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#like i have such a clear vision for her in this au but i have very little confidence in my writing skills so i keep like
nevertheless-moving · 6 months
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Hesina Willshaper AU
Step one canon divergence: Amaram's army doesn't do the kind thing. Kaladin's listed next of kin are sent a letter stiffly informing them that their son is a deserter and, thanks to the highmarshall's mercy, has been sold into slavery.
Step two canon divergence: a light spren has started following Hesina around.
The letter reaches hearthstone.
Hesina cries the bones of the first ideal through labor pangs. Their wretched diamond lamp grows slightly dimmer during childbirth.
Hesina and Lirin discuss if there's anyway they could possibly find their son and pay his slave debt. They're not optimistic.
Hesina talks with her lightspren.
Lirin and Hesina talk again about trying to find their son, now that Oroden is starting to be weaned.
Hesina appears to have grown taller. No one but the two of them seem to be aware but they're worried other future changes might be more noticeable.
Hesina and Lirin realize that she can mold rock as if it was clay with stormlight. A spark of hope for freeing their son emerges.
The two leave town.
They find a slave market in the nearest city. They see other parent's sons, but not their own.
Hesina swears to free those in bondage. Stormlight starts coming easier.
They make a tunnel. Rebellion follows. Lirin is horrified by the violence (the violence is not actually that bad all things considered. a couple guards dead. some bystanders frightened. Fair amount of property damage as they rob the military barracks food supply, steal every sphere that's not nailed down. and also steal the spheres that are nailed down. (Lirin won't admit it but the stealing from lamps part is kindof fun.)).
Many of those they freed flee. Some return to slavery willingly, scared of retribution. Many decide to follow the Radiant woman who has vowed to see others like them freed.
The group proceed to the next town. They find another slave market. They make a tunnel. There is more resistance than last time, clearly they were warned something might happened. Hesina kills a man.
Lirin is terrified by what his wife is becoming.
Hesina swears to shelter those without homes. The lightspren forms an unbreakable hammer, perfect for knocking crem free from buildings. And for knocking down men.
A now larger motley group seeks shelter in a mountain town razed in one of Alethkar's many skirmishes over the last decades. Hesina builds homes. Lirin begs her to stay here, to stop fighting before she goes to far down this path, not to go to war. The slaves they've freed are split, many wanting to stay, hide, some wanting to fight and free more, with a radiant at their head, there's a real chance to change things. Hesina lingers, practicing, spends some time falling in and out of shadesmar.
Lirin and Hesina separate.
Lirin stays with Oroden and the noncombatants. Hesina leads those who want to fight to another city, still trying to find their son, still trying to free everyone's children.
The town settles into a routine. Hesina and Lirin miss one another. This is the first time they've gone longer than two days without seeing each other in the last 25 years, and the two days was only when Lirin had to travel to where someone had overturned a cart on the road nearby and Hesina had to stay and watch the children, too young to travel. besides that, it had been every day. they keep turning to talk to each other.
While the army is gone, the free town is attacked by those trying to reclaim her property.
Hesina swims deliberately through shadesmar for the first time. reaches lirin just in time.
Lirin accepts that not fighting won't stop the violence. (It breaks him just a little bit)
Hesina shouts that one person's freedom ends where another's begins. She vows to fight against powers which would rather see their people in cages then homes. A thousand light spren rise up to grant her strength.
(yes I know she's moving fast through the oaths. but she's always been a thoughtful woman and she raised two children who asked difficult questions and now shes mother to another several hundred. honestly she had already worked through some of these concepts before they became actionable on such a grand scale.)
Lirin vows to support his wife through whatever trials the Almighty seems inclined to put her through.
The lightspren, who has started to get some memories back, remembers Oathgate Spren not terribly far from here by physical realm measurements, guarding a hidden human city
the stone remembers the way the radiants once traveled.
The path to a kingdom in the sky is slow — there are many cages to break on the way.
Kaladin doesn't know it right away, because people weren't exactly telling slaves about the freedom riots, but slave wagons start having harder and harder times reaching the shattered planes after him.
Someone mocks Lirin for having a wife so determined to pursue the masculine art of war. Lirin gets pissy and decides to show them by learning to read and write to help support the administrative side of his wife's kingdom wide asskicking.
The highprinces lead a fairly successful misinformation campaign about the slave riots, lots of accusations of rampant violence, the dregs of society lashing out, you can probably imagine
The ongoing rebellion is large enough that word trickles to the bridge crews, encouraging bridge four's hope for escaping, while also making it substantially more daunting, as the crews are even better guarded than canon.
Rumors of a female radiant swirl around. Most people assume it's a woman in shardplate with some sort of tunneling fabrial, which is still pretty crazy, but several major players Take Note
A very large and tired huddled mass of people reach Urithiru. there's just enough squires, and two new willshapers with their own oaths, to make tunnels through the shattered planes and reach the oathgate without being seen by the alethi armies
the parshendi army is another story, but some are willing to take a chance listening to the neshua kadal, and come with them.
The political implications of Dalinar freeing 1000 slaves is slightly more complex, especially considering the rebellions have been impacting Sadeas the hardest
About a week after being freed, Kaladin hires a spanreed intermediary to write home and find out if his hometown is alright (again, a lot of misinformation and rumors about the violence of the riots)
Is informed by Laral that his family left town looking for him shortly before the riots started, were presumed dead
Kaladin is under the impression that 1) his parents are dead because of him 2) the Rebellion is not the righteous fallback plan that he and the men were hoping it was.
Hesina has many reasons to go to the shattered planes. Nearest part of the trade network for food and necessary goods. Many slaves to be freed from there, and a part of her still hopes to find her son, even thought its been so long. Home of Alethkar's political leaders, the source of Alethkar's slavery.
I have spent. A LOT of time imagining many possible reunions between kaladin and his mom in my highly specific high oath hesenia au. She has a couple faces she could wear when visiting the planes. Brightlady. Radiant. Cagebreaker. Queen of Urithiru (not her real title, they're tentatively trying the Listener council model, but they know what the Alethi will understand). Even darkeyed mother, if she and Lirin approach slowly from a different direction. Honestly, pleased as I am with all of the above, a lot is flexible, the key here is kaladin going "MOM??" In some fashion One possible Reunion Here
Thank you @sorchasolas for conversation and the urithiru ideas and for leading me to actually write all this down <3
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nightwingsaregoths · 21 days
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so sorry for Morrowseer... he was an advisor for the queen and met a fiery end, but if he existed in real life, he would have been that type of person who's been complaining about his horrid work-life balance for the past 5 years and has around 6 hours of sleep a night, makes Moon's blood pressure shoot up from merely existing in the same space as her mother (usually Morrowseer stays in the living room and Secretkeeper watches Netflix off her phone at max volume in the kitchen) but it's okay because they're keeping the marriage together until their only child turns old enough and leaves the house. Also drops comments about IceWings and SandWings and RainWings while Moon slumps in her seat and stares awkwardly while refusing to think about the very real people who flashed through her mind. He's also on medication for something and has one of those middle aged male afflictions that he'll have until the day he dies. We suspect that his genetics'll take him out in 30 years. Unfortunately, his sacrifices have done much for the family and Moon still feels guilty as he gripes about it. Still makes Moon feel like garbage when he compares her to all the other NightWing kids in the neighborhood, whose coursework, GPAs, and extracurriculars he knows in detail from all that NightWing parent gossip (he's still clowning on Farsight for letting Fierceteeth go to the community college). Also says something to Moon that will affect her psyche for years and then yells at her for being clearly affected by having a parent like him.
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beannary · 2 years
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I love your little prince au!
It's so interesting to see Big Mama being so caring, until little lines like ''It is only with my help that you can be your best self'' and you just see how manipulative she is to poor Donnie
Can't wait for the next part!!
im so glad that youre liking the au so far! and im so happy that like big mama is coming off as both like caring but ultimately manipulative because that is exactly the vibe im going for!
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angelmichelangelo · 3 months
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in failing to write anything for my human!au i have instead decided to fawn over drawing raphael’s very cool girlfriend instead lol
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shaisuki · 4 months
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𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗦𝗘 𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦
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ft. bully! gojo satoru and geto suguru
content warnings college au, heavy bullying, gaslighting, noncon, dubcon, implied sexual assault, allusions to depression/suicide, alcohol consumption, drinking, implied drugging, fatphobia, overdosing, naoya zen'in is an asshole, humiliation, threats, minor oc character. dead dove do not eat.
notes this might come as disappointing since some of you wanting revenge what this two idiots had done to reader. their are some matters that i think is too complicated and impossible so i came with this way as the breaking point where reader starts to retaliate/plan her revenge. will get to it later and to that anon, who asked for the revenge, i will get once i start to finish this one up. please read the warnings, i don't want someone bitching in the comments telling me that the contents above is uncool. it truly is not cool. that's why it have warnings. it is on a fictional context. do read the warnings before continuing. also do let me know of what you think of this chapter.
read part one, here. two here.
SERIES MASTERLIST
synopsis you let them take and take what they can from you. you were a nobody after all but everybody have their breaking point.
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the world is a blur to you. colors of red and blue dances in your vision while voices whispers to you. what's happening? you can't move. it's like your body were made of lead. you can't understand what they were saying. multiple faces stares at you, are you dead? is this what you see when people surround you while they lower your casket. is it? you hope it was, cause you didn't plan on living anymore. there's nothing worth moving forward and the world around you turns black.
there's a beep and then silence. you hear before you see and when you opened your eyes, all you can see is a bright light above you. it took you minutes to adjust your vision and realize where you are. you're in a hospital. laying on a bed and you started to get irritated at your oxygen mask. you tug at it. getting frustrated why it keeps coming back at you before someone put their hand on it. completely removing it and there you breath. your sight darted to the hand who helped you until your sight travels to his arms and then to his face. a brief recognition flashes through you.
“nanami?” you call his name unsure but you know it was definitely him. it was hard to mistake him for someone. there's his blonde hair, neatly parted. his pristine beige sweater paired a dark colored trouser, not a crinkle in sight and his signature silver watch in his wrist. you met him once at the literature club and decided you were going to be there too not until it changed due to some circumstances. his lips parted but before he can speak, a cheery voice interrupted him.
“she's awake!?” said haibara, you also knew him since he and nanami were always together. seeing your confused state, his voice died down. “what happened?” you asked them and they exchanged looks before haibara answers you.
“we found you passed out in the lawn. thought you were drunk but you weren't breathing.” haibara's voice was soft while he slowly breaks down the reason why you ended up here.
a doctor comes inside to your room before haibara can finish. you took note of her pristine white coat with her surname embroidered on it. clicking her pen and whipping out her clipboard she pulled out of nowhere. you were distracted by it. the doctor's eyes is on you now and you began to frown.
the doctor coughs clearing her throat before speaking. “hello, ms. (y/n). i'm glad you're awake now.” noticing your confused expression she pauses began answering the question. “to answer your question you were unconscious for two days and is brought for possible assault. we need your con—”
“no!”
“ms. it would help for you t—”
“you heard me!? i said no!” you scream at the doctor and your tears appeared in your eyes. you didn't realize you were screaming. nanami and haibara stand there in silence but the looks on their face said otherwise. concern painted in their faces and the doctor bows before leaving. looking at the men inside in your room to call her if you need anything.
cause if they would test you, they would find the remains of their sperm inside you and then report? who will believe you? it would be buried like the case of another girls like you who were too afraid nor fight their abusers. you don't find the point of that. they would twist the words out of you. it was easy to believe than you.
you curled up in bed and did the next thing you can. cry. now, you're in here and the events before this plays in your head in repeat.
“f-fuck”
satoru curses out while suguru bites your ear. your body like jello as they spilled their load for the nth that day. both of them lowered your body after fucking your brains out. warm up, they say. you shiver as you feel their cum running down your thighs. feeling disgusted as it began to stick after being exposed to the air. you grab the wipes but suguru stopped you, grabbing it from your hands and cleaning you up. fixing your skirt in the meantime.
“worth every penny.” suguru mutters. staring at the new clothes they bought for you. a baby blue corseted puff-sleeved, square neck top matched with a black skirt that rests on your mid thigh is what they forced you to wear. it feels tight. intentionally buying it one size smaller than you usually wore and it more feel you like a stuffed sausage rather a comfortable piece of clothing. you can't say no to what they wanted. you're a bit of grateful that they allowed you to wear your white sneakers rather than those kitten heels that would put your feet in blisters.
satoru's fingers brushes through the expanse of your exposed flesh. playing with the small bow in your top. sighing, “suguru, can we have more with (y/n)-chan?” his best friend chuckles at him. “idiot, we're already running late, after that we can.” satoru pouts. “tch, party pooper.” he ignores gojo and moves his attention to you.
“smile, this is your first real party. you're going to enjoy this.” suguru lifts your chin up with his finger and you obediently nodded. “ditch and you know what will happen.” he warns.
it was a bad idea. the moment you stood in the front door. the party was already in motion. you can hear the people inside shouting profanities and booming music mixed with already drunk frat members and student bodies. this was never really your crowd and when you were shoved inside with gojo and geto you were done and you already felt like crying. you look at the duo in front of you. they were already engaged in conversation with the other people here.
“gojo, you son of a bitch. you fucking came.” a guy hollered in the side and you see more of his features as he gets nearer. a snarl in his face with multiple piercings in his ear. a hair dyed blonde with green accents.
“ah, zen’in. wouldn't missed this just i could wipe that smirk off your face.” gojo mocks him and before the guy whom gojo called zen’in darts his sight to you. he raises a brow. “you two in fat bitches now?” pointing at you with hand cupping a plastic cup. gojo scoffs. “none of your business, zen'in.” glaring at him but he can't see that gojo's looking at him with dark glasses in the way. “then you two wouldn't mind me using her.” he suggested and suguru gaze darkens at him. “fuck off, naoya.” almost growling at naoya and the latter raises his hand in mock defeat before finding shit he could entertain himself with.
suguru scowls after naoya left, he looks at you like you just turned his mood sour. “you're an embarrassment.” he says and you bit your lip. keeping the tears at bay and you don't really want to embarrass yourself more at this party. “hey, hey suguru.” gojo taps his shoulder. “let loose, don't naoya get to you.” satoru glances at you. his blue eyes peering in his glasses. “you're right.” his stare cold at you. “find a seat, (y/n). you're embarrassing us now with you around.” you nod and you find yourself in a vacant corner. near to those already wasted or just plain chilling in the couch in front of you.
what did you expect? that were all sex talk or when they're in good mood. all those praise and compliments are just enough to feel you good about yourself for a bit and then they'll come destroying it. you stare at the view through the window. the night's particularly beautiful and peaceful except the place you're in and you're already missing the comfort of your bed.
you take a sip from your cup. a girl gave it you earlier saying that it's a special concoction that's only made at this parties. unsure you took it. not wanting to show ungratefulness to someone whose only been polite to you and she seems nice. you cringe slightly at the taste and the burning of the liquid as it flows down your throat. coughing you bring down the cup, not used to drinking.
your first time being a party, your eyes wander how your peers lost their selves in the influence of alcohol. some where dancing and mingling. talking like they were friends and you caught of others taking their business upstairs. you were kind of jealous how everyone are the life of the party and you sit here in your misery. you continue to observe everyone and you caught gojo. it's impossible to miss his tall stature and his white hair standing in the crowd. a petite woman is linked to him. her thin arms are wrapped around his neck and it was clear what they were doing. there they stood in the crowd. kissing.
“satoru.” gojo was taking a swig of his drink when a girl approached him. calling his name like they were lovers but it was more like an ex-fling. never had a relationship with her. she was only a temporary fun. “ah, sar—ah, sayuri.” he almost curses at himself. sayuri playfully pouts at him and there it is, the batting of eyelashes. “that's mean, satoru. you already forgot me.” her lips puckers before placing a hand in his chest. if this was a another party of gojo and he really liked this girl. he would have taken her upstairs. he caught you in the corner. you were like a child in awe at the people in this house. gojo almost chuckles at your cute antics but suppressed it and then a cruel idea pops in his mind. “missed me?” he asks sayuri and there was no answer needed as he crashes his lips to sayuri. his sight never leaving yours and when you caught him. he watch as your eyes widens, you lower your head in embarrassment before chugging that drink in your cup in one swig. he smirks in the kiss as he watches you wiped your tears away. he always liked making you cry.
you should have ditched this stupid party, even it means getting punished by those again. you were hurt. they always like to torture you. listen as they tell you how worthless and unlovable you are while they keep girls who are clearly not you by their side. those girls were perfectly fit for them to be seen in public and you were there for them to humiliate you. with your head lowered, you stifled a sob. wiping your tears with your hands shaking. they kept flowing and you kept messily wiping them and with that you slowly made your way outside. discreetly making your way through the door and you almost laugh. you were a nobody. you're not made for pretty things and this goddamn outfit you wore only added to your misery. you never felt beautiful and it looks ugly on you. wrapped a sausage with a different and it will still look the same.
no one noticed you leaving except for suguru's watchful gaze.
suguru finds his friend making out with a girl he definitely doesn't remember. suguru slaps his back and satoru broke the kiss. wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and ignores the girl he was just making out seconds ago. suguru points the door where you left earlier. you're really looking for trouble and with that they left following you.
sayuri was stunned being shoved aside again. she was angry. how the fuck did you get those two's attention especially gojo's? she's beautiful. she's thin. academically excelling and you, a fat nobody bitch easily made those two fall for you. she knows they were just playing at you and sayuri could take it but being shoved again by satoru isn't what she expected tonight. she's going to be satoru's bride. it was decided from the start and satoru knows it. their fathers friends since their college days had made a decision to marry their son and daughter before they were even born and she did everything she can just to have satoru's attention but why can't she even get to look at her without her trying. it's your fault. it's your fucking fault! you deserve to die. you're fucking stupid for accepting that drink like you're a fucking saint and now, maybe you'll rethink your choices of making those your own and satoru will only have his eyes for her and only her.
weird. why are your hands sweating? it's cold. freezing cold. you know this temperature at night is normal but why are you freezing cold. hah, your vision's starting to get funny too. where there always stars in the sky? ahh, i want to go home. i wonder if akira's still awake. i didn't told her that i was going away tonight. my eyes hurt. you were crying. this was your thoughts as you walked away.
it was to easy to catch you with their long strides. satoru grabs your flabby arm angrily. “we told you, you don't leave without us. do you really want to get punished, (y/n)-chan?” his voice snarky as he digs his nails in your arms. it hurts. it really must really hurt but you're suddenly numb to feel anything. you just stare at him in confusion and then you hear voices. they were calling them to get back.
gojo scowls at them. your knees buckled and you sat in the ground. geto tsked. “we're going back to you later.” he says and they left you there and there were loud cheers. you lay there in the ground. numb and your vision fades away.
you blinked as you stare in the nothingness. that's what you last remembered. they left you there and you hoped you died. you can't take another bullshit of what they put you through. the tears continuously flows from your eyes and your blanket is wet with tears. haibara puts a comforting hand in your shoulder and you bursted crying again. this was the real kindness you felt since the accident. they didn't blame you. they only stayed and made sure you were resting enough. stranger they maybe or an acquaintance. you would never forget this kindness from them.
days. nights. you stayed in the hospital until you were cleared. you made nothing of what happened to you. putting it in the records as an allergic reaction in which the hospital agreed. just like that even when you're in the brink of death of what happened to you. if you took the procedure for assault. they would be guilty but it was days old now and bruises are left in your skin as nothing but reminders of the humiliation of what they did to you.
for now, you're going to cry. cry until there's nothing left to cry for.
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kingtomura · 6 months
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Cat and mouse
synopsis: Your ex boyfriend has some nerve texting you at three in the morning — an entire week after the disaster breakup you had. You should really go over there and give him a piece of your mind. Well, you know what they say about famous last words.  wc: 6.1k | crossposted to ao3 content: tomura shigaraki x female reader, no quirks au, toxic tomura, reader is kinda toxic too tbh, unhealthy relationships, breaking up and making up, vaginal fingering, overstim, breeding kink, piv, dubcon creampie, degredation, threats of baby trapping, hurt/comfort, sweet at the end idc
You’ve told your friends time and time again to stay out of your business. They never listen. 
“Oh my god, Kirishima? Is he even twenty yet?” You drag as you watch your friend flip through several pictures of the redheaded boy like he was a member of the bachelor. 
She smiles, scrolling her phone for more options, “no, but he will be in a couple of months!”
“No!” Your words are sharp. You love Mina but god, you don’t want her to play matchmaker with you. It’s not like you’re a charity case or something. 
She gasps and you swear you could see the lightbulb go off above her head. “What about Denki? He’s fun!” 
You groan, falling back onto the bed and covering your eyes with your arm. “Mina.” 
“Hey, just give her a break okay? It’s only been about a week.” Your saving grace Yaoyorozu speaks up and it’s nice to finally have someone on your side. 
“Thank you.”
“Seriously? So we’re just going to sit around and watch you mope about all day?” Mina questions, irritation clear in her voice and it grates your ears.  
“Preferably, yes! Just let me be.” You roll over, face officially shoved into your pillow. It’s been a rough couple of days and you haven’t gotten a single call or text from Tomura. Not that you should be expecting one. You broke up with him after all. 
It’s just.. this time feels different. Usually there’s more arguing and he’s fighting for you to stay around, but this time there was nothing. No quips, no insults, just “fine, get out then.”
That hurt the most. 
You had no idea what he was up to. 
Maybe he was as depressed as you were. 
Maybe he’s found someone else. 
The thought makes you stop in your tracks. The idea of Tomura, your tomura with someone else is enough to make you nauseous. 
You jump to your feet and rush to the bathroom, locking yourself in and falling to your knees. 
God, what if that was why it was so easy?
You pull out your phone, the device lighting up and unlocking with your facial id. 
Tomura doesn’t use social media much but you could still check to see if he’d blocked you. 
To your surprise, he hadn’t. 
He hasn't posted anything either and there’s no new person in his followers. 
You feel yourself exhale a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. No change is a good thing. 
There’s knocking on the door and you thank the stars you locked it. Your friends would judge you so hard if they saw you lurking through your ex’s social media. 
“Hey, are you okay in there?” It’s your saving grace Yaoyorozu again and you almost feel bad for shutting her out. 
“Yeah, I’m sorry if it feels like I pressured you! I’ll give you some space.” Mina's regretful voice calls and it makes your heart clench. You know she means well but she just doesn’t understand. None of them do. 
Whether you want to admit it or not, you love Tomura. 
Yes, you argue and yes, you fight, but he just gets you. He’s so cynical, but so caring — in his own special way. Too bad he was such an asshole. The argument wasn’t even supposed to go that far. 
There are tears beginning to blur your vision and you wipe them away, willing the feelings down and standing to your feet. 
If he wanted you to stay away, then fine. You could do that. 
You splash cool water onto your face and take a breath, steeling yourself and getting ready to face your friend once more. It was Saturday and they were convinced you needed a fun girl’s night.
It takes a lot to refrain from cringing at the phrase, but you believe they held some truth with the idea. You definitely didn’t want to be alone right now.
You unlock the bathroom door, meeting Mina and Yaoyorozu’s worried expressions with a smile. 
“We should probably get ready now, huh?”
Mina’s eyes light up, smile blinding and excitement contagious.
“Yes! Jirou and the others are here now.” She starts to clap, excitement buzzing around her, “Girl’s night is going to be amazing!” 
—-
Girl’s night was a bust.
The moment everyone arrived the apartment quickly filled with chaos. Noisy and busy, it was all giving you a headache. Until someone decided it would be a good idea to pregame before going out.
In preparation for the night your friend’s insisted that you get dolled up, hair makeup and skimpy clothes you wouldn’t look twice at on any normal day. 
You had to admit it made you a little more excited to get out and at least feel like your world isn't crashing around you. It was supposed to be a fun little night out. Somehow one drink turned into two, which turned into three which turned into Mina swearing she could beat everyone in a dance battle. 
The group only got more riled up as everyone indulged in this silly challenge. 
One challenge leads to another, which leads to more drinking, which then ends in everyone being too drunk to function and knocking out — all laid out in odd places around your living room floor and couch. 
The groggy feeling came first, your arms radiating in dull pain as you vaguely recalled trying to beat Mina in a contest of who could do the most push ups. It sure as hell wasn't you, but the drunk version of you thought it was possible to move mountains. 
You blink a few times, trying to will your eyes to rapidly adjust to the darkness of the room and find out what this odd buzzing noise beside you had been. Turning over, you find your phone, squinting as the too bright screen lights up your face and you see that it is three a.m.
You had fallen asleep with everyone else.
The phone buzzes again, lighting up and you have to squint further to read the contact name.
Tomura. 
Your eyes widen as you scan over the three texts he’s sent you. 
Wasting no time, you rush to your feet and into the bathroom so you can look at your phone without the chance of prying eyes overlooking your shoulder. Even though they were probably going to be out until late morning.
Tomura’s messages were short, no paragraphs, no essays but three different messages sent in succession. 
When are you coming to get your shit?
I’m tired of waiting.
And I’m deleting our farm btw. 
The first two messages don’t get much of a reaction from you, especially since it’s three a.m and he knows you’re usually asleep around this time. 
But the third message…
Your Stardew Valley farm that you’ve had and worked on together for almost two years being put on the line and threatened? What the fuck was his problem?
This farm was a constant in your relationship. Throughout the ups and downs and back and forths. You were sure that hell would freeze over before you both would give up that progress. But here he is, threatening you while you would have been asleep. What an asshole.
Your feet are moving before your brain can stop them and you make your way to the front door. Since your friends were all passed out it would be easy to sneak over to Shigaraki’s place, give him a piece of your mind and then sneak back. In and out, quick and easy. 
Your decision is made and you grab your coat, deciding to just go over there as you are. You hadn’t changed out of your outfit that was supposed to be for the night out, but it didn’t matter. You only needed to get over there and get there fast.
Once you arrive at Tomura’s doorstep you waste no time knocking. It’s around three in the morning so he should still very much be awake. 
There's a chill in the air as you wait for his answer and you wrap your jacket closer to your body. A rumble of thunder caught your attention and it's then you notice the rain clouds rolling in. You knew it would only be a matter of time before the bottom of the sky falls out and rain drenches everything. You were on borrowed time if you wanted to make it back before then.
After what feels like forever the door finally opens, revealing a very cozy pajama-clad Tomura, who seemed a little too pleased for his own good — if that sly smile he was doing a bad job at hiding was anything to go by. 
You don't give him a chance to greet you or say anything for that matter, stopping his words in their tracks as you cut him off. “What do you want?”
He doesn’t bother hiding his smirk now, the expression making your fists clench and your anger boil. “What do I want? You’re at my door, in front of my apartment.” He scoffs, clearly getting the exact reaction he had wanted from you, “I should be asking what do you want?” 
Caught like a deer in headlights. Whatever, you don't let that stop you as you pull out your phone to show him his text. “You sent this, I know you’re bluffing. What do you want?”
Tomura shrugs, leaning against his door frame and giving you a pleased look. Expression relaxed and content. Not a care in the world. “To talk.”
“Well, I'm here now, so let’s talk.” You spit, crossing your arms and waiting for whatever else he would throw at you. 
“Sure, but you should come in first.” He starts, looking up towards the darkened sky, confirming his assessment. “It’s gonna rain soon, you know.”
Of course you knew that. 
You just didn’t want to give him more time than you had. But you agree and go in, ignoring the fighting feeling in the back of your mind screaming at you to turn away and hightail it out of there. 
Tomura’s home is the exact way it was the day you left, give or take a few more containers of takeout littered around the place. You have half a mind to scold him about it, but quickly remember that it isn’t your place to do that anymore. 
So instead you stay quiet, following him into the apartment and into the living room. Opting to stand as he sat, and resisted the urge to get comfortable. 
“So, what do you want to talk about?” You try, done watching him pick up a controller and boot up a video game. Seriously? 
Your patience was wearing thin now as you watched him ignore you to play some stupid game. You try calling to him again, knowing this was probably a waste of your time and groans.
“I was in the middle of something before you got here. Let me finish and we’ll talk.” It's flippant the way he waves you off and continues the game. The lack of care only hurting your feelings further and making you realize this may have all been a big mistake on your part.
You shouldn’t be at your ex boyfriend’s house being ignored. You should be at your house getting drunk and hanging out with your best friends. There was no reason to stay somewhere you’re obviously not valued.
It’s a simple choice when you put it into perspective. 
But things are always easier said than done. 
You sigh, the air puffing out your cheeks, a bad habit you had when angry, and walk right in front of Tomura’s TV. There was more satisfaction in making him lose the game and then announcing your departure than just leaving quietly. 
He cranes his neck to see around you, but it doesn’t work, finally giving up as his character inevitably dies. “What!?”
“I’m leaving!” You announced, turning on your heel and heading towards the front door.
“You had to make me lose first? I said I was almost done!” He spat back, rising from the couch to follow you.
You shrug, “I don’t care. Why invite me in if you’re just going to ignore me?”
“Didn’t think you had the patience of a child.'' Tomura stands in front of you, cutting through your path and stopping you in your tracks.
It's almost comical the way he insults you. “Okay pot, meet kettle.” You try to brush past him, but he side steps with you. 
“What are you dressed like that for anyway? Did you go out tonight or something?”
“No!” You deny, a little louder than intended and then pause. “But it’s none of your business what I do anyway.”
Tomura hums at this, taking the words in and running them through his mind as he gives you a once over, eyes scanning from the too-tight shirt you wore — showing a generous amount of cleavage, down to your mini skirt that left little to the imagination. 
“Could've fooled me.”
“What do you mean by that?” You hate when he gives you cryptic answers, like it’s impossible to pry into his mind to see what he was thinking at the moment. 
“You knew you were coming to see me so I dont get why you're wearing that skimpy shit. Unless you wanted me to check you out.”
“Not everything is about you, Tomura. Maybe I just wanted to dress up and look nice.”
“Bullshit—”
“God, Tomura you always fucking do this!” You yell, walking right up into his face. The excitement in his scarlet eyes sends a chill up your spin, but you can’t back down. 
He gets closer, matching your tone and you can still see the grin he’s trying to hide. It makes you see red. “Do what? Tell you the truth? You know I’m not wrong.”
“Yeah, you think you know everything, but you don’t. I’m dressed up because I want to be, not because of you.” You’re insisting at this point, frustration threatening to tip over and spill out into the form of another pointless argument. Why did you think you could actually come over and have a decent conversation with him?
Tomura is a master at getting under your skin and hitting where it hurts. In all of your arguments he’s never really pulled out the big shots but you wouldn’t put it past him to do so now. 
“Oh, so you come over to my place dressed like a slut and you expect me to believe you don’t have some hidden motive?”
And there it is.
Your last straw. He could be so egotistical and mean — you’ve had it. 
You regret it the moment you do it, but your body moves before your brain can process your actions. You push Tomura. Hard. 
He doesn’t fall back far but you know it’s enough to piss him off. And he’s never been one to hold anything back, so he shoves you back and your back hits the wall. 
Tomura has you pinned before you know it and there’s a thrill that runs through your body in a way you know you shouldn’t be feeling. Your knees feel weak for reasons that are not related to fear and your panties were gradually becoming more wet. 
His voice is low and his eyes are narrowed as he pins you against the wall, pressing your cheeks together with his other hand. “You’re really starting to piss me off.”
You have to bite back a smile, knowing this has taken a turn and you aren’t strong enough to stop where it’s going. Not that you would want to. 
“Oh yeah? If I piss you off so badly then why are you hard?”
He doesn’t look down. He can feel his own arousal just as well as you can while it’s pressed against your abdomen. 
Tomura pushes off of you — maintaining some distance as he turns away. 
“You’re fucking annoying.”
“Sure am.” You supply, chipper and certain as you trail behind him. 
He’s walking further into the apartment, and you follow. Legs moving on their own accord as you go further into the lion's den, exchanging quips and insults. You jab your finger into his shoulder, bothered by the way he continues to ignore you, it's a pathetic attempt at catching his attention and it works. Kind of. 
The only response being him slapping your hand away with a glare and muttering a soft fuck off as he walked on. 
You both went back and forth. Like the sun and moon, you just can’t stay away from each other.  
It was how these things usually went between you and Tomura. He would start up, make a petty argument and you would never back down. Tomura is someone who was used to getting his way and others simply did what he said with no objections. 
But that was not how you were.
And he loved it.
You knew by the way he would get that devious glimmer in his eye when you would challenge a point, starting up a debate. Sometimes they were heated enough to make you both break up. It never lasted more than a few days. A week being the longest.
Push and pull. 
Tomura made his way past you again, ignoring your calls about how you hate being ignored. At this point you’re sure he’s doing it on purpose to rile you up more but you can’t help but take the bait. You grab his shoulder, forcing him to turn around and face you as you point a finger in his face. 
“Stop walking away from me!” 
He grabs your wrist and pulls you closer, making you stumble on your feet and almost lose balance. You were so close you could feel the heat from his body and smell the fresh linen scent of his shirt. “Don’t tell me what to do.” 
You snatch your wrist away from him, tension between you two growing hotter by the second as the space between you got thinner. 
“What are you going to do about it?” 
The narrowing of his eyes only made your grin grow wider as you watched the gears turn in his head as he thought about just how many things he would do about it. All of it enticed you, so you beat him to the punch. 
You reach forward again, fully intending to shove his shoulder again for another reaction, another glare, maybe even more words, but he stops you. It was fast, the way you both tumbled through the hallway as Tomura crashed his lips to yours. The relief of finally feeling his lips again meshed with the excitement of how rough he was with you. 
You lose yourself in the kiss, welcoming him in with open arms as you vaguely register the dark walls of his room and posters plastered along the walls in your scuffle.
It was exciting, probably the best part of breaking up and making up. At this point you think the whole point of falling apart is coming back together again. An endless cycle where the reward is worth the punishment. 
Cat and mouse. 
You end up on top of him, straddling his hips while your smug smile beams down at him. Tomura gives you an unamused look in return, yet the way his hands rested on your thighs gave away the ill hidden interest. It was all the encouragement you needed as you leaned down, hovering above him with both hands on his chest. 
“Not so tough now, are you?”
It’s bait. You know it’s bait, he knows it’s bait, but he takes it anyway — the way you knew he would. 
Tomura wastes no time flipping the both of you over, quickly reversing your positions as he settled himself between your legs. It’s dangerous the way his actions riled you up further, and you have to bite your lip to keep the smile from betraying your false anger. You couldn’t let him know how excited you were to be back in his bed. 
He presses your cheeks together and rocks your head left to right, tone mocking and eyes wild with fever, “Oh, look who’s become a firecracker all of the sudden. Where did that flame come from, huh?”
You want to respond, but Tomura beats you to it, releasing your cheeks and pointing a nimble finger against your forehead, “Don’t be dumb.”
His eyes trail from yours and then down to your lips, then finally down to your exposed cleavage. The movement was swift as he cupped one of your breasts in his hand and dipped down, claiming your lips again. It was softer than the first time but not by much, especially not when he matched his pace by grinding his clothed erection into you, making you moan at the contact. 
Your skirt was so short and it made you feel even more exposed than you already were. Tomura had easy access to you and the thin fabric of your panties made everything feel so much closer. 
You moan at the contact, swiping your tongue against Tomura’s bottom lip and wasting no time deepening the kiss as you pull him closer. You needed more and you needed it as soon as possible. 
Tomura pulled the low cut front of your shirt down, easily exposing your breasts from the confines of the shirt and massaged them, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against your nipples and making you cry out from the sensitivity. 
He pulls away from you, eyes gazing into yours and you swore in that moment he put you in a trance. Tomura’s ruby red gaze always left you mesmerized and you can’t help the whimper that leaves your lips, brows furrowed and eyes wanting, “Please.”
“Please what?” And he’s not taunting you, he’s not mocking you. His eyes are soft as he brings a hand to your cheek. “Tell me what you want.”
“You.” Fuck, you’ve missed him. “I just want you.”
There’s a hint of a smile on his face as he strokes your cheek, soft look in his eyes making your heart flutter, and then it’s gone. Replaced by a hardened gaze as he moves to remove your shirt and bra, fully exposing you to his hungry eyes, and then moves to remove your short skirt. 
His hands hover there for a moment, debating whether or not he should keep it on and fuck you in it, but then decides against the idea and pulls it off, taking your soaked panties down with it as well. 
The air in the room feels cool against your skin as you shiver in anticipation. 
“Fuck,” Tomura whispers, now eye level with your cunt. You gasp as he runs two fingers between your wet folds and holds the digits up to show you. Syrupy clear slick clung to them, slowly trailing down as Tomura rose back up, eye level with you once more. 
“You’re so wet…” He murmured, bringing the digits to your mouth and you opened, taking them into your mouth and tasting yourself. You kept eye contact as you watched his eyes widen in delight — Tomura loved it when you put on a show for him.
There’s another moment of Tomura pressing against your tongue with his fingers and then he pulls them out, opting for a kiss in exchange, his tongue dipping into your mouth and groaning  as he could taste what’s left of your slick on you as well.
The pleasant feeling and linguid action of your movements made your shoulders relax as you practically melted into his soft bed, the feeling of his body above yours bringing you mountains of comfort. It was a distraction, of course. 
You felt the same two of Tomura’s fingers prod at your slick entrance before pressing in fully and all the way down to the knuckle. The stretch was intense but the pressure was euphoric, making you squeeze your eyes shut and grip him closer. 
He didn’t make you wait long as he pumped his fingers, quickly finding that sensitive spot so deep inside of you that only he could pinpoint and brushing against it over and over. 
The feeling was so good it made you pull away from the kiss to breathe, thighs twitching and toes curling in pleasure. You wouldn’t last long like this.
“Tomura, fuck..!” You moaned, drowning in ecstasy as he continued his abuse of your spot, never letting up or slowing down, aiming to make you cum as quickly as he could. It was obvious he wanted you to come undone as soon as possible by the way he watched your every expression. 
The way your brows furrowed to the way you bit your lip. Tomura eagerly drank every expression and gave it back to you in the form of pleasure. 
“What?” He started, unphased by your dilemma, “Gonna cum?”
It took a lot of focus and effort, but you nod — done with fighting for the night and accepting the fact that you will come apart quickly. So you give in to the pleasure. 
Tomura smiles, a devious grin splitting his features as he curls his fingers, hitting the spot one more time for good measure and you lose composure, your climax crashing into you like a tidal wave. There was nothing you could do besides ride the feeling while holding on to Tomura tight — like you would get swept away if you didn’t. 
He fucks you through it with his fingers, eyes never leaving your face as you come down from your high. 
“Pent up, huh?” He questions, and this time there is that little hint of teasing. It brings you back to reality. 
Yes, you have been pent up. You haven’t been able to get off to anything since you’ve broken up and it’s been hell. 
You have no time for the games, you just want him and you want him now. 
So, you take Tomura’s face in your hands, making him look you in the eyes. The flecks of black in his carmine eyes always makes you remember why you come back. Every single time. 
“Fuck me, please, Tomura.” It's soft and filled with desire that you cannot be bothered to hide, and Tomura has never been one to deny you.
He quickly discards his own clothes, making sure to not stay away from you for long. His cock is hard and leaking precum from the head as he strokes it in preparation. You feel giddy at the thought and watch as he slides the head of his cock between your folds, coating it with your slick, and rubbing against your clit. The action makes your hips twitch up towards him. 
He loves to tease and make you wait, but today he doesn’t make you wait long. Tomura leans down after lining himself up with your entrance and places his free hand behind your head, right above the nape of your neck. His hands were warm and the feeling of those hands cradling your head felt so comforting in the space of his familiar dark bedroom. 
You bring a hand to his hair, tangling your fingers in his ashen locks as he pushes forward. The stretch makes you whimper and Tomura captures your lips in a kiss again, swallowing the noises and releasing a groan of his own as your walls tighten around his cock. 
There's something about the way Tomura drags his hips, the way he starts off at a slow pace, winding you up as he steadily increases his speed and force. It happens so gradually that you don't realize you’re screaming his name until he tells you to shut up — threatening to cover your mouth because he didn't want his neighbors to hear how much of a slut you were.
It drove you mad the way he said it all with a smile and fucked you harder. Almost daring you to be louder so he can punish you with a hand over your mouth.
Tomura knew how rough you liked it and he always delivered, giving you back arching pleasure as he pounded into you. It leaves you gasping and struggling to keep your voice down. Your hands find the surface of his back, trying to hold on as much as you could with building pleasure on the horizon. 
“Tomu— Tomura..! Please,” you cry and he doesn’t miss a beat, driving his cock so deep against your sweet spot it makes you see stars. “Fuck..!” 
“Yeah, that’s it.” Tomura cooed, eyes filled with mischief as he brought you closer to the edge. “Cry for me.”
And you do, your body feeling euphoric as the feeling buzzed up your spine and filled your brain with the fuzz of ecstasy. 
“What are you gonna do, huh?” He starts, his hips grinding against you, the closeness of his pelvis rubs against your clit, making you cry out again, “What are you gonna do when I breed this pretty cunt and make sure you’re stuck with me forever?”
He’s bluffing, you know Tomura doesn’t want kids. He’s just trying to gauge your reaction. Your dedication. 
“Tomura…” You only moan, breath catching as he hits that spot inside you that he knows so well. 
Tomura is smiling, wild and devious, as you look up at him with glossy eyes, so close to crying from the feelings, “I’m gonna do it. I’ll make you mine forever and you can’t do anything about it.” 
“Ah!” You should stop him, tell him to calm down but he has your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your back arching off of the bed. Everything is blurring together and you can only slur words as the drool from your earlier kiss trails down your cheek. 
You are completely at his mercy like this and you know your friends would be beyond disappointed.  
It just feels so good the way his cock drags in and out of your body pulling moans and whines from your throat. He was relentless in the way he pounded into you — beyond the point of being soft and slow because he knows that’s exactly you like it. 
“Say you want it.” The command comes with the slowing of his hips and you whine, high and needy as Tomura slows to a near stop.
“Tomura, I—“
“Say you want it or I swear to god I’ll stop right now.” It’s a threat and you don’t want to find out if he’ll go through with it. Tomura never goes back on his word. 
“No, please, don’t— I want it!” you pant, frustrated and aching for more movement.
“I want you to,” you stammer, desperate to have your release. “I don’t care if you cum in me. I need you so bad.”
“That’s my girl,” He coos, dipping his head down onto your shoulder, “Fuck.. love you s’much”
You stop — you’ve never heard him say that. Ever. You doubted he would ever say it since it’s been so long. 
He doesn’t give you a chance to ruminate on it because he's picking up the pace again and giving you the friction you were so deeply in need of. The feelings are swimming in your head as your cries reach new heights. Tomura is too far gone to stop you or care and you’re thankful. You couldn’t stop yourself if you tried. 
The build of your orgasm crashes down and sends you with it, making your thighs quiver in pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut. Tomura’s mouth meets yours before you could cry out, the warmth of his tongue guiding you as he fucked you through it. 
He didn’t last long after, the way your walls tightened around him with the force of your orgasm has Tomura’s pace erratic as he chased his own high. 
The bed shook as Tomura finally finished, hips stuttered as he released inside of you, hot seed coating your insides and making heat rise to your cheeks. He really did it.
You watch as he slows to a stop above you, his eyes closed as he enjoys the feeling of release. Tomura’s breathing was heavy and you couldn’t stop yourself from bringing him down into another kiss, traveling from his lips to his cheeks and then back again. 
It was intimate and you were worried it may have been too much, given the reason you were both in this situation was because of a stupid breakup. 
Tomura’s pulls out of you, making you wince and taking the feeling of being so full away from you. He doesn’t go far, opting to stay on top of you and rest his head on your shoulder, wanting to keep you as close as possible. 
“You really piss me off.” He mumbles into your shoulder, out of breath and tired. “God, why can’t you just stay with me.”
“Tomura…” Your hands run through his hair, the sweat is making it stick to his forehead as you wait for him to keep talking. 
“Stop leaving me.” His voice is firm, unwavering.
“You told me to go.” 
“I didn’t think you fucking would. I would never actually want you to.”
“I can’t read between the lines Tomura, I’m not in your head.” You make him look at you this time, pulling his hair a little to get him to raise his head. “Did you mean it?”
“I just said I didn’t—“
“No, the other thing you said.” He gives you a look of pure confusion and you lose a little bit of hope, “when you said you loved me?” 
You stare into his carmine eyes, hoping, praying it wasn’t just pillow talk from the heat of the moment. 
He looks at you for a long time, frustration still wearing on his features. If you didn’t know any better you would say he was pouting. “Of course I meant it. I’ve always felt like that.”
“But you’ve never said it!”
“I show it!”
“How?” This is getting frustrating and going in circles. 
He groans, sitting up and taking his warmth with him. “I’m not going to sit here and list everything I’ve ever done for you. I don’t think it works like that.”
You open your mouth to counter, irritation on your tongue because that’s not what you meant, but Tomura stops you again. 
“I don’t know how to explain it, okay?” He shakes his head and sighs, laying next to you on the bed and looking up at his ceiling. “It’s weird. I have these strong feelings, but it’s not hate, it's not anger. It's the opposite of that.”
You stare at him as he focuses ahead, keeping his eyes trained on the uninteresting ceiling above.
“Father said it’s a weakness and I should feel that way but,” There’s a pause as he looks away from the ceiling, meeting your eyes finally, “if it’s so weak of me, then why are the feelings so strong?” 
Your heart aches. It's clear that he’s torn, and with the strange way he was raised you know that he can’t help the way he is. 
“Tomura…” 
“And it won’t go away. I can’t fight them down or push them away like I can with everything else. It eats me up and I… guess I lash out because of it.” He shakes his head and for the first time Tomura looks defeated. You’ve never seen him this way — he’s always been filled with confidence and self assured. “I just don’t know what to do.”
You bring a hand to his cheek as you press your forehead against his. It kills you that this is what’s been on his mind and you aren’t sure what you could do to fix it. Maybe there was nothing you could do, physically, but you would do your best to be there for him emotionally.
“Sometimes,” you try to be careful with your words, knowing how much Tomura looks up to his foster father even though the man has been nothing but strange to him. “People say things that aren’t true because they don’t know how to live with it.”
Tomura’s guardian cannot live with love nor the idea of it. 
“That doesn't mean you have to live that way.” 
And it’s the truth. 
Tomura doesn’t say anything, just watches you with heavy lidded eyes, ruby red nearly glowing in the low light of the room. He was so much more than what people thought they knew of him and you didn’t care if it took time for others to see that.
He leans in, closing his eyes and you meet him halfway into a kiss. 
It's warm and it's soft and you know that even when your phone is buzzing from dozens of missed calls and texts from your friends, it will be fine. 
You and Tomura would take things one day at a time.
2K notes · View notes
navybrat817 · 2 months
Text
Hold You Tight: Part 5
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Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.
Part 4 | Series Masterlist | Part 6
Chapter Summary: You talk to Addison, but may have dug a deeper hole for yourself. Bucky has a chat with you, too.
Chapter Word Count: Over 3.5k
Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, dubcon phone sex, dirty talk, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, reader is trying to stay calm, needy Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.
A/N: More Hold You Tight! Hope you lovelies enjoy and thank you again for the feedback so far! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. I no longer do taglists, so please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You woke up to the sound of your phone ringing. It never rang that early, minus the occasional call from the shop to see if you could go in early. With a groan, you opened your eyes halfway to glance at the device. You closed them when your vision cleared to read the name.
Bucky.
“Mmm. Too early for that,” you mumbled, rolling over to hug your pillow as the call went to voicemail.
He messaged you after you told him you had plans for the night, but you didn't read it. In fact, you hadn't glanced at your phone for the remainder of the evening after you got ready for bed. You only knew of the messages since your phone kept digging. You went through the rest of your normal routine and fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow. The date took a lot out of you.
Was it a good idea to ignore him though? This was a man used to getting what he wanted and for things to be done his way. There was a chance he wouldn't take you not responding to him well. Well, if he “cared” about you the way he claimed, he’d have to deal with it. Besides, it hadn't even been half a day since you spoke to him.
You bolted upright at the knock on the apartment door. “What the hell?” You whispered, pushing the covers back. Forcing yourself out of bed, you threw on your robe before you went to answer it. Your heart thudded as you looked through the peephole, half expecting to see Bucky on the other side. Your shoulders relaxed when you didn’t see anyone, but you only opened the door a crack.
A familiar scent filled your nostrils as you opened it more. It reminded you of the bakery you liked to visit once a week. Homey, warm, comforting. But your stomach turned when you spotted the bag since you hadn’t ordered anything.
Glancing down each side of the hall to make sure no one was there, you snatched up the bag and locked your door. Your lip wobbled when you looked inside and saw the note on top of the container. It matched the handwriting from the note in your bedroom.
“Most important meal of the day. Enjoy.”
You had half a mind to throw it out, but your grumbling stomach protested. It was your usual when you stopped into that bakery and for good reason since it was delicious. It should’ve been a nice gesture. It should’ve put a smile on your face. But how could it be when Bucky didn’t learn those things about you naturally?
The doorbell rang again as you got to the table, your heart jolting from the sound and the bag dropping to the surface. “Get a grip,” you whispered, going back to the door. Maybe Bucky could send you to a spa so you could try to relax. Not that you would ask him. He wasn’t your boyfriend.
Didn’t matter how rich he was.
You looked through the peephole again, smiling when you saw Addison on the other side. She bounced on the balls of her feet, her caffeine likely kicking in already. “Hey,” you greeted her when you opened the door.
“Hey yourself!” Addison smiled, pulling you in for a hug. She raised an eyebrow as she stepped back and took a good look at you. “How are you?”
“I’m great. Never better,” you tried to smile, stepping aside so she could go in. Guilt crept in from not being honest with a simple question. You weren't great at all. “Is everything okay?”
“Yep. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I just wasn’t expecting you to stop by so early, that’s all," you replied, double checking the lock on the door.
“I thought I’d swing by to check on you before I went to work. I didn't hear from you after I texted you and you’re usually really great about texting me back, so I wasn't sure if you were upset that we had to reschedule our plans or if something else was going on.” She paused when your face fell. You were so busy ignoring Bucky that you forgot to reply to her. “Maybe upset isn’t the right word, but bummed? I know we haven’t had much girl time lately outside of my wedding stuff.”
“I'm so sorry. I’m not upset. Last night just got away from me,” you assured her. “Bummed, I’ll give you that.” You added teasingly.
“Are you sure? I feel bad for bailing.”
“Please, don't,” you said. She had no reason to feel bad. “You get to go to The Terrace tonight, which is amazing. I don’t blame you at all for rescheduling.”
Brady was not only a nice guy and a hard worker, but he practically worshiped the ground Addison walked on. He would spoil her rotten if he could. He just wanted to make her happy and she wanted the same for him. It was the kind of relationship you admired.
Addison nudged you with a smile. “Have I told you how awesome you are? And right? I couldn’t believe it when Brady told me. It’s The Terrace!”
“You two will have a great time.” You said, leading her to the table so you didn't have to linger by the door. They deserved a nice night out. “Okay, I’m being nosy, but did he happen to say how he got the reservation? I mean, they’re usually pretty booked.”
“So, listen to this,” she began as she sat down. She had your full attention. “His new boss pulled him into his office yesterday and told him what a great job he’s been doing. Gave him a bonus and everything for all his hard work and said to celebrate by taking me out for dinner at a place of his choosing. He said ‘The Terrace’ thinking there’s no possible way, right?”
“Right,” You said, taking the food out of the bag and being careful to not let her see the note. “Do you want some?”
“No thanks. I ate before I left, but that looks amazing,” she said before she continued. “Two phone calls later, there was a table booked for us! I think he was a little embarrassed when he told me since someone else technically pulled some strings for him, but I don’t care. He works his ass off and it’s about time it was recognized.”
“I agree,” you said, replaying the words in your mind. “Wait, did you say new boss?”
“Yeah, just started a couple of weeks ago. Kind of surprised Brady since his old boss still had a year or so left, but he took early retirement. And the new boss takes his job pretty seriously, but seems like a good guy from what I’ve heard.”
You swallowed heavily. “What… What’s his name? The new boss?”
Addison’s brows furrowed as you picked at the food. “I think his name is Nick. Why?”
Your next breath was much easier. Bucky was making you paranoid in all aspects of life. “No reason. I just think that’s really nice of him,” you smiled.
Your friend didn’t look convinced for a moment. “You sounded and looked really weird when you asked.”
“Just hungry. You know how I get,” you said, forcing yourself to take a bite.
She raised an eyebrow before she shrugged. “At least you don’t get hangry like Dana,” she teased. “But yes! It was nice of him. It’s a great way to support employees.” Her eyes lit up before she smacked the table. “Ooh! I should ask if he’s single.”
“No, no, no. Don’t do that, please,” you begged. The last thing you needed to deal with was pulling an innocent man into whatever was going on with you and Bucky.
“Why not? We need to find you a man and he’s good looking. Or you know what? I think one of the groomsmen might also be single now. Maybe we could set you up with him?”
“No, Addison,” you said, trying not to let your emotions get the better of you when she had no idea what had transpired in your life over the last couple of days.
Your friend sank back in her chair, her previous excitement gone. “What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing,” you said, putting another bite of food into your mouth in the hopes that you’d keep more words from tumbling out. It wasn’t good to keep it bottled up, but a powerful man had threatened her. Your best friend.
“Oh, yeah? Then give me a good reason why I shouldn’t set you up with someone. Just one,” she challenged.
“Okay, fine.” Bucky’s face shimmered in your mind as you said, “It isn't set in stone, but I may have a date for the wedding. Maybe.”
You shifted in your seat, wishing you didn’t say that. It was the only thing that could possibly stop Addison from setting you up with someone else. Pulling anyone else into whatever game Bucky was playing wasn’t a smart move. Not until you could figure out how to get yourself out of this mess.
Addison's eyes went wide as she sat up and swatted at your arm. “Oh, my God! You’re asking about The Terrace when you buried the lead?! No wonder you’ve been off this morning! Tell me everything!”
“There isn't much to tell really, but…” Your heart sank as your friend literally moved to the edge of her seat, her eyes sparkling with curiosity and happiness. “He's handsome. Successful. Headstrong. Likes to read in his spare time. And for some reason, he really seems to like me.”
“Ahh! This is amazing. You're really growing out of your shell. I'm so proud of you.” Addison nearly knocked you out of your chair when she launched at you and hugged you tight. “And what do you mean he likes you ‘for some reason’? You’re a fucking goddess, okay? Say it. Say ‘I’m a fucking goddess’.”
“You’re a fucking goddess,” you joked, giggling when she hugged you tighter. “Okay, okay. I’m a fucking goddess. Let me breathe, please.”
“Yeah, you are.” She pulled back to take a seat again, a wide smile still on her face. “This is amazing news. I can’t wait to meet him.”
“Well, I'm sure everyone will love him,” you said. And you had no doubt they would. Something told you he would be the perfect charmer, telling everyone what they wanted to hear and showing them what they wanted to see. As well as being a doting boyfriend.
“If you like him then he must be great.”
“Yeah,” you said. You probably would’ve liked Bucky if things played out differently. “And you're sure he can go? I understand if he can't and I'm sure he would, too, since the wedding is just around the corner and it’s still so new.”
“Of course, he can go. Everyone is going to be thrilled.” She took one of your hands when you looked in your lap. You didn’t want to look up in case tears sprang to your eyes. “Hey. You’ve been the bridesmaid long enough. It’s about time you meet someone who finally makes you the bride.”
Tears filled your eyes anyway, but you blinked them away. If Bucky had his way, you’d be his bride soon enough. “Listen. Addison-”
“Shit, I gotta go before I’m late. I’m so sorry.” She grabbed her bag as she stood up and gave you one last hug. She was in such a hurry that she thankfully didn’t catch your misty gaze. It was better that way. “Text me, okay? We can talk more tomorrow.”
“Okay,” you nodded.
“And I won’t say anything to the rest of the girls until you do,” she promised, rushing to the door. “Seriously, so happy for you!”
“Thanks. I appreciate that,” you called after her. “Have fun tonight!”
“I will! Love you!”
The door shut, leaving you alone and in silence. You placed your head on the table with a groan. You were an idiot. No, that was cruel to think about yourself. You just felt cornered and reacted accordingly. And now you had to bring Bucky to the wedding, which was what he wanted.
What have I gotten myself into?
You lifted your head after a minute to finish your breakfast. As much as you wanted to lay about all day, you had to be productive. Plus you had to look at your phone eventually. You wondered how many more times Bucky messaged you. You also wondered if there were any stories or articles about him online.
Would snooping make things better or worse?
Making sure your front door was locked, you finally went to retrieve your phone. Stretching out on your bed, you picked up the phone and swiped until you got to Bucky’s messages. You scrolled through to the last one you sent, when you told him you had plans.
“You have plans? They really want to meet you.”
“I can still bring the dress over if you want. Just in case.”
“Already thinking about our second date. I want to make it special. I never want to stop wooing you.”
“Sweet dreams. Wish you were here so I could hold you.”
Your heart sank as you kept reading them, the words blurring together on the screen.
“Having a hard time sleeping since you haven’t answered me. I hope you're okay.”
“Maybe I should get you a new phone.”
“Ignoring me, Kotyonok? Playing hard to get?”
The last message came through a minute ago.
“Should I just come over and check on you?”
Your heart jumped to your throat as you typed out a message. What were the chances of him showing up if you didn’t respond? It was better not to risk it. You had ignored him enough. “Sorry, Bucky. I’m not glued to my phone and I crashed last night after our date. Thanks for sending breakfast over. That was a surprise.”
It wasn’t the end of the conversation, of course. “It’s okay. Just worries me when I don’t hear from you.” As if he had the right to worry about you when he caused you worry to begin with. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
You went to set your phone down, but saw more dots on the screen. “You sure I can’t see you tonight? The guys are really eager to meet you. I want you to meet them, too.”
Reading that made your stomach roll. Would they be like Ray? Complicit? “I told you I have plans. I’m sorry. Maybe another time.”
Another message popped up almost immediately. “Which one do you like better?”
Two images of Bucky appeared after the text. He stood with confidence in front of a sleek sink that you could only assume was in his bathroom. The pictures were nearly identical, minus the fact that the first image had him in a dark green jacket and the second had him in blue. But that wasn’t what made your next breath shaky.
He stared right into the mirror, the lens capturing his gaze so that it penetrated the screen. He seemed to be looking right at you. Unflinching. Unwavering.
Your fingers shook as you typed back to him. “The blue. It brings out your eyes.”
Your phone rang a second later. Now he was calling. You let it ring for a bit longer before you answered. “Hello?”
“Morning, Kotyonok.” He purred on the other end. “Hope I'm not bothering you. I just needed to hear your voice.”
“Morning.” When has a man ever called just to hear you speak? “Not sure why you need to hear it. I don’t think my voice is nice to listen to,” you said.
He chuckled. “You have a beautiful voice. I could listen to you talk all day.” Your cheeks flamed. He knew how to lay it on thick. “You’re right about the jacket. The blue is the better choice. And it’ll be a lot easier to get your opinion once we’re living together.”
You shut your eyes and counted to three. “So, you’re still convinced I’m going to live with you?”
“Before the end of the month. My promise to you.”
“We’ll see,” you said, blaming your lack of wit on your lack of caffeine.
There was some shuffling in the background that you could only make out since you went quiet. “Excited to meet my friends tonight?”
“I’m not meeting them tonight. I told you more than once that I have plans,” you reiterated. You weren't budging on that, even if all you’d do was curl up with a book. He didn't have to know.
He chuckled again, like he knew a secret you didn't. “That’s right. You did tell me that.” It was strange that he didn't ask what your plans were. “Are you ready for the day? Or are you still not dressed?”
Your eyes flickered around the room. He wasn’t there. He couldn’t see you. It was fine. “I still need to shower and get ready,” you said.
He hummed. “The shower here is nice. You’ll love the tub here, too. Has plenty of room for both of us.”
“Bucky-”
“It’s perfect for me to fuck you in it.” His voice was rougher and you thought you heard him incorrectly. “I dreamt about that last night. Bouncing you up and down on my cock as your cries filled the room, the water splashing around us. Sounded so fucking pretty.”
Your mouth fell open when you heard more shuffling. And moaning. A deep, hungry moan. “What are you…” Was he… Was he touching himself as he spoke to you? Jerking off? No. He couldn’t be. “Bucky, I’m-”
“I love hearing you say my name. Say it again, Kotyonok,” he rasped, his breathing heavier. So was yours. “Say it.”
You bit your tongue. You didn’t want to say it or hear any of this. It was filthy. Wrong. But you obeyed anyway. “Bucky,” you whispered.
The next sound he let out was something you could only describe as pornographic. “I’m so hard for you. And you’re wet for me, aren’t you? Fuck, I wish I was there to take care of you.” You rubbed your thighs together and ignored the heat in your body. It was a natural reaction. Fear. It had to be. “Talk to me. Let me hear that pretty voice.”
“I…” Your eyes squeezed shut, your chest lightly heaving. Dread gripped you and you didn’t know what to say. “I can’t.”
“Oh, I’ve imagined that, too. Telling me you can’t take my cock. That it’s too big. Too much.” He panted and something told you to keep listening instead of hanging up on him. “You’ll take it. You’ll take me. Like a good girl.”
You covered your mouth, afraid of whatever sound would come out as his heavy breathing persisted in your ear. You could almost imagine him pinning you down with his weight, taking you apart. Making you say his name. Spilling inside you as he said yours.
Bucky said he wasn't a monster. That he wouldn't hurt you. But what was he going to do to you?
“Fuck, you’ll look so gorgeous when I…” Bucky trailed off, all sounds of pleasure on his end coming to a halt. “For fuck’s sake, what?! What is so fucking important right now?!”
You pulled the phone away from your ear, your heart pounding. You thought you heard Ray in the background, but couldn’t be sure. “I-I should probably go,” you said, grateful for the interruption.
“I understand, Ray. Just give me a fucking second.” Bucky exhaled before he spoke again. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t want to go, but I have to.”
His tone was much gentler since it was directed back at you. “So do I. I need to shower,” you said. To wash off whatever just transpired even though he didn't touch you.
“Wish I was there to help clean you up and get you dirty all over again.” You heard the smile in his voice and fought the urge to get sick. “Have a good day, okay? We’ll finish this later. I promise.”
You tossed your phone away and sat up, your hands gripping the sheets as you inhaled and exhaled. Did that really just happen? One-sided phone sex or whatever the hell it was? The sounds of his moans rang in your ears. Thankfully the heat was no longer spreading through your body.
This wasn't your fault.
But you could’ve yelled for him to stop. You could’ve hung up. You didn’t do either of those things. Could've, would've, should've.
Where was your fire?
“It’s fine,” you whispered, biting your lip almost hard enough to draw blood. “I’m fine. This is all going to be fine.”
You refused to be anything other than fine. And he wasn’t at your place, so you were safe and sound, right? You had to be.
Lying to yourself didn't make you feel any better. It didn’t stop you from rushing to the toilet when you dry heaved. And it didn't stop you from wondering when he’d finish what he started over the phone.
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Bucky continues to leave an impression, doesn't he? And he's convinced you're going to see his friends, isn't he? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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mayaree-darling · 11 months
Text
who's to say what's real or fake// Genshin SAGAU
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from aree: impostor au but you actually are the impostor? but ofcourse theres a twist. I think i'll call this FakeGrace!Reader. This was just going to be a headcannon post but ended up a whole fic plot
warnings: themes that all come with the sagau tag (yandere, lots of religious talk, cult, etc.)
word count: 2k~
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You end up on Teyvat and immediately the characters recognize you as their Creator; of course you're their Creator - you have the same face, name, and voice. You go through the ordeal of getting to know all the characters all over again and they in turn love you as the god they’ve been waiting for all this time.
You decide that well, this is the world and characters I spent blood, sweat, and tears building (even if it was behind a screen) so might as well help out and do what needs to be done. The people come to you for their problems and you find that they're not as difficult as when you were simply a player. Maybe a minor dispute here and there between the NPCs, but now the vision holders and the Archons ask for your thoughts on how to go about political matters concerning their nations. Even Snezhnaya has signed a peace treaty with the other nations as a show of good faith to the Creator (even if you know for a fact its a temporary one).
All has never been better.
Until another Creator appears in Teyvat, and this one bleeds gold the way their stories foretold. In a way you do not.
The vision holders are torn. Yes, you are an impostor, and they want to hate you for tricking them, but at the same time haven’t you only shown them love? Haven’t you been patient with them and understanding despite being thrown into a world you’re unfamiliar with?
But with careful coercion from the other god, they have to choose to follow their true Creator. You decide to take pity on them and step down from your position yourself, choosing to live with the Aranara who have gladly taken you under their wing (fake god you may be, you are still a friend of the forest, and the forest always remembers its friends).
The Archons tell their new Creator that you are no more. They pretend to not hear when the Creator says they should have brought your head with them, maybe just a bitter reaction for finding out that they have been serving an impostor all this time (the Archons are lying when they say they do not feel sickened at the idea of hurting you, and disgusted at this new God's words)
It soon becomes clear to the people of Teyvat that this new Creator is not you - none of the patience or kindness you had showed them. This new one thinks helping their people is below them, even laughs at some of their problems. They chuck their duties as a god to the vision holders and spend their days leisurely, wining and dining on the best food, expecting to be waited on hand and foot. And at first it was fine, the characters understood. Maybe their Creator was just enjoying the fruits of their labor for once (although in the back of their mind, they can't help but compare you - you who worked tirelessly to attend to everyone even when they’d almost beg you to take a break). The characters tell themselves that they just need to get used to this new god, their true Creator. It will all right itself in time. Even as the Creator acted more like a child by the day, calling for the punishment of characters for the simplest of things. It’s fine. It’s fine.
It didn't take long for their will to break.
The God of Wisdom is called as such for a reason. Nahida may be younger compared to the rest, but she is braver than most. She simply tried to impart a fraction of her wisdom, softly suggesting to the Creator to show mercy for their people who were gravely punished for things they did not do.
This Creator was not you. They did not have a drop of patience that you had, nor any love for their creations. Their god saw this as nothing but an act of treason. How dare a mere Archon tell them what to do? She dares to question who the Creator can and cannot punish?
The silence is deafening in the throne room as the Creator calls for the death of Lesser Lord Kusanali and the destruction of Sumeru. If it is mercy she asks for then it is the last thing she and her people will receive. The other Archons agree past gritted teeth, the sin of Khaenri’ah weighing heavy over their shoulders still.
Nahida had been banished to Sumeru before the order was given, so the Archons make their way to the Nation of Wisdom to tell her of her sentencing, hoping to beg her to ask the Creator for their forgiveness.
This can't be how it ends. Are they to spend their lives in fear of the god they so revered?
They enter a forest emitting divine energy in search of their friend, hearts heavy, but they found something else.
They found you. They found the Creator they loved once upon a time.
They seemed to have caught you mid-conversation with Nahida, and to their surprise (and resentment) the Tsaritsa; they can only assume that the god of Snezhnaya has informed you first of Nahida's fate. The Wanderer catches sight of them and stands in front of you in protection. You don't even bat an eye. You swallow hard and stand, Nahida's hand enveloped in yours, and the other gods would be lying if they say they did not feel jealousy strangling their lungs.
With a steady voice, you tell them that should they take one step against Nahida, you will meet them halfway. If they decide to send Sumeru to hell, they will have to go through you first. You will do everything you can to stop them, and if Sumeru falls then you fall with them.
They don't have to look at the others to make up their mind. There's a beat of silence but first it's Morax, and Beelzebul and Barbatos and then Focalor, and they are on their knees, heads bowed low.
It is only right to show respect to their god, after all. How could they be so blind?
Validation of their actions comes soon after as you let go of Nahida's hand and tell the Wanderer to stand aside. You do something that tyrant of a Creator that sits on a glass throne would never - you kneel before them and hold out your hand.
"Why are you all kneeling? Stand up. I am no longer your god. But I hope you will have me as a friend. Will that be alright?"
There are tears in their eyes as they let out stuttering laughter. Yes, this is their god. Their god with so much love and compassion and a heart that does nothing but bleed for them. A heart that does not ask for them to bleed.
You are their god. You are their true Creator. Golden blood be damned. All that gold has done nothing but blind them.
Eventually, you all end up on the forest floor. You accept the role of a friend as promised, and catch up with them. The Archons are almost in tears as you listen to their stories earnestly, squeezing their hands in sympathy as you listen to the pain they've been through under the rule of their so called Creator (they really should find a new title for you, the god that sits on your throne has sullied your rightful name). At one point they stop telling you stories of their mistreatment, unable to see your face be any sadder than it already was. They take to retelling your stories together, reminiscing better days - because is that not what they have done all this time? Think about the lovely you for every wrongdoing the other god had done in your name?
As you laugh and smile with them and their stories and their company, the idea burrows through their mind without your knowledge, taking root, and they refuse to let it go. Wouldn't it be so much better if it was always like this? Seeing your smiling face with them, a person that deserves to be called a god even more so than all of them combined. Knowing you were safe from harm, not having to defend yourself, especially from them under orders from a tyrant. Knowing you loved them the way they loved you.
It was all better with you.
When you weren't looking, the Archons gave each other knowing looks and curt nods in understanding.
You are their beloved Creator.
As a peaceful silence falls over you, they watch as you smile sadly, their hearts breaking to see such an expression on your face. In a soft voice, you apologize for not being able to do much to help them. When you lift your head, golden resolute eyes meet yours.
"You’ve done enough, Your Grace. Let us handle the rest."
You may have laughed at the old title, but the Archons are hell bent in returning it to you. Although it hurts them to say goodbye, they know it’s only for the moment. Soon, you will be with them. Back in your rightful throne, as you have always deserved.
Nahida is the youngest, and so they decide to spare her the carnage. The rest know she is no fool, they don't need to tell her what they had planned for her to know what happens next. She does not fully agree in the others' decision, yet she stays in Sumeru, promising to make sure you do not find out. Word travels fast to the other vision holders in the form of a breeze from Barbatos. Barely anyone had disagreed with the notion of removing the rejected god from the throne, and those who were hesitant at first changed their mind after hearing how you were ready to go down with Sumeru. Morax and the Tsaritsa lead the rebellion.
A god is only as powerful as the people who worship them. By the time the Archons arrived in the throne room, the Creator had no one to hide behind.
They made it a spectacle. They spin a tale for the people that the god they so worshiped was an impostor who had switched bodies with their rightful god, which explains the gold blood that should be yours. They say you were patiently waiting for them all to come back to you, to remove this impostor from your throne. You were ready to accept them all, they just needed to get rid of this filth that dared destroy your name. The Creator - no, the Impostor - is horrified when the people accept this story so easily, but they only have themselves to blame. Who cares what they have to say to defend themselves, although it’s not like they can anyway - how can they when their tongue was cut off?
Teyvat was silent as gold painted the streets of Liyue Harbor. Teyvat no longer cares for golden blood, not after all the blood and tears it had taken from its people. After all, a golden soul stands ready to take back their rightful place.
Your followers thought it had all been worth it - the pain, the hardships, the blood - to see you smile the first time you set foot outside Sumeru after what felt like years to them. And yet, despite the joyous occasion, you hesitantly turn to them and ask a question not even Irminsul would answer you.
"What happened to the Creator?"
You would be lying if you said the soft smiles each of them gave did not unnerve you as they all said the same thing, like a joke everyone knew all except you.
"We simply removed the Impostor from Your Grace's presence."
They are thankful that you are blinded by your love for them to see the gold shine on their hands. You do not ask about the shimmering streets either. Liyue was the city of gold after all, was it not?
For now, their biggest concern is your acceptance that they are your equal, but that can easily be fixed. You are their friend now, but someday you’ll be their god again. Slowly but surely. They will sit you back in your throne. They will kneel before you again. They will give you the reverence you so deserved.
It will all be yours.
You're their wonderful Creator, after all. Maybe not to you right now. But you always have been for them.
They’ll start from calling you Your Grace. You’d be too kind to tell them off over and over.
You always had been good at adapting.
You had gotten used to it then, you’ll get used to it again.
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✨ Masterlist ✨ 
Taglist: 💛@anime-allover  💛@faeriessky  💛 @prksolon 💛 @dai-tsukki-desu
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.
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tiredmamaissy · 9 months
Text
Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Special Episode IV
Seed of Life
This is @zestys-stuff 's OC. All credits to this character goes to this beautiful, talented artist. Thank you again for allowing me to explore and create with him!
Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info
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🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞
Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)
Warnings: nsfw, fluff, angst, early pregnancy smut (will be forewarned before it happens), daddy daughter drama, Ralak being little rough because reader won’t stop teasing him, Ralak literally has blue balls, ball play, blowjob, brief thigh fucking, likely incorrect na’vi, teacher/student dynamics/roleplay, p in v, quickie, squirting, masturbation, dirty talk, sexual tension, age gap 
Disclaimer: This chapter entails pregnancy and sexual intimacy during early pregnancy. I include a warning directly before the smut happens in the case that you want to indulge in this chapter but aren’t necessarily up for the pregnancy smut. 
Word Count: 10k sorry
Requested: Yes || No
Author’s Note: thank you guys for always being so patient with me. i love yall too the moon and back <3 happy holidays and a happy new year! also, I’ve realised that I unintentionally decided that Kiri is not involved in this series (i dunno honestly, it’s just occuring to me that I’ve never really mentioned her before and it feels difficult to incorporate her at this point i suppose). It seems like we (reader) have taken her place in this au in regards to being jakes adopted ‘babygirl’ (nothing else though—no superpowers or anything loool).  
Synopsis: After telling Ralak that he's going to be a father, the reality dawns on you that you need to break the news to your own father.
<- Previous -> Next
This pregnancy shouldn’t be much of a surprise to you, honestly. How could you not be? After such a breeding it would be a miracle if you weren’t pregnant. Yet the news wasn’t quite sinking in, even when Tsireya looked at you with wide eyes and spelled it out for you. But now that you’re walking towards the tsahìk, you’re faced with reality and it begins to sink in as you count each step you take. 
Forty-two…  
The words that rolled off the tarsem’s tongue echo in your skull.  
Forty-three…  
Etching themselves into the bone, leaving you with no space to deny the truth. 
Forty-four… 
“You are with child.” 
The ringing in your ears stops as your vision refocuses on the stone cold expression of the Tsahìk. Her voice is unfaltering and clear as it delivers the news to your ears a second time. Bowing to the taller woman, you sweep three fingers away from your forehead and turn your heel to walk away. But before you can take two steps she announces something that makes your ears stand tall.  
“A boy.”  
Her two harshly spoken words strike through your chest, a sinking feeling now brewing in the pit of your stomach. You stop dead in your tracks and lift your head that was once tilted down to your feet. Things become even more real, having you force down a wad of your spit to keep your vision from splitting again. You’re barely able to use your voice—your mouth partially open and your tongue rolling from the churn of your tummy.  
“Thank you, Ronal.” You manage to squeak a decibel or two over a whisper, dropping your head again to lock your stare to your feet before fleeing the now-crowding scene. You overhear the people murmuring the news as you scurry away to your marui pod.  
‘The forest girl expects the firstborn of the village’s best warrior’;  
‘She won’t make it out alive!’; 
‘Did you hear? She will birth the first of a new kind. A kind with demon blood’.  
If your legs could go any quicker, they would.  
A child grows in your womb now. A child for the man you love—Ralak. The man who deserves it most. You’re scared and excited all at once. Proud to bear a son for such a notable and fearsome man. But afraid of how your family will take to the news.  
This was your first month of being a mated pair, and you’ve already succumbed to your most primordial instinct to mate. And with what everyone is already whispering, you’re scared of much more than that. Is what they say true? Is this a risky thing? Will he be teased for being different? Will he be rejected from the clan?  
Does Ralak… even want this?  
You both hadn’t even sat down and spoken about the possible consequences of such a cosmic event—your synced cycles. What if he hadn’t meant all the things he said? Or if he really just couldn’t prevent the things that he did during his rut? How would he react if that were the case?  
Your mind is running at a hundred clicks an hour and your nerves are wringing your stomach that it takes the hot sand spilling through the cracks of your toes to make you realise that you’re already home.  
And there he is, in all his glory.  
Doing nothing other than sharpening his damn spear. Sitting on his knees, leaned back with his flexed abs and gathered brows, concentrating on his task—blissfully unaware of the gossip spreading throughout the clan. The sight brings serenity to the white noise in your head, leaving nothing but the crash of the waves and the splash of the ilus off in the distance. I  
Ralak’s ears twitch as he senses your presence, but he remains focused on the stroke of his whetstone against the blade. He can feel your apprehension from where he sits, and he can already tell what you’re here for. Yet he chooses to keep his appearance no less than stoic, but not enough to be intimidating.  
“Tanhì.” He hums low enough that you strain to hear him.  
“I need to speak with you.” You utter, wetting your dry lips with a quick swipe of your tongue. You stand there fidgeting with your fingers as you await a reply from your husband. It’s almost mortifying how silent this man can actually be. You see the slight tilt of his head and his ear perk up to listen closely. Taking this as your cue to speak, you try to find the words to say.  
How do I say this?  
Ralak is a simple man, perhaps it’s better to give it to him straight. An easy, ‘I carry your unborn son’, would do, right? You begin to gnaw on the dry skin on your bottom lip as you think. But his silence is really getting to you today. How can he sit there so… unbothered? Not even a glance thrown your way or an eyelash batted. Maybe you should just spit it out — ‘you got me pregnant’.  
“Hm?” He lets out a muffled grunt, swiping the whetstone against the spearhead. It sounds innocent. Like he’s just immersed in a task and couldn’t quite bring himself to completely stop. 
“We no longer need to prepare for my heat.” You blurt out, not even knowing where the words came from. You witness his spine straighten and him quickly stilling his movements.  
Little did you know his heart gallops at the speed of a direhorse, thumping wildly between his ribs as he prepares himself to finally hear you utter the words. Oh, how he had been waiting for your sweet voice to sing the news. But he realises that you seem to need an extra push to say them.  
“And why is that?” Ralak husks, still unmoving.  
You wait for him to turn around. To look your way. Something.  
But… nothing.  
“I’m pregnant.” 
Ralaks heart skips a beat and his breath catches in his throat. A grin spreads from ear to ear, so strong and wide that if you were really paying attention you would have caught the way his ears stand at full height.  
But you were too busy fighting the bubble of the blood in your thumping heart, trying to keep your frustration to a minimum. You had expected more. For him to turn around, at the very least. All you could hear was the da-dump and the silence between you two. Until you couldn’t take it anymore. 
Perhaps it’s all the hushed chatter from earlier or maybe it’s just the new surge of hormones and out-of-whack pheromones but you can’t help the burn of your eyes as they fill with tears.  
“So w-what? Not even a glance my way? You knock me up and have nothing to s-say for it?”  You choke back your heated tears of frustration, Ralak now huffing a vehement sigh. “You’re not even surprised, or—” Your blubbering is cut short by your husband's quick movement.  
Ralak instantaneously brings himself to his feet and storms over to you, towering over your petite frame. Now he’s peering down at you, dark, smouldering eyes holding the most intimidating gaze with you as he closes the distance between your bodies. He’s still damp from seeing to the ilus this morning that when your chest touches his cold, bare stomach, it hardens your nipples into stiff peaks.   
“Surprised?” He rasps, his large hand flying to your lower stomach, gently pressing into it. Heaving shoulders slowing as he steadies his breathing, Ralak lowers his head to brush his lips against the shell of your ear— 
“Do you not think I had every intention of putting this baby inside of you?” 
Hearing this spoken in such an assertive tone sends shivers up your spine—Ralak knows exactly how to handle you and your… sensitivity. He always has. Your tail sways uncontrollably behind you, earning a well concealed smirk from the giant before you. It’s always been one of his favourite parts of you, but now—oh, now he has a new favourite part of you.  
Your soon-to-be swelling belly.  
“I have known.” He admits through a whisper, smoothing his entire palm over your budding womb, planting a quick kiss on your temple. “Your scent… it has changed, tanhì.”  
“What?” You whisper, almost pulling away from his tender touches to look at him. “And you didn’t say anything?”  
“I wanted to hear you say it. I have been waiting… to hear you say it.” He’s the one to pull away this time, looking you deeply in the eyes. His free hand raises, using his thumb to wipe away a tear seeping from the corner of your eye. “Please. Do not cry.”  
You don’t even know what to say. Yet again, Ralak leaves you speechless—with trembling lips and a swelling throat.  
“And you are actually eating the payoang niktsyey [fish wraps] I cook.”  
“What?” You snort, letting loose a sudden, nasally giggle. You drop your smile and try to fix a serious expression on your face. “What do you mean? I always eat your payoang niktsyey [fish wraps]”  
Ralak laughs, his three fingers tucking hair behind your ear, “I see you throw them to the ilus, tanhì. I am no fool.”  
You laugh again, snotty-nosed and teary-eyed, sniffling when the uncontrollable giggling fit ends. “It seems that our son enjoys your cooking, ‘lak.” You bubbler with a wobbly smile, blinking harshly to clear your vision.  
Ralaks eyes bulge as they frantically search yours—a beaming smile spreading across his lips, his pointed teeth on full display. “Son?” He exhales softly, his left brow bone jumping ever so slightly.  
All you can do is nod, letting your wobbly smile morph into a grin. The tears come back like they never left, twice as much and even hotter than before. You swear you see Ralaks eyes gloss over too, glistering in the sunlight.  
Ralak sinks to his knees, coming face to face with your soft tummy. 
“My prrnen [baby]. My ‘evengan [son; boy child]. It is your sempu [daddy].” He whispers, heated lips slightly pressed against your silken skin. Chin tucked to your chest, you watch in awe, straining to listen to his hushed whispers. “I have wanted you for so long.”  
Hearing that—oh, how hearing that makes you feel. You feel warm inside, your heart so full all your earlier fears melt away. Ralak looks up at you, azure blue eyes filled with nothing but love and adoration—gratitude and admiration.  
“My sweet tanhì. You have made me the man I have always wanted to be.” He croons at you, planting a long, soft kiss on your stomach—eyes still locked with yours. “And I thank you for that. Nìt’iluke [forever; never-endingly]”  
And just like that, the butterflies you felt when you first laid eyes on this man come rushing in, flapping their wings at full force.  
“I am your mate.” You sputter out a little, tiny sob. “It’s what I-I am supposed to do.”  
Ralak stands up, holding eye contact with you the entire way.  
“You owe me nothing. It is an honour that you carry my unborn, y/n.” His hand leaves your stomach to grasp your hand, intertwining his thickset fingers with yours. “You will be a nawm [great] mother.” 
“And you will be the best father.” You choke back your sobs, struggling to get your words out. A comfortable silence passes, where you both immerse yourselves into one another’s touch. Until Ralak witnesses your expression morph into something of worry.  
“What is it?” He asks in a hushed voice, keeping his tone calm and cool.  
“Speaking of… fathers.” The column of your throat undulates when you gulp hard, “How will I tell mine?” 
Ralak swallows, too. The thought had crossed his mind a few times over the past week. He saw the answer as simple – tell him. Ralak holds a lot of respect for your father, looking up at him as a superior given his status and skill as a warrior. And although he’s slightly intimidated by your father, Ralak sees this respect as mutual—therefore, it should be returned. Surely, this will go smoothly if you both remain polite.  
Right?  
“We tell him. Together.” Ralak grasps your hand once more, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze, his heavy accent shining through now that he’s high on emotions, “I keep you safe. Both of you.”   
—— 
Both you and Ralak make your way down the shore towards the webbing of overlapping mangrove roots. Though you insisted on breaking the news to your family by yourself, he was adamant that he accompanies you. You couldn’t bear the thought of your father lashing out on Ralak, especially in front of the others. You tried to explain that to him, but he simply shook his head and tightened the clasp of his saya (knife sheath) on his hip.   
You make the trek by foot, wanting a little more time to think about what you were going to say, and he ensured to stay right behind you. Quite literally—looming behind you like some sort of bodyguard. Every na’vi you pass are quick to avert their gaze elsewhere when they see the giant you have as a shadow. They tried not to look to begin with, but it was a rare sight to see you two so close together among the clan.  
Their hushed whispers are kept to an absolute minimum but Ralak hears them nonetheless. It doesn’t bother him. Not anymore, at least. It used to bother him before he had met you—hearing the chatter of the gossip about his voluntary six year celibacy despite being the chief’s right hand man. And now that the murmurs entail nothing but his relationship with you, he could care less.  
But then he hears the indistinct mumble about the babe budding in your womb. It’s something along the lines of ‘it being some demon hybrid’. The comment alone has Ralak screeching to a halt, his head snapping in the direction of a stocky, young warrior in training. One that Tonowari had relentlessly urged Ralak to teach until he begrudgingly gave him a couple combat lessons.  
Ralak’s eyes narrow and sharpen, snapping down to shoot a threatening leer down at him. That's all it took for the stumpy na’vi to drop his head in shame and scurry away with his younger companions.  
Sensing that Ralak is no longer on your tail, you turn around, half-expecting him to be five steps behind. Instead, he’s right where you left him, with a reassuring smile and an extended hand gesturing you to ‘continue’. You return a light hearted smile and spin around, taking another step towards your family marui.  
—— 
“To what do we owe the visit?” Neteyam smiles as he greets you at the marui door, arms splayed out for a hug. You smile and slump into your brother, allowing him to envelope you in a warm embrace. “We haven’t seen you in what feels like weeks, sis.”  
“Because we haven’t.” Lo’ak adds, lurking behind his bigger brother, arms crossed over his chest with a grin on his face.  
“Hey Lo’.” You say in a low voice, smiling at him as you let go of your big brother. Ralak silently stands at the marui door, head awkwardly tilted in an attempt to fit himself in such a tight space. 
“Hey, sissy.” Lo’ak throws an arm around your neck, patting your shoulder a few times as he walks you further inside and away from Ralak. “What’s up with the shadow?” He doesn’t even try to quieten his voice as he nudges his chin in your husband's direction.  
You force a little laugh, unwrapping his arm from around your neck so you can inch away back to your ‘shadow’. You back up until you bump into his solid build, making a muffled thump when you collide. He steadies you by the shoulders, lidded eyes flicking down to check that you’re okay. He can sense your nervousness. 
“I–we… have something to tell you guys.” You begin, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Where’s everyone else?”  
Lo’ak’s eyes squint, brows furrowing as the gears in his brain grind twice as fast to figure out what you could possibly be calling a family meeting for. “No fucking way. Already?” He blurts out when he finally puts two and two together. Your eyes widen when they dart over to him, catching sight of the shit eating grin plastered to his face.   
Fuck, is this skxawng going to spoil it for me? You think to yourself, apparently loud enough for Ralak to hear. He squeezes your shoulders before sliding his hands down the full length of your arms and letting go. “Mawey [calm].” He breathes, his head still hanging low. You look behind you, tilting your head up to meet his comforting gaze.  
“Hey, babygirl.” Jake’s voice snaps your attention back down, having you look your father in the eye. His smile is as wide as his arms as he approaches you for a hug.  
“Dad. Hey.” You whisper, returning the hug and snuggling into his chest. You bask in the moment, lingering onto how things are now—before you drop the bomb on him.  
“I missed ya.” Jake chuckles, rubbing your back. He finally lifts his head and sees your ‘shadow’ hovering a little closer than needed. “Jeez, let her breathe, boy. She’s just huggin’ her old man.” Ralak keeps his head hung and takes a small but noticeable step back. Jake gives you a quick peck on the head as he begins to pull away. “What have ya’ been up—”  
Jake cuts himself short, leaning back in to smell your hair. His eyebrows gather when he recognizes the familiar scent. Neytiri has smelled similarly a few times before. Jake grinds his teeth, scrunched brows and narrow eyes giving away his current state of mind. His hands slide down your arms, gripping then as he looks you dead in the eye. “Y/n. You got somethin’ to tell me?” 
“Dad–” You swallow down the knot in your throat, already getting choked up.  
Jake's lips purse into a thin line as his death-stare immediately averts to Ralak. And for what feels like an eternity, nothing but silence fills the room. The tension in the air is almost suffocating. Jakes eyeing Ralak down whilst Ralaks stare is locked on the way he’s holding you.  
You glance over at your brothers. One’s obviously got it figured out, arms crossed, shaking his head with a smug look on his face. And one is completely clueless—poor thing. You look back at your father who is now seething, leer averted back to you as he exerts all his energy into being patient.  
“What’s going on? Guys?” Neteyam breaks the silence with a worried tone to his voice. His eyes bounce from person to person, until they land on his brother.  
“He knocked her up.” Lo’aks whispers harshly, not even trying to be discreet. Neteyams brows raise and now he is, too, staring at you. You feel all the blood drain from your face and suddenly you’re extremely light in the head.   
Mortified is an understatement.  
Everyone is clearly waiting for you to confirm it. But you’re having such a difficult time saying the two silly little words. The pressure is on now, you could even see Ralak straining to hold his tongue. You finally muster up a cowardly nod, and immediately your fathers grip intensifies, squeezing your arms firm and tight. He’s looking down at you with eyes of disbelief and somewhat disappointment, frantically searching yours to see if this is really the truth. You let loose a low hiss, wincing when you feel the pinch of his grip.  
Not even another second passes when you hear the slap of your husband’s large hands grabbing ahold of your father’s wrists.  
“She is pregnant.”  
A deep, but low growl rips from Ralaks chest. In other words, ‘never lay your hands on a pregnant woman’. Ralak dwarfs Jake as he inches in a little closer, grasping his wrists just firm enough to send this message.  
“Yeah. Got it, bud.” Jake returns a growl through his teeth and tightened lips. He shifts his position slightly, eyes flicking down to acknowledge what his son in law is trying to get across. Nonetheless, Jake stands his ground. “Get your hands off me.”  
Ralak tries to regain his composure, but his protective instincts have just about gone haywire. The urge to protect has never been so intense before. It’s like his soul knows that there’s just more to protect.  
More at stake. 
Ralak looks down at your fathers hands once more, silently making his point clear. He holds eye contact with Toruk makto whilst he remains unmoving.  
“Lak…” You squeak a warning to your husband, who only flutters his jaw as a response. Lo’ak and Neteyam are on edge, both concerned that their father has a grip on you, but even more so that Ralak has a grip on their father. They watch intently, trying to decipher if and when they need to intervene.  
To everyone’s surprise, Jake exhales harshly through his nose and gently pulls away from you, but wrenches his wrists away from Ralak’s grasp. “Sorry, kid.” Jake spits an apology, readjusting his position to be directly in front of Ralak. “Care to explain how this happened so damn quick?” 
“Dad!” You shout in disbelief, wedging yourself back in between the two.  
“You know what? Don’t even answer that.” Jake snaps.   
“You know you are really no one to talk! Where’s mom? Mom!” You go on the tips of your toes, leaning from side to side to look for her behind both the two male na’vi.  
“‘xcuse me?” Jake purposely blocks your view by bobbing his head wherever yours goes. “I am still your father and you will not speak to me that—” Jake steps to the left to avoid Ralak and walk towards you. Ralak quickly adjusts himself to be the wall between you and your father, not allowing Jake the chance to even finish his sentence. Ralak is now looking down at Jake with a stoic expression, trying his best not to come off intimidating or challenging in any way.  
All to no avail.  
“You got a problem with me, boy?” Jake grumbles through his clenched jaw, getting in Ralaks face now.  
“No. Only keeping my word, sir.” Ralak simply responds.  
Jakes brought back to the very moment he made Ralak give him his word. His word that he’d never let a thing happen to his baby girl. The night you completed your iknimaya. The night he granted Ralak the permission to mate with you.  
The night Ralak took your virginity. 
Jake stalls for a few seconds, taken aback by Ralaks behaviour but a little impressed at the same time. Jake's expression softens upon realizing that Ralak is just protecting his mate—just as he does Neytiri, especially during her pregnancies.  
But there’s no way in hell that Jake will be the first one to back down here.  
“Mom!” You call for her once more, hoping that she’ll swoop in and save the day.  
Neytiri rushes in, hand on her hip where she keeps her dagger sheathed—worry and concern etched into her features. She analyses the situation, taking in the scene of her own mate standing face to face with yours. She glances over at you, seeing the panic in your eyes and the hand on your stomach that you didn’t even know you had placed there. Slowly walking up to the two male na’vi, she places a firm hand on her mates chest, pushing him away from Ralak. “Ma’ Jake. What is happening here?”  
Jake’s pressing his lips firmly together, not wanting to say the words. He shakes his head a little, huffing through his nostrils before placing a hand on his hip. His other hand extends in your direction, as if he were pointing out the obvious. Yet he remains choked up and speechless, his hand falling to his thigh as he gives up.  
Finally, he mumbles, “Go on. Tell her.”  
Neytiri looks back at you, eyes trailing back down to your hand that’s mindlessly resting on your stomach as she awaits for your answer. You feel the burn of her eyes, yanking away your hand when it becomes too much. Being the daughter of Mo’at, a tsahik, Neytiri needed nothing more than a quick glance and sniff to know what’s going on. “Is this true?”  
“Yes, mom. It is true. I am.” You say in a defeated tone of voice. Ralak shifts himself, settling close beside you now rather than in front of you. He always had an even greater respect for your mother.  
Neytiri’s expression only grows softer, until there's no trace of concern left in her face. Her smile is downturned but her eyes are bright, glistening with joy as she pulls you in for a warm embrace.  
“It is a blessing from Eywa, my child.”  
She pulls away from you, now looking over to Ralak. Neytiri lays a gentle hand on Ralaks upper bicep, “Seykxel sì nitram [congratulations] .” Ralak signs ‘I see you’ to his mother in law, exchanging a light hearted smile with her.  
It was no secret that Neytiri longed to be a grandmother. Her days of children are over now, although she was expecting her eldest, Neteyam, to give her a grandchild first. But Ralak — Ralak is a remarkable, mighty warrior and hunter. The olo’eyktans right hand man, and undoubtedly the best fisherman in the village.  
In fact, Ralak was one of the first people Neytiri took a liking to after she adjusted to the way of water. She always felt that he was a good suitor for her daughter.  
“Are you kiddin’ me? It’s barely been two months!” Jake scoffs, shaking his head.  
“And a day for us, Jake.” Neytiri tries her best to keep a calm, but firm voice. “They are a mated pair, they are having a family now. It is Eywa’s will.”  
Jake quiets himself, reflecting on his harsh ways. He sighs, loudly. His eyes finally glance down to what everyone in the room has been looking at, now staring at your protective hand that mindlessly lay over your womb once again. He grits his teeth, averting his stare to the ground, eyeing the charred wood of the fire pit. His tongue clicks as he parts his lips, muttering— 
“I know… I know, alright? She’s just—” He looks up at Neytiri, then Ralak, and then you. “She’s my babygirl.”  
It’s his way of saying, ‘I just want to protect my family.’ 
“Dad. I am but—but I’m not your baby anymore. I’m not a kid.” You croak, finding it hard to hold eye contact with him. “Your grandson is the new baby of this family.”  
Jake tries to fight the way his eyebrows scrunch together, it was like hearing about the news of his firstborn son all over again. He exhales slowly, nodding his head and extending his arms to hold you. His warmth envelopes you completely, leaving no room for any cold or harsh thoughts and feelings to linger.  
“You keep ‘em safe.” Jake's chin presses into the crown of your head as he mutters the words to Ralak. Ralak had always had a hard time understanding Jake's native slang, but this he understood— loud and clear.  
“Always.” Ralak answers firmly.  
Your safety has been, is and will always be his number one priority.  
Jake nods once, squeezing you a little tighter before letting go fully. “Seykxel sì nitram [congratulations], you two.” 
“Thank you, dad.” You smile whilst Ralak bows his head. Neteyam and Lo’ak finally come over for their hugs, making a comment of their own as they release you from their grasps.  
“I’m gonna teach him everything I know.” Lo’aks grin is unnerving and a little sinister, giving away the trouble that he’s already trying to get your son into.  
“Please don’t.” You joke back with your brother, even though you’re being dead serious.  
Neteyam jabs an elbow into his brother's rib cage, disciplining him for his mischief. “Agh — do not worry, Uncle TeTe will keep him in check.”  
“Well, that’s a relief.” You say softly with a smile on your face, “‘Uncle TeTe’. I like that.”  
“Hey, don’t forget about ‘Uncle Lo’Lo’.” Lo’ak chimes in.  
“Eh. Doesn’t have the same ring to it, you know? What do you think, lak?” You jester, looking up at him to be met with a slight smirk.  
“Very… hiyìk [strange; funny].” Ralaks smirk pulls at his lips a little more. “But, at least it is not ‘ak’-ak’.”  
You swear you hear a little chuckle from everyone in the room. All except Lo’ak, who is staring at Ralak with a deadpan expression, arms crossed defensively over his chest. It feels like an eternity passes until Lo’ak finally booms with laughter, extending his arm out to Ralak, who gaily reciprocates and meets Lo’aks’ with a smack.  
“I like this bodyguard of yours, y/n. He actually has a sense of humour.”  
You let loose a scoff and roll your eyes, about ready to wrap this whole thing up and lie down in bed. It’s seemingly obvious, seeing that everyone is giving you space as they take note of your restless body language and bowed shoulders.  
“If you are tired, you should rest.” Neytiri advises, just as you feel Ralaks hand tuck under your arm to support your weight. “Your body is working hard right now.” 
“Yeah, mom. I think I need to lie down for a little.” You mumble, leaning into your mate a little more.  
Your family practically ushers you out, encouraging you to get some rest and to get off your feet. Ralak walks close to you on the way home, keeping with the pace you set to the tee — only intervening with a hand to your hip when necessary.  
And when you finally slump into bed, your eyelids flutter shut before Ralak can settle himself beside you.  
——smut warning—— 
You rouse to Ralak drawing the curtain of your marui, blocking out the orange hue of the last eclipse. It dawns on you that you’ve slept out most of the day. You didn’t even realise you were so tired to begin with.  
“You should have woken me earlier. I slept out the day.” You mumble, sitting up in bed and lightly kicking off the sheets.  
Ralak turns around, surprised that you’re awake. He curses himself under his breath; he was hoping to keep you sleeping by drawing the curtains but instead he did the opposite.  
“You needed to rest.” He says, making his way over to sit on the edge of the bed. “You have been more tired recently.”  
“Yeah?” You snort, “…and what else have I been, sir know-it-all?” 
Ralak chuckles, his eyes falling to your stomach. “…a little more hungry.”  
You smile a little, remembering his fish wrap comment from earlier.  
But then you witness his half-lidded eyes glaze over with something of… wanton. It takes a second to realise that they’re no longer staring at your belly. They’re staring at your tewng [loincloth]. More specifically, the mound imprinting it.  
It’s the way your pussy is being so tightly squeezed by the thin cloth covering it. It’s the one thing that Ralak can’t help himself from indulging in admiring. Then his eyes snap away,  unexpectedly meeting yours. The stare he’s giving you has your thighs rubbing together and your lower tummy tingling.  
“…a little more tempting.” His voice is thick like honey, laced with lust and arousal.  
In every way. From the way you fill out your top more, to your scent—you’re becoming more  
irresistible the farther along you progress. Your heart beats a little harder between your ribs as you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth. His lecherous gaze is fixed, blue eyes piercing into yours. It’s been too long since he’s been inside you that it aches.  
But he’s been patient.  
Especially since the day he figured out you were pregnant. With the way you smelt he found it hard to keep his distance at times but nonetheless, he did it. But the truth is that you haven’t had penetrative sex since your cycles synced.  
To be clear, he took care of you just fine.  
Tending to your needs whenever you initiated intimacy with him but he never took it further than his fingers and mouth. After seeing you so battered by his own hands he found it hard to put you in a position that could garner a similar result again.  
For a while, he lost trust within himself.  
That he no longer had the capacity for self control. Not only did he feel like he didn’t deserve it, but he never expected you to return the pleasure either. He had already taken you on his own terms. Repeatedly.  
Ruthlessly.  
So when you ate one to many of his payoang niktsyey [fish wraps] — when the new earthiness of your scent wafted past his nose — he knew. He knew it stuck. He knew your womb swelled with his child as each day passed. And the urge to protect only swelled with it.  
He became even more gentle with you. Handling you with care when your skin softened and your hips became a little fuller. Ensuring he had excess when he cooked. Weaving an extra thick blanket for you to sleep with when he was off on duty with Tonowari.  
It ached most when he’d come home just to see it kicked off onto the floor, with you on your stomach and your leg propped up just right. Your loincloth would always shift to the side, just enough to expose plump folds that innocently peek through the seam of the thin fabric. Fuck, it more than ached. It made him tender. Throbbing in his own tewng.  
Just like now.  
He dares not to break the steady, intent stare. Or else he may steal another glance at the softness between your thighs. But he can see in your eyes that you feel similarly. You always give him that look before doing something ‘troublesome’. You break eye contact first, your eyes now landing on his tewng.  
Fuck. 
Your eyes widen a little when you catch sight of the growing, thick bulge in his loincloth. Your gaze locks onto it, taking in every detail. From the thick stripes on his thighs to the way the twine of his loincloth is cutting into his v-lines. You can even see the outline of the crown of his cock.  
His stomach rises and falls from his uneven breathing, and his abs pop out one by one as he leans further back—supporting his torso with his arms behind his back. He was never shy about his body, and he certainly isn’t now.  
“Then, why do you resist me?” Though it's a question, it doesn’t sound like one when the words drip off your lips. Your voice is soft and feigned with innocence, yet you're shuffling to get on all fours to crawl over to him. You truthfully don’t care for the answer, you knew that it would be the same old song—‘he doesn’t want to hurt you’. 
“I hurt you.” He says coldly—simply, glancing at the fading scar on your shoulder as you settle yourself on your knees beside him. He watches as your hand finds purchase on his knee, and slides up his thigh. “And now that you are with child… I—haah”. He’s cut short with a shaky breath and slight jolt when you cup his bulge with a bit of force. He looks down at your hand, dainty and slender, barely grasping half of what’s under his tewng.  
“You worry about me too much.” You mumble, more focused on the speed at which his cock pulses at. “Yet still, never yourself.” You feel around, sliding your palm up and down its length, earning a rough exhale from Ralak in return. His lidded eyes dart back over to you, taking in the sight of you almost bent over his lap.  
“That so?” His voice is thick and gruff.  
“Mhm. ‘m always telling you that, aren’t I?” You hum softly, slowly moving your hand further down between his legs, firmly cupping his balls. They’re heavy in your hand, hot to the touch and— 
Eywa. 
“They’re swollen.” You whisper breathlessly, your glossy eyes meeting him with concern. They dart back to his crotch, your hand now fumbling with the twine of his tewng, hurriedly trying to unravel the knot to get the suffocating fabric off him. 
“‘tis fine.” He winces as he spits out the words, watching you pinch him a little while struggling with the taut material.  
Ignoring his words, you continue with your task, a bit more gently now. And when the knot comes undone, the twine falls off his hips and the tewng loosens with it. You tug it off him and see that they’re not only puffed up but also darker in colour. They’re firm and pulled close to his body, perfectly round and stripes well-defined.  
Shamefully, it turns you on to see his balls so full.  
Just the thought of them being so swollen with his seed that they’re aching and throbbing to empty themselves inside you—fuck, it’s making your teeth grit. You sit back into the dip of your feet and stare as your breathing becomes heavier. The more you look the more you realize that they’re pulling tighter and tighter towards his core. You look up at him, a little surprised. Your arousal is etched into your features and it’s more than obvious in your body language. You want to know how they’d feel in your mouth. How they’d taste.  
If they’d even fit.  
Without another passing second you bend over his lap, tail high in the air and legs spread—the overpowering scent of your arousal filling the air. You shove your face between his thighs, inhaling deeply his musky scent. You let out a breath of desire, one that sounds nothing short of pleasure and satisfaction. He smells too good. You can’t help yourself but give his firm balls a quick, kitten lick. The giant above you holds back his chuckle, finding your behaviour cute and honestly a little amusing. Feeling like the butt of a joke, you firmly grasp his length and tug it upwards, causing his balls to pull even tighter.  
“Y/n.” He hisses your name, adjusting his legs to rid himself of the strained feeling. You wet your lips with a quick swipe of your tongue, and press your cheek against them. They’re hot—heating up a degree higher the more you tease him. Just as you pull your cheek away and manage to fit one of them into your mouth, his hand flies to the back of your head, balling your hair into his fist.  
“You need not to—” your tail curls and the tip of it tickles against his chest, “—haah…do this.” Ralak huffs out a sigh of frustration it seems, looking down at you with somewhat of a predatory leer. You pop off with a pwah, catching your breath and turning your head.  
You both share an intent stare with one another, one that feels more challenging than anything. He’s insistent that he’s undeserving of this, and you’re insistent that he must be taken care of. His grip loosens on your hair, until he lets you go completely.  
“Shh…shh.” You shush him, eyes narrowing as they remain locked onto him. You slowly slide off the bed one leg at a time, sinking to your knees and settling yourself between his legs—now looking up at him with doe-eyes. The sight before you has your heart palpitating, just like the sight of your face so close to his cock has his jaw clenching.  
Ralak quiets himself by locking his jaw, waiting patiently to see how this unfolds. It’s the first he’s seen you in this position, on your knees, between his. His cock twitches in excitement as clear, thick beads of precum begin to roll down its length. You swallow thickly at the sight, wrapping your dainty fingers around its girth to pull it close to your flushed lips.  
Ralaks ears flutter and his eyelids grow heavy, his chest heaving as he shifts his weight to the palms of his hands—sitting up.  
You open your mouth, strings of your saliva connecting your lips together. They break when you lower your head, taking the mushroomy, glistening head of his cock into your mouth. It’s mostly sweet, and a little salty too. The corners of your mouth sting as you accommodate his thickness, and you struggle to open your jaw wide enough to take him further into your mouth.  
His head dips forward, eyes slamming shut when he feels your wet, warm tongue press against the underside of his cockhead. His hand flies to your head again, gently cupping the back of your skull as he lets out a strained breath.  
Muffled noises vibrate through your nose as you swipe your tongue side to side against his head. It throbs against your tongue each time it hits that sensitive spot right down the middle. You suckle and swipe at the same time, using your hands to pump the rest of his length until you're grunting and snorting for air. You come up, gasping to fill your lungs.  
His hand quickly slides from the back of your head to cup the swell of your cheek. His calloused thumb swipes at a bead of saliva rolling down your chin and pops it back into your mouth. “What are you doing, my tanhì?” He whispers the rhetorical question, ensuring his voice is calm and gentle. It sounds as if he’s given up—given in.  
Without answering, you take him back into your mouth, locking your jaw once you open it as wide as you possibly can. You stick your tongue out as far as it’ll go and look up at him with eyes that begin to water. He looks down at you with a concerned expression, which morphs into one of astonishment. Your head goes lower and lower, taking inch after inch of his cock down your throat.  
The tears in your eyes finally spill over, and your nose begins to burn. Half of his length is down your throat and you can barely breathe, but the more his face grimaces from how good you feel around him, the more of him you urge yourself to take. You hold onto his hips, using them as leverage to shove more of him down your throat.  
“Hnng. Easy.” He groans roughly, pushing back against your shoves. “You are pregnaaah—mmn, you will make yourself sick, tanhì.”  
Lifting your hand from his hip, you smack away his hand and take him full hilt, his cock hitting the back of your throat, making it bulge. You stop for a second, slowly inhaling through your nose to focus on not gagging. You try moving the back of your tongue, slowly stroking the rest of his length with your hand.  
“Ah, shit.” He exhales shakily, his eyes rolling back before squeezing shut. He looks focused, like he’s concentrating on not cumming down your throat right then and there. Lips parted slightly, each breath he takes becomes louder and more raggedy. His thigh muscles tense up and his legs spread a little more, his hand finding its own way to the base of your kuru.  
Chest swelling with pride, you begin to bob your head and coat his cock with your sticky spit. The more slippery it gets the harder he has to fight back his choked grunts. The grip he has on your kuru is tightening, as if he were preparing himself to pry you off his cock before he fills your throat.  
Suddenly, his head sinks back and his jaw clenches—hard. You could feel it. The way his cock twitches. The way it’s heating up. The way it’s swelling in your mouth. Gurgled noises are escaping past his lips, and he purses them tightly together in attempts to keep himself quiet. His core flexes, and his hips start to stutter. His whole body jolts from how sensitive he’s getting, and finally he thrusts into your mouth, the pointed tip of his cock slamming into the back of your throat. 
You silently gag as his hips stammer into you and he’s fucking your throat in frenzied little movements. He’s trying his hardest to be as gentle as he possibly can.m, but your throat is so soft and tight around him. You swallow around his cock as you try to take a breath and suddenly his erratic movements still. 
“Y/n.” He lets loose a dying groan as his head slumps forward and his inebriated eyes struggle to open.  
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 
His voice is gravelly and thick with restraint. You love to see him like this—hear him like this. You can’t help the wandering hand that’s making its way down to your soaked tewng. You try to touch yourself through the fabric, but have a hard time finding your clit with it covered like this. Exasperated, you shove your hand under the band of your loincloth and use all four fingers to rub sloppy circles into your puffy clit.  
Ralak is too immersed into this to even take note of your desperation. He’s too desperate himself. And if you don’t stop now, he really won’t be able to help himself. He begins tugging you by your queue, trying to pry you away from him. With each hasty swipe of your fingers you suck a little harder, as if you were trying to match your pleasure with your mates’. He pulls at your kuru even harder but you’re unbudging, firmly holding the base of his cock as you relentlessly suckle on the most sensitive part of his tip.  
“Stop.” He growls out of breath, finally looking down just to be tipped close to the edge by the sight below him. You look dumb and fucked out with his cock stuffed in your mouth, broken moans vibrating against his length as you franticly touch yourself.  
Finally, he yanks you off him with one swift, hard tug, his cock slapping his stomach when it pops out of your mouth. You land on your behind, legs spreading wide open as your fingers work away at your now throbbing clit.  
“Why? Can’t handle it?” You taunt him between pants and breathy, hoarse moans. Rather than answering he looks down at you with a cocked brow, kuru still in hand. Both of you stare at one another, shoulders and chests violently heaving as you both pant for air.  He’s raw and pulsing, twitching from the heartbeat in the crown of his cock.  
It's suspended mid air, jumping from how insanely aroused he’s left himself. Sticky beads of precum constantly roll down his shaft, one after the next and his balls are throbbing too. You get back on your knees and lunge for his cock again, tongue darting out to have another taste. He pulls you back, his hand still having a firm grasp of your kuru.  
“Is this what you are like when you have been bred?” Ralak huffs, a little taken aback by your lewd behaviour. His gaze shifts to your pathetic attempt to make yourself cum, and a smirk spreads across his lips. “So desperate.” Your silence has his brows scrunching together and him yanking your head back so you’re looking up at him. A growl rumbles in his chest as he slowly rises to his feet, bringing you to your knees with him—his hung cock swaying directly in your face.  
A smug little smile pulls at your lips when you realise you’re riling him up. You witness his jawbone flutter, his ears laying flat against his skull. He just wants to stuff his cock back down your throat to teach you a lesson. Instead he shoves your face into his crotch, your nose burying itself into the space between his cock and balls. He holds you there for a few seconds, just long enough that when he finally pulls you away you suck in a tiny gasp of air.  
Ralak sighs a low, lengthy breath, forcing himself to regain his composure. He can’t understand how such a little thing can be so feisty. To act as if he couldn’t pin you down and take you without a scuffle. Truthfully it only makes him even harder. It only further proves that you are really the woman for him.  
Slowly bringing you to your feet, he keeps your face pressed to his body so that your bottom lip drags along his torso as you make your way up. Your hand is still stuffed inside your tewng, slick fingers working hard to find their way back to your clit. With his free hand he grabs a hold of your hip, and steadily backs you up against the wall.  
When your back hits the wall, a shaky breath is expelled from your lungs. He lets go of your kuru and rips your hand from your tewng. He then wedges his knee between your legs, putting pressure on your clit, making it flutter uncontrollably. His movements are quick but gentle, filled with purpose and desire. His eyes dart back and forth between yours as he searches them, his face just inches away from yours.  
“Answer me, little one.” He whispers into your mouth.  
“Yes.” Your answer is breathy and short.  
Ralak heaves a heavy sigh.  
“I am trying to be gentle…” He speaks the words through gritted teeth, using both hands on your hips to spin you around to face the wall. He lowers his head until his lips graze against the tip of your ear. “…but you make it so hard for me.” He growls, using the perfect amount of force to pin you against the wall with his body. His large hand swiftly moves to your lower stomach, cupping it to act as a protective barrier between the wall and your budding womb. 
“No need to be. I can handle you just fine.” Your lips are pressed tight to your teeth, face flush against the smooth surface, making it hard for you to speak clearly. “Pregnant or not.” 
Ralak chuckles.  
“Is that right?” He speaks in an almost condescending tone, hurriedly tugging down your loincloth just enough to get access to your cunt. Without warning, he bends his knees a little to align your pelvises and then shoves his cock between your slickened, warm folds. “Oh tanhì, you are soaked.” His voice quiets down into a hushed whisper, “All from sucking my cock?”   
A mewl splits your lips just as all the blood rushes to your face, staining it a bright pink. Your pussy clenches around nothingness only causing more of your slick to ooze on his cock. Your breath turns shaky, tail swishing wildly behind you. You can’t move even if you wanted to. He’s got you pinned down, quickly reminding you of his strength. And had it not been for his hand on your abdomen you would be completely plastered to the wall and taken on his terms.  
“Tsk-tsk…Have you no shame?” Ralak tuts, holding you still. “Or must I give you a lesson on self-restraint?”  
Despite his cockiness you can sense the urgency in his body language and in his voice. You can feel it in the way his hips stutter, as his cock slides back and forth between your pussy lips. His own desperation. The desire to be inside you. The need for release.  
“Go on then, karyu.” You moan softly, causing his grip on you to loosen for a millisecond. Hearing that name brings a feeling of nostalgia. Of lust. You push back into him, your slippery hole trying to suck him inside with a few quick movements of your pelvis. “But I know you’ve been desperate… desperate to fuck your numeyu.” 
“Oh, little one.” His chuckle is dark and depraved, his protective hand stiffening as if he were preparing it for what's to come. “Yet you are trying your hardest to take me inside you.” He licks your ear lobe to tip, whispering, “so cute.” 
“Fnawe’tu [coward].” You mutter under your breath, steadying your feet to ground yourself.  
Ralaks ears flicker and stand tall, then immediately lay flat to his head—his brow cocking in astonishment. His smirk grows wider, the heat in his chest spreading to his extremities. Now that pushes him over the edge.  
“Say that again, numeyu.” He challenges you in a growl, angling his hips so his weeping cockhead prods at your entrance. He ensures not to let the buck of his hips win, keeping you empty and yearning.  
“Haah… afraid to take what’s yours.” You purr, rising to the tips of your toes to try sink him inside you. “Fnawe’tu—” 
Smack. 
The sound of his swollen balls making contact with your puffy clit is almost as loud as your broken gasp. You smile open mouthed as he holds his position balls deep inside you, firmly pressing the tip of his cock into your cervix. He’s grinding his back teeth, digging his chin into your shoulder to quell the rumble of his chest from how tight you’re squeezing his cock.  
You whine from the fullness of him stuffed inside your cunt, his unmoving hips sending a clear message of dominance. He’s hunched over you, body weight pinning you mercilessly against the wall, hand over your womb to keep your unborn safe—as promised. Still being gentle enough.  
But you want him to lose it.  
To fuck into you like he were in rut again. To use your pussy like a fucktoy to satiate his own greed and self pleasure. He deserves that much, for being such a competent and loving man to you. Yet it seems the only way to bring that out of him is to play dirty.  
“Fnawe’tu [coward].” You repeat shakily. 
Smack. 
Another deep and hard thrust into your sloppy cunt. He lets loose the rumble in his chest this time, bearing his canines and putting most of his weight on you now. Lips pressed tightly together, your whimper is muffled and outright pathetic, pinched brows giving away the pleasure rippling through you. Still, he remains unmoving, undeniably making it clear who has the most leverage here. But that doesn’t really matter to you—you’re getting what you want, one way or another.  
Right?  
“Voìk si, little one [behave].” Ralak hisses, fighting the inner conflict within him.  
“Haa—” Your laugh that follows is a little sinister, open mouthed and smug. Hands pressing into the wall you push off its surface, sinking him deeper inside you. “No.”  
“Alright.” His voice is husky, thick with confidence and temperance.  
With a rough, quick tug, his cock slips out of you with a squelch, hanging freely between his legs. Your slick mixed with his precum slowly dribbling off his tip and onto the floor between your pointed feet. You fall to the flat of your feet, panting and whining from the sudden emptiness.  
“W-Wait.” You squeak, hastily getting back on the tips of your toes to stuff him inside you again. “Please.”  
“What was that?” Ralak asks, voiced feigned with innocence. “A little louder.” 
“Please.” You barely whisper, backing up on him.  
“Come now, tanhì.” His hand slips from your hip to grip his cock. Giving it a few strokes he teases your cunt with his cockhead and you instinctively shimmy down. Hips snapping back to prevent you from taking him inside, he dips his head so his mouth is next to your ear and husks, “You can do better than that.”  
“Please!” You moan loudly in desperation, reaching down to your knees to unfetter yourself from your tewng [loincloth].  
“Please, what?” Ralak spits the last word through pursed lips, ready to give you exactly what you want if you just ask for it nicely.  
“Please put it back inside.” You beg pathetically, finally getting the knot of your tewng undone. “Please, fuck me.” 
“Ahh, there’s my good girl.” Ralak praises you with a grin, sinking his cock into your warmth at a leisurely pace. His breathing stutters for every inch that penetrates you. “Was that so hard?”  
“Fuck.” You moan in relief, spreading your legs wider. He’s tamed you and he knows it. “No.” 
“No…?” Ralak says it like a question, hissing when he bottoms out in your cunt.  
“No, karyu.” You answer coyly, voice faltering from the pressure of his cockhead pushing into your cervix.  
“Agh—haah” Ralak lets out a gruff grunt in response, his hips now snapping back and forth out of his control. He’s huffing and puffing next to your ear, pumping his cock in and out of you in a frenzy of need. Swollen balls repeatedly slapping against your clit, it’s almost impossible to hold back the gurgled noises escaping your throat.  
“Fuck—so—fuckin’—deep—fuck.” The curses are punched out of you as he relentlessly smacks into you again and again.  
“Lì’fyaz [language.]” Ralak chides in a growl, hand slipping down to pull back the hood of your clit—taut.  
The continuous sting of your clit has your legs shaking and the way his cockhead is repeatedly stimulating your sweet spot has your eyes rolling back into your head. It’s almost too much all at once yet you yearn for more. Your cunt clamps down around him, especially when the tension becomes so tight you feel your stomach double-knot. Ralak hums when you tighten around him, only making him rut harder into you.  
Pulling back, he glances down at you sucking him in, your tail curled tight to your back and his cock plunging in and out of your pussy. He can see just how tight you are as your pussy walls grip his girth mercilessly. And with the protective hand on your abdomen, he can feel each thrust against the palm of his hand. It makes his chest swell with pride— 
You carry his child yet still take him so well.  
“Oeÿa tsantu [my good girl]” Ralak slips into his native tongue, panting in an accent as thick as tree sap. “Oeÿa numeyutsyìp [my little student]” 
Ralaks cock heats up inside you, heating your core along with it. It’s the same familiar sensation you feel before he provides you with your release. The feeling that keeps your eyes squeezed shut and breath shallow. He knows your close and slows his thrusts like he usually does, fucking you a little harder rather than faster, angling his pelvis so he’s right in your swelling g-spot.  
Your hands fly behind you, grasping at whatever’s available as your orgasm washes through you. You gush all over your thighs, cum dribbling down your legs to your feet, some spattering on Ralak as he fucks and holds you through your high. It’s sudden and uncontrollable, leaving you sputtering out nonsense and your legs shaking violently beneath you.  
“There it is. Good muntxate [wife].” Ralak huffs with a smirk, relishing in the quick, feverish flutter of your cunt on his cock. His voice is shaky from his uneven rhythm now that he can finally allow himself to finish too. “Love—hng—when you cum for me, you—ahh, haah—know that?” 
He begins grinding to you, shoving you further into the wall as he focuses on his own climax. He uses his feet to kick your legs closed, and pulls out of you, stuffing himself between your thighs. He’s groaning and growling, hunched over you with bent knees and flushed, flattened ears. Skin slapping against skin, he humps at your thighs, thick cock sliding back and forth over your still pulsing clit.  
His cockhead continuously pokes out between your folds, tip oozing and oozing with precum. Both his hands fly to your hips, gripping them with force as his thrusts become almost violent. You struggle to keep yourself standing as his hips smack into you repeatedly, your body jolting with each thrust. He gives you one last, harsh thrust, holding you still against him as you feel his cock throb wildly between your thighs. You look down to see his huge load shoot out in thick, white ropes. He’s grumbling behind you, giving your thighs an extra few uncontrollable thrusts as he peaks in his high.  
Finally you fall to the flat of your feet, his arms instantly snaking around your waist to support your weight entirely.  
“I told you no taunting, tanhì.” He’s referring to the time he opened up about his first rut, “Next time, you ask nicely. Tslam? [Understand?]” Ralak says breathlessly.  
“Sran, oeÿa karyu. tslolam. [Yes, my teacher. I understand].” You blubber, fucked out and jaded.  
—— 
2K notes · View notes
bratbby333 · 4 months
Note
I got some thoughts 👀 can I request a little something? like reader finds herself in a situation where a guy is disrespectful to her and Geto steps in to defend her... she would be so relieved like 'thank you so much tall and beautiful stranger' 😍🥰 and he's probably like 'don't worry about it, it's whatever' but in the end he offers to walk her home and he fucks her against the wall things happen 😳😳
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`⭐︎ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ YOUR GUARDIAN STRANGER ! — feat. suguru geto
word count. 3.6k content warnings. characters are 21+, fem!reader x suguru, mentions of blood, allusions to violence, reader gets hit on and grabbed in the club, alcohol consumption, p in v, unprotected sex, use of pet names, dirty talk, thigh-riding, sugu fucks hard, one night stand, the pull-out method, non-curse!au author notes. thank you for ur ingenious request my sweet nonnie...i hope you enjoy xx not beta read !!
nsfw 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 mdni
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A skin-tight dress. Four inch heels. Dark lip liner with a clear gloss on top. A few spritzes of Chanel No. 5, and you are out the door and heading to the club.
Everything is great; good vibes, strong drinks, pounding 808s reverberating off the walls. The liquor warms your stomach as your hips sway to the music, your over-worked body relaxing with every bump of the heavy bass. You take in the scene around you; drunk couples making out in the corner, a few underage kids getting thrown out, a group of friends arguing over god knows what– it’s all very entertaining. You laugh to yourself, your eyes scanning the room once more before your vision settles on the one thing you were trying to avoid. Shit. Your heart drops. Really? Did he not catch the hint the last two times? You sigh deeply, rolling your eyes as you prepare yourself for the inevitable. Not this again.
Because, of course, all good things must come to an end. 
You're used to being hit on. But tonight, there is one guy in particular, unrelenting in his attempts to get close to you. He's shorter than average, the two of you being the same height when you're in heels. He reeks of liquor, cigarettes, and BO. His fringe clings to his forehead as he approaches you for the third time this evening, a disgusting smirk plastered across his face. He seems to have mistaken your accidental eye contact as an invitation to test his luck once more. With tense shoulders and an apprehensive tone, you offer him polite conversation. Not that you want to, but god forbid you reject him in just the right way to make him snap. You don't want to end up being a headline. Your eyes dart elsewhere, knowing damn well that if you look at him for too long you might gag. He is truly disgusting, rambling on and on about his podcast and his most recent bouts of buying and trading crypto. 
It's a tough situation to navigate. You're out alone. Granted, you are at a club that you're comfortable in; you're familiar with the layout, you're friends with a few of the waitresses and bartenders. The DJ knows you by name. But, you're still riding solo in a loud, rambunctious environment. Even though there is a level of comfort here, it's still a club filled with drunkards at the end of the day. 
With a fake smile and a couple nods of your head, you try to ignore the part of the conversation where he referred to himself as an “alpha male” as you accept the drink he presents to you, kindly excusing yourself before disappearing into the crowd once more.
A shudder runs down your spine, your body quite literally trying to shake away that awful conversation. God, he’s the worst. On your way to the dance floor, you pour the contents of the cup into the soil of a potted plant. He doesn't think you're stupid, does he? There is no way in hell you're drinking that shit.
You're dancing alone, enjoying the house mix that's bumping through the giant speakers, the colorful spotlights that bounce around your face as you feel yourself begin to relax once more. Finally, some much needed alone time. All you want is to let loose after an arduous week of working. Can't a girl have some peace?
"C'mon...just give me a chance." You don't even have to turn around to see who it is, you can smell him. Your nose scrunches up before you turn to face him, another fake smile pulling at your cheeks as you speak to him for the fourth time tonight. 
"I'm sorry, but I'm just not looking for anythin'...I'm just tryna have fun," you say politely, before beginning to walk away. If you just keep moving through the crowd, he won't be able to find you again. But this guy is annoyingly determined and obnoxiously entitled, because after one step away from him, his hand grabs at your wrist, "We can have fun! C'mon...seriously?! I bought you a drink and this is how you treat me?"
As soon as the contact is made, your blood boils. Rage runs through your body as you spin around to chew him out for A, assuming some smelly asshole like him has a chance with you; B, for even thinking he could touch you, and C, the absolute nerve of this man to actually follow through with it. 
But when you turn, you realize you can't see him anymore. Your eye line is obstructed by a broad, muscular back. Utterly confused, you step to the side in order to fully see what the hell is going on. The sweaty hand that was once wrapped around your forearm is now gripped by a large fist. Your eyes trail up to your savior, a damningly handsome man with jet-black hair. 
"Do we have a problem?" a stern voice addresses the musty, shorter guy. 
"Yeah, this chick's been flirting with me all night...I'm tryna get what I'm owed," he spits back, attempting to pull his wrist away, "Dude, let go...stop bein' a cockblock." The mystery man's face twists at the other's bold choice in words. You're shocked that he doesn't feel intimidated at all. 
"What you're owed?" A deep chuckle emerges from the unknown’s chest as he stares down at him. "I dunno...it seems like she wants nothing to do with you," he muses, tightening his grip around the other’s arm. 
He turns to address you, and you finally get to take a good look at him. His side-profile is god-like, but looking at him straight on is a whole different realm of attractiveness. The man's fucking gorgeous. You're too busy ogling him that you miss his question all together. 
"S-sorry...what did you say?" You shake your head a bit, adrenaline pumping through your ears from this entire ordeal, the expensive scent of his cologne mixing with the pounding bass of the club; it's all making your head spin. 
He laughs and leans down to your level, his head hovering just next to your ear. "You want me to get rid of him for ya?" he repeats, his breath brushing against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. He pulls back, looking down at you with his grip still tight around the other guy's arm. The pathetic man is squirming as the two of you share quite the intimate eye contact. You nod, your mouth dropping open as he drags him out of the club immediately. 
You let out a deep sigh before making your way to the bathroom. You lather up your hands with soap and do your best to scrub away the feeling of that man's skin on yours. Leaning up against the sink, you take a few deep breaths before fixing your hair and reapplying your lipgloss. That man is vile, but you're not going to let that gross interaction ruin your night. 
You make your way to the bar, keeping your head on a swivel in hopes to see your handsome rescuer once more, wanting to thank him for handling that for you. You pout a bit as you fail to see him on your trek, sighing as you place your order with the bartender. 
You take a few sips before turning to walk back toward the dance floor, when you literally run straight into someone. "Fuck! I am so sorry, I-" but then you smell it, the same entrancing cologne as before. You look up and are met with a devious grin on the most angelic face you've ever seen. You smile, pushing your hair from your eyes, "I was looking for you." You sound relieved as the two of you stare at one another. 
"Were you now?" he asks coyly, shifting his weight as he smirks down at you. You nod shyly, "Mhm...I-I wanted to thank you for earlier," you take another sip of your cocktail, hoping it will calm your nerves a bit, "I appreciate you stepping in, that guy couldn't catcha fuckin' hint," you laugh, looking away. 
"Don't mention it. It's the least I could do," he responds. "I'm Suguru, by the way."
Turning to face him once more, you tell him your name with a kind smile. As the two of you make small talk, you notice his chest is heaving a bit, and with a quirk of your brow, you run your eyes down his body, realizing that his knuckles are bruised and slightly bloody.
"Oh...oh my god. Are you alright?" you ask, grabbing his hand. You bring his fist up to inspect it, the dim lights of the club not offering you much assistance. "Oh, yeah," he laughs, rotating his wrist so you can examine it further, "the blood's not mine," he grins. A laugh escapes you as you gaze up at him, still holding his hand in yours. 
"Damn...you really did a number on him, huh?" Suguru laughs at this.
"Absolutely, he deserved it. Dude was a prick. I'm really sorry that happened to you," he sympathizes, watching as you grab napkins and a shot of vodka from the bar to wipe off the dried blood from his knuckles. 
"It's alright, I'm used to it by now, but having someone step in and save me was definitely a first." He releases a jagged exhale as you pour the liquor over the small abrasions on his hand, "Sorry...gotta disinfect you. That dude was gross...I had to go scrub my arm off after he touched me," you giggle. He watches intently as you finish cleaning him up, his heart skipping a beat as you smile up at him triumphantly. You are quite the woman, cunning and confident. He likes that. 
"There ya go," you chirp, before tossing the reddened napkins into the garbage can located nearby. His eyes run across your face and up and down your body, taking in every part of you. Poor thing. Though you seem so unbothered by that whole situation, there is a telling look behind your eyes, and Suguru notes that you are still a little shaken up. He would be crazy to let you wander back out there alone. 
"Do you want to come hang with my friends? I promise they won't pester you like that dude did," he offers. He nods toward the booths that line the wall. "That's them over there; Shoko and Satoru." You follow his eye line, seeing a brunette woman accompanied by a blue-eyed man. They seem to be about your age, and you love meeting new people. You smile and agree, thanking him once more as the two of you make your way over to the table. 
The rest of your night is spent laughing and dancing with the three of them. You learn that they all work for the high school across town, and that Shoko can really handle her liquor; Satoru cannot. You and Suguru are in your own world, chatting about everything and nothing, taking breaks to dance together when a good song comes on. His hands rest on your waist as you move your hips against him, your bodies fitting like you are made for one another. Suguru, being the gentleman he is, never pushes any further than that, allowing you to initiate the contact. 
It's 2 AM when the four of you stumble out of the club, the tall blond leaning on his smaller friend's shoulders as she guides him toward the taxi. It's quite the amusing sight. 
You stop short of the curb, wishing Satoru and Shoko a good night, before turning to Suguru. "Thank you again…for everything," you say, your voice raspier than usual from all the shouting you did inside the loud club. 
"Of course. I'm just glad we got to spend some more time together," he says with a smile, ushering you toward the taxi. He's confused when you shake your head. 
"I live like three blocks from here, I'm just gonna walk," you state. "It was really nice meeting you, you were great company," you smirk, heading down the road, your heels clacking against the pavement with every step. 
A few unintelligible words are exchanged between Suguru and the taxi driver, followed by a car door slamming shut, before the sound of someone jogging catches up to you. 
"You're crazy if you think I'm gonna let you walk home alone," he retorts, pushing you toward the inside of the sidewalk as he walks closest to the cars that pass by. 
"You're quite the gentleman, aren't you," you tease, pushing your shoulder into his. He chuckles, "Can you blame me? I see a beautiful woman in distress, I have to jump in." You blush at his compliment.
"My knight in...," you pause as you run your eyes down his body, "...jeans and a black tee," you giggle. After sharing a few laughs, silence settles between the two of you as the cool air swirls around you. The occasional car passes by, but other than that, it's a quiet evening. 
You glance at Suguru through your peripherals, enjoying the way his layered hair bounces with every step he takes. His cologne, though more subtle now, still wafts toward your nose. He really is beautiful. You wonder if it'd be too bold to see if he wants to continue your evening. 
You walk toward the door to your apartment, turning to face him. It's now or never. 
"You comin'?" You ask with a raise of your brow. He chuckles as he climbs the stairs, joining you by your side, "Thought you'd never ask."
You have never been into one night stands, but something about Suguru is irresistible. Whether it's because he saved you from that creep or because he is super fucking sexy, you know you need him. Now. The two of you barely made it through the doorway as you’re pushing him up against the wall of your foyer, your lips immediately finding his.
He's taken aback by your boldness, taking a second to register his surroundings before quickly flipping the two of you around, his hands cupping either side of your face as his knee wedges between your legs. His muscular thigh is pressed directly onto your core, the pressure sending waves through your body.
“Couldn’t even make it to the bed, huh?” he husks into your ear, placing a wet kiss on the sensitive skin below, nipping and sucking at it. Soft moans echo through the hallway as Suguru finds your lips once more, your tongues battling one another. You thrust your hips, rubbing your warmth against his leg. “Eager, are we?” he teases, lifting his leg more. 
“Mmm…mhm,” you gasp as the contact intensifies. You’re already addicted to him, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside you. You grind your hips harder, pressing your drenched cunt firmly against his clothed thigh, certain that he can feel your pussy throbbing against him, the tightness in your stomach intensifying. Your cheeks fluster at how quickly he’s getting you to your breaking point without even having to do anything.
He breaks the kiss, watching intently as your hips gyrate against him. “Shit…are you gonna cum?” The tone of his voice is taunting, yet laced with desire. The sight of you using him to get off has him rock hard. You blush immediately, tilting your head away from him. You nod shyly, though your hips continue their pattern. “So fuckin’ hot,” his hand wraps around your throat, your head tilting to rest against the wall. “Uh uh, don’t get shy now…look at me.” Through low lids, you meet his gaze. His lower lip is between his teeth as he glances between your face and your cunt rubbing against his thigh. With a desperate whimper, you pick up the pace. “C’mon…that’s it–cum for me,” he growls, entranced by the fluid motion of your body. You come undone just a few minutes later with a whine and a few moans of his name. Your cum soaks through your panties and a guttural moan breaks through his chest as he watches you finish. “Fuckin’ drenchin’ me already, huh?” You blush profusely, your eyes screwed tight as embarrassment courses through you.
You yelp as he flips you around, your chest now pressed against the wall, your legs parallel with your shoulders. “All that cum ‘n I wasn’t even inside you yet…” He unbuckles his belt, shoving his pants and boxers down just enough to free his throbbing erection, “...can’t wait to see how much you cream on my cock.” You whimper at the filthy words that shamelessly fall from Suguru’s lips as he pulls your dress up and drags your panties down your legs. You aren’t much help, small pants leaving your chest as your body recovers from your unexpectedly intense orgasm.  His lips part as he teases his thick tip along your slit, lubing himself with your cum. “You ready, doll?” His head shallowly dips in and out of your needy cunt, already loving the way you stretch for him. You hum, nodding profusely as you look over your shoulder. “Mm. Mhm…p-please fuck me,” you beg. Your words feel foreign to you as you say them, unsure of where all this submissiveness was coming from. But Suguru’s effortlessly domineering aura makes you want to bend to his every whim, to please him in any way that you can. 
Inch by inch, he’s delving into you. The warmth of your dribbling cunt sucking him, the squelching sounds ricocheting through his head, the sinful moans that break through your throat–it drives him wild. He growls as your back arches, pushing him even deeper. Your ass flush against his lower abdomen, your eyes blowing wide at the damning stretch of his full length nestled deep inside you.
He stays still for a moment, allowing you time to accommodate as your gushy walls flutter around him. The pace starts slow, but Suguru’s patience wears thin, and after a few strokes he’s ramming into you, one hand wrapped around the front of your throat, the other pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he bounces you on his cock. The scratches that should be left on the tanned flesh of his toned back are being dragged down your beige walls, your breasts rubbing against the cold plaster with every rough thrust of his hips, the sensation stimulating your budding nipples. 
Every bump of his hips pushes his head into your sweet spot, his length caressing every part of you with ease. “Takin’ me so well,” he grunts as he rams into your furthest wall. You can’t suppress the cock-drunk whines that spill from you, your eyes welling with tears while delirious pleasure claws its way through your body, your tummy tightening as you clench around him. Your shoulders tense as your perch on your tiptoes, opening yourself up to take more of him–if that is even possible–praying he finds refuge within your womb. “Shit–” he hisses, his words nearly incoherent as the sound of skin against skin echoes through the hallway, “fuckin’ milkin’ me, doll.”
He releases your throat, the same hand trailing down your spine before his arm snakes around you, his nimble fingers strumming delicious circles against your throbbing clit. You cry out, eyes screwing shut as your legs shake. “Fuck…oh fuuuck–ahh! Gonna…’m gonna…” Your voice trails off, any semblance of a coherent thought cast to the wayside as a deep chuckle rumbles through his chest. Suguru leans down, kissing behind your ear before biting at your lobe. “I know,” he muses, his fingers work even faster against you, “Squeezin’ me s’tight…”, his hips shifting to push himself even deeper, “...C’mon. Make a mess ‘f me.” You reach your breaking point once more, lips parting as squirt spills out around his cock and dribbles down your thighs. 
His release follows suit with a few raspy swears and sultry mumbles of your name. He pulls out, working his fist around his cock, his hot seed shooting onto your ass and lower back. Suguru places soft pecks along your neck and shoulders, working to regain his breath. He catches you as he untangles his body from yours, chuckling at the evident exhaustion of your body while your knees buckle, unable to support your own body weight as you lean against the wall. 
After tucking himself away and a speedy rebuckle of his belt, he scoops you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style to your bed, setting you down on your plush duvet. 
“Bathroom?” he asks. Your brows furrow before you comprehend his question, still dazed from the spell he cast on you. With a weak flick of your wrist, you gesture toward the closed door to your left. You watch with tired eyes as he returns with a damp rag, his soft touches along your weary body juxtaposing the meanness of his strokes as he mindfully cleans you up. With a quick kiss on your cheek and a soft mumble of “you were wonderful” into your ear, he smiles down at you before beginning to exit the bedroom. It’s crazy–insane, even–how much you want him around. You must be out of your mind…this near stranger—the fact that you even let him in your house is wild, let alone asking him to stay the night? But you want him to, so bad. There’s just something about him.
You sit upright, ignoring the ache in your lower back and the morality of your choices, your question flying from your lips before your brain can stop it. “Wait…can you stay?” Your words are soft as they drift through the air. He stops just short of the door, before turning and offering you a knowing smile, “I thought you’d never ask.”
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author notes. certified sugu glazer…what can i say. i just cannot get enough of him ugh.
i’m still workin thru all my requests, i appreciate yalls patience w me 🤍
my reqs are closed atm, but thirsts + chats are welcome! come say hello ☺️
tag list: @admirxation @sadmonke @the-weeb-of-the-uchiha @call-memissbrightside (lmk if u want to be removed from tags🤍)
©bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.
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sarahowritesostucky · 5 months
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Happy Little Family
📖"Taking Back What's His"
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 6170
Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, rape, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", yandere, kid fic
Summary: You thought you'd left behind the man who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.
This chapter: You try one last, desperate ploy to escape, but it doesn't exactly work out. And James hasn't come alone. The next time you wake up, you're a long way from home.
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Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one" pchelka = "little bee"
2. Taking Back What's His
(Wait! I haven't read part 1 yet!)
He says something to you, after. Words that might as well be in his native Russian, for how well you take them in. But they're soft, and reassuring—he’s pleased. His body weight moves off the bed.
When you finally open your eyes and blink up at the ceiling, it’s the softest baby pink all around the edges, like smoke curling into your vision. It’s nice, peaceful. Feels good-all-over in that way that painkillers do. You haven’t experienced it since the last time you had sex with an alpha.
Which James unfortunately seems to have figured out was with him, almost two years ago. 
“Oh, kotenok, You haven’t been fucking anybody.” 
You’re still in the afterglow, mind muzzy, all of your previous panic and fear blunted near to the point of erasure with how nice it feels to float, when you hear James’ pleased chuckle from where he’s getting dressed. He comes back and leans over you. “Hey Sweetheart. Feeling good?” 
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You frown at him, though it takes a concerted effort to make any expression of displeasure. You want him to know you aren’t happy, that this state he’s fucked you into isn’t real. You want to slap that smug fucking look right off his face. All you manage to come up with is a pouty little “no" that makes James laugh.
“Come here.” He fixes your dress, then helps you up off the bed. He seems to be checking to make sure you’re steady on your feet before he lets you stand on your own. “You good?”
“M’fine.” He knows you too well, knows how intense it can be for you, how strongly you react to him. You avoid his knowing gaze. You’re not completely useless like this. You can still remember everything that’s going on, can still remember June. “Please,” you say again, trying to change the tone of your voice. “Let me give her to Hilde.”
James rolls his eyes. “Right, right. Your friend across the street.”
“Please James?” You look up at him, pink edges all around his face, so pretty. Goddamn him. “She’ll be safe there.”
Again, something passes through his eyes too quickly for you to identify. It might be annoyance. He sighs, and the look, whatever it was, is gone. “Sure thing, Doll. Babies need a lot of stuff. You might as well pack up what she needs.”
You nod tearfully, going to your closet to grab a bag. He follows close behind, sending a clear message that he’s not planning on letting you out of his sights while you do this. James isn’t stupid, you’ll give him that.
In the nursery, June is happy to see you and wants you to pick her up. You talk to her in a sweet, placating voice as you go around the room grabbing different things that she’ll need and stuffing them in the bag. At this point you know to be grateful for the haze. Even as it tapers off, it’s blunting the sorrow that you know would otherwise have you sobbing and your voice clogging with tears. This way at least, you’re able to keep June thinking everything is alright. This way she isn’t scared. 
It’s when you’re crouched beside the changing table, stuffing diapers into the bag with James behind you that you get the idea: Downstairs: the kitchen: in the drawer. Your gun.
You stop moving long enough that James notices. “What’re you doing? Come on.”
You stand back up. Yes. You have to do it. This is the only chance you have at getting out of this and not losing June. You lick your lips nervously before turning back around to face him. “I … have to get her bottles and stuff from downstairs,” you say, hoping that the lingering post-coital haze is enough to keep your true intentions off your face. Your eyes flick up to James, who’s squinting at your tits.
“Bottle?” He starts to smirk, and you glare at him.
“Yes. Asshole. I won’t exactly be around to feed her, now will I?” 
His face softens at that and he gives you an apologetic look. “Right. Well go on, then.” 
You move for the hallway, realize he’s not following you, and turn back in confusion. He’s beside the crib, holding his hand out for June to touch. Your heart leaps from your spot in the doorway. “What are you doing?”
He arches an eyebrow. “I’m waiting right here until you come back upstairs,” he says, his message clear. 
Your pulse picks up, but you force yourself to nod. You’re useless without that gun. You have to get to it. He narrows his eyes at you while June giggles and reaches for his wiggling fingers. “No games.”
“Yeah,” you whisper, and turn and head for the stairs. 
It’s pure torture to move at a casual speed, especially as your mind is clearing and the fearful emotions returning. In the downstairs hallway, you check once over your shoulder that James hasn’t followed you, then pick up your pace, hurrying into the kitchen and heading straight for the drawer where you keep the gun.
Your eyes tear up as you maneuver past the digital lock that you installed for nothing. June’s still crawling. She never even got old enough to toddle over here. You press the code into the keypad, cringing when it does its quiet little two-tone ‘beep’ at being unlocked. You wait, heart in your throat until you hear the mechanism moving, then rip open the drawer. 
Your heart stops and your brain freezes and all you can think is: No. No, no no— 
“Looking for this?” 
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You whirl around, and there he is: standing on the other side of the kitchen, leaning against the sink as he holds your only weapon in his hands.
His face is relaxed, Goddamn him, as he pretends to ignore your horror and instead holds the gun up to flippantly inspect it. “I have to say, Doll, I’m impressed. I would’ve expected some puny girl gun. Ruger, Derringer. But this?” He turns the Skorpion in his hands, and chuckles softly when he sees the cartridge. “Jesus. You really wanted to blow a hole in somebody, didn’t you?” His eyes finally drag up to you, the hand he’s holding the gun with dropping down by his side as he starts walking over, slowly, step by step, eyes boring into you with a growing anger.
Oh shit. Dread curls in your gut but you’re frozen. Bolting now wouldn’t even get you to the staircase. He presses in close, pinning you against the countertop. He brings the gun up and nudges your jaw with it, leaning in and breathing in your face, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find it, vorishka?”[little thief]
He’s taunting you with your own failure, and you can’t stop the whimper that breaks from your throat at having your one and only plan foiled so pathetically easily. “James,” you plead, “I didn’t—”
“Shh sh sh. None of that, now.”  He’s speaking softly, sweetly, but he’s furious. He drags his lips over your cheek and the barrel of the gun you stole from him over the other. “So what was the plan? How were you going to kill me with my own gun? Pop upstairs and shoot up the nursery?”
“N-no.”
“Ah. Right. You’re smarter than that. You would’ve waited for me to come down and see what the fuck was taking you so long, or put it in the duffle and waited until we dropped the whelp off at the neighbors. Is that it?"
You sniffle and nod, angry at him for being such an all-knowing asshole. “You can’t hold that against me,” you say, trying to defend yourself.
He nods thoughtfully. “Hmm. Yes, I suppose you’re right. I can’t blame you for that.” Your shoulders start to relax, that is until he pulls back to glare at you and holds the gun to you again, this time pointing it right underneath your chin. He looks angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “But do you know what I can hold against you, Little thief?” Your face pinches in fear, sure that you’re about to be shot, and he digs the muzzle cruelly into your skin, forcing you to look at him. “The fact that that pup up there is ten months old, and I’ve never even fucking seen her.” 
Your eyes widen as you realize: he knows. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but he beats you to it.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to tell she’s mine?” 
“James,”
“All this time!” he hisses, hurt lancing through his features. “You kept her from me! What gives you the right?” 
“I—I didn’t—”
He growls and pushes away from you, several steps back, glaring. “Nothing, is the answer you’re looking for. You had no right to do that.” 
You try to edge to the side, but freeze when he straightens his arm and points the gun right at you. “James, wait …”
He aims it at your face, but then lowers it for a center mass shot, which is what really convinces you you’re about to die. “Say goodbye, mamochka,” he says, with steely eyes and his finger curling over the trigger. 
It’s a submachine gun that fires in three shot bursts, or fully automatic. Either way, you know you’re about to be riddled with bullets, so you start to hyperventilate. It’s an embarrassing reaction, but at least you have the dignity of knowing what your last words on this earth would’ve been. “Don’t hurt her,” you gasp.
His eyes fill with rage and he pulls the trigger. 
… Nothing happens, but you’re bracing so hard that it takes you a full two or three seconds to realize it. Then, when you do realize it, and you see James standing there looking grim but completely unsurprised that you haven’t been shot, all of the breath rushes out of your lungs. You feel like you’re about to faint, which is apparently what he’s waiting for. 
He ejects the empty magazine, shaking his head in disbelief. “You really thought I’d do it, didn’t you?” He takes a step forward, but pauses when you flinch back. “What the hell have you convinced yourself that I am?” 
You step back again when he moves. “Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t.”
“Don’t, don’t,” he whispers, mocking you. “Don’t what? Don’t take back what’s mine? The mother of my pup? A pup I didn’t get to see grow or come into this world?” Your breath hitches with emotion and he doesn’t miss it, the bastard. “Yeah,” he says darkly. “You robbed me of that. But I’ll get over it, don’t worry.”  He leers up and down your body in its flimsy sundress. “I’ll be putting another one in you real soon.”
You see red. Fury sweeps through you and stings your eyes, roars in your ears. You grab the nearest thing to you, which is the edge of the utensils crock on the counter. It spills over and your hand closes around the handle of the meat mallet. You cry out and swing at him, wanting to smash his smug fucking face to smithereens. 
“Woah-ho, easy there.” He laughs and takes a surprised step back, as though you’re nothing but a tantruming child. “Stop being so dramatic.”
You growl and lunge for him again, but cut off in a shriek as someone suddenly grabs you from behind. The meat mallet clatters to the floor as you’re hauled back against the hard body of another man. One big arm wraps around your middle, and the other holds a cloth up at your face, pressing it over your mouth. “Mmph!” you yell out, muffled, and get a huge inhale of chlorine-like smell into your lungs for your trouble. You hold your breath and thrash, but it’s less than useless. The person holding you is large and strong. When you try to headbutt him, it doesn't even clip his chin. You bring your hands up to try and claw at the hand holding the cloth over your mouth, but your nails meet metal instead of skin, and you gasp in another inhale of chemicals as you realize who it is. “Mmph!”  
James steps up close, smirking fondly as he watches you fighting the urge to inhale. Eventually he tuts and reaches up to cup your cheek. “Shhh, omegechka. Stop. Stop fighting now. It’s all over.” 
“Nngh!”
“Just take a deep breath and go to sleep. Everything’ll be alright, I promise. Just relax.” You whimper as you feel yourself running out of air, knowing that your body’s going to force you to draw breath in a second. James leans in and kisses your forehead tenderly. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers, just as your vision starts to fade out, “or our daughter.”
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The smell of professionally scented, circulating air hits you first, and then the taste of old pennies in your mouth. Then, a gradually increasing sense of awareness of your body in space and time. At first you think you're somewhere very bright, as colors and rainbows dance through your lashes, but the more you blink your eyes open, the more the brightness fades and your vision comes into focus.
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And there he is: holding a crystal tumbler and looking like he's been waiting for you to come round. "Well hello there, Sleepyhead,” he says. “Welcome back." He takes a sip of whatever it is he’s drinking, the ice cubes clinking softly against the sides of the glass. He looks totally relaxed.
You sit up straighter in the seat where you’d been slumped, moving your tongue around inside of your dry mouth and trying to remember what happened. And then reality hits you in waves, each one more devastating than the last:
James—He found you. 
June—She's not there.
"How're you feeling? Thirsty?"
You blink, dazed, a few lingering specks still floating at the edges of your vision. You look around the room you’re in, clocking your surroundings. Windows, cabin—Shit. You're already on a plane. Pressure builds rapidly at the backs of your eyes as you fight not to cry, thinking of your baby girl left behind, never getting to see her again.
You didn’t even get to say goodbye. 
Bucky’s eyes sharpen on you when your stifled sob breaks out and you throw a hand over your mouth. "Steve,” he says, still watching you in concern. “Get her a bottle of water."
“Sure thing, boss.”
And then the worst realization of all: You look over and see the winter fucking soldier walking down the aisle, holding your baby.
They've got June.
Your eyes widen and you make a distressed little ‘meep’ of a sound. “Steve!” you blurt, and he turns to face you. He looks surprised that you’ve spoken directly to him. He’s not wearing his usual black mask, but he still looks huge and intimidating, and it’s like seeing a wild animal right next to your baby—dangerous, wrong. Your mouth works uselessly as you stare at his hands on June’s body: one supporting her head, and the metal one scooped under her butt. You see her back rise and fall steadily through her bumblebee onesie and you realize that she’s asleep. “I-is she okay?” you ask, heart in your throat. 
Steve’s eyes narrow at you, but he nods curtly. “She’s fine.” 
Across from you, James scoffs, drawing your attention back to him. “He’s going to put her down. There’s a crib in the back. She’ll be fine,” he says, when he sees you stiffen in protest. “You and I have some catching up to do, vorishka.”
“I thought we did that back in my bedroom,” you snap.
“You still want the water?” Steve asks.
“That’s okay.” Bucky keeps his eyes on you. “I’ll take care of her. You just stay back there with pchelka while she sleeps.” 
Steve nods, and you can’t help yourself. “Wait! Please. Please give her to me. Steve?” You sit forward with your arms outstretched, but can only watch helplessly as the other man obeys Bucky and ignores you, disappearing back into the next section of the plane. Bastard never did like you. 
“She’ll be fine,” Bucky assures you. “Just sit back and relax. We won’t be in the air for too long.”
You hate it, but you do sit back in the chair. James won’t hurt her. You know that. Especially now that you know he knows. You look around the cabin, taking in the wide, leather seats and gleaming wood finishes. There’s a couch, tv, a bar. A fucking electric fireplace. It's the sort of luxury you used to go starry-eyed over; incredibly rich men, fat or old or ugly, tripping all over themselves to spoil you.
… Only, James was never any of those things.
“This is your plane?” you ask, dragging your hand over the arm of your seat.
James smirks. “What? You thought I’d kidnap you and then fly commercial?” 
You purse your lips at his joke. “I guess not.” You relax back, trying to get your bearings. It is bad news that you’re already on a plane with him. You’ll be landing at his private airstrip at the Siberia compound, which gives you no middle ground to run. You bite your lip as your thoughts race and you try to think of anything you might be able to do once you get to—
“Stop it,” James says quietly, drawing your attention back to him. He’s giving you a stern look. “You barely got away before, and that was on your own. Now we’ve got our daughter. Anything you try will put her in unnecessary danger and you know that.” He shakes his head, some of that sadness from before creeping back into his eyes. “You’re not leaving me again, omegechka.”
“I’m not?” you echo, stuck in place by his stare, by the memories you share with him, and the fear you have of what he’s planning for your punishment. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m just taking back what’s mine, Sweetheart. You do realize that?” You fail to answer him and his gaze hardens just a little bit. “That’s okay. You’ll see it eventually. This isn’t a bad thing. If you had just stuck around a little longer instead of lying to me and running off, then you would’ve seen it before, and we wouldn’t have to be going through this right now.” He raises his drink to you in a little salute. “You, me, and pchelka? We’re going to be a family.”
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You don’t refuse the water he gives you, or the drink that he mixes for you, after. If James wanted to keep you drugged up until reaching Siberia, he certainly could’ve done so without allowing you to wake up on the plane. You’re only conscious right now because he wants you to be. And because you know that, you don’t protest the drink he prepares for you over at the bar. To be honest, a stiff one actually sounds really good right about now.
“Thank you,” you murmur as he hands it over, still unmoored by this drastic shift in circumstances. A few hours ago you’d been safe in your cottage, then suddenly you weren’t. One minute you’re sure you’re about to get a bullet in the face from this man, and the next, he’s got you sipping thousand dollar vodka on his private jet, calmly explaining how he intends to keep you and force you into some twisted form of domestic bliss. 
“I had a whole renovation done for her,” he tells you. “Pchelka will have plenty of room to play and grow.”
You frown, hating the idea of your daughter growing up in that cold, Siberian fortress. You don’t care if he’s bought her an indoor waterslide and a herd of ponies. It’s no place for a child. “What does that mean?” you ask grumpily. “That word: chelk—? You keep using it. You can’t just rename my daughter.”
Hurt flashes in his eyes, but he wipes it away fast. “Pchelka means little bee. The outfit you put her in has bees on it.”
“Oh … Right.” You love that set. It’d been another gift at the shower, from Hilde.
“And she’s my daughter too,” James says tightly.
You gulp at the bitterness in his tone, at his eyes boring into you with reproach. It’s silly, but you do feel bad about hurting him in this one way, at least. “Her name is June,” you offer quietly.
His face draws tight with emotion that’s impossible for you to decipher. Mostly you just sense hurt coming off of him, tingeing his scent and making it into something mournful and awful. He stares at you for a long time. “You made me think you’d lost it,” he eventually whispers. “How could you do that to me?”
You shake your head. “I’m sorry.” 
“No you’re not. You’re just sorry that I found you.”
“I saw you kill people, James!” you cry. “I saw who you really are. I couldn’t stay. Not after that.”
His mouth ticks up at the corners. “Oh, Sweetheart. You’ve got no idea who I am, or what I’ve done for you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
His eyes gleam and he lifts his drink, tipping back the last of it. “Do you even remember where we met?” 
You frown. “Of course.” You’d met him on a yacht, off the coast of Greece. At a party you’d been paid to attend as one of a flock of similarly hired ‘pretty girls’. Five hundred bucks just to sit around and drink cocktails for a few hours and make whoever owned the yacht look like a successful playboy. James had taken one look at you and made it his mission to charm you off of that boat with him. And you’d fallen for it, hook line and sinker. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“You don’t know as much as you think you do,” he says disdainfully. “Don’t know how lucky you really are. I saved you.”
You scoff. “You’re no different from those boat guys. You think you’re so special, God’s gift to omegas, I get it.”
“No,” he grits. “You really don’t.”
“Don’t tell me what I don’t know! I know what I saw. All over the floor of your goddamn office. I slipped in it for Christ’s sake!”
“Right, right. The men you saw me kill,” he says, referencing the scene you’d walked in on just before you’d faked your miscarriage and fled. “You were eavesdropping outside the door, weren’t you, Little thief?”
You jut your chin out. “Yes. So what?” 
“You know, I’d always assumed you heard the entire conversation. Now I realize I was wrong.” 
“What?”
He laughs under his breath—at your expense, you suspect. “Who exactly do you think they were?”
“Your business associates. The same sort of underworld, black market scum as you. Only they didn't work for you. You screwed them over and they were there to collect what you owed them, and you murdered them instead.”
James scoffs and smiles angrily, sticking his tongue into his cheek as he looks away in frustration. "Figures," he mutters.
“What?” you snap. “You’re gonna deny it?”
“I’m not denying anything. But I killed them for you.”
“Oh please. Just stop it. Stop lying! I know what you do for work.” 
Granted, you'd been a little slow on the uptake back then, too enamored and swept up in the whirlwind romance with your first Alpha that you hadn’t ever stopped to wonder where his money came from, or where it was he jetted off to “on business” every few days. It’d taken a year for you to piece it together, to see the true magnitude of the enterprise he ran, and how dark it really was.
Sitting in front of you now, he doesn’t deny it, which only bolsters your disdain for him. “I don’t want that in my life,” you hiss. “Arms dealing, drugs, smuggling, mercenaries. And apparently human trafficking as well.”
His eyes flash. “They don’t call it that, you know. It’s called the ‘skin trade’.”
“I don’t care.”
He gets up to go pour himself another drink at the bar. “Right,” he snaps, like you’re an idiot. “You’re so fucking naïve, krasotka [pretty (n.)]. So convinced that I’m the devil. But you have no idea how much worse it could’ve been for you.”
“You threatened to sell your own daughter before you figured out she was yours!”
Refusing to be provoked, he returns to stand right in front of you, forcing you to look up at him towering over you. “I knew she was mine from the second I walked in that house,” he says, making your breath catch. 
“How?”
He smiles nastily and takes a sip from his drink, then sets it aside. He leans over you with his hands on the back of your seat, caging you in. You can smell the expensive alcohol on his breath as he gets in your face and tells you, “I put that baby in you, moya omegya. She’s a part of me. You think I wouldn’t be able to figure that out? Think an Alpha doesn’t know the scent of his own flesh and blood?”
You tense, fighting not to shrink away. “You’re making that up.”
He chuckles lowly and puts his face right next to yours, cheek to cheek, savoring your reaction. “Sweetheart,” he purrs, “I may not have forced a mating bite on you back then like I should have, but there are other ways to leave your mark on someone.” He dips in to kiss your neck, right over your unbitten glands. “I found you by your scent,” he whispers. “Sniffed you out.”
You shiver at his hot breath on your skin and the deadly soft tone of his voice. The way your body responds to him isn’t anything you can control, and he knows that, but it still makes you flush with embarrassment when he takes a deep inhale in the bend of your neck and hums with satisfaction when he smells the effect he’s had on you. “I wouldn’t have sold her anyway,” he tells you, pulling back and picking up his drink. “I want you to know that. I don’t participate in the skin trade.”
You swallow thickly, watching him watch you as he waits for you to react to him in some way. You don’t know why you believe him about this one thing, but you do. “But you’re aware of it,” you say. “You know it happens, and you don’t do anything to stop it.”
His jaw works in frustration. “I’ve interfered a time or two, when I could get away with it.”
“Well, aren't you a hero.”
“I didn’t say that,” he snaps. “I said I’ve done what little I could. These men make a lot of money dealing in omegas, and they don’t take kindly to being stolen from.”
“I can imagine.”
“No,” he mutters into his drink. “You really can’t.”
There’s something oddly bitter in his tone, like he's working hard not to tell you something. You bite your lip and watch him for a minute. “... How much?” you ask.
“What?” His eyes darken when he figures out what you’re asking. “No.”
“Tell me.”
“It depends,” he grits, glaring at you. "Now cut it out."
Sober, you might have; but half a vodka spritzer after nineteen months of no alcohol has you bolder than you usually would be. You look down at yourself, feigning flippancy. “Well what about me? How much would I go for?”
“Kotenok,” he warns lowly, growling when you continue to press him with a snotty little, 
“Come on, I thought you were such a dangerous criminal? You can’t even discuss a little human trafficking with the weak omega you just trafficked?” 
He probably knows you’re trying to antagonize him, but he still rises to the bait. He sits back and lets his eyes drag over your body in a way that makes your pulse pick up. “Well,” he drawls, “you just had a baby. So that’s less right there.” Your nostrils flare angrily and he gives you a look. “You’re the one who asked,” he reminds, waiting until you give him a nod to continue. He gives you another onceover, this time lingering in certain places longer, a softer look in his eyes for the softer parts of your body. He almost seems to get distracted. He catches himself overindulging and looks away, like it’s hurting him to consider you this way. “Most people want their omegas untouched,” he says quietly. “Especially if the buyer's alpha, which they usually are. It’s an instinctual thing for us. We’re very driven to possess. We don’t like to share.”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” you mutter.
His gaze snaps back to you, a painful amount of familiarity in his eyes. “You’dve been a couple million, back when we first met.”
Your eyes widen. You weren't expecting that. “But … I wasn’t even a virgin.”
He arches an eyebrow. “I said untouched, not virginal. Not in that way. Alpha buyers want unbonded and never bred, first and foremost.” He leers at you. “Not that there aren’t some who’ll pay a little extra to pop a girl’s cherry. But that’s not the main thing they’re looking for, when they buy.” 
You scowl. “Right. So I guess I’m damaged goods now."
“Oh no, mamochka,” he says seriously. “You’ve only gone up in value in my eyes. Though believe me when I say I’m more than happy to contribute to the depletion of your market value." He raises his glass to his lips, looking darkly pleased. “You’re not for sale, and you never will be. You’re mine.”
You're embarrassed to be the one to break eye contact first, but you can’t keep listening to him talk about how much he likes you and watching him look at you like you’re his most prized possession. With any other man you’d just be disgusted, but James has always had a knack for getting you flustered, and he knows it. There’s always been an inexplicable pull between the two of you, and he knows that, too. It’s the main reason why you've always refused his attempts to bond you. You're terrified of what it’ll be like after, since you already know how pathetically helpless you are around him without a bond.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” you mumble quietly. “Where is it?” 
“Just down there.” He nods in the direction behind you, opposite from where Steve had gone with June.
You press your lips together and get up without looking at him, but you can feel his eyes on you the entire time you’re walking away.
“Don’t take too long in there, kotenok,” he purrs from back in his seat. “Or I’ll have to come in after you.”
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In the bathroom, you splash water on your face and lean against the sink, looking at the girl staring back at you in the mirror. You blink, and she blinks, but it feels like you’re looking at another person, someone you don’t know. She looks fragile. Tired, and dazed. June’s been sleeping through the night for months, but it’s been a hell of a day.
You scrutinize your reflection, smoothing your dress and tucking your hair behind your ears, thinking about how you have zero makeup on. Then you scoff at yourself for caring what you look like in front of him. You think about how much you’ve changed in the seventeen months since you ran away. Not just physically, but mentally. You’ve had to be so strong. For June, for yourself. It’s been awful, and lonely, and you’ve hated yourself for not being able to stop missing him. 
You sniffle and splash more water on your face, grumpily thinking that postpartum hormones are so much worse than the pregnancy ones. You grab the towel off the wall, but freeze when you bring it up to pat your face dry and get a smell of it.
Oh.
You whimper, unable to keep from pressing it harder to your mouth and nose and inhaling deeply. It’s James’ scent, and it smells so good. It smells like Safety and Love and Alpha. You hear the sound of your own, needy mewl and you gasp, yanking the towel away from your face and tossing it into the sink, trying to keep your shit together. You brace your hands on the counter and glare at your reflection to tell her to stop it, stop it, stop it, but all it takes is seeing your lower lip quiver, and soon your entire face is collapsing in long-repressed sadness. You turn away from the mirror with a pathetic noise, throat aching from the urge to keen. 
Why does this have to be happening?! You’ve tried so hard, for so long. To be strong for June, to get over him, to move on! You bury your face in your hands and choke on a wrenching sob. You know you have to be quiet, have to stop, have to pull yourself together before he—
A soft knock comes from outside the bathroom. ��Doll?”
You whine and hastily search for a lock on the door, but there is none, and James hears your crying and pulls the door open. “Honey,” he mourns when he sees you. “What’s wrong?” 
You push past him, hurrying in the direction he isn’t blocking. “Leave me alone!” you cry, hating the blubbering in your voice that makes you sound just as weak as James thinks you are. You arrive in a perfectly made up bedroom with no point of egress other than the one you arrived through. You whine in distress, circle around helplessly, and then throw yourself onto the bed when he arrives at the doorway looking worried. “Leave me alone!” you cry, curling onto your side and pulling one of the pillows down to bury your face in. At least it isn’t suffused with James’ scent. You still cry though, unable to keep it in anymore now that you’ve started.
He tuts sadly from the doorway and comes into the room slowly. He stands there for a long minute, silent, before he sighs and his weight comes onto the bed. “Sweetheart,” he says.
“Just leave me alone,” you whine miserably. “Go away!”
“Shh sh sh.” He curls up behind you, arms around your waist and legs pushing in behind yours. He kisses your shoulder and hugs you, but it only makes you cry harder at how achingly familiar it is. “It’s okay,” he murmurs between kisses. He doesn’t try to get you to stop crying, or ask you what’s wrong. He seems to know exactly why you’re breaking down, and he simply devotes all his efforts to helping you calm down in your own time. “S’okay, s’okay. Everything’s gonna be okay,” he keeps saying, soothing you with a deep rumble in his chest. “I’ve got you, Sweetheart. I’ve got you now. It’s all gonna be okay. Shhh.”
At first, his placating makes you angry, but not enough to stop your crying, and once that tapers off from sobs to quiet, sniffling tears, you can’t seem to dredge up the anger anymore. It isn’t there. 
“You feeling a little better?” he asks kindly, gently tucking your hair behind your ear and then hugging you again.
You whine when you feel his lips against your neck. “I’m fine,” you rasp, voice coming out scratchy from all of the crying. You cringe and scrub your face into the pillow in embarrassment. “Just got a little sad.”
“Yeah,” he agrees quietly, giving you a supportive squeeze. “That’s okay.”
You hate how he says it, because it’s obvious that he knows why you were crying: Poor, sad little omega, bawling her eyes out over how much she’s missed her Alpha. He nuzzles into your neck, telling you it’s okay and that you’re allowed to cry. As much as you hate him being able to see into you so easily, you’re just grateful that he isn’t rubbing your face in it right now. The way he's holding you and comforting you feels good. You don’t fight to get away from him.
The two of you lie there together for what feels like a long time. Once you’ve stopped crying and are only giving the occasional sniffle for your runny nose, he goes back to running his hand over your side. It’s a gesture of comfort. He’s not groping you, but even still, you blush at the vulnerability of it. You find yourself glad that you’re facing away from him. 
The plane shifts noticeably, and James’ hand pauses on your hip. “Pilot said we’re landing soon,” he murmurs. “Should probably go and get pchelka up.”
You sniffle and fight off the urge of resurfacing tears at hearing him reference June. One day of knowing his daughter and already he’s got a nickname for her. You should be annoyed by that, but instead it just makes your heart squeeze with emotion. “Pchelka,” you whisper, trying out the word. 
“Yeah.” He hums happily and kisses your shoulder one last time. “Little bee. Come on. Let’s go.”
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You don’t think about how it’s far too soon to have arrived at your destination, until you’re back in the main room of the cabin on the way to where Steve disappeared with June, earlier. You pause at the windows, peering out at the landscape. “This isn’t Russia,” you say, confused. The plane is definitely descending, but you’ve only been in the air for a few hours at most. “James?” you ask, as he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. Together, you both look out at the looming mountains and turquoise waters below. “Where are we?” you breathe.
James rests his chin on your shoulder and sighs happily. “Home,” he says. “We’re home.”
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A.N.: See? Much less Rapey! Plenty more mega-dub con to come though, so don't you angst-lovers worry. Thanks for reading!💖Sarah
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edenesth · 8 months
Text
The Way to His Heart [9]
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Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 4.2k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 8 | Fic Masterlist | Part 10
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Standing in front of the door to your former prison, all your insecurities came rushing back. Suddenly, your newfound identity seemed to evaporate, leaving you feeling like nothing more than a shell of your past self.
"What's wrong, my dear? Why do you keep staring at this storeroom, hm? You know you can tell me anything." Seonghwa asked in a gentle voice, sensing that you were far from okay. He cupped your cheek tenderly, urging you to meet his gaze.
Jongho and Eunsook stood anxiously behind you, waiting for you to reveal the truth to the general. Only then could they finally bring your family to justice for their misdeeds. The weight of everyone's expectations rested on your shoulders.
Please, mistress, just say it, and we will handle the rest.
No matter how hard your husband tried to capture your attention, all you could see was beyond his shoulder, where your family glowered at you. All the determination you had to confront your family diminished, and you were reminded of your true self.
Just a worthless, insignificant piece.
You felt undeserving of Seonghwa's love, too ashamed to confess that this pitiful excuse for a room was where you had spent your entire caged childhood. Would he still want you as his wife if he discovered the truth?
"Come on, my dear. Talk to me, please." The general leaned in, attempting to dominate your field of vision. He didn't like how you kept glancing nervously back at your family as if still afraid of what they could do to you.
Your husband's heart shattered as he gazed once more into your vacant, hopeless eyes. It felt as if he could never truly connect with you. Once again, he found himself lost, unable to reach you. It became clear that your biggest obstacle wasn't trusting him; it was trusting yourself. Despite all his efforts, your insecurities persisted.
Bringing you back to this place seemed like a colossal mistake, undoing all the progress you had made. The words Hongjoong had spoken to you were now pushed to the recesses of your mind, overshadowed by your demons.
Seonghwa's stomach sank when you averted your gaze, blinking your wet eyes with a shake of your head, "Nothing, it's nothing. I... I'm sorry, I don't know why I kept looking here; it's just an old storeroom, as you can see." Your family collectively sighed in relief, narrowly avoiding exposure. For once, they felt slightly thankful to you for not ratting them out.
Of course, it couldn't have been this easy.
Despite the internal frustration, the general flashed a reassuring smile down at you. His plan had crumbled, and you didn't speak up as he had hoped. The head maid and assistant couldn't conceal their disappointment at the missed opportunity.
Casting a glance at his assistant to silently acknowledge the failure of the plan, he squeezed your trembling hand, "It's alright, nothing to be sorry about. Well, if that is all, perhaps we can begin discussing the wedding arrangements then."
Minister Jang immediately brightened, "Of course, let us get on with it. I'm sure we have much to discuss."
With a subtle shake of his head, Jongho signalled to the private investigator that the plan wasn't unfolding as expected. Noticing the exchanged glances, your father raised an eyebrow, "Wooyoung, do you and the general's assistant know each other?"
Both froze momentarily, cursing inwardly at their lack of caution. The fake servant beamed innocently at the minister, "Oh yes, master! I thought he looked familiar; turns out we were from the same village!"
The assistant nodded along quickly with a wide smile, "Yes, what a small world."
Fortunately, the fabricated story seemed convincing, and your father nodded without suspicion, "Huh, what are the odds? Just don't let me catch you slacking off. If you want to catch up, do it after work."
Wooyoung grinned quickly, "Yes, master!" before bowing deeply. Glancing at the general for approval, he was relieved to see Seonghwa nodding lightly, silently expressing 'good job'. His heart raced, still finding it surreal that he was looking at his role model up close and being acknowledged.
Resettling into the main hall, your husband couldn't hide his concern for you. He maintained a firm grip on your hand, a constant reminder of his presence and an attempt to provide comfort despite your lack of reaction to anything. Eunsook, noting your distress, made a point to stay close behind you, silently assuring you of her support.
"Alright then, where should we begin?" Minister Jang clapped his hands together, eager to get it all over with as soon as possible.
Seated opposite you, your three sisters were still seething, their attention fixed on the general's unwavering touch on you. Refusing to concede defeat, they were determined to fight for Seonghwa, unwilling to witness you marrying their dream man in a grand wedding ceremony. He was too good for you.
She doesn't deserve him.
Before the two men could delve into any details, Jinhee, tired of her sisters always being a step ahead, seized the opportunity to speak up, "General Park, I believe I would make a better wife than unnie ever could. I urge you to change your mind and consider choosing me."
Jinah and Jinjoo scowled, feeling a sense of betrayal as they hadn't anticipated the sudden spiritedness from their middle sister. She had always been the calmest among the three. It appeared that the allure of the general was potent enough to pit them against each other for the first time.
The minister smacked a hand on his face in disbelief, growing tired of his stepdaughter's obnoxious behaviour. Just as he opened his mouth to reprimand her, the other two chimed in loudly, "No, I'd make a better wife!" before glaring at each other.
Pressing a kiss onto your knuckles to rile them up, your husband stared at the girls with an amused grin, "Really? Do you think you'd make a better wife? Why don't you each tell me why you think so? I'll consider it."
It was apparent that the general was merely toying with them, but the three were oblivious and engaged in a heated debate among themselves, striving to convince Seonghwa that each of them would make the ideal wife for him.
Meanwhile, you silently accepted your fate, believing that your husband was present to entertain the idea of replacing you with one of your stepsisters. If that's what he desired, who were you to object? You considered yourself fortunate to have been sent to him, and now that he had seen your sisters, perhaps he sought someone better than your useless self.
The general burst into a fit of vicious laughter, singling out the middle sister who promptly straightened up, "You," he pointed, "it seems like you have the most convincing argument. I suppose that makes you the most suitable for me, doesn't it?"
Jinhee vigorously nodded, "Yes, my lord!"
With a sly smile, he continued, "Very well, I'll consider marrying you, but on one condition that your father must agree to," Her eyes widened in excitement while her sisters clenched their fists in frustration, dissatisfied with her being chosen, "Anything! Just name it, and you shall have it!"
"If Minister Jang agrees to retire from his position and let me take over, then I guess I'll think about it."
Your father heaved a deep sigh, frowning at the foolish girl in irritation, "That's enough, Jinhee. Are you even hearing yourself? None of that will ever happen. I'm sure the general is only joking around."
Her stubbornness prevailed as she continued to press, "Father, this is for my happiness! If you loved me, you would agree to that!"
Even her own mother, finally sober enough, shook her head disapprovingly, "Stop it, Jinhee. Do you know what it would mean for the rest of us if your father were to retire?"
Having enjoyed the comedic display, Seonghwa chuckled darkly, "Your father's right; I was only playing with you. After all, I couldn't possibly marry you, even if he had agreed to that condition."
"Why is that?!" She questioned, still determined to have him for herself. She hated the sight of him cradling your hand; it should be her beside him. She had gotten so close to having him earlier that she refused to let the opportunity slip away so quickly.
For some reason, the minister couldn't shake off the ominous feeling he was getting from your husband's smugness. Something wasn't right; this felt oddly like a trap.
In a mock-innocent voice, the general answered, "Isn't it simple? Because you're not even Minister Jang's legitimate daughter; you do realise you're merely his stepdaughter, right?"
Your father and stepmother's eyes immediately widened, knowing exactly where this was going. Before they could do anything to stop it, Jinhee yelled out, "But I am father's real daughter!"
Gotcha, bitch.
Jongho and Eunsook did their best to suppress the growing grins on their faces, relieved that at least their master's plan B seemed to have worked out. During the assistant's time away from the estate, working with Wooyoung, they had managed to confirm the general's suspicions about the three being Minister Jang's actual daughters.
This revelation itself was enough to bring him down, as the three were born when your mother was still alive. And if they were, in fact, his, that would mean he had been disloyal to his wife and had fathered bastard children outside. This was more than enough to tarnish his reputation for good.
Rising abruptly from his seat, the minister cleared his throat loudly, "General Park, please don't take her words seriously. Clearly, she only said that out of desperation. The girl is still young and doesn't know when to stop; do not mind her. Come, let us take our discussion somewhere else."
"Save it, minister. If she isn't your daughter, where would she have gotten the confidence to voice that out loud? Don't make me laugh." Seonghwa retorted coldly.
Finally, you lifted your head to stare at the old man upon hearing the revelation. Could it be true? You didn't know if it was supposed to make you feel any better, but you used to question why your father had treated you so badly when you were his only real daughter. Now, it would make more sense, at least.
Scoffing, Minister Jang clenched his fists, "I would advise you to be careful with your words, general. After all, it wouldn't be too wise of you to slander your father-in-law and superior so carelessly like that. What would His Majesty think of you being unfilial and disrespectful to me?"
If your father thought that threat could save him, he was wrong; it seemed he was only digging himself a deeper grave.
The general peered amusingly at him through his lashes, "You know, it's really funny you should say that. Would it still be considered slander if I had evidence to back up my claims? Oh, minister, you should not have brought the King into this. He was already so disappointed in you when he learned of the truth about you and your dirty deeds throughout the years."
"Wh-what do you mean by that?" The minister stammered, visibly trembling in his spot, and his family could only sit back with terror in their eyes, not knowing what your husband had uncovered.
"Minister Jang, did you really think the King had allowed me to come here just to make wedding arrangements with you? I'd rather burn in hell than have you host my wedding, especially after what you had done to my wife in all the years she had been under your care. I'm only here for your confession, under His Majesty's orders."
A series of gasps rang across the hall as your stepmother and stepsisters froze in their seats, the realisation finally hitting them that they had been under scrutiny this whole time. It became apparent since the minister's suspicious behaviour at the assembly.
Little did everyone know that Seonghwa's investigative work had been funded by the King himself the entire time. The two had shared a deep conversation after the assembly; what initially started off as idle chatter regarding the general's new wife transitioned into a serious discussion as your husband revealed what he discovered about the minister thanks to your arrival.
Your eyes widened at Seonghwa's words, wondering if he had known all along about what had happened to you. Feeling your gaze on him, he turned to face you with a soft smile, "I told you I'd protect you."
Feeling your heart flutter and eyes tearing up with tears of relief, you finally squeezed his hand back, "Thank you, Seonghwa."
Cutting your moment short, your father shook his head in denial, "You're lying. Nice try, General Park. I'm not falling for your trick. If you were telling the truth, why would His Majesty have bothered to send you here when he could have just arrested me?"
Turning back to face the old man, your husband smirked, "Now, where would all the fun be in that? Of course, I didn't expect you to admit everything to me so easily. It was fun watching all of you panic in front of the so-called storeroom earlier. I hope you enjoyed the temporary relief, courtesy of my lovely wife. Someone, bring the minister a chair before we start recounting all the interesting things he's done so far."
Jongho was more than happy to help, "Yes, sir!" He promptly moved a chair to the centre of the hall where the minister stood before returning to his position behind his master.
Your stepmother and stepsisters remained glued to their seats, hearts filled with dread. Jinhee regretted her every action immediately, not that it made much difference. They were already doomed from the moment they delivered you to him.
"Will you not sit, Minister Jang?" Seonghwa teased, and when the old man glared at him, he shrugged, unbothered, "Suit yourself. Let us begin then."
The general stretched a waiting hand in his assistant's direction and waited as the younger man fished a few documents out from his pockets, "Here you go, sir."
"Alright, let's see, where should we start?"
With a devilish grin, your husband flipped through the pages, addressing the minister, "So, were you denying that these three are your biological daughters? Not to worry, I have just the thing to prove it. See, we have their birth certificates and the fake ones you forged right here. You bribed your physician quite a bit for these, huh? Well, it seems the amount you paid was not nearly enough since he spilt everything to us so easily."
The minister's wife pointed a shaky finger at the papers in Seonghwa's hands, "Th-that's not possible. How did you get your hands on those documents?"
"Ah, so you admit these are yours?" The general raised a brow, "I get it; it's hard not to when the only copies to exist were found in your private quarters, hm? I'll have precious Wooyoung to thank for these. Come here, boy. You should be so proud of yourself."
"Thank you, my lord! I'll work harder!"
In front of the minister and his family, the mole finally unveiled himself. All five of them could only gape at the new employee who had recently joined the estate. They praised him for his work and even thought of him as a hard worker. Suddenly, it all made sense why he always seemed too eager to help around. He had been snooping around for the enemy all along.
Your father pointed accusingly at the fake staff member of his estate, "Y-you traitor—"
"How can he be a traitor when he was never on your side to begin with? Let's not change the subject, alright? Now, let us conclude the number of crimes you've committed here; first, you've cheated on your wife and had not only one but three illegitimate children outside of your home. I must say, minister, you're setting a horrible example for the married men in all of Joseon." Seonghwa shook his head in disapproval.
"Next, you've bribed your physician to silence him and then get him to further commit the crime of forging official documents for you. I guess this could have been understandable if it had been a silly little commoner not knowing any better, but my goodness, you are our nation's Minister of Military Affairs! What would the people think of us if they knew their leaders were this unethical?"
"And the worst of it all, you kept my wife caged in that pathetic excuse of a room all her life. You all had a hand in her suffering and abused her endlessly, all for your own entertainment. And what had she done that was so wrong to deserve any of that? Just because she was born from the wife you did not choose and love?" The general spat, feeling his heart ache and anger rise.
It was your turn to rub a thumb softly over his skin to remind him that you were fine now; you were loved and cared for, all because of him. He tightened his hold on your hand, vowing to get you justice.
"Can any of you even call yourselves human?" He growled, glaring at your family. Your stepsisters trembled, avoiding his death stare, feeling like complete idiots, especially after their stupid little innocent act earlier. Why did they even believe for a second that they could have fooled him?
With a deep breath, Seonghwa put on a sarcastic smile, "And with all of that, it should be enough for you to be stripped of your title and for your entire family to be demoted from a noble house to commoners."
The old man's knees went weak, and he ended up plopping into the chair Jongho had placed behind him. Clenching his fists, he shook his head again, "No, you can't do this to us. You can't do this to me. I've dedicated my life to this job and this country. I have contributed so much—"
Smirking, the general cut him off, "Why? Are you unsatisfied with this conclusion? I expected no less from you, you ungrateful bastard. Fine, I guess we'll have no choice but to dive deeper and talk about your most severe crime then."
There's... more?
Furrowing your brows, you wondered what other horrible things your father could have possibly done. Everything that your husband had already listed seemed like a lot to you.
Your stepmother gasped loudly, clutching onto her chest as she took in the general's wicked grin, "He knows..."
Jinah frowned, grabbing her mother's arm in confusion, "What is it? What does he know? What else has father done?" The other two sisters stared at their parents, who looked scared for their lives.
"Yes, I do know, Lady Jang. Did you really think the two of you could keep your dirty little secret hidden forever? As if adultery and illegal document forgery weren't bad enough, you were both audacious enough to commit murder against an innocent person."
Minister Jang and his wife shared a horrified glance, realising that the veil of secrecy they had meticulously woven was now unravelling before them. The colour drained from their faces, and beads of sweat formed on their foreheads.
The mistress of the Jang estate stammered in fear, "N-no, that's not true! You're making baseless accusations, General Park. We haven't committed any murder!"
The general remained unfazed, a cold stare fixed upon them, "Really? You haven't? Then tell me, why do the two of you seem so afraid? You weren't trembling with fear when you poisoned the first Lady Jang to death, and you certainly weren't afraid when you robbed my wife of her mother."
Staring at your father and stepmother in horror, a wave of disbelief crashed over you. The revelation hit like a tidal wave, leaving you stunned and paralysed. The people you thought were simply cruel for torturing you all your life had now revealed a more sinister truth – they were the reason you never knew your own mother.
The shock and betrayal etched across your face, your eyes locked onto theirs as the weight of their sins settled in. It wasn't just about the abuse and mistreatment; they had orchestrated a tragedy that deprived you of the one person who could have brought warmth and love into your life.
"And what evidence do you have to prove that?" The minister finally mustered the courage to challenge the accusations, still putting up a fight. His three daughters, nearly as shocked as you were by the revelation, couldn't fathom that their parents might have actually taken someone's life.
Seonghwa remained unyielding, maintaining his cold gaze, "Not to worry, I have it all right here." He gestured to the documents Wooyoung held, revealing a series of letters exchanged between the couple all those years ago detailing the best way to end someone's life and make it look like a natural death, as though they had succumbed to an ordinary illness.
"Isn't it an uncanny coincidence that the physician confessed to the first Lady Jang dying from mandrake poisoning, and simultaneously, there is an abundance of mandrake planted in your garden? Alongside these incriminating letters, everything aligns seamlessly. There's nothing you can say to undermine this evidence, minister. Would you care to explain your actions now?"
Minister Jang's face contorted with defiance and anger. He took a deep breath before finally admitting, "Fine, it's true. I did it; I killed that woman. But you have to understand; the first Lady Jang ruined my life. I never wanted to marry her in the first place. It was a political arrangement forced upon me to please her influential family. They held more power than I did at the time."
His eyes darted around, gauging the reactions of those present, especially his daughters, "I clawed my way up, working tirelessly to reach my position as Minister of Military Affairs. I didn't need her family anymore. So, I did her a favour – I ended her unhappy marriage and made room for the person I truly loved."
He looked at his current wife with a twisted sense of affection, completely ignoring the horrified expressions around him, "I had to make a choice for my own happiness. No one understands the sacrifices I've made for this family and for the sake of my love. It was the only way."
"If you hated my mother so much, why did you bother having me then?" You finally croaked, voice breaking as you choked back tears. Seonghwa pulled you close to him, never wanting you to go through any more pain alone.
Your father let out a scoff of displeasure, "I never wanted you. You were just another duty to please your mother's family. When she died, I refused to let any of them near you out of spite. You were a constant reminder of her, a spitting image that angered me every time I looked at you. That's why I hated you so much."
His admission hung heavily in the air, each word cutting through the silence like a knife. Your eyes, filled with sorrow, met his cold, callous gaze. Your husband tightened his hold on you, offering silent comfort as the painful truth unravelled.
"And there we have it, the confession His Majesty wanted. Royal Secretary Choi, did you manage to get all of that?" The general called out with a smirk.
To the minister's horror, the King's closest and most trusted aide emerged from the entrance, flanked by a team of royal guards, "I sure did, General Park. You've done well; we'll take it from here. His Majesty shall decide the Jang family's final sentencing."
« Preview of Part 10 »
As Eunsook followed her master's orders to assist you out of the hall and to the waiting carriage at once, your husband stayed behind to express gratitude to the dedicated private investigator.
"You've worked hard, Wooyoung. I assure you we will compensate you for your excellent performance. You didn't have to help us this far, but you did, and I appreciate it."
The younger man enthusiastically bowed, "It's my pleasure, sir! I'm a huge fan of yours; I think people don't appreciate you enough for defending our country! Those who think you are heartless are clearly mistaken. If only they'd seen you today. You are a wonderful husband, my lord. It's reassuring to know Lady Park has you."
Clearing his throat, the general looked away and fought the faint blush dusting his cheeks, "I'm glad you think so. I can only hope she thinks the same."
Wooyoung grinned, "I'm sure she does, my lord. I've seen how Lady Park looks at you; I can tell you mean a lot to her too," Seeing Jongho approaching to escort his master out, the informant bowed one final time, "It was an honour working for you, sir. Please don't hesitate to reach out if you ever need my services again!"
Seonghwa nodded appreciatively, "I'll keep that in mind."
Just as he turned to leave, the royal secretary came up to him, "Before you go, General Park, His Majesty wishes to meet you and Lady Park soon to discuss your actual wedding arrangements."
Nodding lightly, the general replied, "Got it, I'll see you then."
"Oh, and one last thing; I know you've both been through a lot, but the worst is over. I wish you and your wife happiness."
"Thank you, San."
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Y'all I'm not even gonna lie, this part literally gave me a whole ass headache LMFAO I hope this felt satisfying enough! Of course, we still don't know what consequences the evil family are about to suffer muahaha😈
Also, the second mood board depicting the general's estate is out! Go take a look if you haven't already!
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
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pholla-jm · 8 months
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Red String
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IMAGINE: RED STRING ~ LUFFY X READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: soulmate au! luffy is a bit ooc. *************
The day when a red string attached itself to his left pinky, he didn’t really care for it. Luffy didn’t have time for finding his soulmate, or even having time for a soulmate. He had a mission- to become the King of the pirates.
Most of the time he ignored it. However, when he was bored he would tug on the string, swing it around, or try to tie it to things. Sometimes he would get annoyed that the string wouldn’t come off. 
Most days, he doesn’t even realize that it’s there. 
Until one day, the string tugged, and tugged hard. Tugged so hard that it jerked his hand downwards. 
This has never happened before, and he was confused as to why it happened. What did it mean? 
“You ready, captain?” His crewmate, Robin asks him. 
He looked up at her, noticing that she was holding a bag on her shoulder. That’s right, they were leaving the ship. Going on an adventure on this new island. 
Excitement fills his veins, and he only takes one glance at his left pinky before looking back at Robin with a large grin. The red string is now long forgotten and he is not worried by the slight movement. 
However, Robin notices the glance that Luffy casts down at his hand. Robin is smart, and it didn’t take her long to figure out what he was looking at. She has seen Luffy play with the string multiple times. Granted, she couldn’t see the string but it sure looked strange whenever he played with air. 
“Yeah! Let’s go!” He shouts before he jumps off the ship. 
It isn’t long until the both of them were walking through town, looking for food since his stomach was rumbling. 
Suddenly he got a whiff of something delicious. It smelled warm and sweet, he was immediately drawn to the source of the smell. 
Luffy was soon standing in front of a small building. The windows were open, and it was clear that the source of the smell was coming from the small building. He bursts through the doors, ready to devour it all. 
However, he stops short when he goes through those doors. The string on his pinky felt tighter and it was like his sight zeroed in on the person in front of him. 
The person who’s hair was tied up, and out of the way. Wearing an apron over simple clothes that were lightly dusted with flour. 
“Hi, welcome-” Your voice stops when you feel the tug on your pinky and your vision zeroes in on him.
You already knew what this meant, but for some reason this made you nervous. 
You cough slightly, trying to ease any nerves that coursed through your body. 
“Welcome, how can I help you today?” 
Luffy blinks a couple of times, processing the words that you had just said. He didn’t know what to do in this situation. How were you going to react? 
Robin tilts her head, looking at the two of you. A small smile makes a way on her face as she realizes what is happening.
“Can we have two of everything, please?” She spoke up and you were taken back. “Two of everything?” “Yes please.” 
“Right! Of course.” You walk around the counter, starting to grab the pastries. “Oh, togo or for here?” 
“Here, please.” Robin says with a smile and pushes Luffy over to one of the two tops. “Of, course. It’ll be out shortly.” “Thank you.” 
“Are you okay, Captain?” Robin asks. “Huh? Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?” Robin giggles, “well if I didn’t know better. I would say that person over there… is your soulmate.” 
Luffy’s eyes widen, and a slight blush covers his ears. Was he being that obvious? 
“Here we go. Two of everything.” Their conversation is interrupted when you bring them their desired pastries.
You lingered by the table, unsure of what to do. Should you say something? Make the first move? No, that’s too embarrassing. 
“Uh, I hope you enjoy.” You mutter before scurrying to the back. You put a hand over your chest, trying to calm down your racing heart. Why were you so nervous? 
Well you knew why you were so nervous. You always wondered what your soulmate would be like. You wondered if he was a kind person. Would he even like you? 
You suddenly hear a shout. It wasn’t one of panic, but one of joy. 
You peek around the corner, “is everything okay?” slight worry traced in your voice. 
The boy looks at you with wide eyes and a large smile on his face, “these are so good!” He shouts holding up one of the pastries. 
You smile at him, “thank you.” “Did you make these yourself?” He asks. 
His question washes away the nervousness and you're soon making your way to him.  
“Yes! I made them myself. It’s my own recipe, and I have more recipes I’m working on as well.” You start to ramble on, a little embarrassed because you tend to fangirl over baking. “Can I try them?!” “Of course! I would be honored if you liked them.”
Luffy starts to laugh, happy that you were willing to give him more of your delicious pastries. 
However, it dawned on him that he wasn’t going to be staying on the island long. And he really wanted to try more of your food. 
“You should join my crew then!” “Huh? You’re crew?” “Yeah! I’m gonna be the king of the pirates!” 
You were silent for a while. Thinking about what you should do. You didn’t have any family on this island, and nothing wasn’t holding you back. Except for one thing, 
“Well… I’m not strong enough to join the future king of pirates.” Luffy’s smile falters a little bit. Sure he needed his crew to be strong, but he didn’t really care if you were strong or not. He just knew that he needed you by his side. 
It might be the fact that you were supposed to be soulmates, but the strong urge to have you by his side was just too strong.
“Don’t worry about that! You’ll always be safe on my crew.” 
His words caused your heart to skip a beat. You didn’t know him, but you trusted the words that came out of his mouth. “Yeah… yeah, okay! I’ll join.” 
Luffy’s grin is as big as ever now. 
“Can I have the name of the future king of the pirates?” “My name is Monkey D. Luffy.” “(l/n)(y/n). It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You say with a slight bow of your head. 
Luffy looks down at his pinky, seeing the red string now tied in a bow. He looks over to your hand, seeing the same thing. He never thought this day would come, but he is happy that it finally came.
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forthelostones · 2 months
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𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ➺ 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 #6
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anderson construction and landscaping had been parked outside your door since you returned home from university. as if the summer couldn't get any hotter, the business owner works overtime in your area. anderson is collecting new, loyal clients of your neighbors, cementing her permanence in your life for the next few months. what's to come of your girlish crush when she keeps showing up?
𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 18+ (mdni); age-gap, young!reader, older!abby, butch!abby, slow-burn, suggestive language, thoughts of infidelity, ellie ft, smoking/drinking, mentions of parents, nickname: sweetheart, and modern au.
𝚊𝚗. yall! life has been crazy. your girl is finally back. I'm so sorry I love you all for loving me. lets geeettt etttt. x (sorry for any typos omg)
♫ 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. lifeless by asal ♫
You were given an interview opportunity in exchange for your girlfriend's labor and loyalty to Anderson Construction. All of this had one redeemable quality which was Ms. Anderson. The woman continued to become more and more irresistible by the minute and Ellie was simply less tolerable. There was a looming guilt that you became familiar with since going to her house. Being in her presence felt like a blanket of security you’ve never gotten. You felt an understanding with Abby that Ellie couldn’t give you, which could be because Ms. Anderson was a mature woman. Her conversation about figuring it out and being young was simple enough, but coming from her it was more than just shitty advice. It was a bright light at the end of a never-ending tunnel. 
After leaving her place the other night, your good but anxious energy turned sour when you went to Ellie’s. The vibrations of a heavy bass rumbled under your feet making any positive energy you had deflate. She knew how unsettled her metal music made you and she expected you, so why was she doing this? You unlock the door with your key and unknowingly welcome in the scent of weed. It was forced onto you and you imagined it permeating the fibers of your clothes, leaving behind a stench.
“Ellie?” You holler. 
With the slam of the door, you dare to keep your shoes on and walk into the bedroom, as you didn’t plan on staying. She was sprawled over the bed with a joint between her lips, blowing a glowing nebulous bundle toward the ceiling. The expel of smoke made you ferociously hateful. You despised when she smoked inside allowing it to linger on for days. She knew you were coming and yet. She wore one of your night shirts with nothing underneath as her ankles hung off the edge of the mattress. 
“Ellie,” 
You walk over to the speaker and turn off the music, finally able to relax a bit.
“'m listening to that, baby.” She says, eyes hollow, pulling your shirt to her nose to smell the remnants of perfume. As she did, the dark mound between her legs revealed her ache. You flick on the lights, remove the joint from her fingers, and drop it into her ashtray, she didn’t protest. She squints and rubs her eyes to clear her cloudy vision.
“You called me over here because you were high out of your mind? I thought you wanted to talk?” 
“I do.” Her voice was weak with exhaustion.
She rolled onto her stomach to expose her pale ass then kicked her feet up behind her to trace shapes onto the wall. 
“So what? This couldn’t have been a phone call?” Your patience was running thin and seeing her partially naked body was making this even more difficult. You were pissed at her but it didn’t take away from the fact that she was attractive.
“Why are you so jumpy, sit down,” 
The timbre in her voice was buttery and warm, sliding between you two. So you did, you sat on the corner, keeping your distance from your minx. 
“I got high because I threw my back today, I’m in pain.” 
“I’m sorry, it just seemed as if it was all urgent. I was busy.” You say as she rolls to lay her head in your lap. Her eyes were pink, matching her wet mouth, which begged you to kiss it. You avoided doing so, knowing Ellie wouldn't stop and neither could you.
“Sure,” She slurred, making your cheeks turn hot. “What’s going on with us?” 
You look down into her eyes to see a broken girl. Someone you broke. A girl who lost every single person in her life and couldn’t take another loss. Which was one of the reasons you held on and thought that you could learn to love her again and even more the next time around.
“How do you mean?” You question but you know exactly what she means. Ellie wasn’t the brightest but she wasn’t completely stupid to your physical cues. She saw how much initiative you took during sex, something you never did before, she saw how avoidant you were, emotionally detached from her — it was time to be honest. 
“You’re changing and I don’t know how to keep up.” 
You loved Ellie, parts of her anyway, and seeing her laid in bed begging for something as simple as affection tore you into pieces. You brush a brassy strand away from her face.
“I know.” 
“Tell me what I need to do to make it better?” 
Your eyes widen at her, you certainly didn’t expect her to say that. It was the weed talking, she was delirious, horny, needing a temporary fix. 
“Can I think about it?” You ask, even though you’ve been thinking about it. 
“Sure you can. I know I can be an asshole and not understand you its just…”
When she sat up and crossed her legs under herself you don’t hesitate to rub her back painting small circles against the fabric of your shirt. She brings it back to her nose as if you were already gone.  
“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong here. In this relationship, it’s like I’m not good enough for you or something.” 
The soft girl before suddenly morphed into the woman you were familiar with. Her words became sharp and loud, ready to break out and stampede around the room, destroying everything in sight, even you.
“Did I ever say that?” you mutter gently.
“It’s so apparent that you don’t have to say anything. All you gotta do is look at me and that’s how I know.”
“What just happened, why are you—” 
“I’m blue collar trash to you and I always will be. I don’t have a family who has stocks and investments. I don’t have a college degree on that wall and I know you hate that, I know it devalues me.” 
“Ellie, none of that matters.” 
She stands up and walks to the door and leans against it as if she is holding in a grand secret. A pause falls between the two of you for a whole minute before Ellie inhales to speak. 
“When is the last time we had a proper date or actual good sex that wasn’t to just shut me up?” 
“Have you ever thought to ask me why some of those things aren’t happening?” 
“I’m asking you now,” 
You couldn’t form a sentence quickly enough at the last part of her sentence. You rise and walk towards her and she stops you with a weak hand up as she catches a breath. “You don’t ask me how I am, what I feel about moving hundreds of miles away from you, the only person I have. I don’t have what you have. Fuck, I wish I did but…” 
“El.” 
“Can you leave?” 
“What?”
“I want you to leave so I don’t say something I don’t regret.” 
“No, say it.” 
Your chests were pressed against each other, a taut heat emanating from the passing of words. Ellie looks into your eyes before bringing her mouth to yours and wrapping her hands around your waist. The kiss became salty with her tears slipping into the crease of your lip. She drops her head on your chest to slide to the floor breaking down.
“Baby?” You mutter. 
In an instant she looks up to you, on her knees, eyes wide with glistening pearls. Her mouth finds the inner corner of your thigh, then your belly, up to your clavicle where she sucks. 
“I need you.” She sighs into your skin. 
“Let’s talk.” 
If you never went there, you would have never been able to persuade Ellie to become Abby’s roofer. Everything was moving faster than you could’ve imagined. Now you sat in Ms. Anderson’s driveway waiting for the clock to hit 10:00 a.m. to enter for your interview. You see Abby open the shades where her living room is and the woman stuns you, even through the glass, and you can’t wait to get a closer glimpse. 
You raise your hand but before you can meet the door it swings open. Abby stands tall in a dark blue linen top falling just above her waist. Her thighs were bulging out of a pair of dark khaki pants. On her feet were a pair of sweet house shoes with small dogs on them. 
“Good morning, come on in.” She says in a deeper voice than usual. 
“Thank you, Ms. Anderson.” You grin. 
The summer wind filled with the scent of freshly clipped grass and sheets washed in Tide fell over you — intoxicating, you thought. 
“I brewed some coffee, I bought lavender syrup, that’s what the barista said is the most popular. Did you want some before we started?"
  “Yes ma’am, that would be great.” 
Abby looked nervous. Those round cheeks were more red than normal and she chewed on the corner of her thumb more than usual. It was cute. But why was she nervous, you wondered. You took your shoes off and stalked behind her into the kitchen where she learned against the counter to pour the warm coffee into a plain white mug. Her big hands pull a small bottle of purple syrup out of the cabinet and poured a bit into the steaming coffee. 
“So, I should start on your bedroom after this, I’m kind of excited.” She admitted, holding the cup out for you to grab. 
“I can say I am excited too. Not only for the reno but for this interview.” 
She pours herself a cup, no cream, no syrup and took a long gulp that looked like it burned. But afterwards she sighed as if it was refreshing. You followed her up to the office you sat in just days ago and watching her ass sway down the hallway was delightful. 
“Okay, so tell me about yourself and your previous experience with administrative business work.” 
You cross and uncross your legs before finally answering her bringing the mug to your lips slowly. You imagined her mouth on the same rim, sweet yet savory, plump and damp from the sips of coffee she took. You wanted to laugh in Ms. Anderson’s face because she had clearly seen your resume and it felt as if you two were both beyond the formalities. 
“College grad, great organizational skills, experience with numbers, and spreadsheets.” You say. 
“Well, that sounds good to me. What you can expect in those role is taking me on.” 
You choke slight as your snort a bit of coffee into your mouth. “Take you on?” 
Abby shook her head and grinned behind her fluffy cheeks. That smile was not subtle at all and you wanted to bask in it longer. Hearing her chuckle like this was music to your ears. 
“Sorry, I mean you’ll basically become me, you’re fulfilling the majority of my responsibilities.” 
“Meaning I will be trained well, that’s good.” You add. 
Abby pretends to scribble something down but it seemed like it was a ploy to avoid your lingering eyes. 
“Okay, I have some scenarios that I want to run through you with.” 
Her voice was neutral almost hiding a grin that you wanted to push the margins just to see it. You had several scenarios in your mind that you were running through and none of them were work appropriate. 
“If a client reaches out to you and is inconsolable, they are complaining about paying us fairly, late invoices—that kind of thing—what would be your first approach?” She brought the pen to her lips and bit gently on it. You imagined it was your index finger and the thought alone made you tingle. 
“I’m sure you and I will come together and handle it. I think it would be best suited to simply end the relationship and charge them for the products and labor we already put in.” 
Abby nodded silently as if she wasn’t impressed as she hid a trembling lip behind the rim of cup. 
“A lot of what I do is keeping all the moving parts organized and in line. Tell me about…” 
The interview lasted three hours because after the last two questions you two followed a tangent into an alleyway that was long and winding. You slid into comfortable conversation about how Abby got her start and what made her take this route. 
“Well, my granddad started the business back in our hometown that was small and pretty much you knew everyone. He’d go around laying down foundations for homes, building barns, and even a bit of landscaping. My dad had no interest in doing this shit and I don’t blame him. Went to medical school and never looked back but I guess it skipped him and came to me.” 
The way Abby’s eyes lit up made this all the more intriguing. She talked about her job with such fervor and passion, it was palpable. “You have clearly made a name for yourself.” 
“Well, that’s what I’m hoping. I’m old sweetheart and I need time to get back to a version of myself is sustainable. That’s why I’m hiring you.” 
“So, I got the job?” Your voice rises. 
On Abby’s couch you were spread so that you took up two cushions. When coffee turned into cocktails you knew it was lingering into dangerous territory. Ms. Anderson sat opposite of you and your feet were inches away from her legs that were spread widely. 
“I’m not sure what you put in this but its delicious.” 
You smacked your lips after nearly inhaling the tequila and berry mix that had no name and yet was calling yours. 
“I used to mix drinks at the college bar when I was younger so I know my way around a glass.” 
You were learning so much about her and wanted to probe more. Become consumed with the possibilities available with your new boss. You had to be cautious but you loved it. 
“You were doing city construction by day and a bartender at night? Damn.” 
When Abby stood up to walk over to the bookshelf, you missed her presence even though she was a few feet away. She quickly returns with a photo book in her hand. Without thinking Abby grips your ankles to push them away from her to come closer to you. You couldn’t tell if it was the Carmessi Abby put in this drink but that brief moments of skin-to-skin set you ablaze. 
She opened the book and flipped to a spread that made your jaw drop to the floor. You lean over to see the blonde butch behind a sticky bar with shitty alcohol, pouring a purple liquid into a stained glass.  Her hair was short on the sides and gelled upwards down the center. Her muscles were massive, painted with dark stretch marks and flexed. You ran a finger over the image and looked at her briefly to compare. She was just as beautiful, especially with the lingering strands of grey hair she grew now. 
“This job was annoying,” She added. “But I got a lot of numbers every night.” 
“And this?” You bring your attention to a picture of Abby that she attempted to cover with her hand. You gently remove it to see the handsome girl leaving over the bar, different haircut, mouth open, and tongue in between her fingers. The round ball in the center of her tongue was reflecting the harsh Kodak camera light. It was bad, the secret thoughts you were having, downright disgusting. 
“Gosh, I’m sorry this is so embarrassing and I’m sure you have better things to do than see an old woman get nostalgic.” 
You hadn’t noticed how you traced an outline of her body in the picture until silence fell between you two. “Are you embarrassed Ms. Anderson?” You laugh, your faces only a few inhales away. 
A quick glance towards your bottom lip made you feel out of character. The desire to pull on her collar and meet her lips burned faster than you liked to admit. The thought of the things the experienced woman could make you feel was mingling with the alcohol beautifully. You hoped she hadn't noticed the slight squeeze of your thighs.
“A little. Excuse me.” She says coldly.
What happened? You sit up slightly as she walks back over the bookshelf and into the kitchen. You swallow the last bit of your drink. A small spidery chill cracked down your spine as the sudden disruption settled in the air. Images of when Ellie would leave you stranded left you feeling empty.
When you come to your feet a drowsy warmth coaxs over you. That wasn't good. Abby was fishing in the fridge to pull out a pitcher of water.
"Ms. Anderson—"
"Abby. Call me Abby, sweetheart."
"Abby, did I say something wrong?"
She turns towards you wiping away the water trapped on the sparse hairs on top lip. When she walked away, she undid a button, exposing a small strip of freckled skin.
"No, I get these migraines and it's just..."
"I've been here too long. I know that feeling. Um."
Abby chewed on the corner of her lip. "I enjoy your company. I sometimes forget that I am not a teenager who can stay up until," She raises her wrist. "5 p.m. and sometimes those photos serve as a clear reminder. I apologize for keeping you."
You step closer to fill the space. You hope she didn't notice your straying eye. The sleeves of her shirt were pulled above the elbow, carving out a sexy muscle in her forearm. You craved to trace a finger along the outline. Why was your heart beating like you were standing at the edge of a cliff, ready to jump? Surely this crush was simply that, an experience to ogle at an attractive woman.
"—that okay?"
"I'm sorry, what?" You shake your head, distracted by the shameful thoughts inserting themselves into your mind.
"You'll hear back in two days is that okay?"
"Of course. Are you going to be good?"
"I will be, I am. Let me walk you out."
As you slip your shoes on Abby's delicate yet heavy hand presses against your waist to open the door. A groan caught in your throat. The quick and meaningless touch almost made you arch your back into her. The woman walked down the steps to your car and opened that door too.
"Why don't you text me when you get home hm?" She said.
"Yes ma'am. See you tomorrow?"
"Absolutely. Goodnight."
There was a beat before she closed the door wishing you could take her home with you.
9:45 p.m. home.
10:00 p.m. Thank you :)
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dreamescapeswriting · 1 month
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One Hell Of A Night ~ KTH [MATURE WARNING]
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⤜ WORD COUNT: 2.4K
⤜ PAIRING: Taehyung x fem!Reader
⤜GENRE: established relationships, mafia AU (so no one will say anything about him fucking her lmao) SMUT MINORS DNI, public sex, very public, dirty talk, unprotected sex, lots of “good girls”, sloppy kisses, jealous taehyung
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - August 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
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The bass thumped relentlessly, vibrating through the very foundations of the club, your hips moved in perfect time to the music though but Taehyung couldn't take his eyes off you. Neon lights sliced through the small mist that was in the room. Seriously, who thought that was a good idea. It was a choking hazard waiting to happen in Taehyung's opinion, but it did a good job of painting everything in flashes of electric blue, violet, and crimson. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, perfume, and the undeniable electricity of a Friday night crowd in full swing. 
Taehyung couldn't even remember the last time he'd been out on a night like this, it had to have been years ago but he was here now and he was only here for you. And even though clubs were never his scene, seeing you this happy was worth any discomfort he might have been feeling.
He nursed a glass of whiskey, the ice clinking softly as he swirled it, his usual cold demeanour temporarily thawed as he watched everyone in the club. 
It was as though he'd been on high alert ever since the two of you had arrived here. Telling you to have all the fun you wanted since he would be watching you. His attention was fixed on you on the dance floor, a small smile tugging on his lips as he watched you completely unwind. You were a vision of pure, unfiltered joy, the smile on your face was so large he was almost sure it had to have been hurting your cheeks. 
Your outfit was simple and yet seemed to be capturing everyone's attention inside of the club. The holster top shimmered with each movement, and the gold sequins kept catching the light and drawing every gaze in the room. The mini skirt swayed as you danced, each flow of your hips giving people a show that was meant to be for his eyes only but Taehyung couldn't help but smile.
It was a rare sight, his rugged face softening as he watched you. For you, he was a giant teddy bear, his harsh exterior melting away in your presence. Years ago he had sworn no one would ever be able to turn soft for anyone. Stating that the day that happened hell would surely freeze over and yet here he was. Soft for you and no one else.
This whole night had been entirely your idea, no one could ever convince Taehyung to do something he didn't want to...anyone except for you that was. You'd dragged him out tonight, insisting the two of you needed a break from the shadows of his world and to just relax, even if it was just one night of letting his hair down and dancing...Not that he was doing much of that right now.
But as the minutes ticked by, his smile began to falter. He noticed the way others looked at you, their eyes lingering too long, their intentions clear only making his possessiveness rise within him, his jaw tightening so much you could practically see the vein in his neck twitch.
"Boss..." Ivan, one of his most trusted guards said beside him. His eyes lingered on you as he waited for his boss to give him some kind of order.
"Should I get the miss something else to wear?" Ivan glanced back at Taehyung who shook his head. He'd promised you that you could wear whatever the fuck you wanted because you shouldn't have to cover up because dickheads in the clubs couldn't control themselves.
"She's fine," He bites out the words, his jaw once again ticking as he stares over at you. Completely oblivious to the attention you were attracting with each sway of your goddamn hips.
"She can wear whatever she wants because I know how to fight," A small smirk tugged on Taehyung's lips before he downed the rest of his drink, the ice clattering against the glass as he set it down with a firm thud. Ivan watched as his boss slowly rose from his seat and began to make his way over to you.
Taehyung pushed through the throng of bodies, his path clearing effortlessly as people recognized him and stepped aside, muttering to one another as soon as they saw him coming. Noticing that people were starting to take steps away from you, you glanced over and smirked seeing Taheyung making his way to you. Your eyes light up even more as you reached out for him, your fingers brushing his arm, and he catches your hand, pulling you close to him, people staring in complete shock.
No one in their right mind would have imagined Taehyung dancing, especially not in a club like this.
"You feeling okay?" You giggle a little as he pulls your body into him, your hips rocking against him as you feel how hard he is beneath his trousers. Your bodies moved together seamlessly, the heat between you palpable as you rolled your head back to rest on his chest. Taehyung's hands slid around your waist, pulling you against him as they swayed to the rhythm, making sure he ground himself against your ass, letting out a small groan as you smirked up at him. He loved you but he hated that you had so much control over him like this, it was like witchcraft or something.
He leaned in, his lips grazing your ear, his breath catching on your skin and making your knees buckle ever so slightly.
"You know you're driving me crazy, right?" he murmured, his voice a husky whisper. His eyes looking down at your shirt and staring at your breasts which were practically popping right out of the top of the shirt. He wanted nothing more than to rip it off and claim you in front of everyone.
Something that wasn't completely uncommon between the two of you, you couldn't count the times you'd had sex publically because he was jealous of people staring at you. And it might have been the reason you invited him out tonight in the first place.
You giggled, your fingers tangling in the short hair at the nape of his neck, rolling your hips once more as you smirked at yourself.
"That's the idea," you teased, your breath hitching as he kissed your neck, his lips trailing down to your collarbone as he let out a low growl making your whole body shiver.
"You think I won't take you in front of everyone, princess?" Your heart started to pick up as you glanced at everyone who was doing their best not to stare in your direction now. Their eyes were downcast as Taehyung smirked to himself, he liked that he had this control over people and it only made public sex with you all the more fun.
"What if I wanted you to?" You breathe out, your whole body heating up not because of how hot the club was.
"You want that princess?" He smirks, his confidence taking over as he runs his fingers down your hips toward your skirt, rubbing the fabric between his fingers.
"You want me to fuck you so hard everyone knows who you belong to?" He asked, his voice low and seductive as you practically turned to putty in his hands, nodding your head frantically.
He moved with a seductive confidence, his hands exploring your curves, his lips never straying far from your skin making you moan out softly as you shut your eyes, enjoying the feeling of being so close to him like this. The music, the lights, the people—they all became secondary to the two of you as you moved in perfect harmony.
"T-Tae...Please," You breathed out, your heart hammering against your chest as he slowly reached up your back, his eyes on everyone around you as he undid the top of your holster top, letting it drop and expose your breasts as he let out a growl.
"No bra?"
"It ruins the top," You giggled before he raked his hands up your chest, sucking on your neck as his hands began to massage and tug on your breasts. Twisting your nipples lightly as a string of soft moans left your throat. You'd needed this ever since you'd gotten dressed earlier that night.
Part of you had dressed the way you had, in hopes he'd force you to stay home and take his cock but this seemed even better in your mind right now.
"You're just asking for it from me, aren't you?" He whispered, his fingers slowly moving from your breasts and down to your skirt, flicking it up before he ran his fingers through your thong, moaning out lowly when he found out just how soaked you were.
"All for me?" He teased, running his fingers lightly over your clit but never enough to give you what it was you wanted. You knew his games, he wasn't going to give in to you until you told him what he wanted to hear from you.
"Always," You whine, grinding your hips onto his fingers as he smirks at you,
"Go on, princess. Get yourself off on my fingers," He urged, applying a tiny bit more pressure to your already sensitive bud and watching as you rocked yourself on his fingers in time to the music that was flowing around you. Your head rolled back against his chest as you continued to grind needily against his touch,
"T-Tae," You moan out, your eyes finding his as he smirked down at you. Completely captivated by the way you were, his eyes never left you as your legs began to shake from the pleasure you were feeling.
"Come for me, princess. Let everyone here know who makes you feel so good." He growls out, his fingers starting to move on your clit, your breathing sporadic as you nodded needily at him.
"Tae...Close," You cry out as your heart begins to pound harder, your legs trembling as you clutched onto his hand to steady yourself, your moans growing louder as your pussy clenched around nothing. Needing something as you whimpered his name out again,
"Come all over my fingers, princess. Make a mess." He orders in your ear, and as if on the command you do that. Coming all over his fingers, your body convulsing as you cried out his name loudly your head in the clouds.
"Good girl," He moans out, reaching his fingers up to his lips as he sucks them clean.
"Panties. Off." He ordered and you wasted no time, kicking them down your legs and kicking them somewhere else, not even paying attention to where they landed just frantic for him to get inside of you.
"Let's give everyone a show, huh? Let everyone know who owns this pretty little cunt." Taehyung bites out, unzipping his pants and freeing himself, the head of his cock already meeting your entrance as he teased himself with just the tip.
You mewled out in impatience, not wanting to be teased with just how needy you wanted him.
"Tae." You hiss out as he continued to only tease you with the head of his dick, earning a chuckle from him.
"You're the only one I'll let boss me around like this, you know that right?" He whispers in your ear, one hand on your hip while the other held his cock at your entrance, the tip pushed into you as you clenched around it.
"You're so fucking needy you're already clenching around my tip, princess." He smirks to himself, looking down between you and at your ass, wanting nothing more than to slam right into you but enjoying this too much. Teasing you until you were begging.
"Taehyung please...P-Please," You cry out, attempting to roll your hips back toward him but to no avail as he pulls away from you.
"Dirty little slut, you just won't fucking don't you?" You nodded at him before he shoved himself inside of you. A loud moan left his throat as he leaned his head down on yours, your moans growing louder than the music at that point.
Without even thinking you started to rock back on his hips, desperate for another orgasm you didn't care how many people watched the two of you.
"Look at you, fucking yourself with my cock," Taehyung moans out smugly, looking at you as you continued to fuck yourself,
"F-Fuck, princess. Just like that," He moans out, his head rolling back, he wanted to last longer for you but there was something about being watched and the way you just took what you wanted from him that drove him wild.
"S-So big," You moan out, running your fingers over your clit as Taehyung began to thrust inside of you. His hips unforgivingly fast as you cry out his name,
"T-Tae," You moan out, holding onto him as he continues to thrust rougher inside of you.
"Let everyone know owns this pretty fucking pussy, princess. Let everyone hear you." He moans out, thrusting into you relentlessly as your cries grow louder.
Your eyes glanced around at the people who watched, frozen in place as you smirked at him. The orgasm building inside of you only grows faster at the thought of everyone seeing you like this and only for Taehyung.
"You like this princess? You like them watching you get fucked while they can't do anything?" Taehyung moans out, replacing your fingers on your clit and moving them in small, quick circles making you squeal at him. Your legs were jelly as you clenched around his cock, earning a loud moan from him.
"Close...s-So fucking close," You cried out as he nodded his head at you,
"I can feel it, princess." He moans out, sweat dripping down his forehead,
"M-me too," He stutters a little as his thrusts getting frantic, unable to stop himself as you cry out loudly.
"S-Shit, I'm gonna cum." You cried out, your fingers digging into his skin leaving marks as you cum around him. Taehyung smirks as he looks up at people in the room, bottoming out inside of you as he finishes inside of you, grunting loudly as you giggle up at him.
"Feel better for that?" You whisper as he straightens you up, watching your thighs as his cum leaks down your skin.
"I am, now that everyone sees who owns you," He chuckles darkly, as he pulls you into his arms, pulling your top back up and covering you, quickly shooting Ivan a look to let him know to get the car so the two of you could go home.
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Tagline: @chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @tinyoonsblog @whitefoxgirl @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @wolfgurl2600 @choisoorin @heyjiminnie @btsiguess-kpop @alicejustwakeup @halesandy @gothic4under4lord @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lenfilms @elizaschuyler18 @whitefoxgirl
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Strawberry Princess Chapter Eight ‘The Piercing Mystery’
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Pairing - OT7!BTS x Reader, Hybrid!BTS x Hybrid!Reader
Genre - Hybrid!Au , Hybrid BTS x Hybrid Reader, fluff, angst, eventual smut, slow burn? , alternative reality , strangers to lovers , strangers to friends, friends to lovers
Warnings - So much fluff, teasing, suggestive moments, slight insecurity, lmk if there’s anything else!
Summary - When a certain hybrid starts to appear whenever Jungkook is at the gym, an immediate pull is felt between the two and their eventual friendship soon is spread to the rest of his pack.
Previous Next Overview
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The room Taehyung had brought her into had a large window facing onto the city, it also allowed for the brief moments of sunlight in the window to pass through and highlight the walls, that was why Taehyung had the idea to bring in Y/n at that specific moment. The sun was taking over the desk and wall Taehyung wanted Y/n to be, as it moves it would create unique shadows and patterns on the area so this might be a bit longer than a ‘quick’ borrow.
Y/n was struck at the request and equally confused
“Model? Like try on designs?” - Her brows were furrowed as she tried to understand her role in that moment, focusing on Taehyungs expression as a soft smile took over.
“Try on and let me take pictures, if that’s okay” - Y/n had never seen him be so hesitant as he said something to her but at his words her jaw dropped, confused as to why he could want to take pictures of her specifically, perhaps it was opportunity.
“I’m sure you have models far more fit that you could ask, right?” - Y/n began to shift almost uncomfortably, truthfully she was insecure and had never done anything of the sort before.
“Maybe with more experience, but they don’t have what you have, what I’m looking for, it would be forced and you are the perfect model the perfect muse for my vision, please kitten” - Taehyung almost seemed to ramble about his thoughts because slowing down to ask again. His speech made her realise he genuinely did want her and maybe it wasn’t just convenience so she hesitantly answered.
“What do I have to do and wear?” - Y/n took a breathe before making it clear she agreed, it was worth it watching the shine in Taehyungs eyes, a newfound sense of inspiration seeming to transpire before her. She could practically see the way his brain was turning with possibility before he span around quickly, rushing over to his desk and looking at various designs he had made in the last few hours. There was 3 he wanted her to model and definitely more to come but for now he had to decide which to use at what time.
A white silk midi dress that had a cowl neck that was only loose enough to be slightly revealing, the straps thin and tight to make sure it didn’t fall. It was backless, the silk dropping strategically to sit just above its wearers widest part of their hip, seductive yet sensual. It was form fitting but not suffocating, truthfully no other model would do because these designs were tailored to what he wanted to see Y/n in and thus they were her measurements. The next was a full length pink dress, blush pink, with a floral lace overlay, it was off shoulder with only thin straps to sit on the arms, fitted once again before loosening mid thigh. The next dress was a red and white gingham sundress, tight from chest to waist before puffing out to accentuate the widened area of hips, it flowed to just above mid thigh but was lined with a white soft tulle to help hold shape and prevent unnecessary movement with the wind. The straps were of the same gingham material and created a square neckline.
With how the light was shining without any shadowed pattern onto the desk in that moment he decided on the white silk dress to start. Picking it up and spinning on his heel to hold it out to the restless girl behind him.
“How about this one first, I can leave for you to change or I can turn around” - Taehyungs voice was so smooth it made Y/na knees feel weak as she struggled to answer
“U-Um you can just turn around” - He nodded and did as he said, walking over to his table to begin setting up a camera, not once turning around while she felt the fabric, soft and so smooth on her hands before taking off her shirt, thankful that the dress had built in support as she hadn’t put her bra back on earlier. The thought back to the earlier events made heat rush over her cheeks as she stilled for a second, knowing that Taehyung also briefly knew what went on and growing quite embarrassed. She still had the dress in her hands so Y/n quickly pulled it over her head finding it fit perfectly and not to mention felt amazing on her skin, it had her wanting to purr even before she could see it on herself properly. Her heart was warm as she thought about him wanting her to model the dress for him, especially something so beautiful. She could feel the cool air hitting her back when she moved her hair to adjust the straps and once she was finished, she let him know he could turn around.
“I’m finished” - Taehyung turned around at her words and looked at her with a combination of emotion in his eyes, inspiration and admiration that created a spark, electric causing his striking blue eyes to stun Y/n for a moment. His scent was strong in the room, she hadn’t noticed before but it was filling her nose and making the sun that shined in seem even brighter, the air clearer in the strangest way. Her breath caught in her throat in a gasp at his next words, that playful and dominant gaze he had the day they met returning as he stalked towards her, the same powerful aura around him even if he was in casual clothes this time.
“You make it look so good, so soft and perfect, I think it might just be you though” - his flirty words made her cheeks bloom into a light shade of rose, she felt impossibly small as he stood over her, she was almost nervous.
“Can I just adjust it on you?” - Taehyung asked as the straps were slightly twisted and a few glances ruching where they shouldn’t be. Y/n nodded shyly at him, not knowing what to do with her arms when Taehyungs large hands gently settled on her waist, pulling the fabric to where it should be, her eyes followed his hands as she focused on how big, slim and soft they were, his touches the perfect inbetween of gentle and assertive, confident as he pushed and pulled all over, eyebrows furrowing in concentration.
Y/n had to hold back a little gasp as his hands made contact with her bare skin, he slipped his slim fingers under her straps to straighten them before moving his hands back down to her waist, firmly planting them there this time as they made brief eye contact, the stare so intense it seemed to freeze in her mind as if it was on repeat for years even though it was a mere half second before Taehyung spun her around, manhandling her to look and feel where he needed. He let his hands graze up her spine before one fell to her exposed lower back, admiring the curve of her back as he leant forward, over her shoulder and down until his lips brushed the shell of her ear.
“Perfect” - that singular word had Y/n’s mind hazy, knees feeling wobbly as she was glad Taehyung let his hand sit on her back, pushing her over to the desk, she didn’t quite know what to do so she looked back for a little direction with wide eyes that made Taehyung swoon.
“How about you lay in your side, head held up by your arm?” - As he spoke, Taehyung gently picked up Y/n and placed her sitting on the table even though she didn’t need him too, it made her giddy for some reason, quickly trying to recreate the image he had in his head.
Taehyung stood back, tilting his head to focus, she was perfection but she was tense, not knowing exactly what to do so he decided to set up his camera, giving her time to settle. It seemed to work slightly but she was lightly biting her nip nervously, he walked over, putting one hand on her face and watching her eyes close from his touch and her entire body relax, he let her face sit on her hand and she held that position. It all seemed so much more natural now, one of her legs slightly falling over the other due to her position on her side, accentuating the curve of her hips and allowing the silk to highlight from its slight movement, creating a beautiful silhouette. The hair danced over her shoulder, a single strand aesthetically laying over her face as Y/n’s free arm was relaxed over her side, falling naturally. The sun made parts of her hair shine golden at the crease of the waves and ringlets while her rosy cheeks were accentuated.
Taehyung knew in that moment everything he had imagined was put into the world, quickly moving towards his camera and snapping a few shots from various angles, closer and further and when Y/n lightly opened her eyes, still heavy as she barely looked at the camera, he felt like he’d happily freeze in time in that moment, quickly capturing it, knowing he would keep a variety of these for himself if not all of them.
Taking his time to make her laugh, smile, blush and move naturally, Taehyung caught so many amazing pictures, you could see how much more comfortable Y/n had gotten even after everytime he asked her to change positions, even after he asked her to stand with her back to the camera to capture the detailing on the back, gently sliding her hair over her shoulder for her before putting it into a messy low bun that looked too classy for how quickly he had put it together, he knew exactly what he was doing and it showed, even if she didn’t.
“Wahhhh beautiful, who are you wearing today miss Y/n” - Taehyung kept teasing her as she looked over her shoulder, the sun capturing her in the best way, her hands pulled over her face in a shy smile, he was quick with capturing every moment he found beautiful and was sure the candid shots would be perfect for his promotions of this collection if she was comfortable with them being posted.
He was making her feel truly special, like a model, like she was famous, like she was the most beautiful girl in the world and she couldn’t stop her smile even when she tried to hide it to get a more relaxed shot. He captured images of her side profile, of her back, of her laying, sitting, posing a bit dramatically, of her trying to quickly run towards him and catch the camera when he was being particularly teasing.
The light seemed to bend for her, to accommodate her and accentuate her as every angle caught made her look ethereal, like an angel. Only when Taehyung had got just about every angle and pose did he ask her to change into the next dress, repeating the process with her in various places and positions, the room was warm, their scents mixing, Y/n’s sweet strawberry with Taehyungs musky spice, cinnamon and vanilla, all you could hear was laughter and the snapping of a camera along with their sweet teasing of eachother. Taehyungs duality was striking to Y/n, this side of him completely different to the side she had seen when they first met, she liked that.
———————————————————————————
Time seemed to fly as they were stuck in their own bubble; wrapping up the photoshoot when Tae had photographed each of the dresses Y/n was wearing, that time only brought them closer as Y/n found her shy front starting to diminish. The room was almost bursting with the scent and feeling of happiness and joy, laughter and comfortability. The photoshoot had taken near to 2 hours, neither of them had noticed how Jungkook peeked in about an hour through and when finding them in their own little world, smiled to himself and went back to the couch.
After the final dress, the two found themselves a bit disappointed it was all ending but equally happy that it had happened. Y/n had changed back into the shirt she had and only then noticed the slight chill of winter that was in the home, despite the heating. Her legs were out so she decided it would be best to seek out her trousers from before, not caring before but grasping now that she was just walking round in Hobis shirt and Jungkooks boxers, she began to feel a bit self conscious about it.
“Thank you for being my model kitty, you were so perfect” - Taehyungs praise was followed with gently pulling her into a hug by her waist, his hands around her lower back as a small squeak almost left her from the quick movements, praise and warm embrace that had her heart racing and cheeks heating up, her scent grew slightly sweeter as she tried to pretend she wasn’t gently purring, hoping Taehyung couldn’t feel the vibrations but he definitely could.
“Why don’t you go see Jungkookie again, I’m sure he missed you” - he seemed back to his teasing self as he ruffled her hair, knowingly slightly knocking the base of her ears as he watched her inhale a sweet gasp and grow redder by the second before stepping away with her hands fiddling before making her way into the hall.
Taehyung watched her rush away with a soft smile, shaking his head as he could feel his own heart racing, chest rumbling as his hybrid side made him create his own version of a purr, his tail was swaying softly and he knew he should try to get back to work.
Y/n took a detour instead of immediately going back to Jungkook, softly stepping down the hall, feeling as if she was sneaking around which she potentially was, she was sneaking into the pack room, only to retrieve her trousers of course, and potentially bask in the scenes held in there. Especially when Jungkook and Hoseoks were so strong the moment she walked in, it had her legs feeling all wobbly again and she had to bite her lip to regain focus on her task. It was easy enough, one of the boys had neatly folded her clothes for her on the nest and she quickly padded over to put on the soft bottoms but stopped when she saw Hobi’s sweatpants that had been picked out for her right next to her own pile. It made her hesitate as she looked around, scanning as if she would be caught before snatching the bottoms and pulling them up, soft on her legs and scent making her purr once again, eyes drooping slightly in comfortable bliss.
When they were on, she didn’t exactly know what to do with her pile of clothes but in her head, since they hadn’t been moved since they had been put there maybe she’d leave them until she left, so she quickly moved out of the room, not before sneaking a glance over her shoulder and feeling giddy at the sight of the nest she had made. She couldn’t help the questions that ran through her head
Would it be soft enough for Jin’s standards, he was always so perfect to her she just hoped it would be up to his expectations
Would there be enough pillows so that Yoongi could nap comfortably wherever he put his head, something about him seemed like he loved to sleep and to follow up that thought she couldn’t help but rush back in to quickly fluff up the pillows and flatten the creases in blankets for Jin before moving away again
Would Namjoon be proud of her nest, would he think it’s nice enough for his pack, would he softly rub at her ears and tell her she’d done a good job? She knew he probably wouldn’t but the thought it his praise made her body shudder with happiness
Would Jimin find it pretty enough, he was so good with everything appearance wise would he find it worthy, she didn’t know what she wanted it to be worthy of but just that their opinions really mattered and she couldn’t quite think about why in the moment
And Taehyung, would Taehyung want to pull her into one of those tight hugs in the middle of it and rub at her ears praising her for it, that seemed far too appealing for her to not rush around perfecting every last bit of the nest, feet softly padding around as she darted to fix every little corner, unknowingly freshly scenting the entire room and biting at her lips and nails with a soft smile.
She definitely hadn’t forgotten about Hobi and Kookie but they had already seen her nest, even been inside it, took care of her inside it so she assumed they had liked it, hoped they would want to be in it again, her mind was running wild so much so that she didn’t even notice the new or familiar presence in the room.
“Such a perfect nest kitten, how about I take you to Jungkook so you can watch something with him hmm?” - Hoseoks words were slowly passing through her brain as his big hands gently took her hands away from her mouth so she couldn’t fidget and nibble at her nails, he took in her blown out pupils and slightly messy hair where she’d hurriedly pushed it out of her face in her process of perfecting her nest, she was soft in every way and it probably wouldn’t help being in a room so full of possibilities so he did what he knew best and took control. His gentle touch seemed to encourage her as he gently wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her out of the door, closing it behind him both to stop the scents inside from making her softer and also to stop them from getting out. Hoseok had things to be doing but when he heard rustling and the soft padding around she had been doing in the room next to his, along with her sweet strawberry scent, he rushed to see what was happening. Y/n had tried to look back over her shoulder into the room but Hoseok moved his free hand to grasp her chin between his index and thumb, pulling her face forward, it wasn’t rough but it was assertive and seemed to have Y/n melting into his side, mind slowly forgetting about her previous rush of thoughts and just relaxing. Her soft tail sought out his own and wrapped around it, possibly to ground herself and maybe pull him in closer, the contact made Hobi’s body tense slightly and still before continuing as he wasn’t expecting it but he welcomed the gesture as Y/n softly sighed in content.
“Kook-ah, come help kitty won’t you” - Jungkooks head spun around at Hoseoks words, he dropped his phone on the sofa and jumped over the back to come take Y/n from Hoseoks hold, he didn’t ask any questions when neither of them seemed distressed or upset, Y/n just seemed soft and Hobi smiled before telling Y/n he would come sit with them later and going back to his room.
“Y/nie let’s watch a movie hm? That’ll be nice won’t it” - Jungkooks voice was soft as he held up her head to look at him with a gentle touch, at the sight of his face Y/n smiled dopily with a happy nod and reached out for his hand which he joyfully held and led her to the couch. He sat upright, softly guiding her to lay down with her head across his thick thighs and body curled up beside him, her hands raised up to her head and rested on his thighs before beginning to move, pushing and pulling gently while she let out soft purrs and he couldn’t help the twitch of his soft tail and smile that grew as she got comfortable. His hand moved to rest on her side, rubbing small circles over Hoseoks clothes that she’d been put in while his other hand put on a movie he found of Netflix. Her head was facing the tv for the most part until she started to stir on his thighs after about 25 minutes of the movie, she was a lot more in control than she was before and found herself bathing in Jungkooks soft and comfortable scent, his strong thighs that she’d been kneading below her head and his overall look more handsome than ever. Y/n felt butterfly’s just looking at him as he became far more interesting than the movie. She had her head flat down on his thighs instead of the side of her face so she could watch the way he would struggle to stay still, fidgeting with his free hand while his other moved from Y/n’s side to her stomach, still rubbing. His tongue was lightly darting out to play with his lip piercings and Y/n could see the shine of his tongue piercing, the whole display entirely innocent as Jungkooks eyebrows were lightly furrowed in concentration and he used his veiny hands to push back his hair. The display had Y/n feeling shy around him again, trying to hide her face In her arms everytime his tongue darted out, she loved how it he was always so expressive, like when he eats good food he looks angry, it was so endearing to her.
Doesnt that hurt?” - the words seem to fall out of her mouth as her thoughts raced, there was another thought of does it hurt when he kisses but she definitely wouldn’t ask that, just the thought made a blush rise to her cheeks.
Not at all, maybe when it was healing it would have but not anymore” -
He made a display to prove his words by biting onto the ring and pulling his lip a few times before sliding his tongue over it to push it back into place, the action may have been entirely innocent but it made goosebumps rise all over Y/n’s body and her cheeks heat up as she wanted to hide in her hands.
Her thoughts were quickly cut off when Jungkook gently grabbed one of her hands, brought it up to his lips and pressed a light kiss to her fingertips.
“Pull it.” - the simple words made heat rush to Y/n’s brain as her eyes widened slightly, hesitant but following his words as she gently swiped her finger over the ring as first before holding it between her fingers and giving it the gentlest tug. She observed his reaction as she couldn’t take her eyes off his face, watching his doe eyes drop slightly. She couldn’t help but tug a tiny bit harder and watched his eyes close, lips parting and he definitely didn’t look like he was in pain. Just out of curiosity after that, she played with the ring between her fingers, pulling it with different strengths, watching his reaction as he left out soft grunts at the harder tugs and would open his eyes the tiniest bit at the softer tugs, not the shiny and wide doe eyes he always held but a darker pair, only opened slightly but so alluring.
“Is there anything they hurt to do?” - Y/na eyes were full of curiosity as she carefully asked, Jungoook opened his eyes and looked down at her with a light chuckle
“You sound like you want to get one yourself, curious are you?” - the way Jungkooks voice had dropped to speak to her made her want to curl up and hide behind her hands, it was predatory despite being a prey hybrid, her voice seemed to falter as butterflies flew threw her body.
“N-no I don’t want to I just wanted to know” - She only had her ears pierced and didn’t want any other piercings, they wouldn’t suit her. On Jungkook however, he looked like a dream with his piercings.
“This one hasn’t really been painful from the start, the worst was my tongue but that isn’t painful now either” - Jungkook moved the underneath of his tongue piercing to between his lips and pushed is across to emphasise, Y/n often forgot he had a tongue piercing, truthfully she would only remember when she caught sight of it shining when he was talking or when they were kissing
“My tongue swelled for a while and made my lisp a lot more noticeable” - For some reason his words made Y/n giggle slightly, imagining him at the time, she imagined him to be so cute, her own laugh made Jungkook smile brightly.
“Does any of your pack have piercings?” - Y/n’s curiosity didn’t seem to end there
“Well that’ll be for you to find out won’t it?” - Jungkooks teasing voice and smile made Y/n look at him a bit struck, needing to know what he meant by that but interrupted by the sound of the front door opening.
“Kook? Come help me with this” - Seokjin’s voice called out to the living room, not seeing Y/n as she was still laying on his lap, hidden by the back of the couch. Jungkook whined childishly, picking up Y/n under her arms and pulling her onto his lap sitting with her front pressed into him, strong arms wrapping tightly around her waist as she squeaked from the sudden movement.
“I can’t, Y/n wants me to stay and she’s asking about my piercings” - Jungkook held Y/n tightly against his chest, jokingly speaking for her as Jin moved from inside the kitchen and seeing Y/n’s slightly shocked face and squished position on his lap
“Aish, Jungkook let her go” - the moment Jungkook reluctantly loosened his hold, Jin glided over and gently placed his hands on Y/n’s sides, much like Jungkook had done and picked her up, out of Jungkooks lap and into standing before softly straightening her shirt for her.
Y/n was staring up at him wide eyed at his actions, so easily just picking her up like it was nothing, it was making her almost dizzy from how attractive she found the pack, their easy displays of strength that might not mean anything to them but so much to her. She felt like she had a middle school crush again, wanting to rock on her feet and bat her eyelashes at him. Jin cut off her thoughts when one of his pretty hands landed softly on her cheek, making her focus on him, he looked away to talk to Jungkook before meeting her eyes
“Kook go start to put things away please. Are you okay sweetheart, you seem a little lightheaded hm?” - Jin’s voice was like a symphony, so smooth and yet so full of emotion in every word he spoke, Y/n definitely would never get over how perfect their pack was. He was right however, his alluring scent and actions had made her lightheaded, not that she’d complain, she just wanted a hug but she wouldn’t ask for that.
“I’m okay Jinnie, thank you” - she was quiet as she responded, hands twitching to refrain from falling into his embrace, something Jin noticed but wouldn’t make it obvious so he did the next best thing to give her what she needed
“It’s so good to see you again, you feeling okay?” - Jin gently pulled her into his embrace, feeling her heartbeat get faster and hearing her take in a sweet gasp at the contact, her scent getting sweeter as she subtly nuzzled into his chest. Jin dipped his head down to get closer but was welcomed with the thick scent of Jungkook and Hoseok, attached all over her neck and scent gland, it made his eyes widen and curiosity grow but he wouldn’t show that while he was with Y/n.
“Mhm, thank you for all the meals, were so delicious” - she was mumbling her response into his chest, like she had just woken up, she liked telling Jin how nice his food was, it always made a pretty blush rise to his cheeks, like it did with her whenever she was praised for just about anything.
“That’s okay sweetheart, im glad you liked them, I’ll get started on lunch now too” - Neither had realised how long they had been hugging until they both reluctantly pulled away, Jin gesturing towards the kitchen where Kook was finished unpacking the groceries. When all three were together Jungkook didn’t hold back from getting close to Y/n again, walking up behind her and resting his head ontop of hers, leaning down slightly to do so, he just rested and watched as Jin walked over to get some food for lunch out
“Y/n was asking about if any of us have piercings besides me” - Jungkook said with a smirk and watched as Jin stopped for only a second, Y/n was watching with confusion and was even more curious when Jin asked a question back
“And what did you say?” - Jin had an eyebrow raised, only out of curiosity
“I said she’d have to find out herself” - Jungkook replied with a proud smile
“Hmm, that’s right” - The entire interaction was making Y/n more confused and she just had to know what was happening, she needed to know what they were being so cryptic about
“How should I find out myself?” - Y/n was almost physically leaning in to find out the answers as if that would make it clearer
“You’ll find out with time” - Jin’s words were said in a tone that told her no more questions, shutting down her words but not her thoughts, even when he quickly changed the conversation on to what he would be making for lunch.
“Do you like Kimchi-jjigae sweetheart?” - it was a simple dish for him to make and warming, especially in the winter months.
“Oh yes I haven’t had it in so long” - Y/n’s eyes lit up a little bit more than usual at the opportunity to have more of Jin’s delicious food, as if on cue her stomach rumbled quietly, making Jin chuckle and move faster while Jungkook moved his hands from besides him to wrap around her waist and rub her stomach gently as if she was in pain and he was trying to soothe her, it was sweet, comforting, definitely warming, he radiated so much heat all the time if she was cold before she definitely couldn’t be now. Her own chest started to vibrate quietly in appreciation as her eyes slowly fluttered shut for a few seconds.
“Yoongi will be coming home for lunch too, he finished up early so he should be back any time now” - Jin spoke while preparing the meal for everyone. As if on queue, the sound of the front door opening was heard and Jungkook began to move away to greet Yoongi, but stopped mid way to lean into Y/n’s ear and whisper
“I’m not the only one with a tongue piercing” - Those words made Y/n’s breath catch in her throat, mind racing with all the possibilities of who has what piercings, she really didn’t know why it was so intriguing, maybe she found Jungkooks ones more exciting and attractive than she’d like to admit.
Citrus seemed to take over the kitchen when Yoongi walked in with Jungkook, he had a smile, shaking his head as Jungkook purposefully annoyed him when he looked up to greet the other two in the kitchen. Once he had, Jungkook went to take a seat at the kitchen island while Y/n was stood watching Jin cook from a little bit away, she was deeply focused on two things, Jin’s cooking and the piercing mystery. So deeply focused she had no idea Yoongi would sneak up and playfully swipe at her fluffy tail, he was nonchalant about it, simply muttering to her as he walked past her, leaving her to stand stunned and staring and in complete admiration.
“Still so much to learn kitten” - in that moment, Yoongi’s words had multiple meanings, so much to learn, he does piercings, surely he has a few of his own and from then on Y/n told herself she would keep watch of his lips, as weird as it may sound. Her pupils dilated in focus as her tail started to whip behind her, covering Jungkooks view a few times
Once Jin had finished, he and Yoongi put the food on the table, Y/n was watching Yoongi so closely that she hadn’t moved from her spot so Jungkook took it into his own hands, standing behind her and crouching to lift Y/n by her knees bridal style beginning to spin around and sing a song about the meal while Y/n giggled and held onto his neck before being placed down, coincidentally next to Yoongi who she began to watch through the side of her eye, trying to act normal while she waited to see if he had a piercing.
“I’ll go get Taehyung and Hobi” - Jin stood and walked off, Yoongi had opened his phone and began scrolling and something Y/n hadn’t noticed him doing before is moving his jaw just slightly side to side, her attention was caught by Jungkook once again who dramatically threw his arms and head down onto the table whining about being hungry. It was funny how close and comfortable Y/n had become with them, it was like they had known eachother for so much longer than they really had.
“Finally! I’m starving” - Jungkook span around in his seat as Jin came back with the two members, Y/n looked at them as they arrived and smiled warmly before she gave a second look to Hoseok, suddenly remembering what had happened earlier that day, sneaking a glance at Jungkook too as her face grew redder and hotter by the second, impossible to hide as her eyes were wide and she refused to look at the two again out of embarrassment. It was easy for what happened to slip from her mind either Jungkook because he was always so… domestic with her, made it all seem natural. Hoseok on the other hand, had that aura that made her feel soft and pliant around him all the time, even when he was his bubbly self it couldn’t mask over the ways he immediately made her body feel.
“Careful kitten, your drooling” - a deep whisper from Yoongi warmed her ear and made Y/n’s gaze leave the two males who had made her feel that way, her gaze instead snapping to Yoongi as a playful glare and a ‘no I wasn’t’, the playful scowl on Y/n’s face made Yoongi laugh, agreeing with a ‘sure, kitten’.
When everyone was settled it was time for everyone to dig in, each of the boys took it upon themselves to help Y/n in serving her food, piling each of the sides and main for her and refilling her drink. This sort of treatment wasn’t something Y/n was used too but god could she get used to it, being pampered and showered with care, it made her purr involuntarily, extremely quietly as she tried to hide it, thinking she succeeded.
She hadn’t. Yoongi was sitting right next to her, his hybrid side made it easier to recognise feline mannerisms and sounds, he could practically feel the vibrations coming off of Y/n without even touching her, it made his own chest rumble in a similar way, he was proud they were making her feel this way, especially himself as their hybrids seemed to have created a hierarchy already, in terms of leadership and submission, Y/n was leaning into the place she was put in already by accepting their care.
That also meant, he didn’t have to get close to her neck to smell Hoseok and Jungkooks scents surrounding her, along with her own, abnormally sweet scent underneath the two. It also didn’t help that she was in Hobi’s clothes if she was embarrassed or trying to hide what happened. It was clear she was trying to play it off, distracting herself by eating away the delicious meal as simple conversation was made across the table. In fact, she was so focused she hadn’t realised a little bit of the stew had dripped from the corner of her plump lips until Yoongi reached to her, wiping his thumb across the area and pulling away. Y/n’s eyes snapped to him and watched as he opened his mouth and licked the stew from his own thumb but what caught her attention the most was the glimpse of something silver, it made her eyes widen and she almost dropped her utensils, wanting to point at it as if she was making a point. Instead, her gaze just switched to Jungkook, eyes wide now in knowing but when he met her gaze he was simply confused.
It made sense really, for him to have a tongue piercing, as a piercer and all but with no other face piercings, maybe it was more unexpected to her, it’s not like she’d do anything or say anything, besides to Jungkook but it was just a surprise. And maybe extremely attractive, tied in with his sharpened canine fangs and dark hair, it really brought out his panther features and that was making Y/n’s own hybrid spiral. She wanted to lean into his shoulder next to her, rub her cheek against him and absorb his scent, wrap her tail around his and stick to his side. He made her feel soft and warm without even trying, all of them did, she hadn’t realised once again as she involuntarily started to purr, louder this time, not hidden at all. To everyone else she just seemed happy and comfortable but Yoongi could see her watching him from the corner of his eye. She was purring for him and that made a proud smirk take over his features, even if he didn’t know exactly why.
He wanted to pull her in and let her purrs soothe any tension in his body, let her curl up and get comfortable with him before she falls into a deep sleep, surrounded by his and his packs scents, safe and warm. Even if he didn’t know exactly what had gone on with her and his two mates earlier in the day, he could smell how good it was for each of them and that only added to the pride in his chest, his back straightening and chest puffing out while the whiskey and tobacco in his scent became more prominent, feeling like a piece in his pack that was missing was finally here, like they would be fulfilled.
Once lunch was eaten, Y/n insisted that she help clean up with Jin while everyone got back to their tasks, she took all the plates off of everyone and made her way to the kitchen and practically begged to help, complimenting ‘Jinnie-Oppa’’s cooking and saying she needed to help. He wasn’t giving up until she took a step closer, looking up at him with wide eyes that he couldn’t say no to, finally reluctantly agreeing.
Y/n didn’t know just how much she had them wrapped around her finger as she happily waited for instructions on where to start incase Jin had a process. He guided her with a gentle hand on her back, leaning over her to check on her at every stage, barely brushing his chest on her back and whispering sweet praise to her as shocks rushed up her body.
“That’s it well done sweetheart”
“Perfect, your doing amazing pretty girl”
“Just like that, nearly done beautiful”
Each word was making her body and mind feel softer, the tingles turning into butterfly’s and she couldn’t help but lean back into his chest everytime he leant over to check on her, melting at the sound of his heart, she desperately wanted to rub her cheeks into his chest and did a few times, only very lightly but it was enough to rub her scent onto his. Every praise had her cheeks hot and eyes fluttering shut for a few moments, progressively drooping more and more as she would of became like a ragdoll if it wasn’t for her trying to focus on each task Jin gave her, as simple as they were.
Jin had noticed the effect his praise was having on her after the first set of words, she had tensed shyly only for a second as heat rose to her cheeks before her body relaxed. After that, each small touch was followed by almost silent gasps as she subtly leant into him to quiet whines when he stopped touching her, he was filling with pride by the second, the rewards of taking care of her being evident in her every breath. As she leant into him and shared her warmth even if only for a few seconds, he did the same, dropping down his head a rubbing his nose as her hair, gently scenting her with his soft earthy wood scent and hearing her sweetly gasp audibly this time as he nuzzled gently between her ears. One of Y/n’s arms shot up, slipping behind her into Jin’s hair, it made him hesitate, stopping his motions as he worried he stepped too far but let out a grunt as Y/n gripped his hair and pushed him closer to her head, encouraging him to keep going.
Jin’s hands slipped to hold her full hips, resting softly before pulling her back flush against himself, the range of his scenting and nuzzling expanded only slightly, moving to the outside of her ears, the tip of his nose gently grazing the base of them when his head tipped side to side, with every little contact, Y/n would grip his hair and release, purr and gasp, she started to squirm in his hold when it switched from Jin’s nose to his plump lips grazing her ear slightly parting so Y/n could feel his warm breathing. Y/n began squirming more, the feeling so pleasant but verging too much when she was trying to hold onto herself at the same time, her hand began to shake in his hair, other scrambling to stabilise herself. Jin seemed to pick up on that, his grip on his hips become just a tiny bit firmer as he sent out more of his scent to reassure her, letting her know she could let go. In her attempts to hold onto her mind from not knowing if Jin would be ok with her being soft like that, she didn’t even notice Jin’s reassurance and he realised this himself.
Taking it into his own hands, Jin moved to the base of one of her ears and opened his mouth just a bit wider, letting his teeth graze over the edge making Y/n shudder before he pressed his teeth so gently into either side, gently nibbling at her ear and that did exactly what they both wanted. Y/n’s legs almost gave out as she completely relaxed onto Jin’s chest, his grip tightening to hold her up as she let him scent her, warm and soft in his arms, he slowly finished scenting her and getting high on her own scent when he pulled away just enough to speak to her, his own pupils dilated and chest rumbling happily.
“You did such a good job at helping me, thank you sweetheart” - The single line of praise was enough to have a sweet whine rip through Y/n’s throat as she tightened her grip on his hair and had him groaning into her head. Y/n giggled happily at his thanks and nuzzled into his chest.
“Come on, let’s get you to the couch, is that okay sweetheart?” - Jin asked and waited until he got a nod before slipping his hands, one down her side and behind her thighs and the other up behind her back before easily lifting her bridal style, his actions made a happy squeal leave Y/n’s mouth as her soft tail wrapped around his arm and her hands refused to move from his hair until he layed her down on the couch, a pillow under her head and blanket over her body. She nuzzled into the blanket that had been scented by each of the pack over time, huffing softly into the pillow under her head and kneading both items to get comfortable, her eyes closed with a happy smile on her lips and she fell asleep within two minutes. Jin loved how happy she was to sleep at pretty much any time of the day, it would make her the perfect little nesting mate for all of them.
Little did he know, she had left proof of exactly that in their nesting room, a warm and fuzzy nest filled with her scent, one she had made with each of them in mind, subconsciously promising her interest in them.
Jin stayed with Y/n until she was fully asleep, he left shortly after checking on her and when finding her happily purring away, cozy under the blanket, he decided to leave to do a few things he’d had planned for today and in exchange, he would get someone to sit with her so she didn’t wake up alone.
The only person who was not busy in that moment happened to be Yoongi, Jungkook would have been if he had not gotten a sudden call to arrange an appointment for a client and having to do a consultation about ideas and such. Yoongi was also on his way to the living room anyway so it seemed to work out perfectly, he just sat at the edge of the sofa next to a napping Y/n and took out his phone to scroll on.
His presence seemed to make her stir as her nose twitched, clearly sensing someone else in the room after Jin had left. It actually made her wake up, sleepily opening her eyes and looking to where he was sitting, finding him sitting comfortably but the thing that made her eyes seem to open just a tiny bit more was the silver ball between his lips, slowly sliding, the piercing that had been on her mind for a while before she slept and in her sleepy state, she found herself just blurting out the obvious statement from her head.
“You have a tongue piercing” - Her quiet words made Yoongi’s head snap towards her, eyebrows knitted together in slightly confusion as the silver ball slipped back between his lips.
“Yes?” - The way he said it might have seemed rude but he was just curious, and luckily Y/n noticed that and took it that way.
“I had no idea, suits you” - Her words were a mere mumble at that point, slowly drifting off again as her eyes drooped again, it then finally clicked to Yoongi what she had been staring at during lunch, it was what was making her so intrigued and that made him chuckle lightly, amused.
“It does doesn’t it” - Yoongi wasn’t cocky but he knew it fit in with his features, he got a hum in response from Y/n, his response had made her wake up slightly more however, no longer drifting back off as she didn’t say any more for a minute, just watching him quietly.
Yoongi knew of course, instead of saying anything he instead just went back to his phone and continued running the piercing over his lips, Y/n watched him doing so intently before quietly stretching out her arms and legs. In doing so she kicked Yoongi’s thigh but he didn’t take any notice, ignoring her actions and that seemed to confuse her. So, following her mind she did it again, gently obviously but with intention this time, and when he didn’t react again, she waited a moment before doing it again, and again, not quite realising that she was intentionally trying to annoy him now, only playfully of course.
After the 5th kick to his thigh, Yoongi caught her ankle in his hand, making quick movements to pull her by said ankle until his arm was stretched out the other way, her thighs now ontop of his as she let out a quiet yelp of surprise, staring at him now with her lips slightly parted and eyes wide as she looked at him.
“Enough of that” - His words were firm but he didn’t sound annoyed at all, ignoring her actions once again even as she was positioned with her legs fully on and over his lap. This was almost funny to Y/n, fuelling the playful glint in her eyes as she giggled and felt her tail begin to swish underneath her. She took a quick glance at his phone and found he was just scrolling through socials feeds and wasn’t trying to find anything or do anything too important it seemed. With that in mind, she flipped onto her side on his lap ‘accidentally’ knocking his phone until it nearly fell out of his hands.
“Oops” - Y/n was smiling playfully as she said it, it made Yoongi actually look up at her this time, stopping all his movements and captured her eyes, seeing her blown out pupils as she waited for his next move, if any. It was intriguing to him how she could switch from shy and polite to so playful in a matter of seconds.
“Aish, so polite and sweet for Jin-hyung and like this for me, what’s that about hm?” - Yoongi waited for her answer with his eyes back on his phone and his words seemed to stun her for a moment as she didn’t notice how differently she would act around each of the men.
“You’re fun to tease, I like being good for Oppa” - Y/n’s tone had a spin of that sweetness she always had with Jin when she mentioned him. The answer made Yoongi chuckle, gummy smile on display and mesmerising to her before he shook his head, smiling falling as he caught her eyes again.
“And you don’t like being good for me?” - His words made Y/n’s breath hitch, she tried to think about it but couldn’t think of a time she’d been like she was with Jin for Yoongi.
“Ah right, you’ve never exactly been good for me” - Yoongi answered his own question immediately after asking it, finding Y/n’s mouth opening and closing as she tried to find an excuse
“I would praise you if you were good for me you know, you’d be all happy and bubbly after” - Yoongi knew she liked that, even without experiencing it himself much, the way she reacted for his pack mates when they praised her was enough for him to know he was right.
“Your fun to play with” - Y/n’s words seem to form with a small smile but she did wonder what it would be like to be sweeter and more chilled out around Yoongi, if he was gentle or teasing, with words or small actions like pats on her head.
“I’d be more fun if you just behaved” - He said it trying to seem irritated but he couldn’t hide the small smile pulling at his lips.
“And what good would that do me?” - Y/n said it playfully rolling her eyes to provoke him
“Maybe just try it and see hm?” - Yoongi’s voice seemed to drop multiple octaves when he said that and it did well to keep her quiet, her words dying on her tongue.
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Jungkook eventually took Y/n home as she had a art piece to begin, their drop off went as usual, Y/n falls asleep in the car, Jungkook walks her to the door and when she’s inside he gets a kiss that made her even more embarrassed than usual as she remembered what had happened earlier that day and got shy under his amused gaze. Practically screaming into her pillow when he left, not fully processing the entire day until she was in her own room.
Not only had that happened with Hoseok and Jungkook but she had nested in their pack nesting room with consideration of each members potential preferences, her hybrid side trying to impress them, that alone had her screaming into her pillow again but this time at herself embarrassed at doing something so emotionally intimidate and suggestive when she wasn’t even in their pack. She also had no idea how they would even react, if they would ever mention it, what they would say.
Instead of thinking, Y/n threw herself into the shower and got on with the commission she was meaning to begin, refusing to even look at her phone after thanking Jungkook for a lovely day and a thank you for driving her there and back too. She refused to check for a response and anything else, putting her phone on silent and leaving it as a problem for future her, tomorrow Y/n.
In Bangtans pack home, Y/n’s scent lingered pleasantly strong in the living room and a little in the kitchen. It was strongest in the nesting room but, every room further than the communal living spaces (kitchen, living room ect) were smell proofed to keep scents in rooms, with the door closed no one had any idea what was waiting for them in the room, besides Hoseok who was too busy to have it at the front of his mind for a few hours.
Jimin got home shortly after Y/n left while Namjoon came last, Namjoon had a quite set out routine for straight after he would get back, to help his depart from a work mindset and relax. He’d get in, hang up his coat, greet everyone, shower, change and take 10 minutes or however long he needs to just stop and detach from his day and to refocus his mind before he would go out to everyone. It worked everytime, everyone knew his routine too so he went about it as usual but he’d had a particularly rough case that day so he wanted to spend his unwind time in the nesting room. He’d freshly showered, hair almost dripping still when he made his way to the nest room, not expecting the sweet strawberry scent that would hit him the moment he opened the door, so strong it would almost have him stumbling back. It wasn’t unpleasant, it was delicious to him actually but just unexpected and very strong.
Namjoon could feel a rumble start to grow in his chest as he walked in, from his hybrid observing and trying to understand what was and had happened. There was a perfect nest, heavily scented by Y/n with a little underlying scent of Hoseok and Jungkook, every edge seemed to have been touched up and perfected before she left, it was far from rushed. The pride in his chest was growing by the second when he realised she had made this nest for presentation, leaving it neat for them to find, an offering or perhaps a request. It was clear she had used it, along with the two boys but afterwards she had neatened it up for viewing, or perhaps use. In the middle of a room so full of their scents, filling it up with her happy scent it was like heaven, like he finally felt complete.
Namjoon didn’t even have to sit down in the nest to feel recharged and his stress dissipating as if it never existed, time seemed to disappear around him as 20 minutes passed by in what felt like only 1 or 2. He only moved from his frozen stance when Jin came looking for him, finding him in the room and being almost as stunned as he was by the view and smell inside, he had to take a good look around, almost analysing every little placement as he started to pick out things his pack members would take special liking too, and that he would take special liking too, just like Y/n had hoped. Even if he was more than happy and relaxed in the room he had to know some context, especially as the wolf hybrid in the room was standing with an almost puppy like look in his eyes as he scent beamed around him.
“Joonie, you okay?” - First of all Jin wanted to check up on his mate but when he made eye contact with him he could tell he was more than okay, warm and happy, then it was time to talk to Hoseok and Jungkook to find out what had happened, not that he was complaining.
Jin brought Namjoon back out into the living room but the sweet scent of the nesting room stuck to him and where everyone was regrouped in the living room, no one could resist bringing him close and sniffing, taking in the warmth in the scent mixed with his own. All while waiting for a flustered Jungkook and surprisingly calm Hoseok to explain. They kept it brief, not going into too much detail as not to give too much out and risk upsetting Y/n but Taehyung sat knowingly the entire time, while not being in the room, witnessing what had happened.
Every member who wasn’t aware of the events before (4 of them) were both extremely surprised and truthfully excited at the events, especially when Jin brought it back around to the topic of the nesting room, where everyone found themselves going. They seemed to form a half circle around the bed, staring for moments even if they had already seen it before Jimin couldn’t resist any longer and launched himself into the nest, happily making himself comfortable and making a noise closest to a purr, a vibrating rumble in his chest, his pupils dilated and he held onto parts of the nest tightly but made sure not to mess it up in any way. He was followed quickly by the rest of the members who found themselves having favourite aspects and spots of the nest.
It took a lot of convincing for them all to leave to get into pajamas, any thoughts of their day forgotten as they put on a movie that was barely being watched, each finding themselves far more interested in taking in the pretty best Y/n had made for them, taking every single moment they had to relax in it. Her scent was taken in hungrily by each of the members, happy and relaxed noises falling naturally from each of them, only wishing Y/n was really there in that moment. No one had to address the truth behind the nest, that it meant Y/n was putting forward her own feelings or atleast beginning too and each of them found themselves thinking of ways to court her, to show her how they felt back. She hadn’t just left a piece of clothing or a small gift in one or two of the members bedrooms or anything that would mean she only felt this way towards a few and not all of them, she had made them a nest, in their nesting room where each of their scents were present and they happily held onto that knowledge, that acceptance.
Jungkook couldn’t help but take out his phone, snapping a picture where you could see each and every one of his mates relaxing in the nest in various positions and hesitating for a second before captioning it “pretty nest” and sending it to Y/n with no other context. It was evident how happy they were, with Yoongi’s dopey smile behind his black hair that had been growing quite long recently, Jimins comfortable position on his front with one leg bent up, Taehyungs sleeping face resting on Namjoon’s thigh, Hoseok’s lazy position with his body slack against a pillow, Jin’s hands softly caressing the blankets and pillows she had used to make it and Namjoon’s head thrown back with that stunning smile. They finally felt complete.
All Y/n could do in response was throw her blushing face back into a pillow and screaming into it again, not even knowing how to reply other than “gym tmrw? 💖” as to change the subject but Kook could already see her reaction through the screen, smiling for hours before he happily drifted off.
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Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter and pls lmk your opinions! Asks are open for drabbles and character interviews ect for Strawberry Princess. I really enjoyed this outcome even if it is a bit all over the place in terms of plot but next we will have some focus on members who haven’t had as many scenes!
ཐི♡ཋྀ
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@m00njinnie @singukieee @maisyyyyyy @noortsshift @bunnybears-stuff @autherpj @simeonswif3 @kiki-zb @msrmimi
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