the slightest bit immature but in her defence you made her feel stupid? Like was she interpreting that whole situation wrong.
“What..?” You ask, almost like she’s crazy for feeling embarrassed.
“Didn’t say anything” Ellie gives a fake smile before opening your bedroom door.
When she opens the door you walk through first and you hear her trailing after you.
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You and Ellie hardly talked through dinner, little chip ins from both of you, but when you did the conversation was usually to other people.
So if you were talking i’d be to your parents, avoiding Ellie, and vice versa.
The main reason is because it just so happens both of your minds are occupied from the fact you two almost kissed.
It was like that for at least a little. Till your dad decided to talk.
“So Ellie? What’s your family doing for Christmas.” His mouth is still in the middle of chewing food, his hand reaches for his glass and he tilts it back swallowing back a large swig of wine.
Ellie finishes what’s in her mouth before talking. “Not really sure?”
She says it casually. Like not knowing what your family’s up to is the normal, yet for her it is?
“Why’s that..?” He says rubbing the back of his hand on his outer lips, getting any excess droplets of wine or even food.
“Honey.?” Your eyes shift from Ellie’s uncomfortable gaze to your moms. She’s clearly trying to get him to back off from the conversation, yet he keeps going.
“What- were taking a kid in for Christmas so I’m just overall interested what her parents are doing? You know as in why she’s joining us?” He shrugs, It’s like the fact he’s opening up his home gives some moral right to know?
And for that reason you can tell your dad won’t back off.
Not till her gets an answer that is.
“Dad?..” You say looking at him shaking your head.
Now Ellie’s uncomfortable, because at least in her mind she feels everyone wants to know a little sob story as to why she isn’t with her parents right now.
In stead she’s with her roommates parents.
Ellie just clears her throat. Her eyes are noticeably getting glossy and that’s her cue to leave.
“Sorry excuse me..” Ellie wipes the napkin down her lips and silently pulls back from the pulled in chair. She makes her exit b-lining straight for the bathroom.
Once Ellie’s gone you groan at your dad. “Seriously?” You clearly annoyed and he picks it up. But instead he just shrugs?
“What did I say? I simply asked a question” He says.
“Which she didn’t want to answer!” You’re now always pulling back your chair making an open exit for you. “Fuck.”
He tsk silently. “Language.”
“I’m gonna go check on her.” You sigh starting to walk down the open hallway.
You quickly turn back to your mom. “Thanks for dinner.”
She nods in response while muttering something to your dad. You hope it’s putting him in his fucking place.
You don’t know if that man just doesn’t have social cues but fuck sometimes he needs to read a room..
It didn’t take long to find Ellie, she only knew where one of the 2 bathrooms were so once you heard distance sniffling in the one planted beside your bedroom you knock on the door.
“Mhm?” Ellie’s voice try’s to come out as full and clear but it’s sounded more desperate and sad.
“Can I come in?” You ask.
“I’m okay..? Trust me?” Ellie says clearing her throat.
You can tell she’s not okay. But mentioning that didn’t seem important, so you just nodded in understanding before talking.
“Okay well can we talk, even if your okay..?” You ask.
A little sigh comes out then a click of the lock comes through.
You open the door and you see Ellie’s eyes are red.
After seeing that sight you hugged her.
Ellie wraps her arms under your arms which are looping around her neck. She hesitantly put her chin on your shoulder as you did the same.
“I’m okay..” Ellie sighs in your shoulder.
“Mhm..” You just nod against her shoulder.
“Sorry my dads a dick.” You say.
“Mine probably worse?” Ellie let’s out a chuckle, it’s dry and forced.
You pull back and look at her eyes.
You can feel her arms trail down your back finding a resting spot on your waist.
“I swear I don’t cry a lot.” Ellie chuckles once more. This time sounding a bit more real.
“That’s becoming hard to believe.?” You say tilting your head, Your hands come from around her neck and sit on her cheeks wiping any left over tears.
Ellie’s grip on your waist tightens just a little, she doesn’t want you to pull back but she knows what she’s doing right now, what she wants to happen, She knows it isn’t right.
Either way she can’t control her eyes from glancing at your lips..
She looked at them for a few seconds before glancing back at your eyes.
She sees how your eyes are now glancing back and forth between her eyes and lips..
Without thinking she presses a soft kiss to your lips holding your cheek..
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A/N -> BOOOOOO CHEATER 👎🏽👎🏽👎🏽👎🏽
I actually don’t know what the fuck to write for the AN! But I really did enjoy writing this chapter, and i have so much planned for the next one 😋
i promise i won’t take as long 🙏🙏🙏 (maybe)
I’m just so fucking busy with school and work, so this happens to always be the last thing on my mind.
I’ll try to be consistent with summer but then again i’m insanely busy in that time period too?
Other then that I’m gonna start working on hearts over hierarchy
happy pride month btw!!
and that’s all, hope you enjoyed reading this 😈
(Like and reblogs are so appreciated!)
Taglist - @a-little-bit-of-everybody @bready101 @shiimer @boobdrug @amberputh @macaroni676 @soupycloud @seraphicsentences @eringranola @mikellie
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ladywhistlewrites · 3 days
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Hi can I request a wife x Anthony bridgerton story where reader is finally pregnant and how she would tell Anthony and the family
hi darling, ofc!! (omg thanks for sending an ask)🩷
Anthony Bridgerton x female wife! reader
warnings: mentions of period/blood, pregnancy
***
The morning light filters through the delicate lace curtains, casting a warm glow over the room as you stretch beneath the covers. It’s early, and the house is still wrapped in the serene quiet of dawn. You take a deep breath, feeling the familiar tug of routine urging you to start the day. As you move to rise, a sudden realization freezes you in place. You glance down at the crisp white sheets beneath you and feel a jolt of surprise and anticipation. There is no sign of your monthly visitor.
Your heart begins to race. Could it be? After all these months of hope and disappointment, dare you believe it? Your hands tremble slightly as you press them to your abdomen, a wave of tentative joy washing over you. You have to be sure. Quietly, so as not to wake the household, you slip from the bed and dress quickly, your thoughts a whirlwind of hope and possibility.
Making your way down the hall, your steps are light, almost as if you are floating. Each breath feels like a prayer, a silent plea for your dreams to be true. As you approach Anthony’s studio, you hear the soft scratching of his pen against paper. He’s been up for hours, as is his custom, losing himself in work before the household stirs.
You hesitate for a moment at the door, gathering your courage. Then, with a bright smile breaking across your face, you push it open and step inside. Anthony looks up, his eyes lighting with surprise and pleasure at the sight of you.
“My love,” he greets, rising from his desk. “What brings you here so early?”
You can barely contain your excitement as you close the distance between you, your hands reaching out to grasp his. “Anthony, I have news. The most wonderful news.” Your voice trembles with emotion, and you see his eyes widen, a spark of anticipation igniting within them.
“What is it?” he asks, his tone eager, almost breathless.
“I… I think I’m pregnant,” you whisper, tears of joy welling in your eyes. “I checked the sheets this morning, and there was nothing. I haven’t felt any of the usual signs. Anthony, I believe we are finally going to have a child.”
For a moment, he is silent, the words hanging in the air between you. Then, with a cry of joy, he sweeps you into his arms, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around. Laughter bubbles from your lips as you cling to him, the room a blur of motion and happiness.
He sets you down gently, his hands framing your face as he gazes into your eyes, his own brimming with tears. “My love, you’ve made me the happiest man in the world,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “We are going to be parents.”
You nod, unable to speak, overwhelmed by the depth of his joy and the love shining in his eyes. He kisses you then, a tender, reverent kiss that speaks of promises and dreams and the future you will build together.
In the hours that follow, you and Anthony make plans to share the joyous news with the rest of the Bridgerton family. The day seems to fly by, a whirlwind of preparations and secret smiles, your heart soaring with the knowledge of the life growing within you.
As evening falls, the dining room is a picture of elegance and warmth. The table is set with the finest china, gleaming silverware, and fresh flowers that fill the air with a sweet fragrance. The soft glow of candlelight bathes the room in a golden hue, casting flickering shadows on the walls.
The family gathers, their faces alight with curiosity and affection. You can barely contain your excitement, your eyes meeting Anthony’s across the table, a silent communication passing between you. Finally, as the conversation lulls, Anthony rises, his hand reaching for yours.
“Everyone,” he begins, his voice steady but filled with emotion, “we have some wonderful news to share. We have just learned that we are expecting a child.”
For a heartbeat, there is silence, and then the room erupts in joyous exclamations. Daphne and Eloise rush to embrace you, their laughter mingling with yours. Benedict and Colin slap Anthony on the back, their congratulations hearty and sincere. The younger Bridgertons dance around the room, their excitement infectious.
Violet, her eyes shining with tears, crosses the room to you. She takes your hands in hers, her smile radiant as she draws you into a warm embrace. “Oh, my dear,” she whispers, her voice trembling with happiness, “this is the most wonderful news. I am so happy for you both.”
You hold her tightly, the love and acceptance in her embrace filling you with a profound sense of belonging. “Thank you, Violet,” you whisper back, your voice choked with emotion. “We are so blessed to have all of you to share this with.”
As the evening unfolds, the room is filled with laughter and celebration. Glasses are raised in toasts, and stories are shared, each one adding to the tapestry of joy that weaves through the night. You sit beside Anthony, your hand in his, your heart full to bursting with love and happiness.
This is the beginning of a new chapter, a future filled with promise and hope. And as you look around at the faces of those you hold dear, you know that this child will be welcomed into a world brimming with love and joy, surrounded by family who will cherish them always.
***
hope you like it!!🩷
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justauthoring · 2 days
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and i wonder... who? [4]
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somehow, you find yourself torn between the two hottest guys at your school and you have no idea who to choose. loosely based off of operation: true love where geto is eunhyeuk and gojo is dohwa :)
a/n: dudes i have so many chapters pre-written! be ready for consistency (lol)
pairing: geto suguru x f!reader, gojo satoru x f!reader
tag list: @username23356-blog - @anxious-chick - @novacaneformybrain - @mandysfanfics - @rottmntrulesall - @voiceofnoreturn - @rh-tg1 - @ky0mybeloved - @black-swan-blog27 - @ladytamayolover - @the8ate - @maybe-a-bi-with - @dudalo100 - @reese-is-right - @6lonely-town6 - @its-a-damn-blue-brick - @kimi01985 - @dorusken - @siimp4youu - @catobsessedlady - @paper--angel - @animechick555 - @meshiinuma let me know if you'd like to added!
Tonight was the night. 
You’re sure of it.
The decision was made pretty clear to you that night at the arcade. Just two days ago, Sukuna had finalized what you’d feared to be true—he didn’t care about you anymore. And honestly, maybe he never had. 
You’re not sure.
You don’t know what would possess him to date you in the first place if he was never interested in you, but you also don’t understand how, regardless of how he felt, a person could be so cruel to another. You don’t think you’re perfect, of course you aren’t but you don’t think you deserved any of the crap you put up with because of him. 
You should’ve realized it the second you caught him cheating—no, you should’ve realized sooner. All those months spent walking around him like you were on eggshells, afraid that the slightest action would make him react poorly to you. All the times he’d let his friends be cruel to you without saying a word to defend you. All the times he’d ditched you for someone else.
Him cheating on you was just the cherry on top.
You’d been silly to think you’d be able to make him like you again.
You’d been silly to think he even deserved a second chance in the first place. 
It wasn’t about you being good enough or not–it wasn’t about being clingy or undesirable or anything of the sort. You deserved better. And you refused to let him walk all over you any longer.
Because when you think about Gojo’s soft hands on you and the way he’d teased you and yet there had been no malice behind it, you’re warmed at the thought of a guy being so charming to you.
Because when you think about Geto’s concerned eyes and the way he’d given you his hoodie and walked you home, you’re eased at the thought of a guy being so gentle to you.
Sure, it’s maybe a little silly and sure, neither of them probably meant anything by it — nonetheless, though, their actions are sweet and kind and reassuring to you that you don’t need to put up with some guy who can’t even break up with you properly if he doesn’t like you.
And it’s that that stills your nerves the second you reach Sukuna’s apartment door.
You think of when Geto had dropped you off at home, the both of you slowing to a stop just outside your front door.
“This is me.”
Geto nods, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans as he lets his eyes wander across your house before settling back on you. “Cute,” he smiles teasingly. Your cheeks warm at his words, looking back at your tiny little house that you share with your parents; you weren’t a very wealthy family but the three of you made it work and truthfully, it was enough for you.
“Thanks,” you roll your eyes, shaking your head. You move to cross your arms over your chest, before you remember you’re still wearing his sweater.
The decision that comes to your mind's made in a split second.
“Would you like to come in?”
Geto pauses, eyes widening in disbelief as he glances over at you.
“I-I mean…” You stammer, the realization of what you’d just asked and how it came out sinking in as you mentally curse yourself for being so utterly stupid. “I mean… I can wash your hoodie for you and then you don’t have to wait until Monday?” Then, another thought occurs to you. “U-Unless you have so-something to do and don’t have the time which then, I totally–”
“Sure.”
You’re left with your hands in front of you, frantic like you tend to get when you’re nervous, blinking over at Geto as he nods. He takes a step forward and then walks past you, calling over his shoulder; “are your parents home?”
Snapping yourself out of your stupor, you spin to face him, racing past him and up the steps of your front porch while reaching for your keys. “No,” you answer somewhat shakily. “My mom usually stays late at her job and my dad works two weeks on and then seven days off so I don’t see him until his week off.”
Lips parting, Geto calls out a hum of understanding just as you unlock your door, stepping in before opening the door wider for him to step in after. You meet his eyes briefly before closing the door behind him, offering him a pair of slippers to swap out for his shoes and taking a moment to watch as he wanders into the living room, eyes glancing curiously.
“Did-Did you want anything to drink?” You ask, slipping off your own shoes before sliding your feet into your pink slippers.
“No,” he calls back, voice somewhat distant.
You nod even though he can’t see you, calling over your shoulder that you’re going to change, quickly shower and put his hoodie in the wash right away. Geto hums out in response and then you’re making your way down the hall, opening the door to your room. You pause just briefly, glancing over your shoulders at the door before shutting it behind you with a soft click. You make sure to be quick, not wanting to waste Geto’s time, unzipping his hoodie and sitting it against your bed before taking off your blouse and letting that fall to the floor. You grab a baggy t-shirt from your dresser and make your way to the bathroom connected to your room.
Your shower is quick–you mainly just want to get all the sticky residue from the soda off of you. The second you’re done, you step out, drying yourself off before slipping back on the skirt you’d been wearing before, along with your underwear and bra and then draping the baggy shirt over yourself.
You take your towel, your blouse and Geto’s hoodie and step out of your room, making your way further down at the hall before entering the final room on the right. You start the load right away, ignoring the nerves that bubble up in your chest as you finally make your way back to the living room/kitchen.
“The wash should only take forty minutes and then I’ll dry it right after so you don’t—”
You pause the second you see Geto standing against the far wall of the living room, a picture frame in his hands.
Glancing over your shoulder, Geto grins; “you were an adorable little girl.”
Face hot, you scramble, crossing the distance between the both of you and frantically yanking the photo from his hands. Geto lets you with a simple laugh, it grows in volume the second you hug the photo to your chest, turning away from him.
“It’s not that embarrassing.”
“Yes it is,” you pout up at him. “My parents insist on keeping this stupid photo even though I look horrendous.”
Geto just shakes his head. “You look cute. Especially with your little pig-tails.”
Glowering at him, you huff; “shut it. I’d like to see a photo of you when you were younger and see how fashionable you were then.”
“Okay,” Geto shrugs. “I’ll show you someday.”
It’s not the response you’re expecting. Not at all. Stunned, you turn to face him, lips parting as he smiles down at you warmly. The expression on his face is clear – he means it.
“O-oh, well—”
You’re cut off by the sound of the front door opening. Jumping, you spin around only to see your mom making her way in, the frame still clutched tightly against your chest as you freeze, Geto doing the same behind you—both of you oddly feeling embarrassed like you’d been caught doing something embarrassing when all you’d been doing is talking.
Geto’s cheeks are pink as he pushes his face into his shirt, trying to hide.
“M-mom!”
Blinking, your mom pauses by the door, meeting your eyes before glancing back at Geto who stands behind you. She blinks once or twice more before she smiles, somewhat nervously; “honey, who’s this?”
You remember then your mom doesn’t know who Geto is and you didn't tell her you were bringing someone over.
“O-oh,” you stutter, mind racing as you glance back at Geto who meets your gaze back. “This is—”
“Geto Suguru,” Geto answers for you, stepping past you swiftly to offer a hand to your mother. She seems surprised at first but her features ease into a warm smile, eyes shining as she shakes Geto’s hand in response. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
Damn. you didn’t know Geto could be that smooth.
“It’s lovely to meet you too,” your mother beams. “Are you a friend of my daughters? I assumed that she’d still be out on her date.”
Tensing, a flash of Sukuna laughing at you comes to mind.
That’s right… you’d forgotten in the midst of everything with Geto.
“It was more like a hangout with friends,” Geto explains swiftly. “I offered to walk her home. That’s all.”
Your mother takes the explanation with ease. “Oh. What a gentleman!”
Geto just laughs bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. You watch as the bun he normally holds his longer hair in loosens somewhat and for a brief moment, you have a burning desire to see it loose around his shoulders.
You blink yourself out of that thought quick.
“Would you like to stay for dinner, Suguru? I’m making some miso soup for dinner.”
“No that’s okay,” Geto brushes off gently. “I should really be heading home.”
Finally finding the courage to speak up, you rush forward; “but your hoodie!”
Your mother just glances at you confused but Geto shakes his head, smiling at you; “just give it to me on Monday,” he waves your concern away, moving to put back on his shoes. The second they’re on, he turns to your mother; “it was lovely to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N.” Then, his eyes fall on you and you freeze, confused by how piercing his gaze is. “I’ll see you Monday.”
You nod, numbly, and then he’s opening the door, offering one more wave before making his way out.
And you stand there for a moment longer, confused by the racing of your heart.
“Well,” your mother sings with a knowing look. “He was certainly handsome, wasn’t he?”
It was only Sunday, so you haven’t returned his hoodie to him yet… oddly, you found yourself excited.
A buzz pulls you from your thoughts and you come to the startling realization that you’ve been standing in front of Sukuna’s door, practically daydreaming about Geto. Slapping your cheeks lightly, you shake your body, pulling your phone from your pocket, smiling when you see it’s a text from Shoko.
Of course, you’d called her yesterday telling her what you planned on doing and she’d been more than ecstatic — given that this is something she’s been waiting for since when you and Sukuna practically started dating, you knew she had to be the first one you told. She’d expressed how proud she was of you and how she expected to hear every little detail Monday.
She was just texting you to wish you luck; 
hope you make him cry :))) he deserves it!
Then, following that, she texts; 
seriously tho, good luck. call me if he’s mean and ill come beat him up
Laughing softly to yourself, you’re quick to reply with a thanks and a joke about making him cry in return. Once it’s sent, you move to put your phone away, figuring you should actually get on with it instead of just standing out here like a freak — it would be the worst if he opened the door and caught you.
But, just as you move to turn your phone off, another text buzzes in.
And it’s not Shoko.
It’s Gojo.
What’re you doing?? 
Brows furrowing, you step back, moving so you’re not so obnoxiously in front of his door and move to reply.
About to break up with my boyfriend
Well, might as well be honest.
Why?
Gojo’s reply comes a second later.
Oh??? 0_0
Biting your lip, you snort.
Yup. 
Did you need something?
This time, his reply takes a bit longer. Your brows furrow when you see the speech bubble pop up and disappear a few time before finally, his message comes through; 
Nope! Good luck :P
Well… that was odd.
Thanks?
Gojo doesn’t reply after that. A few more minutes of waiting and you realize he’s moved on, you finally pocket your phone once again, eyes turning towards the door to Sukuna’s apartment. It was now or never–no more stalling or daydreaming… you needed to do this.
Taking one sharp inhale, you knock against the door. A few seconds pass and you hear footsteps approaching, and you expect it to be his little brother that opens the door (since it usually was), but to your surprise, it’s Sukuna.
His eyes narrow when he sees it’s you.
“What are you doing here?” He asks gruffly, and you take in the fact that he’s shirtless with only a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips.
Fuck… you forgot that how attractive he was.
No! Focus Y/N! Focus!
Shaking your head, you meet his gaze head on. “Is anyone home?”
Confused, Sukuna just raises a brow. “No? The idiots out with his friends.”
“Perfect,” you smile, stepping in without giving him the chance to argue otherwise. Your name leaves his lips in annoyance but you just ignore him, forcing yourself past him and moving so you’re standing in the living room, facing him with a small smile.
Huffing, Sukuna shuts the door with a somewhat aggressive slam before coming to stand in front of you.
“So?” He growls, “what is it?”
Straightening your back, you meet his eyes. “We’re over.”
There’s a beat of silence, it lasts for a second, then another, before a mocking laugh bubbles from Sukuna’s throat. “What?”
Stealing your nerves, you nod. “I’m breaking up with you,” you explain, voice tight. “I thought it would be right for me to do it in person rather than over text.”
The amusement fades from Sukuna’s face and he genuinely looks shocked when he realizes you’re serious; “you’re… actually breaking up with me?”
“Yes,” you assure, taking extra care to keep your arms next to you and not hug yourself out of comfort. You’re nervous, you’re positive you’re shaking, but you focus on making your voice as even and confident as possible. “That was all I wanted to say. I’m sorry for wasting your time. I’ll be going now.”
And you move to leave, but his hand wraps around your upper arm, halting your movements. His grip is tight, fingers pinching into your skin and you freeze.
“You must be joking,” he practically growls, and your eyes fall on him in surprise. “There’s no way you’re actually trying to break up with me right now.”
Swallowing thickly, you try to pull your arm out of his grip to no avail. “Yes, I am.”
His grip tightens, turning painful and a cry leaves your lips. The shock quickly twists into fear and you stare at Sukuna in disbelief. 
“You? Break up with me?”
“Yes,” you ground out, trying to ignore the fear. “Now. Let go.”
He doesn’t. Instead, Sukuna shifts and then his free hand is grabbing your other arm and he’s pushing you back, forcing you to stumble backwards as you try not to stumble over your own feet.
“Sukuna! Let go!”
“No. Shut up and listen.” He growls, and the harshness of his tone surprises you, body freezing as his grip tightens further–you’re sure there’s going to be bruises there tomorrow. “You don’t get to break up with me. Not you.”
“What-What are you even talking about?” You gasp, confused, baffled and worst of all, afraid. You thought you’d been so brave coming in here and breaking up with him. You thought you’d finally decided to stop letting him walk all over you and yet, here you are, terrified and stumbling over your words. “D-Don’t you hate me? Why… Why else would you kiss Mei Mei?”
And Sukuna freezes, body stilling as his eyes zone in on you. “You saw that?”
“I-I…” Forcing yourself to calm down, you nod; “I did.”
Sukuna laughs at that. “And you still ate lunch with me? You still decided to go on that date with me?”
Bewildered, you shake your head. “I was—”
“Why break up now?” He cuts in, leaning close. “What’s changed?”
He squeezes your arms when you don’t answer right away and you yelp.
“What’s changed?”
“I-I… I don’t want to be with you anymore!” The words tumble from your lips, quick and scared and without thought and yet, it’s the complete truth that comes pouring from you. “I’m tired of feeling like nothing because of you!”
Sukuna doesn’t say anything at first. His grip never wavers but he just stands there, staring at you, all whilst you try to pull yourself away. Then, just as his lips part, the sound of his name being called pulls both of your guys’ attention away from each other and on Yuji, his little brother, who stands by the door with his two friends, a boy and a girl that you’ve seen once or twice around the house the few times you’ve been over.
All three of them are looking at you both in surprise, but Yuji looks the most upset, a disturbed look on his face as his eyes settle in on the bruising grip Sukuna holds on your arm.
He loosens his grip a second later and you’re quick to take that chance to pull away, stumbling from him, meeting Sukuna’s eyes before focusing back on Yuji. You move quick, without thought, avoiding everyone's gaze as you straighten yourself out, rushing past Sukuna and towards the door where Yuji and his friends quickly move out of your way. Yuji looks like he wants to say something, reaching out for you in concern, but stops himself.
Just as you’re about to step out, you turn back to Sukuna.
“I meant it,” you force out, gripping the door tight to steady yourself. “We’re through.”
And the door falls shut behind you, your feet moving rapidly to get away and get home as fast as possible.
The second you are gone, Sukuna sends one sharp look at his brother before making his way to his room, slamming the door shut behind him and slamming his fist right into the wall next to it.
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pitchsidestories · 17 hours
Text
part of me wants forever II Sara Doorsoun x Barça!Reader
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masterlist I word count: 1672
a/n: hi, it's inspired by this request here, we hope the time jumps aren't too confusing. Let us know what you thought of the oneshot.
This was how it all begun. You didn’t expect your love story to start on an ice-cold evening in November after your team has played a Champions League group stage game against Eintracht Frankfurt, but it did.
“Sara, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Sara.”, Ingrid introduced you to each other, her eyes were shining as the stars above you in the night sky. Maybe it was written somewhere up there, what would be happening in the following days, weeks and months.
You knew the person you fell for would say that it was fate which brought you two together. But for you it was Ingrid who did.
 “Hi, Sara, nice to meet you.”, you greeted her smiling.
“Nice to meet you too.”, the older defender replied. The brown eyes who wee looking back at you were so beautiful like the person to whom they belonged too, they were something you could get lost into if this wasn’t an away game and you’d have to leave soon to the hotel you were staying at.
“You guys played really well.”, you complimented Sara in an honest tone. It was true, especially in the first half they had a stellar performance, in which Laura Freigang scored the opening goal, but in the second half your team turned it around and you won fairly comfortably with a 3:1.
“Thank you. So did you.. obviously.”, the german player answered with an amused grin on her lips.
“Y/n, we got to hurry up!”, Mapi reminded you impatiently.
“Don’t worry, Mapi. I’m coming.”, you reassured her, trying to shake off her fingers on the hood of your jacket.
“See you soon.”, Sara waved at you.
“I literally can’t wait.”, you told her. Even though you only shared some polite words with each other you had a feeling that this wasn’t the end of your script together.
On the next day your team was on the way home, the bus taking you from the Barcelona airport to the place where your cars have been parked.
 “Y/n?”, Ingrid looked up from her phone to turn her attention towards you who was sitting on the seats opposite of Mapi and her.
“Yes?”, you responded, lifting your gaze from the book you were currently reading.
“Sara messaged me.”, the Norwegian informed you, wearing a mischievous smile on her face.
“You mean Sara as in the cute Frankfurt defender.”, you replied innocently.
“Who else, genius!”, Fridolina laughed, sitting right behind you, she and Ingrid had to play with the player during their times in Wolfsburg.
“Do you know how many Sara’s there are?!”, you asked the Swedish player.
“Yes, but none of them looked at you the way she did. So, what was in Sara’s message, Ingrid?”, Fridolina stated.
Ingrids face split into a wide grin as she read the message on her phone screen: “She asked for her number.“
“You know what? You can give her my number.“, you said in a burst of courage that made Ingrid only smile brighter.
“I’ll.“
“Thank you.“
You watched the Norwegian type on her phone. “You’re welcome.“
Sara had immediately texted you that night. And as the months had passed, texting her became a daily habit for you. From good morning to good night, you shared your free-time with her. You haven’t felt that connected with someone for a long time.
One day you decided to jokingly text her about your shared taste in music, not expecting anything from it.
“Fletcher has a concert in Barcelona. You should come with us, Sara.“
“To a Fletcher concert?“, she wrote back, seemingly unimpressed.
“Yes, Jana got tickets.“, you answered.
You waited impatiently, the three dots appearing as she typed.
“I can’t say no to that.“, appeared on your phone screen.
You smiled happily: “Perfect.“
A few weeks after your text conversation, you found yourself at the concert, singing along while Sara had her arms wrapped around you. It was a casual gesture as you swayed from side to side with the rhythm.
Jana rolled her eyes: “Ugh, stop, you two lovebirds!“
“We’re doing nothing!“, you laughed, full of innocence.
“Literally.“, Sara agreed, continuing to move you with her.
Jana pulled out her phone: “Wait, let me at least take a picture of how annoying you two are.“
She snapped a few photos, a fond smirk on her face. You turned your attention back to the singer. This night was perfect and you wanted to enjoy every moment of it.
The Fletcher concert was something you liked to think back to during your busy football season.
The same was true for the biggest game of the season, the Champions League final. As expected, it was a tight game, Lyon made it hard to get through their defense. Only Aitana and Alexia found a way. So when the final whistle sounded, you were overcome with a mix of relief and happiness.
You hugged your teammates tightly, still processing what you had just achieved when Ingrid tapped you on the shoulder and pointed towards the stands. “Y/n, look who came.“
You only blinked at her for a moment before your gaze finally followed the direction of her hand gesture.
Saras face grinned at you from the stands. The sight of her was enough to make your heart pound in your chest.
You left Ingrid standing and ran over to Sara, stopping right in front of the Frankfurt defender: “Sara, I thought you couldn’t be here?!“
She only flashed you a wry smile: “Change of plans.“
“That’s amazing.”, you muttered, exchanging a short, but soft kiss with your girlfriend.
“You’re welcome.”, Sara smirked at you, as she wrapped her arms around you into a hug.
Mirroring the happiness Laura Feiersinger appeared next to her former Frankfurt teammate:” I almost lost her at the place when they sold the cake.”
“Very typical.”, you giggled, it was no secret that your lover has a sweet tooth.
Nervously Sara put a loose string of hair behind her ear:” That’s not true.”
“Sure.”, the Austrian midfielder smiled amusedly.
“It just looked so delicious.”, the German player defended herself, while a blush crept onto her high cheekbones.
“To be fair it did.”, Laura admitted.
“See?”, Sara responded satisfied.
“Well, I do.”, you tuned into their conversation, before your girlfriend kissed you, to celebrate the Champions League win properly.
Having Sara with you during all the chaos which was going on in the night was very special to you. In the morning you two chose to go on a walk to see a bit of the city. It amazed you to watch your girlfriend being so in peace with herself.
The defender was a warm person and over the weeks you’ve been together she started to share some pieces of herself and her history which you found admirable. Her late coming out, a father who wasn’t saying anything against that, but also didn’t like to talk about it anymore.
The heartbreak Sara felt when the first woman she fell for broke up with her. It impacted her so much that during an important game she scored an own goal. And her questioning if she could ever fall in love like that again? The German player knew the answer now, she was capable of loving again, you showed her how.
Fast forward and it was time to be with your national teams again, you both couldn’t wait for the upcoming free days afterwards which you planned to spend together.
“Sara, we got to talk.”, Lena Oberdorf yelled at the older woman who just sat down with Felicitas Rauch in the dining room of the hotel they were staying at.
“About what?”, Sara frowned who didn’t know her best friend in the team knew what the young midfielder was thinking about.
“I was suspecting you fell in love again, but now Obi found proof of it multiple ones.”, the fellow defender who played in the USA explained with a cheeky smile on her lips.
“What are you talking about?”, the Frankfurt player asked her teammates innocently.
“You and y/n, who football wise is so out of your league.”, Lena replied grinning.
“Beauty wise too.”, Felicitas added in a teasingly tone.
“Excuse me? That’s not what friends are supposed to say.”, Sara protested, her mouth formed to a little pout.
Felicitas smiled apologetically: “Just kidding… but playing wise not. She’s at the best football club in Europe!“
“And she and her team won against you this season. Twice.“, Lena added, rubbing salt into the wound.
“I’m aware of that.“, Sara shrugged unimpressed.
“Just a friendly reminder.“, Lena said.
Sara rolled her eyes: “That doesn’t mean we can’t go out.“
“True. I guess she’s the reason you can’t visit me in the US in your free time?“, Felicitas asked, casually changing the subject.
“That’s not true! You’re always busy!“, Sara protested.
Her best friend raised her eyebrows: “So are you apparently!“
“It’s not because of her. I’m still a football player.“, Sara explained, cringing at the thought of how packed both of their schedules were.
“I know that. So when will you introduce me to her?“, Felicitas continued.
Sara only groaned in response.
In the evening, you were on the phone with Sara as she recounted the details of the talk she had with her teammates.
“So they know about us now?“, you concluded, a smile on your lips.
“Yes, apparently we’re on Ingrids photo dump.“, Sara replied with a laugh.
You shook your head about your Norwegian teammate: “Ingrid might have done that on purpose. Sorry for that.“
“Typical.“, Sara sighed, slight fondness for her former teammate sneaking into her voice.
“She said she had a feeling when she introduced us and I believe her.“
“There’s no way!“
You sucked in your breath in feigned shock: “And I thought you were the romantic!“
“Oh, I am. I just like to think that it was fate.“, Sara replied. You could almost hear the wink through the phone.
Lowering your voice, you whispered: “Me too. I want this to be forever.“
pictures are from pinterest.
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