#and then go home and be screamed at again!!! by my own 3 year old!!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fairy-princette · 1 day ago

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i gave your name as my emergency phone call

AO3 link | 1 2 3 4 (you are here) 5 6

Stan receives a postcard from his twin brother - who he's not seen in a decade - asking for his help. But like with everything else in his life, he runs into some trouble on his way there

4. i’ll let the pain metastasize

Ford awoke with a groan to the smell of fresh coffee brewing. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes he looked into the - surprisingly clean - kitchen and saw Fiddleford puttering about. He called out to his old friend to untie him. Or rather, he tried to. His efforts were rather impeded by what felt like a large piece of tape covering his mouth.

“Mmmm, mmmm!”

“Oh, Stanford! You’re awake!” Fiddleford walked over to him and leant down to peer carefully into his eyes. “Good to have you back. Now, this might hurt.”

Before Ford had a chance to prepare himself the tape was ripped from his face and he found himself wishing he’d put more care into shaving the last few days as he felt more than one piece of hair get pulled out with it.

“Did anything-” Ford coughed to clear his throat. “Did anything noteworthy happen during the night? Why was my mouth taped? Why is my throat sore?”

“As far as I’m aware, there was nothing eventful. Bill was mouthin’ off at Stan and apparently he decided this was the best solution. From how he’s telling it Cipher spent most of the night screaming through the tape until he got bored. Stanley’s still asleep upstairs - he was up most of the night watching over you.”Ford nodded in understanding as Fiddleford finished untying the last of his bindings, and followed him through to the kitchen, picking his glasses up off the table.

“You cleaned?”

“Hmm?” Fiddleford looked up from where he was pouring a mug of coffee. “Oh no, it was like this when I came down, must’ve been Stanley. Here.” Ford took the proffered mug. “That should help your throat some. I’d do you some proper honey and lemon but you’re out of, well, everything.”

Ford tried to remember the last time he’d been grocery shopping, but between hiding the journals, fighting off Bill and decommissioning the portal he hadn’t had much time left for the usual mundanities of life. “I might have some canned stuff left in the cupboard?” he offered.

“I saw. There was more snow last night so I didn’t want to risk the roads so soon, so I’ve done us a breakfast of ramen and canned peaches.”

The two of them pulled the same face at the thought of the meal.

“After all this is done I’m going to invent a nutrient powder. Then you could add it to water, or maybe have it in a pill, and have a whole meal and I never have to go to grocery shopping again.”

“Couldn’t be any worse than your usual cooking.”“Hey, I’ll have you know I’ve not burned a single meal in weeks!”“And how many meals have you actually cooked in that time?”

“…”

“My point stands. Now drink up, buttercup, neither of us deserve to have to deal with you uncaffeinated.” The ceiling above them creaked. “Speaking of, sounds like sleeping beauty’s up. How’s he take his coffee?”

Ford paused. “I’m not sure - he used to take it with creamer and two sugars, but that information isn’t exactly up to date. You would be better off asking him.”

He stared down into his own black coffee. He and Stan used to be inseparable, living out of each other’s pockets. They were completely in sync, didn't even need to speak to talk to each other, and now he didn’t even know how he took his coffee int he morning. It was strange seeing him again. He’d been so angry at his twin for so long, nursing his resentment and contempt from him, but now that he was back he just missed him. He hadn’t missed Stanley for ten years, but now he was here, in his home, and somehow he felt further away than he ever had before. Like the emotional distance between them had been obscured by the physical. Last night Stanley had been within arms reach of him and he hadn’t known a single thing to say. Not even how to say hello. How do you go about greeting your estranged twin brother who you haven’t seen in a decade who tried to destroy your life? Where do you even start with that?

Ford was pulled from his thoughts by the thuds of Stanley’s boots as he descended the stairs.

“Morning,” Stanley crossed the kitchen, clapping Ford on the shoulder. “Ford, good to see that fucker’s pissed off. Fiddleford, is that coffee?”

“A fresh pot,” Fiddleford poured out a mug handing it to Stanley.

Stanley took the mug gratefully and sat opposite Ford, grabbing the small amount of creamer and sugar left and pouring them into his coffee. Maybe there were some things that never changed.

———

After their questionable breakfast and second round of coffee the three men sat around the table discussing the best way to destroy the portal. The portal itself was simple enough to destroy, the sticking point was what to do about the journals. Now that Stan didn’t have access to his El Diablo, not to mention the fact that they were still in the middle of a snowstorm, Ford’s so-called plan for him to take the journal and drive off with it across the country with it had gone out the window. Not that there was any world where Stan would finally see his brother again, just to up and leave again. They had been talking in circles for close to an hour, with each suggestion getting more and more outlandish as more and more got shot down.

Stan sighed, running his hand through his hair. God he needed it cut. “I just don’t get why you won’t destroy the journals.” He held his hand up before Ford could interrupt him. “I know, I know, it’s years of work, but if this portal’s as dangerous as you say, is your research really more important than the safety of the entire world?”

Ford let out a huff, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed. “Of course you would suggest that. I wouldn’t expect you to understand, you would have actually had to do something with your life to know what I’m losing.”

“Ford! That was uncalled for!”

“I don’t know what it’s like to lose something? I don’t, Ford?” Stan yelled, barely noticing that Fiddleford had spoken. “You don’t know anything about my life, or anything I’ve been through!”

“Oh please, we all saw your tv adverts, you were doing just fine out there scamming innocent people. Did you even try to get an honest job or do anything worthwhile?”

“Get an- I didn’t even get to finish high school!” Stan’s chair screeched across the floorboards, toppling over from the force of him standing. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but there’s not exactly a queue of people lining up to hire some homeless seventeen year old drop-out who lives in their car. It might not seem like it to you with your house and your job and your university degree, but me being here right now? Being able to find somewhere to sleep, having enough money to eat every day, having clothes on my back, keeping myself alive? That’s the worthwhile thing I’ve done. And yeah, maybe nobody else would give a flying fuck that I managed it - actually I can think of a few who’d rather I didn’t - but I care, so don’t you be sitting there in your ivory tower, all high and mighty! I might’ve made a stupid mistake when I was a kid but I have paid for it and then some. The literal entire world is on the line and you’re too selfish to destroy a few notebooks.”

Stan was breathing heavily as he stormed across the kitchen to the front door.

“They’re not just notebooks, it’s my life’s work!”

Stan spun back round to face his twin. “For God’s sake Ford, we’re not even thirty yet! You’ve not been alive long enough to have a life’s work! Are you really telling me these three journals, that’s it? That’s the best you can manage?” He turned and walked out into the snow. “We both know that’s not true.”

———

Stan shoved his hands deeper into his pockets as he trudged aimlessly through the snow. He might’ve been dressed for Ford’s unheated house, but it definitely wasn’t enough to be out in the remains of a snow storm. Realistically he should go back to the cabin before he starts to develop frostbite, but he really doesn’t want to have to face Ford again. They’d both always had a short fuse and if they ran into each other again now they’d just end up in another screaming match.

He continued to stomp through the snowdrifts, listening to the sounds of the forest; birds cheeped above him, the bushes and undergrowth rustled as small animals scurried about, and a small stream babbled in the distance. A flash of red caught the corner of his eye. Stan turned his head to catch it but was instead left staring a strange stag that had two pairs of antlers in a nearby clearing. The two stared at each other until the stags eyes blinked - out of sync - and it wandered off into the forest, head held high.

———

Ford tugged on his hiking boots and roughly pulled his winter jacket on over his turtle neck, taking the bag that Fiddleford handed him, filled with a spare jacket and woollens. Under normal circumstances he would have happily left Stanley to cool off after his outburst, but he was alone, in an unfamiliar forest, in sub zero temperatures without suitable clothing, in Gravity Falls. One of these circumstances alone would be enough to kill someone, never mind all three combined. Fiddleford had declared that he would wait back at the cabin incase Stanley returned, and would begin work on the calculations needed to safely decommission the portal - much more his area of expertise than Ford’s - while Ford tracked his brother through the snow. After all his time spent researching the anomalies in the forest he had gotten quite good at tracking if he did say so himself, although he doubted he would be requiring those skills with the footprints Stanley left in the fresh snow.

He trekked through the trees, tugging his scarf tight around his neck. Stanley didn’t have a scarf to wear. He double checked the duffle bag to make sure there was one tucked inside. He hadn’t had a scarf when Pa had kicked him out either. It was summer and he presumably went to stay at a friend’s house, but still. They hadn’t had many other friends growing up - it was always the two of them against the world - but he must’ve had some. Stanley had a big personality, he could talk his way into anything, he must have had somewhere to go that night. And the night after that. And all the nights after that. He can’t have been living in his car for ten years, that must be a recent occurrence.

And he had those tv adverts! Yes, Ford nodded to himself, if he had money for tv adverts he must have had income and somewhere to stay; it would be ridiculous to do so otherwise. But the adverts never lasted very long, and they always popped up with a new product, so his business ideas can’t have been very successful. And Stan always had been a bit ridiculous with his ideas, playing the long game for a better pay off later. It would be just like him to pay for a tv advert rather than rent.

And he was still claiming that it was a mistake, an accident, even after all these years. But why? It’s hardly like continuing that lie would help now, or get him out of trouble, they were all far past that. Unless it hadn’t been a lie. Act first, think later was practically the story of Stan’s life. But Pa was so sure, so positive that he had done it vindictively; he must have been otherwise how could he have thrown out his own son? Ford hitched the bag higher on his shoulder. He had gotten Stan’s bag of stuff together very quickly though, like he’d been planning that. Like the science fair was just the excuse he needed to get rid of him and have one less mouth to feed.

He continued to hike through the forest, lost in thoughts of the past, following Stan’s tracks and ignoring the occasional gnome that ran underfoot. After half an hour of walking, though it felt longer having to pull his feet through the snow, Ford saw Stan’s silhouette at the top of a small outcrop, looking out of the valley. He pulled himself up the short rise to stand next to him, looking down across the tops and trees and the lake.

The pair stood in silence, admiring the view. Rays of sunlight shone across the clear blue sky, twinkling on the blanket of snow was laid over the valley below them. The same light glistened on the waves of the lake, the boats moored at the jetty bobbing in the water.

“Y’know, it’s a really beautiful place you’ve found to live.”“You should see it the summer, the sun reflecting off the lake, all the creatures filling the forest with life. It’s something else.”

“Saw a weird deer earlier with double antlers.”“Ah, that’d be Henry. There’s a page or two on him in the first journal. His eyes glow when he’s near acidic soil.”

“Ford?”

“Yeah?”

Stanley turned to face him. “That’s really fucking weird.”

The two stared at each other before Ford’s mouth twitched and they both broke into laughter.

“This entire place is fucking weird - there’s a glade over there,” Ford gestured vaguely east, “Where a magical unicorn lives and I’ve had to get locks for my trash cans because the gnomes keep getting in.”

Ford slid the duffle bag off his shoulder, “Here, F grabbed you some layers - jumper, coat, gloves, the whole nine yards.”

Stanley dropped the bag and dug out the clothes, quickly pulling on the extra layers. “I swear, that man is an angel in disguise.”“Don’t I know it - I probably wouldn’t have survived my undergrad if he hadn’t been such a mother hen, making sure I ate and slept.”

“Good to know someone else took after I-” Ford watched as Stanley’s face closed off and he turned away. “It’s good to know you had someone looking out for you.”

Ford turned back to the view, dropping his arms by his side. “You were right, earlier.” He watched from the corner of his eye as Stanley froze. “I can do more research. Hell, if I wanted to I could do the same research again, it’s hardly like the anomalies have gone anywhere. But if that portal gets activated, if Bill manages to connect us to the Nightmare Realm, this’ll all be gone. It won’t matter what research I’ve done or if I prove my Unified Theory of Weirdness if there’s no-one left to see.”

Ford watched as Stan turned to stare at him wide-eyed before slowly lifting his hand towards his forehead. Ford quickly batted the hand away. “What are you doing?”

“I’m checking for a fever. There’s no way you would admit I’m right and agree to destroy your own work. Are you ill? Did you get bit by something in the forest? What’s wrong with you?”“Nothing is wrong, Stanley, I’ve simply been in quite a few situations in the last few weeks that have forced me to acknowledge my own errors, and what sort of scientist would I be if I could not learn form my own mistakes? Now, I don’t know about you but I’m absolutely freezing, shall we head back to the cabin?”

Stanley nodded his assent and they began to carefully descend the small hill, following their footprints back through the woods.

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” Stanley asked, “About seeing this place in the summer?”

“Well, I- yes, of course. I mean, I’m sure you have your own life to be getting back to, and I’m very appreciative that you dropped everything so quickly to come help me, but if you maybe wanted to stay after we fix all this, or maybe come to visit, I would not be opposed to the idea.”

Ford stumbled to the side slightly as Stan nudged him with his shoulder. “‘Not opposed to the idea’, calm down there Sixer, don’t want to sound too enthusiastic,” he laughed. He pulled away slightly, withdrawing into his own space. “I’d love to. I’ve missed you, Ford.”

“I miss you too Stan.”

The pair continued walking side by side, retracing their footprints through the deep snow towards the cabin.

One of the many thoughts that had been niggling away in Ford’s brain floated to the surface. “Last night, what was Bill saying that was so bad it warranted taping my mouth shut?”

“Oh, just the usual - ‘you’ll never amount to anything’, ‘everyone thinks you’re a waste of space’, ‘why even bother coming back’. Honestly Sixer, are you sure you made a deal with a demon and it’s not just dear old Pa?” Stan laughed self-depreciatingly.

Ford felt his face fall. “Stan, that’s-” He cut himself off, suddenly aware of how quiet the forest had become. Gone was the birdsong, the rustling of the undergrowth and occasional yelp of gnome, leaving just the crunch of their feet through the snow. “Stanley, when you saw Henry earlier did you bow to him?”

Stan looked at him incredulously. “Why would I bow to a weird deer in the woods? It’s a deer.”

“I expected as much. We should get back as quickly as possible.”“Is something wrong? Is there more weird stuff?”

“Everything is absolutely fine and we are both being very calm about it, but we are walking faster.”

A screech sounded from amongst the trees.

“Actually, we’re running.”

Ford grabbed Stan by the wrist and dragged him after him, weaving through the trees in a much more direct path towards the cabin.

“What- is- happening?” Stan panted behind him.

“Short answer - Henry’s a prideful asshole who’s decided this part of the woods is his territory and doesn’t take kindly to ‘slights’,” Ford yelled back, jumping over a rock, his twin in tow behind him. “Those antlers are very sharp.” He heard the sound of hooves on snow and glanced back to see the stag gaining on them.

“Don’t look back, it slows you down,” Stan shouted, still being partially dragged by Ford.

Ford spun his head back round just in time to see another rock protruding from the snow, catching his ankle and sending him tumbling to the ground, dragging Stanley with him. The two tumbled in a heap of limbs through the thickets until they ran out momentum. Stan was thrown into a tree, his shoulder hitting the trunk with a sickening crunch, while Ford rolled through the snow, using the force to roll onto all-fours. Henry stood above them, its eyes glowing a sickening green. A small hysterical part of Ford’s mind wondered the acidity of the soil as the deer hissed and pawed at the ground, fixing its stance to impale Stanley.

#I gave your name as my emergency phone call #stan pines #ford pines #fiddleford mcgucket #gravity falls #gravity falls fic

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cowardlycowboys · 2 years ago

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if u ever get baby fever working at a daycare really curbs that!

#omg kiera no one cares #everytime *I* get baby fever I'm like remember blowouts??? vomit?? that time king almost spit up in your mouth?#and then I'm like I'm good<3 #plus like I'm EXHAUSTED from working with them all day kids can be so mean!!! to each other and you!!! I don't wanna be screamed at at work #and then go home and be screamed at again!!! by my own 3 year old!!!!#I'd hang myself!!!!#when king went through a mean phase towards me i cried endlessly and wanted to kill myself because i didn't understand what i did to make #my sweet baby boy hate me #he's better now he's my sweet angel and a big helper i love him so much my bff #but anyway this is because my friend on twitter was like give me children horror stories like boy! do i have many!!

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lizzobetumblin · 9 months ago

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Melissa hated her feelings.

She buried them in a chest in the 5th grade (along with her ability to express them). Other peoples' feelings on the other hand was her forte. She could process, decipher and regurgitate other peoples emotions effortlessly. This gift could’ve taken her through college, all the way to a degree in psychology. Distinguished Dr. Jefferson with a PhD and a cozy office and impressive roster of high-profile, weallthy clients was a shiny idea. Fate would have a different hand for Melissa her talents were exhausted on mediating family fights, friend group drama, and charming her way out of confronting her own feelings.

“Feelings.” Even saying it out loud to herself seemed silly. Something reserved for ‘cry babies’ and water signs. Typical Sunday nights started tame, reading or writing fan-fiction and drinking cranapple juice. And then like clock work her father would yell her name,

‘MELISSA!!!’ Emotionless, she’d get up dust off her Winnie the Pooh shorts and make her way downstairs. On the long walk down the hall to the stairs leading to the living room brawl, she’d go through her check list:

1.) Don’t cry.

2.) Stay neutral; Deescalate

3.)Don’t take anything personal. This isn’t about you

She padded down the carpeted stairs in her old soft socks to see her mother tightlipped and tear streaked thinking,

‘she broke rule number 1’. Her father, Michael was proud and angry, his big belly filled with self righteousness. She knew he would be unyielding in his resolve and at this point her only option was to deescalate.

‘Rule number 2’. Then her sister the water sign and calamity for the evening sat on the floor nearly fetal, face red and raw with emotion.

‘Its not your fault’ Melissa wanted to say ‘You just didn’t follow the rules… you’re loved.’ But she couldn’t say that because she’d be breaking rule number 3. It wasn’t about how Melissa felt. Even though she felt like screaming,

“VANESSA, YOU DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG. DAD—YOU JUST HAVE PENT UP ANGER BECAUSE YOU GREW UP IN THE HOOD OF DETROIT AS A BLACK MAN IN THE 60s AND 70s. YOU NEED A HEALTHY OUTLET LIKE.. I DONT KNOW… THERAPY?!?!?! THIS IS A WASTE OF ALL OF OUR TIME. I LITERALLY JUST WROTE THE BEST SAILOR SATURN x CHIBI USA FANFICTION EVER AND THIS IS KILLING MY VIBE!”

Instead, she decide to hear every one out. She decided to help. To calm her dragon of a father down. To be a translator for her emotional sister. To not take it personal. To stay neutral. To not cry.

9 years later, at her fathers funeral she still never broke the rules. She played her flute and spoke at his memorial. She was present for her mother because it wasn’t about her. When other peoples' emotions bubbled up she stayed neutral. She sat through both services and she did not cry. It wasn’t until she excused herself to make a phone call outside did she collapse onto the stairs of the funeral home and weep alone in the cold Detroit snow.

It’s okay to break the rules sometimes, she reminded herself. As long as no one else sees it.

Traumas began to compact on Melissa, as they do. Humans tend to collect traumas like pebbles on a long hike. We toss them into our backpacks and keep moving forward. Some hikers would falter, but Melissa was built for this. She’d carried the stones of her family’s traumas uphill for years. She was strong.

When men began to befriend and reject her, saying ‘you’re too good for me’ but not too good to make them feel good. She carried that.

When childhood friends began to cut off the strings of her heart, saying ‘We can’t be friends anymore’. She carried that.

When her family separated like dandelion seeds, it seemed like they’d never be together again. Melissa slept on so many couches, floors and car seats sometimes she didn’t know if she’d see them again.

She carried that.

Dying was never an option though sometimes she didn’t mind the thought of it. Peace and warmth were two things she’d desperately yearned and hadn’t felt fully since the womb. Then one night in the pitch black of the hot, sweaty, roach-infested studio in southeast Houston she slept in she wondered:

‘Why can’t I break the rules?’ She’d seen everyone else in her life break them like popsicle sticks. And she didn’t just want to break the rules, she wanted to break them boldly and loudly and annoyingly and honestly and sloppily like every one else gets to do. It was in that moment, tucked in a thin jacket inside of an 8-foot high instrument cubby in the inky darkness—it hit her.

‘Is my suffering for a high purpose? Or is my suffering trying to kill me?’

She cried.

She escalated.

She took it personal.

But it wasn’t enough. She wanted to scream in a microphone in a sea of shadowy faces. She drank whiskey and wove her pain into rock music.

‘Music is my boyfriend’ she declared. The only man that kept his baggage to hisself. And it healed her. It gave her voice reason and purpose.

The pebble-laden hike became lighter with time. The incline eventually evened out to flat, beautiful landscapes where the breeze finally met her back. She knew it wasn’t gonna be easy or sunshine but even the rain cleansed her and it was beautiful too.

Somewhere in the rain she decided rules were meant to be built and broken. Like trust and love and friendships and families. Because every thing deserves the opportunity to change and grow.

So... She broke rule number 1 on stage while singing a beautiful song. Dr. Jefferson (PhD) screamed for her to stop but she didn’t listen and the tears flowed like rivers of emotion down her cheeks.

Rule number 2 was broken when she grew older and saw the injustices of the world. Marching with hundreds in protest she realized not everything needs to be pacified.

And one day when she finally fell in love, she broke rule number 3. No matter how much training she’d done she couldn't help but take every thing her lover said and did personal. But it was ok. Because in all her resistance she realized breaking rules was her power.

Melissa began to fall for her feelings. Her feelings gave life purpose. They weren’t always logical, as feelings seldom are. They were sloppy and embarrassing and rude and so fucking uncomfortable. But they were hers. And they were real. And when she sat alone sipping wine, staring at the moon…They were the only ones still by her side. Ready to break the rules for her because they loved her.

And she finally loved them back.

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theoldsports · 8 months ago

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SHITHEAD.

Art Donaldson x Reader.

warnings: a lot of them. 18+, slapping, begging, major angst, brat!Art, an argument with make up sex. Art is really manipulative because… he is a bit and we all know it. [Y/N] is very ill-tempered too. it’s dirty.

can be a part ii to SPONTANEOUS, or read as a standalone. this is my favorite piece of writing i have published on this account.

The bed was empty beside [Y/N]. She stared at Art’s empty side of the bed. The soft green sheets and mix-matched pillowcases went unoccupied. Not because he wasn’t home, but because [Y/N] hated Art so he had to sleep downstairs on the couch.

It wasn’t that she really hated Art. She did hate him right now. Not in a funny way. Their drive home had been silent. Poor Art didn’t know how to facilitate conversation that wouldn’t worsen the situation. His sorrowful eyes, but honest eyes kept glancing from the road to where [Y/N] sat in the passenger seat. The real showdown had started between them something awful when the door to their house slammed shut.

See, Art cried when he got mad. Or sad. Or profoundly excited. Their wedding photos were two-thirds Art crying and trying not to show that he was crying.

Art hadn’t cried tonight yet. That pissed [Y/N] off. She was furious and he seemed to feel absolutely zero discernible feelings about that.

They argued all the time. It rarely lasted all too long.

It was different this time. When [Y/N] started to say something cruel or shout or weep, Art got a little smaller, but he alarmingly stood his ground. He averted his gaze and said “I respectfully disagree,” or “What the fuck do you know about how I feel?” in a dangerously level tone.

Fighting with Art about this wasn’t fun. He was too cool about. He knew he was right. [Y/N] wanted to yell and scream because Art was so relaxed and condescending in his tone. When the man who had spent his teenage years getting referred at competition after competition as literally Ice tonelessly said: “Jesus Christ, aren’t you bored yet? What, going to over-explain the same information to me again, or…?” Finally, that had made [Y/N] drag herself to bed and yank the door closed violently enough that she felt the metallic vibration run all the way up to her shoulder.

And she was still laying there, staring at Art’s side of the bed.

At the Zweig’s party that night, there were a few hot topics in the Donaldsons’ sphere:

1) Lots of congratulations from people that had known them grow up, but hadn’t seen them since the wedding or prior.

This was mostly very kind. It dragged that smirk up Art’s face and caused his fingers to dig tighter into [Y/N]’s waist. That look of pride and tenderness on his face was more than welcome.

2) Lots of questions about Patrick. His lack of attendance was felt.

Both Donaldsons dodged these question as much as they could. Art kept an eye on [Y/N]’s liquor consumption. He knew how embarrassed she would be if she said something she regretted in front of Patrick’s family. Patrick had hurt them both, but Art’s heart went out to [Y/N]. Her world had been built around Patrick’s from a young age. Art was trying to engineer his own world higher around her so she wouldn’t be able to see the old place and people that had burned her over the walls.

3) “You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

With Art keeping an eye on [Y/N]’s drinking, she hadn’t really been keeping an eye on him. She just assumed he would keep his shit together. Art drinking in public was never really a concern. He wasn’t a big drinker anyway. At this point, his career mattered more and he was approaching his mid-twenties which made him feel surely less young than he had once. He wasn’t a casual beer guy either. It was Patrick who liked beer and Art who would have a moledo or something sometimes. Art did like white girl drinks, though. Tequila and fruity stuff. He had been able to shoot shot after shot of vodka like a pro in college at a season-end celebration.

Art was a tight-lipped man, but he was a giggly drunk who he got pretty comfortable talking out of his ass from behind a glass with an umbrella in it. Art was rarely comfortable with anything, so a drink or two at a party was welcome to him.

Another important point of context is that the largest point of tension between Art and [Y/N] was starting a family. They desperately wanted a child together, but they disagree on when. [Y/N] felt like she was fresh out of college, so she figured they had plenty of time. Art felt that he was fresh out of college, so he figured they may as well get to it.

Their arguments about this were once semi-regular. In the last four months or so, Art timidly bowed out and hoped [Y/N] would tell him when she was ready (sooner rather than later). He got tired of the low-tier shouting matches. Instead, he would pick fights about things that were decidedly lower stakes when he was bored.

Art had let [Y/N] field comments about family planning throughout the night. Unfortunately, when Art was polishing off a second drink, he ran his mouth a little bit.

Knowing he was the designated driver that night, Art did go easy. Art was also, like, five pounds. While he could hold his liquor with grace, he always got giggly. He watched with heavy eyelids as [Y/N] walked away to collect another drink following the dinner portion of the evening. The paper placecards with their shared last name emblazoned on them rested comfortably in Art’s inner jacket pocket to be kept as a memory.

Some guy who sold boat insurance and liked to rub elbows with talent was talking Art’s ear off. Art couldn’t remember his name, but [Y/N] would know it.

This was the precise moment that got Art in trouble.

Because when the guy whose name Art was sure started with an R said: “So! You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

Art said:

“Any day now, I hope. Tomorrow. I’m good to go. [Y/N] thinks now’s not a great time for her.”

He had said it with a smirk and a stupid little laugh. It was basically locker room talk. Big deal. He would’ve said it to Patrick with [Y/N] present in the room. This guy wasn’t Patrick and he was technically speaking behind her back.

Art had forgotten how close they were standing to the bar. He had forgotten that the frequency of his pitchy tenor was known to carry. He had forgotten that he was well known to be an instigator of fights even though he never actually threw the first punch. He had forgotten that he hadn’t been whispering. He had forgotten that this guy… Richy? Ronnie? was pretty much a stranger who had no business knowing their business.

Now, Art was sleeping on the couch and his side of the bed was empty.

Jackass.

[Y/N] stared still at the empty bed and didn’t know how to articulate her upset to an Art who had seemingly yet to feel ashamed.

She had a headache and was tired. But sleep wasn’t going to come easy and all she had to look forward to was a hangover.

Art didn’t really snore, but he was a heavy breather when he slept. The lack of his white noise made the A/C blowing and the stairs creaking too loud. Maybe all of this was on [Y/N] for making Art uncomfortable, she dared to think.

Then she reminded herself that it was Art’s fault for talking too much and for drinking when he knew he was supposed to drive home.

[Y/N] rolled over to face away from Art’s spot. All she could think about is how his hands always sleepily pawed at her to pull her back when she got too far away from him before he fell asleep.

“So, what’d you do?” Patrick asked.

“She hates me.” Art replied. It was almost a question.

“I asked what you did, not what she feels. She already told us what she feels and it’s that she hates you.” Patrick stated. When Patrick had stopped through town for a match, he had come by for dinner with, well, his best friends. This had been right after they’d gotten engaged.

Art sniffled. He didn’t want to cry in front of Patrick. Art would sooner cry in front of his own father. Both men would have laughed in his face, but it would have stung more from Patrick. “We got into a fight yesterday. A big one. Like, the first, uh, big one. She’s worried about the f—“

“The future? Please,” Patrick said bitterly. He frowned and his jaw tightened, but he combatted it by tossing Art a smile before the other man noticed the tension. “Stupid. You’re gonna marry her. You’ll play tennis. She’ll do her… columns? Articles. I don’t get what it is that she does—“

“She writes for—“

“Sure, yeah. You’re gonna have two kids so you can each pick a favorite one. And she’s gonna be a pain in your ass forever. Don’t be a pussy.”

Art sniffled again and stared at the floor. “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. I didn’t think I did,” Art said meekly. “I don’t get it. She gets so mad sometimes. At me.” Patrick stared at him blankly. Art had to know that he was usually at least a little bit the problem.

“Did she do the thing where she calls you a—“

“Shithead bastard?”

“Shithead bastard.” Both boys said at the same time. Art dragged his hands through his hair and looked up at Patrick. Both of them quirked a smirk at the other.

“See,” Patrick started. “You’ll be fine. Fuckin’ go after her.”

“And say what!”

“Uh… ‘I’m sorry?’ You do that kinda shit. She’ll like that.”

It was impossible to know how long [Y/N] laid there. The clock was on Art’s side and she would get spitting mad if she rolled back over.

She could just go downstairs and tell Art to come back to bed. He was probably sleeping just fine.

“Hey, hon, you don’t hate me, right?” Art’s voice whispered in the darkness.

[Y/N] was fairly certain she had imagined it. She had not heard his sweaty feet on the stairs or his fingers against the doorknob. Quickly, [Y/N] whipped over to face the door behind her.

There was Art. His sweatpants sat low on his hips and his shirt was long gone. Clothing didn’t often survive the night on Art’s back.

Really, she couldn’t help but wonder how long it had taken Art to work through coming upstairs so quietly. “Mm?” [Y/N] groaned in question.

Art rocked his right shoulder into the doorway to lean. His arms were crossed and his eyes straight ahead on her from what [Y/N] could tell in the glow of the hallway’s thermostat. “Please just tell me you don’t hate me and I’ll let you go back to sleep. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

With a sigh, [Y/N] sat up and rolled her cracking shoulders back. “I don’t hate you, Art.” Her heart melted a little bit. [Y/N] knew it was immature, but her special attack in arguments since childhood was to bandy around the word hate a lot. Not that she had said it to Art tonight, but she had no doubt said it before. More than once. More times than she could count, maybe.

She was surprised Art had never asked this before. That surprise hurt in an a way that was too complex to describe. “I could never hate you.” [Y/N] continued, voice hushed only because it was dark out.

Art’s posture relaxed slightly. “You promise you don’t?” Said Art’s evermore crippling lack of self-confidence.

“I promise.” [Y/N] replied calmly.

“Okay. Thank you.” Art said in a small voice.

“I love you, baby. I don’t hate you. You shouldn’t have to ask that. I’m sorry I made you feel like you even have to ask that.”

Art frowned sharply. “No, I’m the one that should be sorry. You told me nicely not to talk about—“

“Don’t play that. You have to know you don’t feel like you did anything wrong, so you don’t have to invent a situation where you’re some horrible person.”

Art was silent.

[Y/N] continued. “I’m pissed because you told Randy,” RANDY. His name was RANDY. That’s it. “Our business. My business, really. He’s an asshole. It’s fine. Well, not now, but eventually. But you kinda martyred yourself on it. You don’t have to do that and I don’t hate you. You know I don’t… Right?”

“I’m sorry.” Art said quickly. He was gifted at making every single minor problem his own fault. He knew he was a little bit of an awful person for that, but he would die before admitting it. Art would hide behind his martyring habit as long as his cross could hold him, though. [Y/N] hadn’t noticed before this moment, but she could see the shining of his eyes in the digital blue-green glow. Tears. This time, less than obvious waterworks. Aw.

“I’m sorry. I’m still pissed at you for running your mouth, but I’m sorry too.”

Art nodded, said nothing else and reached for the doorknob.

Here is a frustrating thing about Art.

He said he was going to leave for downstairs once [Y/N] said she didn’t hate him. He started to make good on that vow. If he says something, he’s going to do it, even though he doesn’t have to do it.

“Come on,” [Y/N] called louder than she’d been whispering. “Come here, pretty baby.”

Pretty Baby by Blondie had been their wedding song. She had been calling him that for almost as long as she had known him. Saying it, or hearing the song always made that stunning, small crooked smile stretch up beyond his sad puppy eyes all the way to his ears.

Art’s kryptonite was pretty baby. They both knew it.

He turned to look at her with a slight blush on his cheeks, almost visible in the dark. Art shifted one of his feet childishly over the other in apprehension.. “Don’t make me say it again. I don’t like to ask twice.” [Y/N] reminded him.

After a hasty nod, Art was in bed before he [Y/N] blinked. The blonde sat bolt upright beside [Y/N] with his eyes wide. Hesitant, but coyly so. He knew this pattern. The agony and shame from her brutality would only last so long. Housepets loved to cause trouble for treat.

Not to say that Art liked to start fights so he could play some low-status lapdog that got to feel his wife’s fingers comb through his hair the way he liked as a reward for an apology. The man bit his cheek to avoid a devious smirk. A part of him did like to do that sometimes, though.

He always got away with it. He was such a nice boy.

[Y/N] rolled her eyes and leaned back into the threadbare pillows. With a finger, she beckoned Art nearer. Hesitation eliminated, Art flopped slowly down beside [Y/N]; she on her back, he on his side, facing her. Delicately, Art’s fingers dragged down [Y/N]’s arm to curl in her fingers.

Not long after that, his plush mouth climbed down from her neck. Then shoulders and collarbones. Then bicep. Elbow. Forearm and wrist. Down her hand to her silver-studded ring finger. Each kiss with accompanied with an honest and dutiful I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. He was sorry. Genuinely. Sorry for the upset he brought his wife, but not the cause. Art’s beautiful duel-colored eyes glanced up at [Y/N]’s blown pupils through her own fingers.

“I didn’t mean to talk about you like that… I just… I love you so much that I want more of you. That’s all, honey,” Art laid his head on [Y/N]’s upper chest and his mouth moved against the front of her throat. “I’m just a little stupid, huh…”

Under his lips, Art could feel the rumble of a laugh rip through [Y/N]’s throat. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair to hold him in place. “Do-don’t talk about yourself like that,” she mumbled and gave his hair a lovely tug with both hands. He whimpered. [Y/N] wanted to bottle that sound. Art would always remember what she said next and how she said it: “Only I get to talk about you like that… St-stupid.”

This was the version of [Y/N] he was going to remember when he thought of her every day for the rest of his life. That sentence, the way her hair hung from where he had pushed it away from her neck. The sting of the cold metal from her wedding ring on the back of his neck and the stone of her engagement ring pressing into where he reached his palm to place his hand over hers. There was just the wrong amount of clothes between them. Her eyes ringed smoky from the makeup smudges and the exhaustion.

“Say it again.” Art whispered, swinging a knee over [Y/N]’s thighs so he could stare down at her. His forehead pressed softly against [Y/N]’s.

[Y/N]’s mouth fell open slightly with a breathy exhalation. Holy shit. “What, pretty baby, you want me to tell you how stupid you are? You like that?” [Y/N] almost whispered into Art’s still lips. He was too shocked to kiss her back, but too turned on to pull away. Art whimpered louder than before. [Y/N] felt him nod.

So she didn’t hold back. “You think I need to punish you after you behaved like that today or something? You need to atone for what a moron you were, shithead?” [Y/N] kept her tone light enough to just about tease as her nose trailed along the side of his. Her objective was to belittle. Her nails slid down Art’s muscular, sturdy back.

They both knew Art was a masochist on his worst days. Did he get off on being degraded sometimes? Sure. But this series of events was ridiculously new and exciting for [Y/N]. And shockingly obviously for Art too.

His hips pressed into her pathetically. “What? Did you need help with something?” She asked innocently when she felt Art’s hard-on against her thigh. [Y/N] kissed him distractingly warmly for how she was treating him. Art’s head spun and he couldn’t seem to make sense of anything anymore. He had backed himself into the best kind of corner.

Across Art’s hips and side went [Y/N]’s left hand, to the front of his sweatpants. Humiliatingly, Art blinked tears out of his eyes and screwed them shut. His mouth opened and closed, but no intelligent sound came out. [Y/N] planted a kiss at the corner of his parted lips. His strong arms boxed [Y/N] protectively in from above, but she had him locked into place, really. “Baby, if you want something, you know you have to ask for it.”

“Nnh,” Art tried, eyes stuck shut. His attention was mostly spent hold himself up over his wife. His insanely gorgeous wife. [Y/N]’s other hand grabbed his jaw tenderly. He still didn’t look at her. Art was gathering his courage. “Yo-you already told me I couldn’t have what I wanted.”

With a sharp inhale, [Y/N] grip went from gentle to nonexistent. At the lack of contact, Art’s damp eyes crept open one at a time to see if his brattiness had overstepped the situation. His frightened eyes caught [Y/N]’s. She popped the side of his face sharply with an open palm. Art blinked and tipped his head to the side like a dog.

That was big trouble, huh?

“Fuck,” he said. Both of them panted in sync. “I’m sorry.” He meant it.

[Y/N] pulled Art’s face to hers and kissed him hard. “I love… you.” She said.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson #challengers movie

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ateliersss · 1 year ago

Text

Blooming Family Part 3 - He Shan‘t Lose

Pairing: Yautja x F!Reader Summary: Mere two months ago, you returned home after the incident on Earth. Now you were back, ready to indulge yourself and go on the weekly "date night" with your mate. If only your unborn pup had better timing… Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 6,716 Part 1: here Part 2: here Masterlist

⇨ Oh, I missed my Mi‘ytiar.

⇨ I can't believe I finally got this done and I'm able to present this to you. Also, my birthday, guys! God, I'm 20 and I already feel old. Please spoil me with comments, re-blogs and likes.

⇨ Want to join the tag list?

“Be'jaa, go! Go! Good boy.” You laughed as you watched your four-legged companion chase after the trail he had scented.

Hell Hounds, they were called, and probably the closest thing to a pet you could get on Yautja Prime. You learned quickly, after your first encounter with them, that they were similar to the hounds on Earth, and like hounds on Earth, they had one purpose — hunting prey.

Unlike a curious Beagle, a devoted Pointer, or a stubborn Basset Hound, Hell Hounds were more similar to Yautjas than dogs, both in looks and characteristics. But you still could recognize some traits that reminded you of your childhood dog.

You didn’t hunt with Hell Hounds often — it was more special and intimate when it was just you and Mi‘ytiar — but your mate had insisted that at least one of them should accompany you. As experience showed, the two of you had to split up at times; sometimes he also kept in the shadows, high on top of a tree, to watch you hunt on your own. It was simply a safety measure.

It wasn’t like you couldn’t handle the prey on your own. The creatures you hunted were either as small as a cat or as big as a horse. They were insignificant opponents, laughable for a Yautja and not nearly on their hunting standard, but Mi‘ytiar felt different. He didn‘t care how tiny or weak the prey was compared to him.

It wasn't about him, after all.

Those hunts were solely for you, so you could be a part of his culture without him having to worry about endangering your life.

He had been ecstatic when you voiced your wish years ago for him to teach you how to hunt, how to track and kill as it was custom on his home planet. And even now, after you had exceeded his expectations, he still was immensely proud of you every time you succeeded.

No, Be'jaa wasn’t only there for tracking or for flushing out his targets but also for guarding. You were in the final stages of your pregnancy, and your strength, your speed, and your stamina had decreased, leaving you more vulnerable should prey ambush you.

Speaking of him, he had been gone for quite some time.

“Be'jaa?” You called, whistled, and waited for a moment for him to return to you.

When you neither could hear him bark, or see him running towards you, you tried calling him again, “Be'jaa?”

And again.

“Be–”

The other half of his name turned into a strained whimper as a stabbing pain pierced through your body, coming from your stomach. You stifled a scream, but when something wet suddenly ran down your legs, a shaky breath escaped your lips.

You knew what this meant.

Your water just broke.

“Oh no. Not now, my sweetling.”

Clutching your stomach, breathing in and out, you slowly approached a tree and practically slumped against it. One of your hands gripped the meaty texture of the tree trunk for support while the other snaked down and between your thighs. When you pulled your hand back, it was coated with the clear substance of the amniotic fluid.

And blood. There was also blood on your fingers, but it was nothing too alarming. When you had been pregnant with Akail, there had been blood too, but it was still an unsettling sight to you.

“Ahhh!” You cried out as another wave of agonizing pain washed through you, your head thrown back.

As much as you had enjoyed the mostly perfect pregnancy, you had completely forgotten about birthing the pup at the end. Maybe you had just pushed the whole thing aside since the mere memory of Akail‘s birth was still able to instill that deep-rooted dread within your body.

You went into labor when both moons were at their zenith.

Mi’ytiar, who had slept peacefully next to you, was hovering over you the second you tried to wake him up.

It took one panicked look from you and he knew what was going on.

He got up from his lying position on your nest and knelt beside you.

You had already pushed the furs you used as a blanket to the side and he saw your legs shining with moisture in the moonlight.

“My water broke.” You faintly answered his silent question. “Our little one is coming.”

Mi’ytiar was on high alert as he knew what that meant.

He tried to lift you into his arms, his mind fully set on bringing you to Cahrein, the healer, but unfortunately, a contraction hit you right at that moment. The pain, plus the one you felt as Mi’ytiar lifted you up, ripped a heart-wrenching scream from your throat.

It hurt so very much that you punched him out of instinct, an instinct telling you to do anything to stop the pain, hitting him right in the face.

You looked up at him with wide eyes. “Oh God, Mi‘ytiar. I’m so sorry.”

His heart clenched at that.

You shouldn’t apologize. He’d barely felt the impact anyways, your human strength too weak to actually hurt him, but he didn’t deserve to not feel anything.

He should have felt pain, should have been knocked from his feet.

He had hurt you, had caused you more pain than you were already feeling.

You noticed the guilty expression on your mate’s face and grabbed his hand. “It’s okay, tahní. It‘s o–”

You cut yourself off as you pressed your lips together while another contraction hit you.

“–kay. It’s okay.” You panted, “Just get Cahrein.”

Mi’ytiar shook his head determinedly as he placed his free hand on yours, which clasped his other hand in a death grip.

“Cannot leave you.” He growled.

Another contraction made you cry out, “Mi’ytiar, please!”

It took a lot of persuasion for him to finally leave your side to get the healer.

You understood that he didn‘t want to leave you on your own, out of fear something bad would happen to you if he let you out of his sight only for a second, but you needed Cahrein to deliver your son safely.

The healer had gotten to work as soon as his eyes met your tiny, withering body. Putting aside the various instruments he had taken with him — you recognized them from one of your visits where he had shown you which ones he used for births — he helped you to remove the panties that you wore with the little piece of clothing you called nightie, which you had already pulled up, over your bulging stomach, and out of the way.

Usually, you and your mate slept naked with nothing shielding you from each other’s skin, but since you got closer and closer to your due day, you wanted to be prepared. You wanted to keep at least a little of your dignity, not wanting to lie completely bare in front of Cahrein.

Even though you knew he wouldn‘t care, taking his job far too seriously for that, your body in all its naked glory was meant for Mi’ytiar‘s eyes and Mi’ytiar‘s eyes only.

With your mate on one side and the healer on the other, you spent hours in indescribable agony.

Mentally, you were so far gone, blacking out for a second here and there. You barely caught how Mi’ytiar was insistently talking to you or how Cahrein alternately injected you with a transparent and a bright green fluid.

It felt like a miracle when the unbearable pain decreased bit by bit but not fully disappeared. Your fuzzy mind and your blurry view started to clear.

With the pain now more bearable, you could finally focus on the natural instinct that told you to push.

What you didn’t know was that the following screams and cries woke up the clan in alarm, gathering almost everyone in front of your home, eagerly awaiting the new addition.

This occasion was special, after all. Their fierce and mighty leader was expecting his first pup, something no one had expected to happen. Ever.

The tense uncertainty inside and outside of your home dissipated as soon as the whiny squeals of your newborn pup finally filled the air.

“Such a bad timing, my sweetling.” You mewled.

Tears were gathering in your eyes and you quickly blinked them away. You didn’t know if it was because of the pain of the contractions, which were now four minutes apart, or out of fear of being all alone in a hostile environment.

With your tongue between your teeth, you waited until the pain subsided, fully intending to call for your mate, but when you did, his name only escaped your lips in a short-winded whisper.

It was like you couldn’t breathe.

Biting back a sob, you formed your hand into a fist and hit your chest repeatedly, trying to get yourself to breathe regularly again. And when you thought you had enough air in your lungs, you bellowed, “Mi’ytiar!”

Your breath hitched and tears finally streamed down your cheeks. You bend your upper body forward, towards the tree, and pressed the palms of your hands against the tree trunk. With your head facing the ground, tears left your eyes and rolled down the bridge of your nose before dripping down the tip to the forest floor.

You were crying and panting, your body clenching every time another contraction hit you.

“Mi’ytiar, please, please… I need you… please, please.” You begged, your voice barely audible.

Contentment.

That’s all you could feel as you adjusted your lying position on the soft fur and the woolen and cotton fabrics of your nest. It was living up to its name as it reminded you of an actual nest, a bird’s nest; just as round but with more comfortable materials. Mi’ytiar had been very picky, something that amused you to no end.

That and the fireplace embedded into the floor, enclosing the round platform the nest was on, kept you warm and cozy.

You and the pup that was sleeping on your chest.

Little Akail let out little purrs while he enjoyed the warmth of his mother’s body, which kept him tranquil and happy.

Only ten hours old and he already had such a significant place in this clan and his parent’s hearts.

You hummed quietly to your pup, only looking up from the endearing sight when Mi’ytiar entered your home and came to a halt in front of your nest, taking in the very welcome view of his (tantalizing naked) mate and his newborn son.

“Don’t get any ideas.” You warned him playfully when you noticed his heated gaze racking over your body.

“Back on Earth, some parents hold their babies like this. The skin and warmth forges a strong bond between them and the baby can get used to its parents’ touch.” You explained, your fingers slowly caressing Akail‘s back.

Mi’ytiar only clicked his mandibles in acknowledgment before he started to take off his armor and his traditional clothing as clan leader.

You had to bite your lower lip, reminding yourself of your own scolding words only seconds ago, but you simply couldn’t help yourself. Your mate was a fine specimen, a strong and gorgeous Yautja. You were one hell of a lucky woman.

You watched him get on the nest, now only dressed in his loin cloth, and he moved on his knees towards you.

You wrapped an arm around Akail — still curled up into a ball with his head tucked under your chin and his feet resting on your belly — and got up into a sitting position.

Mi’ytiar grabbed you by your thigh and hip, lifted you up, and pulled you to him so you were sitting on his thighs while your legs were wrapped around the width of his hips.

He looped his arms around you, drawing you into an embrace, so little Akail was now nestled between both of his parents’ warm bodies.

The smile that had grown on your lips since the moment Mi’ytiar had entered your home was now so bright and wide your cheeks started to hurt.

But you didn’t really care. You couldn‘t hide the sheer happiness you were feeling right now at this moment.

You felt movement against your throat and above the valley of your breasts, and when you looked down as best as you could manage, you saw Akail nuzzle his face into your skin while his tiny hand was now lying on your chest where your heart was beating.

You wanted to cry happy tears.

You had never expected to become a mother, never planned on it, never even remotely wanted it if you were being honest, but having your baby now in your arms made every antipathy disappear.

You placed a soft kiss on Akail‘s head, using as little pressure as possible so he wouldn’t wake up.

“He’s perfect.” You whispered and looked up at Mi’ytiar who was already watching you intently. “Are you happy?”

He cocked his head to the side, his chest vibrating when he confirmed, “Happy.”

He felt Akail‘s small body against his own, felt his tiny body press against his every time he was breathing.

Breathing.

A beating heart.

Alive.

He loosened the embrace of one of his arms around your body to reach between the two of you and for his son, his fingers tracing from Akail‘s forehead to the back of his head — there, he had the same scale pattern as his father, only with reversed colors — and from his temple over the hints of dreads on each side of his little head with his thumb.

Akail was indeed perfect, just like his mother, and he loved him with all his heart already, but the price he almost had to pay for having him here…

“I thought I would lose you today.” He admitted, breaking the comfortable silence between you.

You lifted your head from where it had been resting on his chest to look up at him with a small smile.

“For a second, I thought I would never see you again. I thought I would never meet our son." You nodded, thinking about the sharp pain and the feeling of life leaving your body as your pup fought his way out of you. “But Cahrein had prepared me as well as he was able to. He helped me through it. Who knows, hadn’t he injected me with your blood…”

You trailed off when Akail began to stir. You quickly started to rock him up and down, luring him back to sleep.

“He’s a very gifted male. I’ve trusted him with my life since the first time we visited him together after my arrival here so many moons ago.”

You adjusted your arm and its hold on Akail, the other reached up and cupped Mi’ytiar’s cheek. You let your fingertips glide over the scaly texture of his skin and dragged them over his jaw to his chin, down his throat to the middle of his chest.

“He also told me that I would be able to give you another pup in a foreseeable future…”

Mi’ytiar frowned, asking skeptically, “After what you gone through today?”

You shrugged and leaned your head forward, your cheek pressed against his pec. “I’m not talking about now or tomorrow, my love, but someday. In a few years, maybe.”

Mi’ytiar bristled, a loud rumble shaking his torso. “No.”

“No?”

“No.” He shook his head, a very human gesture in your eyes. “You almost died.”

You smiled into his skin. Protective through and through, even when it came to his own offspring.

You were incredibly lucky to be chosen by a Yautja like him.

It was rare for them to be interested in a human. It was rarer for them to treat that human-like an equal instead of a slave or one of many lovers. It was the rarest for a human to be injected with Yautja blood to largely adapt to their DNA and enable life on their planet.

And Mi’ytiar told you himself — you were the only human ever being Life-Mated to a Yautja who carried his offspring and had a similar leading role as him as the mate of a leader, all in one.

You were the rarest of the rarest, a uniqueness, something completely new.

But humans had birthed Yautja-Human-hybrids long before you, most of them more than one or two.

“The next time will be different, Mi’ytiar. My body will be stronger and mentally I will be more prepared.” You told him and peppered his chest with feather-light kisses before you looked up at him again, a loving smile on your lips. “You shan’t lose me.”

You whimpered in relief when you finally heard the familiar growling bark of a Hell Hound.

“Be'jaa!” You called, “I’m… here!”

You felt something move under you and fill the free space between your bend-over position against the tree. You opened your eyes, which you had closed to calm yourself and your breath, and looked down to see the Hound’s face already fixed on yours.

“N‘yaka-de. Get him.” You panted and watched as Be'jaa turned around to run.

When he suddenly stopped to walk hesitantly back to you, not liking the fact he was about to leave you behind who was obviously in distress, you stomped with your foot and yelled, “Be'jaa, fucking now!”

He darted off and you felt a tinge of guilt for lashing out. After all, he was loyal and a surprisingly good cuddle partner.

“Argh!” You cried out when another stabbing sensation almost made your legs give out.

Once again, it felt like you were being torn apart, but at least you didn‘t feel like you were closer to death than life, like at Akail‘s birth over 30 years ago. You were kind of proud of yourself, actually, considering you were still able to stand.

Yeah, standing against a tree for support instead of lying in your warm and soft nest where you had actually planned to deliver your second pup. You didn‘t want to give birth in an unsafe environment, with no Mi’ytiar and no Cahrein.

But who would have expected that your pup was ready to be welcomed into the world on a hunt?

You did.

You had felt premature labor pains for two days now, but you hadn’t paid them any mind as Akail was born only six days after those pains had started.

But even those pains had felt different in those two days, so why hadn‘t you just listened to your body when it undoubtedly told you “No!” while you answered Mi’ytiar‘s question “Hunt?” with an enthusiastic “Yes!” ?

You knew the answer to that, too.

While women on Earth had to stop certain activities at one point in their pregnancy and were limited in their doings, Yautja females could still follow their everyday lives throughout their whole pregnancy. Meaning, they could still jump from one obstacle to another, chase their prey, and kill it.

Thinking that you were able to do that too had been utterly stupid and arrogant, but you just didn’t want to seem weak. Yes, the clan had accepted you and saw you as one of them, as the mate of their leader, but you couldn’t stop the suffocating need to prove yourself again and again.

It was unnecessary. Mi’ytiar had told you that, Cahrein had told you that, the Females you liked to spend your time with and considered friends told you that and, hell, even a few Males who were close to your mate told you that.

But here you were, crying and groaning when another contraction cursed through your body. You regretted leaving your cozy home, regretted not being pampered by your loving mate in your nest, and regretted leaving your son behind, who had been by your side all the time, hovered over you in case he had to step in should you need anything in your state, followed you around like a lost puppy if you weren’t napping in your nest.

It reminded you of the time when he had been much younger and much smaller. He had been practically attached to your hip and everywhere you went, he was there. He had been such an adorable and shy little boy. Who were you kidding? He still was, but you missed those times anyway. He had grown up too fast.

You were nervous.

With your arms wrapped tightly around your body, you watched the hustle and bustle in the distance. They were preparing for the departure of the five Young Bloods who would soon leave for a faraway world to hunt and complete their initiation into Adulthood.

Among them was your son, your Akail, who would leave you for who knows how long to presumably search for the largest and most dangerous beast and kill it to prove himself.

Just like his father, you thought.

In the first year of your relationship, Mi'ytiar had told you everything imaginable about himself, and one evening about his own initiation ritual. He had told you how reckless and sure of himself he had been as a Young Blood, how he threw himself into danger to impress his clan.

Although that had secured his position as leader, he’d summoned his son the day before to admonish him to proceed with caution, to be logical and strategic, and to not let arrogance control him.

Lost in worried thoughts, you didn't notice as Mi'ytiar approached you, dropped to one knee, and pulled you to his torso with his strong arms. He nuzzled his face into your hair, his mandibles running through it.

He loved your hair. It was just as soft as the rest of you.

“What on your mind, yawne?” He asked.

“I’m scared.” You breathed.

“On your home planet, oomans worry too when child leaves?”

You put your hand on one of his arms that was wrapped around you. “They do, but not like this. On Earth, human children leave the safety of their homes every day to go to school, to learn, and then they will return. In a few hours, Akail will leave the safety of his home to finish school, so to say, but will he return?” You told him absentmindedly, your attention still fixed on the ship. “Human parents don't have to fear that particular day when their children go on a journey to possibly get killed just because of a custom.”

You felt his arms tighten around you. “Do not be scared.” He said.

“I can’t help it. I’m his mother.”

Mi'ytiar let out a chuckle that sounded more like a growl than an actual laugh.

“And I his father.” He said and turned you around, not loosening the close embrace. “I trained him well. Made him strong and made him smart. Doubting my skills, yawne?”

Although he had already lowered himself, reducing his height to be closer to you, you still had to raise your head to look at him.

God, you loved his eyes. Even though there were rare variations at times among their kind — sometimes a lighter shade, sometimes a darker shade, sometimes more orange than yellow — the eyes of all Yautja had the same color.

But to you, Mi'ytiar’s eyes were different, even though one couldn’t possibly spot a difference when he was standing next to other Yautja. To you, they were brighter, more intense, more expressive. Or maybe it was just the way he looked at you, with so much gentle affection and love you wouldn't credit a beast of his stature with.

“Of course, I’m not. I could never.”

You suddenly could feel large arms engulfing your body from behind, pulling you into an upright-standing position, and you just let yourself instinctively fall into their embrace.

You knew those limbs, knew their warmth and their strength.

“Mi’ytiar, the pup… the pup is coming.” You panted and dug your fingernails into his forearm.

You felt him move behind you. He lifted you up, his arms supporting your back and the back of your knees as he held you to his torso. He briefly registered how you quickly wrapped your arms around his neck before he took off.

He ran like he never did. At the same time, he was careful not to let your body jolt around too much as he jumped over fallen tree trunks and climbed rocks to reach the Scout Ship while you clung to him.

Every time a contraction hit, he could feel your body tense in his arms and your mouth press against his chest as you muffled another scream.

Oh, how he wished he could take away the pain, but at least it wasn’t as horrible as it was at Akail’s birth.

Mi’ytiar remembered your glistening tears and your little withering body, how you had squeezed his hand so hard that even he had felt pain, and how you had begged both him and Cahrein to stop it. Especially the fear of death in your eyes haunted him to this day.

He had almost lost you — you, his precious human — all those years ago and it had been his entire fault.

The possibility of becoming a father had been zero, non-existent, and at one point in his life, he had accepted the fact that he may be not meant to be a father. He stopped caring and someday just forgot about it entirely. The wish to continue his line like any proud leader faded away and instead he settled for the idea of passing on his knowledge and experiences to the pups and Younglings of his people.

Then he met you, this petite beautiful thing, when he was lounging on a building near an alley. He heard you before he saw you, heard you and them.

They were calling you strange names and whistling after you before they decided to follow you down the street. Trying to escape them, you took a left turn and quickened your strides as you crossed the alley.

Mi’ytiar, who was attracted by the noises, slid down the rooftop and soundlessly landed on the metal balcony of one of the apartments. Even from the third floor, he had a perfect view of what was happening down in the alley as the men grabbed you, pushed and pulled on you, and he felt mildly impressed when you started fighting back; kicking, scratching and screaming.

The men’s playful, taunting behavior quickly turned fatal when one of them, fed up with your attempts to flee, slapped you so hard across the face that you stumbled back, tripped over your own feet and fell backwards to the ground.

Your screams quickly turned desperate when one of them pushed up your skirt and tore on your panties, mumbling something about teaching you a lesson while his companions held you down.

At this point, Mi’ytiar knew something had been wrong. Mating between a Yautja male and female consisted of fighting each other, too, but not like this. Not with more than one male and not with the female resisting long after the male fought the female into submission.

Your behavior told him everything he needed to know — you weren’t even close to being interested in mating with those males — and before things could get any worse, he jumped down and killed those who forced themselves on you.

By the time four bodies in various morbid states of dismemberment were littering the alley, your whole body was trembling as you stayed on the ground, cowering.

He had crouched down to your level and one of his bloodied claws reached out to touch your face, your horror-widened eyes watching him with caution.

To him, you were what a kitten was to a human. You were so small, he noted, so small and soft and pink. He also thought you were beautiful, contrastive to what Yautja usually thought about your kind. He took you with him that night and the rest was history.

Even though you weren’t a suitable mate, his clan begrudgingly accepted the idea of a human being with their leader. He couldn’t have pups anyway, so why not just let him indulge himself and let him seek happiness and pleasure in other things?

And then, one day, you told him about your wish to carry his pup. He had been excited, absolutely ecstatic, but not about the image of your rounding belly with his offspring — he knew he was unable to have one — and rather about the fact that you were willing to mate with him in a way that could lead to a child. The fact you loved him and trusted him enough was all he cared about.

As much as he loved his son, he should have done something the second both of you learned that you were pregnant. He had been so overjoyed his human mate was extraordinarily able to have his pup that he never thought about possible consequences.

Anyone would have had serious doubts and would have objected because there was no way a human would survive that, but Mi’ytiar didn’t, too blown away by the prospect of becoming a father.

That changed as the day of the pup being due crept closer and closer, and slowly worry and fear set in.

And to make one thing clear: if you hadn’t been injected with Yautja blood from the beginning — first daily, then weekly, then monthly, until it stopped years ago — you wouldn’t have made it and Akail would have torn you apart from the inside out.

He was glad that Cahrein had kept a cool head and realized that his blood would help you when all other means had failed.

It was like history was repeating itself as he tried to focus on the task at hand — getting you to the ship — and not let the fluid running down his arms and body distract him. He wished he hadn’t dared to look down, to look down and see the blood you were losing, coming from a source that was his fault.

Why did he let you convince him to have a second pup? Why did the mere thought of getting you pregnant again make him so ignorant of your near-death experience? Why did he listen to Cahrein when he told the both of you that another pup was possible? Why did he forget that you weren’t like his kind?

His heavy, thumping footsteps suddenly sounded different, and when you pulled your face away from his chest to look around, you noticed the soft earth of the forest had been replaced by the cold metal of the ship.

As careful and gentle as he could in his rattled state, he put you down on the closest surface he could find — the table used for planning, briefing, and orientation with several holo-maps — and slammed his fist down on the surface. He growled and hissed a few words you couldn’t understand. Your translating earpieces were perfectly fine, but your brain was only picking up the pain shooting through your body instead of noticing any stimuli from your surroundings.

You were so out of it, the tears blurring your view, that you missed the conversation between Mi’ytiar and the holographic image of Cahrein.

“Mi’ytiar.” Cahrein greeted his leader in the customary way of placing his left fist on the right side of his chest while slightly bowing down his head.

“The pup is coming.” Mi’ytiar said without hesitation, straight to the point.

Cahrein rounded the table to stand next to him and he leaned over you to get a better look at you. He reached out to grab your calves to open your legs, but his hands went right through you.

“Pauk. I can’t help her like this. You have to bring her here.”

“No.” You cried out, answering before Mi’ytiar could even open his mouth. “The pup is coming now.”

Cahrein looked conflicted, contemplating what to do next as he was restricted in his actions. He could already tell that this was going to be hard.

“Mi’ytiar, I packed a Medicomp for emergencies when you said you two would go hunt. Get it.”

You let out a whine when your mate disappeared from your side, which was quickly occupied by the healer who noticed your distress. “Calm, (Y/N), calm.”

“It hurts so much.” You cried out.

“I know.” He retorted and eyed the red fluid running down your thighs to your calves, dripping down your toes. “You need to take off clothes.”

With trembling hands, you started to open the pants-like cloth that hugged your legs like a second skin and circled them from your ankles up to your hips. You struggled with the complicated lacing and cursed as you began to rip on them out of frustration.

Bigger hands replaced yours and when you looked up, you saw that Mi’ytiar had returned and stood between your legs. He used his sharp claws to cut the cords open and he pulled the rest of the garment down. He was more considerate with the bloodied panties underneath and tried not to rip them, although you believed that they were irreversibly ruined.

The first and last time he had torn your panties to shreds, you had scolded him for it after he was done fucking you from behind like a dog in his rut. You didn’t have much of your human clothes left — most of them had been replaced by self-made clothes of local fabrics inspired by their style anyway — but what you definitely wanted to keep was your underwear. So when Mi’ytiar returned to you one day from a spontaneous trip to Earth with a dozen new undies, you had been more than thankful.

Mi’ytiar grabbed your ankles, placed both of your feet flat on the table, and spread your thighs apart, stepping aside for Cahrein to finally take a look at you.

The healer’s holo-image got down on his knees and peered between them at what was happening between your legs.

You wanted to hide and press them back together, but you knew that it wasn’t much of help and just let him do his thing. Instead, you let your head loll to the side and looked at your mate.

Mi’ytiar had his hands in fists, keeping them tightly pressed to his sides, and he watched Cahrein with concern and something else in his eyes. You knew he was worried about you. He tried to hide it, tried putting his true feelings behind the mask of a collected and strong leader and warrior like he always did in dicey situations, but you could see right through it.

“And?” He urged Cahrein to finally give him an answer.

“She is ready. She has to push.”

“What about the blood?”

“Incidental. She has to push.”

So that’s what you did.

Taking a deep breath and gripping the edge of the table for the support, you strained every muscle in your body. The resulting blood-curdling scream even got the two Yautja to flinch and Mi’ytiar lunged forward. He pried your fingers away from the table where you had been holding on for dear life and intertwined them with his. You instantly squeezed them and Mi’ytiar let out a surprised hiss.

After a moment, your tense body slumped down. It simply gave up after not being able to endure the pain any longer.

“You need to keep going.”

“I can’t.” You hiccuped, choking on your tears as you shook your head vehemently.

“You can. You did this 30 years ago. It was impressive. I never expected such a tiny creature to survive, but you did. You will again.” Cahrein turned to Mi’ytiar and pointed to the Medicomp. “Take the syringe, take your blood and inject it.”

Rather reluctantly, he loosened the hold you had on him and opened the Medicomp. He rummaged through it, found the syringe, and jabbed it into the flesh of his arm, uncaring of the following pain. You were far more important than anything else right now.

While he filled the syringe with his fluorescent-green blood, Cahrein was talking to you and encouraged you to keep going. He tried to distract you and keep your mind from drifting off to a place of no return.

“Something is wrong.” He murmured after a while.

He had watched Mi’ytiar inject you with three doses of his blood already, but you still were in agonizing pain. You even had lost consciousness twice, something that hadn’t even happened when you birthed your first pup.

You squeezed your eyes shut and only opened them again when the pain subsided a bit. “W-What?”

“You should have started crowning already, but you don’t.”

“Why?” You asked in a long-drawn cry.

Cahrein, for the first time in over thirty years, looked baffled and completely clueless. He couldn’t explain it as he had no idea himself. There had never been complications when the females of his clan gave birth. You were the only exception.

“What are typical problems that arise for oomans during childbirth?” He asked, not knowing what else he could do.

It took a moment until you became aware that you had been asked a question.

“Am-Amniotic fluid e-enters the bloodstream… the u-uterus tears… the ba-baby is in an abnormal p-position… it’s s-stuck…” You offered between pained huffs, trying to come up with as many options as you could think of. “In most emergencies, w-when a natural birth isn’t possible, they d-do a c-section… they cut into t-the woman’s belly a-and get the baby out... and then…”

Mi’ytiar wanted you to stop talking. He wanted you to stop putting images of your cut-open body in front of him. He wanted you to stop making him think of your lifeless form after the pup was pulled out of it.

“You have to incise into her abdomen. I will instruct you.” Cahrein finally said.

Mi’ytiar immediately straightened his back and let out a roar. “No!”

“If you do it, either the pup and (Y/N) survive, or just the pup... but if you do nothing, then they will both die.” Cahrein pressed and eyed you for a second.

You were running out of time.

“I… I can’t.”

He sounded defeated. You had never ever expected to see him like this — so vulnerable, so hopeless, so broken. He was the definition of strength, of courage, of accountability, of resilience, and now only a hollow shadow of the man he was was standing in front of you, thinking about the chance of losing his entire world.

He couldn’t lose you. He couldn’t.

How could it be possible for him to live, breathe, without you?

He had a taste of a life he never wanted to leave, a life he wasn’t able to quit, a life only something as extraordinary as you could give him. Not because you were human, although that was probably one of the aspects, but because you were you.

He loved you.

You had taught him that love was the most valuable thing to a person. Love was worth more than anything else in life. It was such a strong, overwhelming feeling no one could put exactly into words until one actually felt it.

And he loved you.

“No, Mi’ytiar… you have to, you have to.” You urged him between panting breaths. “Save our… our baby. Forget me… ju-just save our son… please.”

Mi’ytiar looked down at you as you begged him to do something he wasn’t willing to do in a million years. Cahrein would have hesitated in his stead, but he wasn’t your mate and would have cut into you. Mi’ytiar, on the other hand, could never do something that would harm you.

But he already did, though. He had doomed you the second his seed took.

“Mi’ytiar!” Cahrein barked and pulled the male out of his thoughts.

His body was on autopilot when his hand reached for a scalpel-like tool from the Medicomp.

“Thank you, thank you!” You cried out.

The only thing you felt was relief as your body slowly went numb, tears clouding your view. Everything around you became blurry and Mi'ytiar started to disappear. The world around you grew darker and darker as he set the sharp blade onto your skin and slowly applied pressure, cutting into you until blood flowed onto the table and down to the floor of the ship, creating a red puddle.

You never even registered the feeling of him cutting you open.

Your body shut down before you could.

continue with the fourth part He Shall Prevail

#predator #predator x reader #predator x you #yautja x reader #yautja x you #fanfic

1K notes · View notes

sooniebby · 1 year ago

Note

Pleek danny i am begging for dilf nanamin who cant so much as make small talk with Ijichi's son reader without wanting to grab the reader and bend him over the nearest object,,,, huuhdhjdjsh for kinks,,,,,, sir kink, impact play, brat taming,,,, also ftm reader bcs yk <3

ఌ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

꧁ 𝙆𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙭 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

w.c. › 7.1k

Warnings › reader is kinda ditzy. But also unintentionally bratty and kinda crazy. Age difference, obvs. Plot… again—Femboy-ish reader in the fact some of his clothes are more feminine. Slight transphobia but nothing terrible, just two people who suck ass. Slow-ish slow burn like the Toji fic… also just start fucking randomly

Kinks › use of pussy/cunt/feminine terms, sir kink, impact play, brat taming. Reader is called good boy.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

“Excuse my son, I need to drive him to his performance.”

“Hiii~!”

You wave at the man who gets into your dad’s car. You didn’t know what type of job he did actually. He told you, ‘driver’ and that was it. So you never thought to actually question it. Though, seeing the people he usually drives… you’re starting to think he’s a mafia’s getaway driver.

This guy looked to be a bit younger than your dad, though certainly older than you. Blonde hair that was previously slicked back and now a bit messy. He sat in the passenger seat and was looking at his phone, texting someone.

When he was walking up to the car earlier, you were pretty sure he was holding a butcher knife.. but it was dark so you decided to think you were over thinking it.

You sat in the back seat, watching the street lights fade past as your dad practically speeds down to the place you were performing today.

You played the piano. Not as a job, just as something for extra cash as a college student. It helped a lot—but it was hard to find jobs in the area, most were so far that you had to have Ijichi drive you.

The car came to a halt once Ijichi reached the house you were playing at. Some rich function happening. It didn’t matter, as long as it payed well.

“Thanks, Dad. Bye, Blondie.” You said, not waiting for any type of response as you stepped out. But much to your confusion, your dad and blondie got out of the car. Though they didn’t seem to be going towards the house you were. Just looking at the abandoned building a few blocks down.

Huh… maybe your dad really is in the yakuza business.

Shit, why didn’t that pay well?

You pushed back any curiosity to see what they were up to and walk inside the house. The performance, like always, was easy. You chose the fanciest but easiest pieces to play on the piano. It was hard doing it for hours straight with only ten minutes breaks between.

It was around two hours at the party, that your phone started ringing. You tried to ignore it, wanting to finish the piece you were playing. It was going well until the sound of something collapsing outside caught the guests attention. You heard screaming and yelling as everyone was moving around in a frenzy.

But you stayed put, knowing that if you stood up, you’d get trampled. Everyone was acting too frantic for your liking. Once there was a few people left, you grabbed your bag and walked out of the home, staring right at what looked to be a building collapsed onto itself.

It was the building Blondie and your dad was looking at. It confused you as there was a crowd of people running to their fancy cars and speeding away for safety. No one called the police —all too focused on their own lives. You stepped forward, towards the street to the now collapsed building. It was old.. but how did it just break down like that? That’s not normal. Did something push into it?

“Ijichi.”

A hand grabbed your shoulder. You shrieked and began to flail your arms around.

“Unhand me, troglodyte!!! I took taekwondo four years ago! I.. remember something!!”

“Calm down. Your father is just looking for you.”

You flinched when the hand moved to grab one of your arms, effortlessly stopping your failed attempt of taekwondo. You glanced up to see Blondie, his eyebrows furrowed while there was a small little cut on his cheek. Huh, was that always there? His clothes looked dusty, as if he was rolling around in dirt.

Was he in the building before it collapsed?

“Oh, Blondie—!”

“—Nanami.”

“That’s what I said. What happened to that building? It just fell.”

Blondie—Nanami hummed. “Old buildings can fall apart after a few years of being unkept.”

“Uh… okay.” You muttered, weirded out by his answer but decided that would be enough. “Where’s Dad?”

“The car.” Nanami nodded towards your father’s car that was parked farther away from everything. You saw your father leaning against the car, his arm looking a bit.. mangled to say the least. Feeling a sense of panic, you sprinted over there and came to stop once you got a clear picture of what happened to him.

His arm looked as if it was purposely twisted into an uncomfortable position. Ijichi gave you a tight smile, obviously taken from the pain. He used his free hand to lightly pat your head.

“What… happened?” You whispered, glancing over at Nanami as he walked over. You felt an odd sensation of protection as you quickly stood between him and your father, glaring at Nanami with a tint of suspicion.

Nanami raised an eyebrow, obviously confused on why he was being suspected as a the culprit. It was odd because he was obviously hurt as well—though to a lesser extent. The cut on his cheek wasn’t the only one as there was on his forearm that was actually still bleeding through the light bandage that was used from his sleeve.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Ijichi muttered. “Did you get paid?”

“Oh.. no. I forgot to ask for money—don’t know if she’ll pay me now though.”

“Well—as you can see, (Name), I’m badly hurt. I’ll need to go get this checked out.”

“Yeah, of course,” you smiled. “I’ll drive you. I’ve been getting better.”

“No—I need you to do me a favor.” Ijichi glanced over at Nanami before leaning in close to you. “I’m sure you know I’m not just a driver at this point—but for your safety I can’t say too much.”

You gasped, dramatically putting a hand over your lips. “No…. You’re a Yakuza member?!”

Ijichi stared at you as if you were crazy. “What—? Anyway, I’ll need you to stay at Nanami’s for a few weeks. Just so I can get better at the hospital.”

“Blondie?”

“Nanami.” Nanami cut in.

“That’s what I said,” you rolled your eyes. “Why? I can stay at the house alone.”

“It’s not safe. Someone…” Ijichi paused, as if he was wondering how much he should actually tell you. “It’s just not safe. We don’t know if he’d go after you. It’s safer to stay with a sorcerer—uh.”

You blinked. “Sorcerer? Right…” You grinned, thinking your dad was just trying to be subtle about his connection to the Yakuza. “Of course. Dangerous… gang leaders and all the like.”

Ijichi simply sighed. “Yes, sure. It will only be three to four weeks maximum. I’ll be healed by then. Nanami will drive me to the hospital and then he’ll take you home so you can pack a bag, okay?”

“Fine. Doesn’t seem like I have a choice,” you whined, pouting.

“Yes, you didn’t.” Ijichi said. He used his free hand and opened the door to passenger side of the car. You sat in the back once more while Nanami went to the driver side. As he drove, you couldn’t help but glance back at the collapsed building. While Yakuza were dangerous—you haven’t seen them collapse a building before. That’d just draw too much attention to them.

At the very least, you hoped Nanami lived close to your university. It was tiring having to rely on your dad’s car to get places since you lived on the outskirts of the city. But there was an aching feeling in your stomach. How.. did your dad’s arm twist like that? Will it actually be able to be fixed?

Right before you tore your eyes away from the building, you saw the flicker of red eyes.

𖥸

Blondie’s place was actually pretty nice. It was a nice little apartment—decorated decently. Though it was obviously done by an older man. You felt odd being in a stranger’s place but you trusted your father’s judgement so you didn’t complain a lot. At least verbally.

The apartment was on the sixth floor, with nice glass windows in the living room giving you a nice gaze into the city. The building lights kept the room bright even before Blondie turned on the lights. You checked the bag you were carrying, making sure you had your shots. Blondie was carrying the heavier bags—you had practically forced him to.

Just a couple of pouts and blinks with your long eyelashes got him carrying them.

“I have a spare bedroom that you’ll stay in. There’s no attached bathroom.” He said. He walked over to a hallway that had three doors. The left was the bathroom. The right was your new bedroom and the center is obviously Nanami’s room.

As he opened the door, the room was less decorated than the rest. But that made sense—no one would be in this room often. The room didn’t look too small—a queen size bed in the middle and a singular night stand to accompany it.

A small dresser in front of the wall facing the bed—and…

A tv that had a crack on the right side of it. Blondie noticed your shocked face as he placed your bags on the bed. “The movers dropped it.” He simply said.

“Eh. Does it still work?” You muttered, grabbing the remote that rested on the nightstand. You turned it on and what played was cartoons—but in English.

“Somehow it’s stuck on Australian cartoons. I can’t change it, it was bought second hand.” He said. He grabbed the remote and seemed to try again and see what was wrong with the settings. You wondered how he could understand the English but didn’t ask. He must’ve studied English or something.

Nanami hummed as he gave you back the remote. “You can still at least flip through the channels. A few have Japanese subtitles.” Was all he said as he left the room. You glanced over at him as he closed the door behind himself.

Huh. That was abrupt.

You placed your bag on the floor and decided to just unpack everything into the small closet. It was weird to be staying at a man’s place you literally met today but if your dad trusted him, you’d “trust” him too. But at the thought of your dad, you kept thinking of his arm. The mangled arm that couldn’t possibly be fixed. But he seemed so sure.

You knew your dad treated you a bit childish compared to adults your age with their parents. It was okay when you were a kid but ever since you started transitioning it has gotten worse. But you knew why. He just wanted to protect you… It was evident in him not trusting to allow you stay home alone.

The light clink of syringes caught your attention when you accidentally jostled your bag. You took out one syringe and one of the small bottle. It took forever for you to even get the option to take testosterone. As you prepped yourself for your shot, you thought back to the red eyes. Did you imagine that?

Did you actually see that…? Or was your eyes playing tricks on you?

As you packaged the dirty syringe into a plastic bag, ready to be disposed of, there was a knock on the door. The door opened and Blondie was holding a bowl of noodles. He placed them on the nightstand.

“I would’ve made you a proper meal.” He said, vaguely pointing to his properly bandaged arm. “But I need to be careful. When you’re finished, put the bowl in the sink. Good night.”

Then he left. Again.

Gosh, why was he so abrupt when it came to his goodbyes?

The ramen was okay. It’s as good as gas station ramen is gonna be. As you placed the bowl in the sink, you walked past the living room to reach your room when you passed by a photo. The photo was inside a glass cabinet—connected to the small piece framing around the tv. You leaned in close, wanting to see who it was.

It looked to be a much younger Nanami.

Oh wow—was he emo? You laughed to yourself at his haircut. Next to him was a girl, a guy with white hair—strange, and a guy with black hair.

Wow, another emo.

You noticed someone next to Nanami, on his left.

A guy with brown hair. He looked cute—he had a wide smile. Cute.

You hummed. Their uniform looked kinda weird. Nothing close to what you wore in high school. Hm, were they also about in the Yakuza?

Do the Yakuza hire young people?

As you thought deeply on your “profound” question, you pulled away from the cabinet. Well, it wasn’t much of your concern. If you were lucky, Blondie didn’t work for the Yakuza anymore. With a huff, you walked back to your room and went to sleep for the night.

𖥸

“Blondie?”

He wasn’t there. You checked around the apartment the next morning, wanting to simply talk—mainly ask him to make you some breakfast—but he wasn’t there. Or anywhere for that matter. You plopped down into the couch and checked your phone, pouting to yourself as your thumb hovered over your father’s contact.

“She’s always in your shadow! Why did you raise her like that?!”

“Don’t speak about my son like that! You were the one who decided to not raise him, it’s not (Name)’s fault he doesn’t want to go to you.”

“Him, him, him! It’s time you stop allowing this nonsense to continue, Ijichi.”

“Whose last name does he have? Ijichi (Name)! I’ll be the one to raise my son how I see fit.”

“Fine! Continue letting ‘him’ play dress up! When that child of yours is still living in your home while giving you no grandchildren, don’t cry about how you wished you had a normal daughter!”

“Ijichi.”

You gasped, looking up as you saw Blondie staring down at you. Your eyes felt blurry—you couldn’t really see him. Blondie kneeled down, removing your glasses as he handed you a handkerchief. It was soft in your hand, as you lightly dabbed it under your eyes before full on using it to stop your tears. You didn’t even know what happened.

You didn’t want to think about her.

That woman who carried you for nine months.

Gosh, you hated her.

But she still brought you to tears so easily.

“Th…anks… Blondie.” You whispered.

“Nanami.”

“That’s what I said.”

Blondie didn’t seem to care about why you were crying. Or at the very least, was being respectful in not asking. He was still a stranger. You continued to wipe away your tears, silently grateful he was back from wherever he left off to.

“Where’d… You go?”

“Store. I was missing a few things to make breakfast.”

You glanced over to the kitchen and indeed saw him preparing something. When did he even get back? Were you that deep into your trauma flashback that you didn’t hear him? You felt your cheeks flush hot. Fuck, that’s so embarrassing. As you began rubbing a bit harder to try and lessen your puffy red eyes—your phone began to ring.

With speed you’d question back at, you checked to see who was calling.

It wasn’t your father.

Shit, it was just some guy you had in your class. The damn leech when it came to your recent project you were doing for history.

He didn’t want to do anything and embarrassingly enough, you were doing everything at this point.

You tossed your phone onto the coffee table and sighed, draping the handkerchief over your eyes as you leaned back onto the couch. You’d speak to him tomorrow. The sound of chopping and sizzling filled the room as you slowly drifted off to a comfortable nap.

It always felt good to sleep after a cry.

When you woke up, it was dark out. Shit. You glanced around the living room—noticing you had a blanket on you. As you folded the blanket back and rested it on the couch, you walked to the kitchen. You opened the fridge and saw the food Blonde was probably making. It looked to just be an omelette.

Good enough.

After microwaving and sitting down back at the couch to eat you briefly wondered where Nanami could’ve went.

Ah.

Yakuza, probably.

𖥸

“Ijichi, why didn’t you answer my phone call?”

You sighed as you were roughly grabbed by your infamous slacker. You stared at him with no intention to really speak to him—just let him rant about how “you’re not listening to him” or “why do you hate him?” Whatever bullshit he comes up with.

“I’m trying to help with this project, really,” he begins and then just blabbers on.

You don’t pay attention. It goes on for maybe a few minutes until you see a crowd of people leaving their classroom. Perfect. You pushed slacker’s hands off of you and seamlessly phased into the group of people walking away.

It’s only been about two days but it felt like years since you’ve seen your dad.

Huh.

Maybe she was right about—

You shake your head. Fuck that lady! She’s burnt flesh now anyway.

As you walk away from your university, you came face to face with a dilemma. You don’t know where Nanami’s apartment is—you kinda just left on auto pilot to not miss class. And shocker, you never got his number to call him.

Well shit.

You aimlessly walked around the city for a bit, just enjoying the nice day. The sunlight shined down onto you as you giggled a bit. Hm, the sun is nice. You decided to just text your dad for Nanami’s phone number. So while you waited for him to answer your text—you stopped by a nearby cafe for some coffee.

Right when you left the cafe, you noticed something weird.

Red eyes just staring at you—right from across the street. Inside a building that looked to be abandoned. Wow, when did Japan have so many abandoned buildings. You instinctively stepped forward, trying to see if this was just something you were seeing by chance.

You used the cross walk to go across the street, getting face to face with the building. But the eyes were gone. You hummed, starting to believe maybe you were going through it. This is perhaps the longest you’ve gone no contact with your dad—you’re probably just worried. Especially with the injury you saw him with.

A mangled arm.

Anyone would be reeked with worry.

As you pulled out your phone to check if your dad answered you yet, you felt yourself freeze. There was someone watching you. No… something.

You glanced up, looking into one of the building’s window and gasped in shock at the sight of what you were seeing. It wasn’t human. And it looked like a huge centipede, staring at you as if you were a piece of meat. You booked it, immediately.

Your legs burn from running but you didn’t stop. You kept going and going until you felt a bit safe in a public area. Just… what the hell was that? When did centipedes get so big? And it was looking at you so hungrily?! What the hell?! With your thoughts focused solely on your new discovery of big centipedes, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You shrieked, ready to fight but sighed seeing it was just the slacker.

“Ijichi, man, the fuck are you avoiding me for? I’m seriously trying to get a good grade here! If I fail…”

You tune him out again. Wondering how the fuck he was able to find you. His grip was tight around your arm before it slowly slid to your back. You slightly paid attention to what the hell he think he was doing touching you so much until you felt his hand slightly slide down your waist.

“What in—”

“—look, if the reason you’re just ignoring me because you’re scared about what you really are, most people practically know and don’t care. I don’t care about that queer stuff!”

You blinked at him, wondering how he went from zero to a hundred. You didn’t care that people could probably tell you were trans so long as they didn’t bother you. But now you were about pissed off this guy was making you do more work for this damn project and now making it seem like it was your fault—not his inability to work.

“Listen here, Slacker—”

But you didn’t have to say much when he was pulled off of you. You grinned. “Oh! Great.” Slacker fell to the ground and looked up—you did the same, looking to see who was your savior of the day.

Oh.

Just Blondie.

“Oh, Blondie. I was looking for your apartment, I also need your phone number.” You said, smiling softly, forgetting all about the slacker on the floor. Blondie simply hummed as he grabbed your arm and began guiding you to his place, leaving slacker on the floor yelling after you.

Which was… two blocks from where you were standing.

Oh wow. Definitely made sense in why you got to your university so quick. Blondie’s apartment was just ten minutes away. Ahah… embarrassing.

Once inside the apartment, Blondie seemed set on ignoring you again. Which seemed to be all he was doing these few days you stayed here. But you didn’t know why. You huffed to yourself, pouting as you dropped your bag on the floor and plopped down onto the couch, ready to watch some tv.

“Blondie~!” You sang, grinning lightly. “You’re in the kitchen still, right? Can you get me something to eat? Please~?”

You didn’t get a reply back. You briefly wondered if he wasn’t going to do it so you moved to sit up but was proven wrong when Blondie gave you a turkey sandwich. You quickly took the plate and began eating, humming after having not eaten lunch. But Blondie was still staring down at you, his eyebrow slightly raised as if he was waiting for you to say something.

Your lips pursed as you thought what he needed to hear until you gasped. “Oh, thanks, Blondie.” You muttered with your mouth still full as you began eating again.

You only got a huff in response as he walked away to do whatever he usually does. As you ate, you thought back to that centipede. Was that really real? There’s no such thing as monsters, anyway. You wondered if you should tell Blondie—but what could he do realistically?

Well, he’s in the Yakuza, maybe he could find a way.

𖥸

It’s been about two weeks now. Your dad still hasn’t returned much of your texts but you had gotten closer to Blondie. As much as you could anyway. He was very cut and dry with his answers to you.

You ask him how his day went, he’d answer with a curt: “okay.”

Ask him about what he does for work: “office job.”

He seemed to have trouble really looking at you when you spoke to him. He’d glance at you and then suddenly look at whatever he was doing with such intensity as you tried asking him questions. Or even just talking to him. Boring!

You were starting to believe he had a problem with the clothes you wore. When you dressed in baggy clothing, he would look at you more. But whenever you wore a tighter top or even shorts that showed a sliver of your ass, it was like looking at you would’ve burned his retinas!

Geez, did he not like guys in tighter clothing?

Damn… you must’ve been pretty ugly to him.

As you mentally cried to yourself about being seen as ugly on the couch, you glanced at your phone. You haven’t seen that slacker after you sent in the project. Of course you told the professor you did most and if not all of the work. So, you got an A—obviously.

You haven’t seen any human sized centipedes in a while so you were set to just believe you were imagining it. As you tugged down at your shorts that were acting like underwear at this point, you heard the front door open. Oh, Blondie’s back!

You grinned and went over to him, smiling. “Blondie! You’re early, they let you off?”

Blondie hummed. “I had a half day.” He simply said, walking over to the living room as he sat down with a grunt. He looked a bit tired so you decided to just not say anything else to him. There was always a few days when he just came home with a look of dread and was totally silent.

You were really starting to believe he was a Yakuza member.

As you turned to walk to your room, you bent down for a second to pick up a pillow that had fallen when you previously jumped off the couch. When you stood back you, you turned around to see Blondie staring at you with wide eyes. You simply smiled at him and placed the pillow back on the couch. Weird, why was he staring at you like that.

“I’m going to my room. Call me if you need me.” You said, waving goodbye as you sprinted off to your room, not knowing that Blondie’s gaze didn’t leave you at all.

𖥸

Nanami rubbed the bridge of his nose as he tried not to think about you essentially just flashing him earlier. When you had bent down to grab the pillow, he saw that your shorts, that were too short in his opinion, the crotch area had kinda sort of—clung to one side. So he saw it, at least just one lip—of your cunt.

And he felt angry with himself that his cock actually twitched at the sight. Was he some damn animal? He’d certainly been feeling like that the last two weeks. He couldn’t exactly… speak well with you. You just staring up at him with your cute smile but painfully naughty clothing.

Who just wears a shirt that is practically clinging to your body that it hides nothing to the imagination! And your shorts… who wears such short shorts with no underwear?

He wasn’t sure if he could take another few weeks with you here. Not if he didn’t want to just slam you against the wall and take you there.

But no, he couldn’t do that. You were Ijichi’s son. And he was pretty sure when Ijichi said: “take care of my son.” He didn’t mean fuck his son. Though he kinda wished he did.

It’ll be fine. Just a minimum of two more weeks… then you’d be gone back at home with Ijichi.

𖥸

Nanami wished he had just gone straight to bed. He was sitting on the couch watching tv when you suddenly appeared, dressed in a stupid crop top and short shorts. You plopped down beside him before resting your head right on his lap. When he tried to push you away, you only whined, pouting up at him to let you stay.

Damn brat.

He tried focusing back on the show he was watching as you seemed to only have wanted contact with him. You hummed softly before giggling.

“Nana—Blondie,” you said, looking over at him. “Today’s my mom’s death anniversary.”

He glanced down at you, a bit confused on why you didn’t seem bothered on your mother being dead.

“She died in a car crash. Drunk driving. The hospital said she burned to death in her car… witnesses said they heard her screaming as they tried to open the car door and out the fire.” You sighed, a soft smile on your lips as you recount your mother’s death. “I was 18. It was a good early birthday gift. But Dad said I shouldn’t be so cruel to her even if she was a bitch.”

“It’s not strange,” you said, turning your face to rest on Nanami’s leg as you glanced up at him. Your eyelashes batting as your lips were pulled into a pout. “To not care about a bitch dying, right? I’m sure there’s someone everyone has that they just can’t wait to die.”

Nanami wasn’t sure what brought this out. He was actually a bit worried honestly that you were so nonchalant about death. Though he could tell that despite this act you were pulling, her death did affect you… but perhaps it truly did bring a sense of peace. Especially if her death was truly that horrible.

“I can’t speak on that.” Was all he said, deciding it was best to let the conversation die out. He’d tell Ijichi to schedule you a therapist once he’s better.

“Hm, yeah, I did bring it out of nowhere. Anyway, my birthday is in four days! Getting me anything?” You giggled.

“No. I didn’t know it was your birthday.”

“What? Blondie~! Whaddya mean? I’m practically your roommate by now, and roommates give each other gifts.”

“Are you truly my roommate when I do everything?”

Which was true. You were more like a freeloader. Nanami did the chores, cleaned up mostly after you, and paid for literally everything. You were silently forbidden on doing your piano jobs so you were kinda shit out of luck, relying on Nanami at this point.

You simply huffed. “Meanie.” As you moved your head to face Nanami’s stomach. Nanami couldn’t help but flinch as he felt your nose accidentally brush against his crotch area. His grip on the remote tightened as he so desperately wished he was rude enough to push you off of him.

It was quiet for bit, just the tv going on with the show Nanami was watching. And subconsciously, Nanami began to calm down a bit and just allowed you to stay there. Maybe you really did just want some comfort.

There was something pressing against his crotch. He glanced down to see you, purposefully, rubbing your nose against his crotch before pulling away. You yawned, acting as if you were just essentially teasing him and grinned.

“I’m going to bed, Blondie. Think about what you’re getting me for my birthday!” You winked, standing up as you walked back to your room. He was so sure you were intentionally swaying your hips. What the hell was that?

And why the hell was he horny from a freaking nose rub?!

𖥸

Blondie, Blondie, Blondie

That’s all you called him. Occasionally, you’d say, “Nana—” but then quickly switch back to Blondie. It was as if you were intentionally trying to get him upset. Nanami didn’t know how a calm man like Ijichi could have a son like you.

The only similarity you two had was the glasses you both wore. It actually was the same brand and shape—weird.

You seemed to have two pairs of glasses though. You were the ones similar to Ijichi’s often and this pair of red ones whenever you were feeling “annoying.” Nanami had come to expect the red cat eye glasses whenever you wanted to be a little brat.

And look at that, you were wearing them right now.

Nanami was sitting on the couch, checking something in his phone when you suddenly appeared behind him. He didn’t look up, waiting for you say something until he felt your arms wrap around his neck. His body stiffened as you leaned close, pressing your lips against the tip of his ear.

“Guess what’s tomorrow?” You whispered. “B-i-r-t-h-d-a-y.” You intentionally made each letter sound breathy, pausing just a split second to let them sit heavy in the air.

You pulled away and giggled. “Got my present? You gotta make up for Dad,” you went to sit on the couch and glanced over at Nanami who looked as if he would keel over if a gust of wind blew past him. His grip was tight on his phone, you were a bit worried it’d crack.

“What was that?” Nanami suddenly said, still looking straight.

“Was what? It was for dramatic effect!” You said honestly, not knowing how sexual you had just sounded in his ear. Nanami turned over to face you with a look of pure disbelief while you simply grinned.

“Aw~ poor Blondie, don’t take it so seriously!” You playfully pat his leg before grabbing the tv remote and turning it on. You were engulfed into the random Japanese drama playing while Nanami could only just stare at you in awe.

Wow. You really were a damn brat.

It was fine though. He had the perfect birthday present now.

𖥸

It was your birthday!!

Which meant no school. Why would you willingly go to school on your day? Only losers do that! You sighed comfortably on the couch as you turned on the tv to play random Korean dramas for most of the day. And that’s how you spent most of the day.

It was around noon when your phone buzzed. You expected it to be one of your very few friends that you have but much to your shock with was your dad! You squealed happily and quickly opened the text he sent.

‘Happy Birthday, 🐹, I’ve been feeling better, don’t worry about me. I’ll be able to call you soon. I hope you aren’t giving Nanami too much trouble.’

You pouted but quickly texted him back, stating that you and Blondie were practically pals at this point. It brought a smile to your lips to see the hamster emoji though. You had quite chubby cheeks even has an adult that your dad loving pinching. It always looked bigger when you ate.

It was commented more when you were a kid but there was still some people who would—lovingly—call you a hamster in disguise.

Finally having confirmation that your dad was at least alright, you felt a heavy weight lift off your shoulders. You yawned and stretched out, turning your attention back to the tv as you spent the rest of the day lounging around.

It was dark out when Nanami finally came back home. You waved from the couch, not bothering to get up. You were always lazy on your birthday. Definitely from being a bit too spoiled on these days. But hey, at least you didn’t act like this everyday.

You could see Nanami did have a small box in his hand as he moved to the kitchen. You silently hoped it was a cake as you finally sat up a bit and moved to join Nanami in the kitchen.

“So now you’re greeting me,” Nanami said, placing the box in the fridge. You pursed your lips, wondering why he seemed a bit upset. It wasn’t like you greeted him all the time when he walked through the door.

“You like that stuff? Aw~,” you walk over to him, resting your hand on his shoulder. “You like those couple stuff? So cute, Blondie!”

You hummed when you felt his hand grab yours, slowly pulling it away from his shoulder. You glanced up, wondering if you perhaps went a bit too far but Nanami didn’t seem angry. On the contrary, he seemed like his usual self. He used his free hand to fix his glasses as his grip on yours tighten.

“I’ve allowed you to continually act like a brat throughout your stay here—I know what you truly need as a birthday present.”

With sudden strength, you found yourself pinned against the wall, his body pressed up against yours. You were wearing a long shirt but your usual short shorts.

“Blon—”

“—Sir. Since Nanami is a problem for you to say, that should be easy for you.”

You blushed slightly, having never really called someone that before. But somehow, you didn’t find it in you to disobey. Nanami hitched up your shirt, grabbing the front end and pressing it against your lips. It took you a second but you bit down on it.

“Good boy.”

Oh no.

Y’know, you did find Nanami attractive, but you were always the type of person to want to stick to your age range. But this…

“You kept whining about wanting a birthday present,” his hands gripped your shorts, “do you want this?” He whispered against your ear, practically giving you an out.

You gripped the wall in front of you but felt yourself nodding, blushing in embarrassment.

“I need words, (Name).” He said. You felt your legs tremble. You wanted him to say your name again.

“Yes… keep going.” You whispered.

Nanami hummed in approval as he pulled down your shorts, making you left up your legs so they can be fully taken off. Now you were standing in the kitchen, pressed against the wall with just a shirt. Nanami’s hand traced your upper thigh, his hand ghosting your cunt but he never brought it close enough.

You whined slightly, looking back at him with pleading eyes. He gave you small smirk.

“Despite it being your birthday, you acted bad today, Baby.”

“H..huh? How..?” You muffled out through your t-shirt, a look of surprise in your eyes.

“You don’t really remember?” Nanami gripped your hips tightly as he forced you to pull away from the wall. Your hands pressed tightly against the wall as your back arched. His hands slid down your hips to your butt as he harshly gripped them, spreading them apart teasingly as you whimpered.

“You can’t have short term memory loss, (Name). Think.”

You thought for a second before humming. “Greet… didn’t greet you..” you muffled.

“Good boy. So you know you’ll have to be punished for not properly greeting me? It’s what’s brats get for misbehaving.”

“m… not a brat.”

Smack!

“I don’t like liars.” Was all he said before you felt another slap against your ass. You whimpered, your body shaking at each spanking. He wasn’t gentle in the slightest, not leaving room for a break. It was continuous spankings against each cheek, earning deep screams from you.

The spankings filled the silent apartment, swirling in symphony with your high pitched screams. You didn’t think this was really a good birthday present but you couldn’t deny that it was actually feeling a bit good in a weird way.

After a few more slaps, Nanami began rubbing your sore butt cheeks, pressing a wet kiss into your shoulder.

“Good boy. You handled that perfectly.” He said, leaning close as he grabbed your left leg and lifted it up. Your back was now pressed against his chest as you tried to keep a steady balance with now just one foot.

“Th…ank…you.. Sir.” You muttered out, tears staining your cheeks as you looked up at him. Nanami cooed, wiping away a few of your tears with his free hand.

“Now, do you think you deserve your present?”

You nodded, “yes.. yes! Please..”

Nanami seemed to take a bit of pity on you as he simply nodded. He wanted to tease you a bit more but he decided that since it was your first time and birthday, he’d be nicer. Though next time he’d be much more cruel.

You whimpered as you felt his hand graze your cunt, teasing one finger against your wet folds. It had been a minute since you even touched yourself down there. You were always too anxious that Nanami would be able to hear you or he might come home earlier than expected.

Just feeling his finger teasing you could bring you to an orgasm, but Nanami had different plans. He slipped in two fingers, earning a soft mewl from you. His fingers were large, easily stretching you out as he got you ready for his cock.

It wasn’t until you felt yourself close to an orgasm was when Nanami finally pulled out. Damn tease.

The feeling of a cock rubbing between your folds caused you to flinch as you gripped at the wall as some type of support. This position wasn’t the most comfortable but you were way too horny to walk to the bedroom or couch. You wanted him now.

Nanami was slow as he thrusted his cock inside your tight cunt. He grunted as you gasped, trying to get used to the large stretch. His fingers didn’t compare to it! Even though you were prepared, it took some effort for him to fully be inside of you.

You shivered, suddenly thinking that you were essentially fucking your dad’s ‘coworker.’ Fuck, well, maybe a few pouts and batting of the eyelashes will get you off with minimal punishment.

“Fuck… I’m sorry,” Nanami suddenly whispered.

“Mhm?”

With great force, your whole body was suddenly shoved against the wall once more as Nanami’s hands were on either side of your head, effectively caging you in. You felt him almost pull out fully until he slammed right back inside of you, causing you to cry out in shock.

You helplessly gripped at the wall for some sort of purchase as Nanami fucked into you like an animal. His hands gripped your hips tightly, moving you as if you were a fleshlight on his cock. The only sounds coming from his was animalistic grunts.

Your cunt clamped tightly around Nanami’s cock, as you tried to babble something but only moans left your lips. Nanami seemed so heavily into chasing his own orgasm at this point.

“Si…Sir… ‘m com..!” You tried to say but could only cry out as you felt your orgasm wash over you like a waterfall. Your fingers dug ineffectually into the wall as a way of purchasing yourself against Nanami’s harsh thrusts.

He continued going even after you came, his hips slapping against your sore ass. As his grip on your hips tightened to were it felt as if his fingers was digging into the skin, he slammed his hips one last time. His cock was deep inside when he finally cummed, coating your insides.

You shrieked, shocked that he came inside. The warm cum slowly seeped down your thighs as you felt your knees collapse but Nanami was quick to hold you up.

Nanami leaned against your back, breathing heavily. “Sorry… I didn’t mean for that happen..” he muttered. “Just lost control.”

You hummed, gently wiggling your butt. “Maybe I’m just that pretty.” You teased, looking back at Nanami. You giggled slightly, enjoying his unimpressed face.

A moan left your lips as you felt his cock slowly slide out before pushing back it. You stared at Nanami in shock, surprised an older man seemed to have a quick reload. He simply grinned.

You were screwed.

𖥸

You hummed softly as Nanami rubbed your sore butt cheeks, rubbing some cream on it to stop the pain. It had been just a few days after your birthday and now this “spanking” thing was constant.

And fucking. Very often.

Nanami was always cool and collected during your punishments but whenever he got his dick inside your pussy, he could never control himself properly. It was honestly funny. And a bit scary that he could do more than one round so quickly.

The most you two have done so far was three.

And that was just a few minutes ago.

“Hm, Blondie,” you still called him that outside of sex, “did I tell you about this huge centipede I saw in this abandoned building? It had red eyes and everything, it was like… human sized!”

Nanami’s calming massage suddenly stopped. You looked back and raised an eyebrow, wondering what was wrong. He was looking at you with wide eyes—which was shocking, Nanami never looked at you like that before.

Maybe being a Yakuza member didn’t mean he could handle it.

Well, shoot.

But you couldn’t help but think Nanami wasn’t shocked about the centipede.

More about that you saw it.

Huh. Yakuza members are weird.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

I think I made reader a bit weird lolol. Way longer than I thought it was going to be. I hope I did nanami justice, I have trouble writing him for some reason

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @remdayz @flurrina @iwishtobeacrow @smellwell @kiiyoooo @chill-guy-but-cooler @tomoeroi @mello-life69 @rhetorical-conscience @tehyunnie @ofclyde

#bottom male reader #x male reader #sub male reader #uke male reader #mlm ns/fw #ftm ns/fw #nanami kento x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento #nanami x you #jjk nanami #nanami kento x male reader

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cheriladycl01 · 10 months ago

Text

Double the Interviews - Oscar Piastri x GreekOlympicTennis! Reader

Plot: WAG duties consist of you literally being in more interviews than Oscar because of your outgoing and bubbly personality.

"Y/N can we have a minute of your time please?" an interviewer asks pulling you away from your friend who you look over at. She smiles at you and nods, making her way back to the McLaren garage.

"How are you feeling about the race tomorrow?" he asks and you put a serious face on.

"Yeah, I think the car's got good pace, looking to be in some top positions and I'm excited to see what happens!" you nod and the interviewer holds back their laugh.

"Spoken like a true driver!" he chuckles and you start to laugh as well.

"How are you feeling knowing come summer you'll be competing in the Olympics for Greece in Paris while Oscar is also competing in his own sport?" he asks and you nod, carefully listening to the question to not misunderstand him.

"Yeah of course. You know it's always hard when you have those conflicting schedules especially in athlete relationships. You know I'm still competing in ATP and I have been for a while, and then going into the Olympics on top of that is just immense. I get to travel with my best friend who I've played tennis with since 3 years old but at the same time Osc isn't there all the time. I think that's why today is just so important to me, to be here to support him at his home race!" you smile to the man in front of you who slowly pulls the mic back towards him.

"Will we be seeing Oscar at the Olympics this year?" he asks.

"I think at this stage it's hard to tell, F1 has the longest and busiest schedule to date this year and there's more stress and pressure on the drivers than ever with all the changes taking place ahead of 2025 and 2026, so you know I'd love Oscar to be able to come and see me take home another medal, but again it's one of those moments where you can't be in two places at once!" you explain, knowing he'd already planned to come for your first event of the summer, and would try and stay with you, until it ended for you. But even he didn't know when McLaren would request for him in Woking, or if he'd go home to spend a little needed time with his family.

"Well, I think it's safe to say we are all wishing for Gold for you again this year. Good luck to you and Y/BFF/N who we did see earlier, but dipped away last minute before i could invite her!" he smiles at you, and you smile back.

"You'll see us at the Olympics up at the very top. We promise!" you give the camera a cheesy grin before saying your goodbye's and leaving him to question the next driver who was eagerly waiting behind you.

"There you are!" you hear the Australian accent you knew all to well from your left.

"Hey baby!" you smile, leaning up and placing a soft kiss on Oscar's cheek.

"Saw Y/BFF/N come back without you, when she told me you were stolen for an interview i thought i'd come see if you needed saving" he softly tells you placing a light and gentle hand in your smiling softly down at you.

"Ah, you see baby that is where we are completely and utterly different. I love talking to all your work colleagues!" you say, pulling his hand along so you can both walk back together. You wave at people as you walk past saying small hello's and posing for any camera's you spot in your peripheral.

"You consider the media work colleagues of mine?" he asks with a low laugh that has you cocking your head to one side in question.

"You don't?" you offer back.

"No, my colleagues are my team and the other drivers!" he admits with a blank look on his face that just screams that no cogs are turning up there.

"I mean, you work with the media every time your here. I'd say you work with them, they might not be on your team but they are still apart of your sport!" you admit, he goes to argue but you put a soft finger on his lip.

"Would you consider my ball boy's as my colleagues?" you ask, and he thinks for a second before sighing and nodding.

"There you go then! F1 interviewers are your work colleagues and i like talking to them, they always have very insightful questions!" you smile.

"Insightful or invasive?" he queries looking across at you, brows a little furrowed.

"Damn, you really are a young Kimi Raikkonen. I see what the fans mean now!" you laugh at his expression which quickly tries to change but the frown lines remain.

"God, we need to go back to my mum's for some rest and relaxation" you sigh, starting to massage his wrist and up his arm making him sigh.

"Mmmm, we do I really miss that one dish that she makes us!"

"The Tzatziki with the roasted meat and vegetable kebabs or Moussaka?" you ask looking over at him knowing he enjoyed both.

"Oh! I was thinking of the Moussaka, but the Tzatziki is good. My trainer actually said that it was the perfect mix!" he admitted, still holding that blank expression.

"But he tells you off for the Honey Cake!" you sigh knowing that it was a delicacy you didn't get very often too, being an athlete and all meant that you had to have a very strict diet and couldn't lie to your trainer about cheat days you'd have.

"Okay but that Honey Cake is lethal! You cant stop when you start eating it!" he says before starting to quietly ramble about all his favorite foods as you enter the confides of his driver room away from the public eye.

You cant help but just watch and smile at him, people rarely get to see this funny talkative side of Oscar that could actually out ramble you sometimes which should be near impossible as you were very much a yapper. Especially when you got passionate and would slip in some of you mother tongue without realizing.

"What?, Why are you staring at me?" he asks, after realizing he'd started to rant.

"I just love watching you talk, you nose scrunches when you get passionate about a topic and it's cute" you smile, looking down knowing he'd be a blushing mess.

"Shut up! You are the yapper here, start yapping!" he says, making you burst out laughing while he goes to sit down on the small sofa.

"I'm going to miss you next week!" you sigh as you sit down on his lap where he wraps his arms tightly around you and rests his head in the crook of you neck.

"I know, but I'll come see you at your next tournament after the triple-header!" he smiles, kissing against your neck your body relaxing against his.

"It's just hard, god I'm clingy!" you attempt to laugh the tears away.

"Lando wants to know if you and Y/BFF/N are down for a rematch" he smirks changing the conversation to a more light-hearted one.

"Oh you boys are so on!" you grin.

y/user

Liked by oscarpiastri and landonorris

y/user: Photo Dump from the boyf’s homeland! Love you Australia 🇦🇺

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oscarpiastri: it was fun playing doubles with you and y/bff/n. Best you next time

landonorris: these guys are kinda good at tennis yo!

-> y/user: does the gold medal mean nothing to you?

-> landonorris: not really :0

-> y/user: well … Osc?

-> oscarpiastri: don’t involve me :(

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Double Trouble in Stralia 🇦🇺

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illbegottenfaith · 25 days ago

Text

maybe stay here forever (inspired by packing it up by gracie abrams)

the holidays have you feeling sentimental over yours and theo's relationship (theo nott x reader)

a/n - 100 followers in a little over a month is very much insane for me, and like any other writer I rlly appreciate every interaction with my fics <3 also im trying to work on making mutuals (esp with other writers!) but man it does NOT help that im so incurably shy, anyways enjoy!!

tropes/warnings - tw descriptions of grief and anxiety, established relationship, domestic bliss, more angst than I anticipated, an outtake ft. petty!theo throwing down with a 13-year-old

word count - 2.6k

"Y/N! PHONE!”

You placed your butterbeer down with a thunk, weaving your way from your table to the telephone at the counter. Your friend Ivy handed it to you before disappearing into the crowd. You knew who it was even before pressing your ear to the receiver.

“This is highly illegal, as you very well know,” you said breathlessly. "Randy hates anyone using his phone."

“Relax. Ivy said he's gone into the back.”

Even through a telephone line, your boyfriend's voice gave you a giddy sort of thrill. Still, you glanced at the back door anxiously. “For now. What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing. Just wanted to hear you sound deliciously panicky.”

“Unbelievable. I’m risking being banned from Hogsmeade’s only pub for nothing?”

“What’s the point of having a girlfriend,” Theo wanted to know, “if she won’t enable your illegal endeavours?”

You rolled your eyes. “So, did you manage a game between the four of you?”

“Eh. It was…something. I’m not sure if anyone would call it Quidditch, though.”

“Oh?”

“You should join us next time. The flying, screaming - you’d love it.”

"Rude." The one time Theo had managed to wheedle you into at least trying to play Quidditch with him and some of your friends had not ended very well for you. In your defense, heading straight for the ground sounded like a much safer option than waiting around to be hit by a Bludger.

“You’re still watching the back door, aren’t you?”

You stiffened, eyes sweeping across the crowded pub. He wasn’t here, was he? He did love messing with you. You shook yourself. Of course not, you were using the only telephone in the vicinity. “Am not,” you sniffed injuredly. "Anyway, what are you up to now?"

"I'm about to go down to the shops to run your errands. What did you need, again?"

"Butterbeer fla - are you writing this down?"

"No need, I'll remember."

You frowned. "Teddy, you always say that, and you always forget something."

"Not this time. Shoot."

You huffed. With how aggravating Theo could be, he was lucky he had such a pretty face. "Butterbeer flavoured popcorn, for the popcorn garlands. If they only have regular, don't bother, I have bags and bags of those. New Christmas lights, because one of the bulbs blew out. Wrapping paper, someone's bound to need it. Hm, what else...that disgusting peppermint tea you love - "

"I don't love peppermint tea. It's...it's not bad, that's all."

"Fibber. You cleaned us out last year."

"And I'll do it again if you keep throwing around these unlawful accusations."

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, listen - bring Mattheo along with you, will you?"

Having just broken up with his girlfriend, Matteo's Christmas plans fell through at the last minute. You couldn't help it was in your nature to worry. You heard the distant rustle of parchment crackle over the phone. Ah - ha, fibber indeed. "Alright, but for the last time, he's doing perfectly fine on his own." You heard him folding the list up. "He's a grown man, Y/N."

Your tone turned reproachful. "It's the holidays. No one should have to spend the holidays alone, remember?"

"Don't you have your own friends to fret over?"

"They're all going home. You only have yourself to blame for being within arm's reach, you know."

"If I'd known you were going to be this meddlesome I'd have stayed far, far away."

"Please. Like you could have resisted my charms."

You could imagine the teasing look he'd be giving you.

"Speaking of charms, how does a charm bracelet sound? Would you like that?"

You sighed. For some reason, you were having a particularly difficult time thinking of something to ask for this Christmas. You kept putting it off, and now it was less than two weeks away. Theo was doing his best to help, though it did get a bit grating when he'd point out every item in a shop one by one.

"I still don't know," you said helplessly. "Rain-check? Again?"

"Fine. But you don't have much time left." You heard him unfolding the list. "So, for today, butterbeer flavoured popcorn, Christmas lights, wrapping paper and peppermint tea?"

"Yep. Thanks, Teddy."

"Anything for you, doll." Theo cleared his throat and dropped his voice a couple of pitches.

"So what are the odds I can convince you to wear that green little number to tonight's party?"

You grinned at the pub counter flirtatiously. "I don't know. How badly do you want to see me in it?"

Theo groaned. "Going to make me beg for it, baby?"

"In a manner of speaking." You glanced back at the back door, just in case. "Haven't you learned? Sweet-talking will get you everywhere with me." Your eyes drifted to your table, where Ivy was impatiently waving you over. "Damn. I have to go. Ivy looks like she's about to have a coronary."

"Wearthedre-"

You wore the dress. You could be cruel, but not that cruel. It was a cosy sort of party, with friends and friends of friends milling around. You were sitting in Theo's lap on one of the couches, the two of you trying to talk over the music.

" - and so I said to Ivy, if he can't be bothered to even say hi when there's other people around, then that shows how little respect he has for you, and he'll only get worse the more you let him get away with it, and - and I'm rambling."

Theo's mouth quirked into that special smile he reserved just for you. "Only a little. It's very becoming, if that's what you're worried about."

"Yeah, right."

"It is, but only because it's coming from you."

You fiddled with Theo's hair, trying to fix a cowlick of his. "So what did you do today?"

"We got the popcorn, the tea, the wrapping paper. Matteo got a little too excited with the lights."

You raised your eyebrows. "Do tell."

"Mind you, he's never shopped for anything in his life. He has house elves for that."

"Kind of like you when we first met," you teased lightly.

"I don't think he was expecting so many options. He kept winding each type around his limbs to compare. I think the insulation was faulty on one of them so he got a mild electrical shock."

You gasped. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, as far as I could tell. I think he kind of liked it, to be honest."

"Of course he did." You wrinkled your nose. "Then what did you do?"

"Freed him, obviously."

"And then?"

"Then we got the same lights we always do."

"And then?"

Theo shook his head, bemused, and tugged at a lock of your hair. "And then nothing. And then we left. And then I changed and came straight up to the party to find my nuisance of a girlfriend."

You laughed. Theo wasn't being particularly funny, but it was hot and your hair was sticking to the back of your neck and you were high off the thrill that came with being perfectly in sync with your favourite person. In short, you were too buzzed to care. You were flushed, either from the alcohol or the feel of Theo's hand steadily creeping up your thigh.

"I have some bad news, though."

You sat up and scowled. "What?"

"I couldn't get us out of my family's Christmas dinner."

You groaned. You had half a mind to drown Theo in what was left of your drink.

"C'mon, Y/N," he cajoled, "iwe'll only be there a couple of days. Tis the season of giving."

"Sure, I'll give them a push down the stairs."

Theo stifled a snort and plucked the drink out of your hand. "Okay, that's enough punch for you. Speaking of..." He glanced somewhere behind you, sitting up a little and, frustratingly, pulled his hand off your thigh. "The punch bowl might need refilling."

"Don't," you whined, dragging his hand back to where it was a moment ago. "Let Enzo do it. We don't get to see enough of each other as it is."

Theo sighed. "So you're just never going to let me leave?"

"I can't help it," you said, "I like the way you speak. I love hearing you talk." You rested your forehead against his, your eyes fluttering close. "Promise you'll never quit talking to me."

"Done," he murmured against your lips, a hand sliding to the small of your back.

Hours later, you felt yourself stirring. It was the middle of the night, long after the two of you had gone to bed. You regretfully peeled your eyes open, trying to figure out what had woken you up.

Theo was lying next to you. It took a few more blinks to see that he was breathing harder than normal, the moonlight filtering through the window casting a sickly pallor on his face. His breathing quickened till it bordered on hyperventilating, a restlessness spreading through his body as he uselessly clenched at the sheets.

The first night you had witnessed this, you had gone absolutely ballistic. You thought he was having a seizure. After an awkward conversation between a highly uncomfortable Theo and a panic-stricken you, you learned that it wasn't its first, or last, occurrence.

They weren't nightmares, exactly. If they were, Theo would forget them by the time he was shaken awake, and only the residual tremour in his limbs would be left. They were more akin to bouts of subconscious panic and despair surfacing from the recesses of his mind. Some nights, he recovered quickly, falling back to sleep in under an hour. Other nights, you'd hear him creep out of the room so as not to wake you while he whiled away the hours to dawn.

As hard as Theo tried, bless him, he struggled to put an explanation for these attacks into words. You guessed that it might have something to do with the sudden, unexpected departure of certain loved ones from his life after one mildly confusing fight. You had slipped out of bed early one morning, while Theo was still asleep, to get a headstart on your work for the day. A couple of hours later, when he found you in the Slytherin common room and immediately started going off on you, still in his pajamas, you found out how much waking up in an empty bed freaked Theo out.

Now, you shoved Theo hard on the shoulder. His eyes flew open, anxiously twitchy, as his breathing started slowing down. Still half-asleep, you snuggled up to him, pressing an ear to his chest. You could hear his heart pounding under his T-shirt. After a moment or so, once he'd recovered from the shock, he tentatively wrapped his arms around you.

You squeezed an arm around him as well. "'M here," you mumbled into his shirt. You could feel him taking deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down as he distractedly stroked your hair. Slowly, bit by bit, you felt him relax around you as you started to doze off. There the both of you stayed, a tangle of limbs, till the morning.

one year ago

You were sitting in the Astronomy Tower one chilly autumn night, having escaped from the party your friends had dragged you to. The holidays had just begun, and in the coming days, most people would be going home or carrying out their respective plans. Most people didn't include you. This year, more than anything, you wanted to be alone. Your friends assumed you were going home for the holidays, and your family assumed you were spending them with your friends at Hogwarts, and to be completely honest, you didn’t see the need to correct either of them.

You looked up, straining your ears as you heard disembodied footsteps approaching you. A minute later, Theodore Nott emerged from the shadows.

“Mind if I join you?”

You shook your head as Theo settled with his back against a pillar, stretching one overly-long leg towards you while bending the other. You had seen him at the party for the first fifteen minutes you were there. He looked delightfully comfortable in a loose, casual denim button-down. It felt a little odd to think of him as an acquaintance when you saw him nearly weekly while your other friends caught up. But at the same time, there was a tinge of awkwardness in the silence stretching out between the two of you. You weren’t even sure if he knew your name. Now, he was pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his jean pocket.

“Is it okay if I -?”

You shrugged wordlessly, still in a bit of a daze. As far as you could remember, you had never been in a one-on-one setting with Theo. It wasn’t that you avoided each other; it just never came to it. You had plenty of mutual friends acting as a buffer between you two.

All you knew about him was that your families’ tax brackets were far apart enough to mean you’d likely never see him again after Hogwarts. And after getting bruised and beaten by one too many failed relationships, you were kind of over trying to reach out or connect with new people.

And so Theodore's familial prestige was all you took note of. That, you thought as you watched him sigh in relief after the first drag of his cigarette, and his mildly concerning nicotine addiction.

You risked a sidelong glance at him to find him unabashedly looking right at you. But with him sitting perpendicular to you, you were in his direct eye line. Where else was he supposed to look? Literally anywhere else, you wished, as you returned his gaze with an awkward half-smile.

“So, Y/N,” Theo was saying, tapping ash off his cigarette. So he did know your name. You decided then that you were right - you had never been in such an intimate capacity with him before. After all, you weren’t one to forget someone saying your name like…like that. Like he harboured some secret fascination with it, from the way he let it linger on his tongue. “Any special holiday plans?”

You shook your head wordlessly. Theo gave a slight frown.

“You do speak, don’t you?”

You scoffed. “…yes. Obviously.” He’d seen you talk in front of him. Maybe not to him, but he knew you could speak perfectly fine. Your tongue currently feeling like cardboard was an entirely separate mystery.

“Going home?”

You hesitated. Theo was neither friend nor family, but for some inexplicable reason, that made it all the more difficult to lie to him. You blamed it on the smoke, it must have been making you nauseous. That, or his relentlessly demanding stare.

“I only ask because Ivy mentioned you were.”

You gave him a look, mildly peeved. If he already knew, what was he prodding around for? The cooler, more rational part of your mind pointed out that he might just have been trying to make polite conversation, and that a normal person who didn’t keep secrets like you wouldn’t be having this kind of a reaction.

“Yeah. I leave…soon.” Not for the holidays, though.

“That’s funny,” Theo continued pleasantly, “because I heard you mention to Matteo that you were staying here with the girls.”

You froze. Crap. How were you going to explain your way out of this one?

“So?” You couldn’t keep the defensive edge out of your voice. Maybe if you acted confident enough, he wouldn’t realise anything was amiss.

“So…you’re lying to someone.” He tapped his cigarette again, irritatingly casual, as if you were only discussing the weather.

“Why are you so interested in my holiday plans anyway?” you asked crossly, pulling your cardigan tighter around you as a chilly breeze started picking up.

Theo raised his eyebrows. He had the gall to look thrown off, as if he wasn’t the one pursuing the topic.

“People don’t normally lie about their holiday plans. You do realise that, right?”

Oddly enough, something in his tone made you feel embarrassed over being caught in a lie. Scratch that, it was embarrassing to have Theodore Nott catch you in a lie. What for, anyway? He was hardly the most honest person himself. Probably. You felt the back of your neck heat up. You desperately wished he would look away.

“What’s it to you?”

Theo opened his mouth before closing it again. He stewed in his thoughts for a minute while his jaw worked, as if he were trying to find the right words.

“You shouldn’t be alone on the holidays.”

You worried your bottom lip. Was this…concern?

“Maybe I want to be alone.”

“Do you?”

His otherwise dead eyes looked so inquisitive - so piercing yet unnervingly honest for someone as prone to manipulation as him. You couldn’t bring yourself to lie to those eyes. You dropped your gaze to where your fingers were fidgeting with the hem of your skirt.

“It’s complicated.”

“So explain.”

You laughed humourlessly. “They wouldn’t understand.”

You watched the shadows on the tower’s floor shift. You looked up to see Theo finishing off his cigarette as he moved to join you, looking out at the same Hogwarts grounds you were facing. It seemed to make it easier, this pseudo-confession, without the brunt of his needling stare.

Here was someone you didn’t feel the urge to explain yourself to. You felt…less alone. Like you finally had someone unequivocally on your side. It had been a long time since you felt that way.

Even with the slight distance between you, you could feel the body heat he radiated. You leaned towards him slightly, but you told yourself it was only because he was blocking the wind and you were sick of shivering. Perhaps you weren’t as subtle as you would have liked, because he stretched an arm around you, running his hand up and down your arm to warm you up as you sank into his heat gratefully. You didn’t have the heart to pull away. You didn’t want to pull away.

“You could explain it to me, you know.” Theo glanced down to where you were resting your head on his shoulder. “If you wanted.”

You toyed with the idea. So, basically, I’m sick of every relationship I’ve been in falling flat, and lately I’ve been feeling like even my friends don’t understand me, so you’ve caught me just as I’m giving up on it - love, that is, romantic or otherwise. You pulled a face. It sounded far too melodramatic even in your own head. Still, you tried.

“Have you ever felt like…giving up?” Theo’s brow furrowed even more. “No, not - I’m not suicidal. Just…when everything gets too exhausting, and reaching out just feels so…”

“Once.”

You hesitated. You weren’t expecting him to agree. Sympathise, maybe.

“After my mother died.”

“…oh.”

Could you sound any more stupid? But you couldn’t help it - in a group of friends who regularly made cracks at each other’s Death Eater fathers, Theo’s mother was a strictly off-limits topic.

"It was a couple of years back." Theo's voice sounded different now; blithe and almost aggressively neutral. "In front of me. I didn't realise until it was too late, but she was my best friend." He paused, idly tracing the lines on his palm, but you got the distinct impression that he was trying very hard to discuss something that was very difficult to talk about.

“I was -“ he broke off with a sharp bark of laughter that sounded as painful as it was unexpected. “I was angry, actually. Fucking livid. Angry at my dad, for being such a piece of shit. Angry at myself, for every time I thought I was too cool to spend time with her. Angry at her because…because it was too soon, and she was all I had. And she knew that.”

Theo had a white knuckle grip on the edge of the tower’s floor, looking dangerously close to trembling. Every ridge in his face stood taut with the ache of poorly healed emotional wounds. “She knew it. She fucking knew it.”

You placed a hand over his. He drummed his fingers restlessly against the floor, and you could feel the agitation seeping out of him as his breathing evened out.

“How did you get over it? The anger?”

Theo gave you a strange, almost pitying look.

“I’m angry nearly every day of my life, Y/N.”

He sighed and dropped his head, finally leaning into you as well, his hand drifting innocently along your arm as he talked, as if you were old friends. “But if Matteo and the others have drilled anything in my head over the years, it’s that isolating yourself is the real killer.”

Your fists were clenched tightly in your lap. It was almost comforting, seeing how your body language mirrored each other's. You didn't think you would ever feel ready to do it once more, letting yourself be susceptible to heartbreak or loss, in this lifetime or the next, but perhaps...perhaps you could manage. For him. You turned slightly, burying your face into his neck and closing your eyes.

“I suppose…I could try," you started in a small voice, partially muffled by Theo's shirt. You took a deep breath in. God, his neck smelled so good. "One last time."

“Of course you can,” Theo murmured, sounding unreasonably patient. “You’re stronger than this.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

You let him keep holding you for a little while longer, just until you warmed up to the idea The quiet felt nice. Theo felt nice, in every sense of the phrase.

“I’m starting to think you didn’t come here for just a smoke break.”

"Ivy might have mentioned something," he confessed. You bit back a smile. You should have guessed. "Your friends really care about you, you know. And you've really worried them."

The bitter taste of guilt hit your jaw. You idly traced the stitching of Theo's jean's pockets. Someone else also seemed rather worried, though you weren't about to point that out.

"Have I?"

"Afraid so. You're lucky you're so precious."

Theo tapped your nose, and for the first time that evening, you grinned. After weeks of wandering in a cloud of grief, the motion felt achingly familiar. Theo returned the smile, as if you couldn't help but amuse him.

“There it is.”

“There what is?”

He looked momentarily speechless again. You frowned. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that you made him as nervous as he made you.

“Nothing,” he mumbled hastily. “Can we go back down? It’s freezing up here.”

present day

"Morning."

With some difficulty, you extracted yourself from Theo's embrace. You cleared your raspy throat as you stretched out your stiff limbs.

"H'llo."

Theo leaned down to give you a peck on the lips and you wrapped your arms around his neck. As he pulled back, your hands slid to his face, then down to his shoulders. You weren't entirely sure what you were looking for. "Better?"

"Yes." You saw the sleepy bliss fading from his face. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"You didn't," you lied. "I was up anyway."

Theo quirked an eyebrow interestedly. "What could a respectable girl like you be doing at three in the morning?"

You giggled softly and pulled him on top of you, and you thought he gave a rather appealing demonstration on what you might have been doing. A while later, you glanced at the clock, and saw that it was getting dangerously close to afternoon.

"We should probably get up."

"Mhm. You still need to decide what you want for Christmas, by the way."

Cold air rushed in as Theo rolled off of you, pulling his clothes on. You dragged yourself to the bathroom, still trying to figure out what to ask for. When you stepped out, feeling much more human, Theo was missing. You wandered into the empty common room where he had already set out two steaming mugs of that disgusting peppermint tea on one of the tables, complete with candy canes.

His eyebags are terrible as ever, and he's yawning, but he looks happy. Content. As content as you feel. And you think, this is all you want. For Theo to always get the cold side of his pillow, all the peppermint tea he could want, pleasant Hogsmeade trips...a real break, for once. For him to get everything that he asks for, and more.

bonus outtake

"Let's talk about something else. Anything else." Theo pulled you into his lap. "Like what an adorable elf you make."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "I'm not sneaking you into this year's gift donation drive."

"Why not?"

You should have known this was coming. "Listen, you got yourself banned last year."

"It wasn't even my fault. You didn't even hear how snarky that guy was being. 'Oh, where's your present?' Jackass."

"The jackass was 13, Theo."

He sniffed with an injured air. "It's not like I lied to him or something, you know."

"Again, for the last time, I cannot impress enough how incredibly inappropriate it is to point out one of the helper elves as your 'present' to a 13-year-old boy."

"But you were my present. I got to unwrap you and everything afterwards."

#okay look so to explain the outtake #i had soooo many drafts and revisions of this fic like the plot changed so drastically and very frequently #the outtake is from one of the drafts/iterations #and i included it here cuz I like it so much that i know if i dont post it somewhere im not going to be able to let go of it #which means i would end up trying to force it into random fics where it does not fit just for the sake of it #hence i just thought to tack it on here ^^#theo nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott angst

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 1 year ago

Note

Not sure if you've closed or open requests but

How do you feel about writing a Yan! Slime? Could be platonic or romantic up to you! Idk slimes are cute :3

(also I'm permanently gonna low key stalk ur blog since again yummy yan fics hope you don't mind me staying- /hj)

CW: Wholesome, romantic, stalker monster love ahead ❤️ proceed with caution❤️

Accidently pushed post whoops done now lol

The five year old boy burst through the bushes, tumbling awkwardly and unskillfully before slowly popping up onto his feet and swinging his stick sword forward. His sibling, (Reader), high stepped carefully over the branches of the bush their brother had just crashed through. (Reader) nervously held their own sword, following their older brother into the woods.

"Jay, can we please go back?" (Reader) whined, trying not to cry nervously as they "explored" deeper into the forest.

"Don't be a baby!" Jay chastised, raising his arms high above his head. "How are you gonna be a monster hunter if you're too chicken?!"

(Reader) grumbled, dragging their shoes in the dirt. "I don't wanna be a monster hunter.. I wanna go home! I'm hungry!"

Jay opened his mouth, and raised his fists, ready to say something when something moved nearby, plopping loudly into a pile of dry leaves. His big, childish eyes went wide with fear, immediately losing all confidence and hiding behind (Reader), holding his thin stick in front of his face defensively. He was too scared to speak, trembling into (Reader's) back.

The younger of the two felt a surge of strength, needing to protect their beloved big brother, so they gripped their weapon with both hands, scrunching up their chubby little face to appear tough. They stomped over to the bush the sound came from, holding their breath, unlike Jay who was hyperventilating. (Reader) removed one pudgy hand from their stick, and swiftly pushed back the little branches, exposing a tiny green blob.

Jay released a high pitched scream and took off running back home, dropping his stick.

The glob was vibrating, and (Reader) was instantly filled with sympathy, assuming the little ball of goo was shaking with fear. "Hey, don't be scared." The four year old cooed, dropping their 'sword' and sitting on their knees to be closer. "I'm sorry, I thought you were a monster." (Reader's) cheesy grin showed off their missing front teeth.

Whatever the green thing was slowly went still, and (Reader) could feel it looking up at them.

"My name is (Reader), and I'm," they looked at their fingers, focusing on holding up the right number, before practically shoving their fingers in the glob's personal space, "four years old!"

The goo reached forward, forming a little nub of a hand, touching (Reader's) fingers. It was surprisingly warm. (Reader) opened their hand so it could roll onto their palm.

"Burrrrble!" The thing happily gurgled, looking quite pleased despite it's lack of a face.

"Burble? Is that your name?"

"Prrrr?" It patted their hand, not understanding the question. (Reader) laughed, feeling ticklish.

"I'm gonna be your best friend!" They decided, cupping the slime with both hands, still giggling over the sticky tingling the little guy caused. "I'll visit you every day, and we can play together everyday after school!"

And (Reader) kept their promise, visiting every single day, for years. The two friends grew up together, Burble learning to speak (Reader's) language over time as (Reader) brought their homework into the woods to have more time with Burble while they studied. Jay kept Burble's existence a secret, but never got over his fear of the creature, so he kept his distance from the two while they played.

Burble had a difficult time not praising (Reader) for their heroics, because if they did it would reveal that Burble had been watching them at school. Living alone in the woods was isolating, especially as a monster, their presence frightening off animals of all species. At first it was just because of how lonely they were, wanting to leave the forest to be with (Reader). They turned Burble down, reminding them how dangerous it would be, now no longer the naive child who didn't understand that slimes were monsters. But, no one would know if Burble attached just a little piece of themselves inside (Reader's) backpack, just to hear their voice while they were away.

Fourteen years later, Burble had been practicing in secret, forming their naturally round body into a humanoid form, trying to perfect their appearance before they revealed themselves to (Reader). It happened so naturally, Burble falling in love with their one and only friend. They wondered if (Reader) could ever feel the same. (Reader) was just so perfect; they were kind and strong, preferring pacifism, but quick to throw themselves in danger's way to protect the ones they love, just like when they first met. Even at school, (Reader) would stand up for those being bullied on a regular basis, gaining a reputation for standing up for those too scared to protect themselves. And they never bragged about it!

The green slime learned so much about (Reader) through the way they interacted with others at school, and fell deeper in love everytime they opened their mouth. (Reader) was an angel on Earth.

(Reader) trudged into the forest behind their home, exhausted after field hockey but refusing to take even a day off from visiting their best friend. It was surprising, learning that Burble was less of a pet and actually a sentient being with thoughts and feelings, but that was even more exciting, being able to communicate with a species not known for their intelligence. Burble rolled onto view, now a very large blob the size of (Reader) if they tucked in their arms and legs.

"(Reader)!" They happily gurgled, jiggling up to the high school senior. "How was your day?"

"Same old, same old." (Reader) lied, still wearing their gym shirt because their original clothes got soaked with milk after they stood up to Cody, the biggest dick they ever met.

Burble knew this, however, and was fine with (Reader) lying, knowing they were just being humble. It made their non-existent heart swell. (Reader) pulled out a bunch of classwork, and a brochure slipped out from a folder. "What's that?"

"Oh, that's a pamphlet for a university. Admissions are coming up, so I've been looking around."

The green color lightened almost to a sick looking yellow. Burble hadn't heard anything about this! What did they mean?!

"Burble, you okay?"

"Does that mean you're leaving?" Burble's voice shook, wobbling their jelly body.

"Yeah, if I make it in, but that's still half a year away, so we have time-"

Burble cut them off. "Don't go."

(Reader) sighed, placing a hand on top of their friend's smooth body. "I can't stay with my parents forever. I want to go explore, meet new people, hopefully get a career a have a passion for."

"Then take me with you!" Burble shouted, heating up under (Reader's) hand, the yellow intensifying.

The now yellow blob lunged at (Reader), morphing into a humanesque shape, creating a beautiful face that looked to be on the verge of tears. Burble held (Reader) to the ground, trapping (Reader's) body with their arms and knees.

"Burble, what the hell?" (Reader) wasn't angry, or nervous, just confused, not understanding what had gotten into their childhood friend.

"You can't leave me alone, (Reader), please!" Burble was incapable of forming tears, but their body ached like they were sobbing, rumbling instead of heaving as they didn't need to breathe. They slammed their face onto (Reader's), knowing what kissing was from a picture book (Reader) had shown them as a child, but not quite understanding how to actually do it. Their newly formed lips moved against (Reader's) timidly, easily holding down the struggling human. Burble broke the kiss so (Reader) could gasp for air. "I love you, (Reader), please don't leave me!"

A hurricane of emotions ripped (Reader's) mind apart, struggling with accepting what was happening. Their first kiss was taken by their best friend, who was still holding them tightly against the dirt ground.

"Let's.. let's talk about this later.. I need to go home." (Reader) stuttered, overwhelmed by the emotions they never felt before rampaging in their skull. Burble sunk lower, melting over (Reader's) body to better prevent their leaving.

"No.. not until you promise not to leave me." Their voice was barely a whisper, begging for (Reader) to love them back.

"I-I won't leave you. We'll figure something out.. You've just gotten too big to hide and-" Burble's weight was heavy on (Reader's) ribcage. "we'll figure something out."

Satisfied, Burble sat up and rolled off of (Reader), slowly changing back to their natural green hue. "You promise?"

"I promise." (Reader) face a sad smile, still incapable of fearing their dear friend.

Burble smiled, barely maintaining their shape as they allowed (Reader) to leave. They trusted (Reader), even if (Reader) didn't accept their confession at that moment, there was no way they would break their promise. And, if for some reason they did, if someone like their nervous brother fear mongered (Reader) into abandoning Burble, they would always be able to find them. The green slime collapsed back into a ball, happily listening to (Reader) through the tiny piece of themselves still hiding in (Reader's) backpack.

"Please come back soon.."

#soft yandere #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #yandere slime #accidentally posted this early instead of saving it as a draft #whoops #i'm just really stupid lol #so sorry #not proofread #i hope you like it #again i'm so sorry #i'm really dumb

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crispy-armpit · 2 years ago

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✧ 𝖎'𝖒 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖘 ✧

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʀᴏᴄᴋꜱᴛᴀʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

☆⋆｡🎧𖦹 °✩ 🎸⋆⸜♩

⭒ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢��𝘺: reminisce about your forgotten first meeting with Deimos 3 years ago. meanwhile, you've been invited to watch his concert after the previous events. (pt.2)

⭒ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵: 𝘨𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘯𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘺, violence, implied stalking, reader gets called a bitch, (slight) sadism, kinda tame

⭒ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1,495

⭒ a/n: dear lord i am simping for my own art... hope u all enjoy reading this! i'll be opening asks & make a short introduction in the next post ^^ ( yan jock makes an appearance here too!)

will you venture down this path?

where is he?

did I walk in the wrong direction?

am I lost?

... nope, this is the right place.

you are standing alone in a dark alleyway, looking around the location you agreed to meet your friend in. checking the virtual clock on your phone, you count the time you have left before you go on stage. 32 minutes.

time was ticking and he was still nowhere in sight. there's no way you could perform the duet alone. anxiously, you try texting your friend again.

You 》 17:28

bro where are u

i'm alr here

are u lost again

LIAM

liam

liaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam

fuck it, i'm leaving him. alleys are never good news. ever since you entered the place, your stomach has been in knots and the back of your head was tingling. it's almost as if... someone's been watching you.

typing on the small screen, you tell him you're going to meet him behind the stage instead. you speed walk towards the end of the tunnel, relieved you were leaving this place. you almost reach the exit until a rough hand pulls on your wrist.

a gruff voice speaks, "hey, you dropped this."

SHIT, I'M GOING TO DIE—

without thinking, you instinctively clench your fists into a ball and punch the unknown 'assailant' on the nose— effectively causing him to bleed. the stranger gasps out various curse words as you turn to scream and run away.

"I'M SORRYYyyyy—"

knuckles still bruised from the impact, you try to hide them as best as you can from the crowd's attention. Liam had managed to arrive on time, seconds before the performance. he claimed to have come across an old friend on the way who was difficult to shake off. but that was all in the past, and he has yet to notice your injured knuckles.

currently, you are performing on the stage in front of a sea of people. with your friend on the acoustic guitar, you both sang a duet that sang of two lovers, a confession of how one felt incomplete without the other.

it was a popular song, so Liam insisted on it. you were glad he did because in the end, the happy crowd's applause rang loud across your ears. a sound you'll always love.

now off the stage, you and Liam decide to explore the festival's offerings. the spring festival at night is beautiful— lanterns clipped across the starry sky and flowers and people littering the area. you approach one of the food stalls that lined the streets, purchasing a sundae of your favourite flavour.

as you are about to pay, you rummage through your pockets and realise... your wallet is gone. did i leave it at home?! Liam seems to pick up on your situation as he pulls out his own wallet, "i'll pay for them." you thank him and promise to pay him back. "it's alright, you don't have to." he smiles.

suddenly, a loud voice approaches the both of you, "Oi, Lili! ya did great up there, man." you turn to see a group of four people heading your way who were all dressed head-to-toe in punk clothing and carrying band equipment. they must be a band. a slim man holding wooden drumsticks pats Liam on the back, and he shortly notices you.

"oh? hello there, mx. the name's Vern." he grins and offers you a handshake, to which you politely return.

"y/n. nice to meet you, Vern. I'm a friend of Liam's."

"a friend of Liam is a friend of mine, y/n!" Vern heartily laughs, "let me introduce you to the gang, y/n— of course, you've met me, the drummer. that lady with red hair is Kyra, the lead guitarist. the young-looking fellow with shit for brains is Astrid, our second guitarist. and finally, our beloved lead singer and bassist, D—"

you don't have time to react before your face is roughly grabbed by a hand larger than your head, cheeks squished. you try to pry your face away from the thick fingers of the unknown man, as you shakily look up at his furrowed eyes. he's seething, and you don't know why.

"it's you. fucking bitch."

you don't know what you've done to this man to warrant such a reaction, you've never even met him before!... right? you think back to earlier in the day when you punched the stranger from the alley. shit, it's him.

though muffled by his palms, you still manage to voice out an apology. for the first time in your life, you feel a sensation rushing through your blood. dread and terror. in the corner of your eyes, you spot Liam being held back by a concerned Vern and Astrid.

you desperately try to pull his hand off your face while repeating apologies, but it's useless. he's too strong. the tall stranger continues to stare at you and you swear he was enjoying this. if not for the sick glint in his eyes or the soft panting from his pierced lips, then maybe for the light blush dusting his cheeks.

after what felt like hours, he finally lets go. you immediately massage your aching jaw and cheeks at his release. the stranger scoffs and hands you a familiar item... it's your wallet! "...found this in the alley. you throw a good punch." you gently take the small pouch off his hands and thank him.

a ghost of a smirk morphs on his face before he grunts and walks past you. the others instantly follow behind him like baby ducks trailing their mother, but not without giving you a sympathetic look. Vern checks up on you before joining his group, "woah, he's never spared anyone before. sorry about him, but i hope you'll still come to watch us?"

Liam, who is no longer held back, runs to your side and inspects your face. "are you alright?? fuck, I should teach him not to mess with you!" he angrily shouts. you're still recovering from shock. but that doesn't stop you from thinking how nice the stranger's smile looked. "do you want to go home? i'll drive you bac—"

with newfound motivation, you're able to speak again, "no, i'm fine. let's go watch the next show!"

you and Liam stand in front of the stage, somehow having managed to get past the current of people. there are way more people than before, and you notice some of them are holding signs. confused, you turn to the person next to you and ask her, "hey, what's with all the people? is a celebrity coming?"

she looks at you astounded, "you seriously don't know? Ares is performing next! they're like, all over social media right now." Ares? you don't think you've heard any singer with that name before. before you can ask who they are, waves of screams fill your ears as 4 pairs of feet walk on stage. you look back at Liam to see him clapping for the band, following his gaze, you accidentally lock eyes with a pair of heterochromatic eyes.

he acknowledges your presence with a lazy lift of his brow and faces the crowd again. this time, the audience shouts in union.

ARES!

ARES!!

ARES!!!

the electrifying sound of a guitar and drums booms through the speakers. the ground vibrates along with the rhythm, as your heartbeat follows along. the song begins, but it's not until you hear the deep bass of the leader's voice do you feel the aching throb of your core.

(R U Mine? - Arctic Monkeys)

I'm a puppet on a string

holy shit.

She's a silver linin', lone ranger ridin' through an open space...

his voice is intoxicating.

In my mind, when she's not right there beside me

I go crazy 'cause here isn't where I wanna be

your heart feels like it's about to burst out of your chest.

And satisfaction feels like a distant memory

And I can't help myself

All I wanna ever say is, "Are you mine?"

yes.

Well, are you mine?

Are you mine?

Are you mine? Oh, ah

i'm yours.

his deep voice that was once laced with anger and malice— now brings your own heart to tears. you could only think about what was going through his mind to sing a beautiful song in such a wrenching manner. and on that day, you swore to one day bring someone to tears with your voice, just like he had with you.

but what you did not know was that you'd already done the exact same thing to Deimos earlier that day. and for that, he'd follow you down every road until there comes a time when your paths meet again.

back in the present, you've been forced invited to watch Deimos' latest concert. like before, you sat at the very front row, right in front of his assigned position. the only difference from then was his lovestruck eyes that would never leave your figure.

in the end, he was yours.

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outstretchedwingzz · 1 month ago

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♱ timeloop yan♱

i was scrolling back through some old art and found a drawing from like four years ago of my first ever yan oc!! so now he's y'all's problem hope u love him <3

(THIS IS SO LONG FOR A PART ONE LMAO IM SO SORRY)

⟡ The one on the right is the old art of him!! My boy!!

⟡ His name at one point was Lucas, however I'm retconning that and thinking of a new one because Why Would I Choose Lucas

⟡ Some Tuesdays are just better than others, you've decided. You had a rough day, some kid had spilled fruit punch down your front, you had spent a frankly ridiculous amount of time trying to de-popcorn the aisles of the movie theater you worked at, and you kept getting pestered by some shy dude who wouldn't even buy a ticket! He just kept asking nonsense questions and then shuffling back to the arcade!

⟡ All you wanted to do when you got home was shower until you were a raisin, play video games until your brain was mashed potatoes, and then curl up in your bed.

⟡ The next morning you wake up feeling a little better, very little residual blah left from how shit your previous day was. Luckily, you had today off to reset and recharge.

⟡ That being said, you stayed up late and slept in even later, only to be woken up to the sound of your phone ringing where you had tossed it the night before. You groan and grumble as you get up, shuffling your way to your phone and picking it up.

⟡ It's your boss, because why wouldn't it be, and he's asking you why the hell you aren't there yet! Your brain takes a moment to kick back into gear before you answer that you had worked a double YESTERDAY and had today off.

⟡ All you get is an angry "Check again! And be here before I start goin' grey, yeah?" and then he just hangs up on you. You fucking hate that guy. Still, you check your schedule while grumbling and muttering some not so nice things.

⟡ The shock and dread settles in your stomach when your calendar finally loads in, and in big, bolded letters at the top it tells you that today is Tuesday, and you definitely have work today.

⟡ You register that "oh. i think im passing out." in the second before you hit the corner of your desk.

⟡ You wake up with a gasp, sitting up quick and clutching your chest, looking around wildly only to find yourself.... back in your bed. The clock on your wall tells you it's morning. You scramble quickly to your feet, rushing to grab your phone and begging it to not be slow as you open your calendar.

⟡ Tuesday.

⟡ Now, skipping past the inevitable few Tuesday long breakdown you have where you simply refuse to believe this is happening, you eventually figure out the loop resets every night when you go to sleep, or if you somehow die. That was a fun few days.

⟡ After a week or so of this, and of screaming profanities as your boss over the phone for a few of the loops, you decide to maintain some normalcy you were gonna start going to work. Sure you never gained any money, but at least it got you out of your house and sometimes you could even pretend that things were different day in and day out.

⟡ After awhile even that gets boring though, when everyone becomes recognizable, and you begin to know what movie tickets they're gonna get and their exact food order.

⟡ It's only after three days of monotony (yet you refuse to stop going to work, clinging to the last shreds of some kind of normal) that you realize that it's not all the same.

⟡ Well, one thing changes. That guy, the one who kept asking questions that first day. Sometimes he wasn't even there, and everyday he seemed to have different questions. Ranging from personal, to stuff about the work, but still different.

⟡ It's that sudden lightbulb moment that has you going off the rails just a tiny bit.

⟡ You're stuck waiting a few days for the next time he comes in, but eventually he does. He always does. He's hardly able to get a word out before you're scrambling over the counter, and grabbing him by the front of his shirt. You choke him a little on his own necklace, but that's fine.

⟡ It's not until you're in the corner of that dusty little arcade he hangs out in that you shove him up against the wall, glaring daggers into his soul.

⟡ (Ignore the way he wets his lips and just how much it looks like he's giving you heart eyes right now it's all totally in your imagination.)

⟡ "Who the fuck are you, and how the fuck are you doing this?" Are the first words out of your mouth. He looks confused for a second, going to open his mouth when you just start rambling.

⟡ About the never ending fucking Tuesday, about having to clean up the same spills everyday, about getting the same bullshit call from your boss, about selling everyone the same! Fucking! Movie ticket! It's never ending!

⟡ It's not until you stop to breathe that you realize just how hard he's shaking. Just how his chest heaves as he sobs, hands having came up to clutch at your wrist desperately.

⟡ You step back quickly, dropping his shirt and in turn dropping him. He scrambles forward on his knees, gripping the thighs of your pants with shaking hands.

⟡ "You're stuck too?"

#yandere #sub yandere #yan boy #timeloop yan #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere x reader #gn reader #hes so gross i love him

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soxcietyy · 1 year ago

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Racer Yuuta pt2

Yuuta x fem reader

Part 3

Continuation of part 1, I’m horrible at descriptions so… also please read authors note down below!

˚₊‧꒰𓆩 ♱ 𓆪꒱ ‧₊˚ forbidden love, brat taming, 5 year age gap, 18 + content, gagging.

Gojo ended up picking you up and taking you home. You couldn’t help but feeling so happy from tonight. You bopped your head to the music Gojo played in his car as you relived thoes memories in your head. If your uncle wasn’t here you would be screaming and kicking your feet. You Guys ended up exchanging contact information but you felt to nervous to text him first. What do you even say? You wernt trying to sound childish and just set hey. Maybe he was the type of man that like woman who played hard to get. Though that wouldn’t make sense since you were the one to confess to him.

"What had you all giddy?" Gojo asks as he noticed your absurd behavior.

You callado your hands together and look at him "I’m just so happy you took me out uncle Gojo, do you think I can come with you to the race?!" You say looking at him with your big glossy eyes.

Gojo let a loud hum as he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. Trying to think if he should let you go or not. Yuuta didn’t say anything bad about you tonight so maybe he would agree. But Geto would get back from his trip in the morning. Then again he’s leaving to America the day of the race so the odds were perfect for you.

"I’ll agree if you don’t embarrass me tomorrow at dinner. I’m having a few of the guys competing coming over and the last thing I need is you telling them my business."

All three of you lived together in this house because well they didn’t find the need in having their own place. Gojo would feel too lonely and nobody would be able to take care of you back when you were younger while Geto had trips. So it was a win win situation if they lived in one place.

"But won’t dad get mad if you bring people from drag racing home?" You tilt your head.

He let out another long hum. "I doubt it, he knows most of them. Plus it will remind him of the good old times. We were so young and wild, you probably wouldn’t be able to recognize your pop’s. I’m just not sure if you’re going to be allowed out your room but in case you are granted permission you better shut your mouth." He says as he drives down your neighborhood.

You roll your eyes knowing that you would have to convince your dad.

The next day you woke up to see you dad was home. You gave him a hug and helped him bring his things inside. You usually never woke up this early but you had eavesdropping to do. You had no idea who was coming but you hoped it was Yuuta. Like why wouldn’t he come? He’s Gojos pupil after all!

You help prepare breakfast and serve it to you dad and uncle as they spoke. Nothing could beat pancakes and bacon on a lazy Sunday. The second you heard Gojo say "hey Suguru" you knew it was going to be about a favor or idea. You quickly threw your portion of breakfast on a plate and ran to the table. Sitting down you pretend to not care about their conversation like usual.

Gojo told him about his dinner plans and your dad said that it was fine with him. Though he wanted to know who was coming over. He wasn’t going to let Gojo bring just any stranger inside.

"Yuji, Todo, Shoko, Nanami and Yuta." He said

Hearing his name made you choke on your orange juice making them both quirk a brow at you. You had no idea why you were so surprised by it since you called it not too long ago. You coughed as you waved them off telling them to ignore you.

You could see your dad’s face as he was thinking deeply. "Sweetheart are you nervous about having so many guys over? That’s okay you can stay in your room and hang out with Shoko." Your dad said looking concerned.

"No! That’s not it at all, I just couldn’t believe uncle Gojo has that many friends!" You say trying to somewhat change the topic.

Gojo let out a dry laugh. Not being able to believe you at all. He didn’t try to interrogate you about it though. Soon dinner time arrived and you had finished cooking the curry. When Gojo or your dad had small dinners like this you’d get paid to make the food. Them being rich meant heavy paychecks in your pocket. How else are you supposed to afford to keeping up with the trends. Setting your apron aside you heard the door bell ring.

You quickly run to your room to get ready for the night. You brushed your hair, did your makeup, and put on a silky light purple dress on. Everything and to be perfect tonight, you had to be perfect. Was this color good or did it make you look like a kid? You soon began to mess with the paint of your manicure. You stood at your door for who knows how long anxious to see what’s in the other side. Yuuta had yet to text you making you feel like you like this was one sided. Then again you hadn’t texted him either but that’s because you didn’t know what to say. What are you supposed to say to a guy like him? You didn’t want to seem annoying or desperate. It’s almost as if he heard your thoughts because a text soon came in.

Yuuta: I wonder what you’re doing in that little room of yours that is making you take so long. Trying to look cute for me?

You could feel your heart pounding heavily against your chest. Opening the door you walk down the stairs to see everyone is here. The first one to notice you is Yuuta who’s looking at you as if you were prey. You feel a sudden shiver knowing he has eyes on you. Those were the same dark eyes that had you melting last night. You approach the table where everyone is talking to introduce yourself but you knew there was no need.

"Ah my dear y/n, everyone this is my daughter y/n who just graduated high school not too long ago." You dad said making everyone look at you. The last part was unnecessary but either way you give them a small wave as you excuse yourself into the kitchen to start serving food. Pulling plates out the cabinet you place them out and start serving them one by one. Putting a spoon of white rice on one side and the curry in the other. When you got to the table you couldn’t help but look away from him. He made you feel so nervous that the butterflies in your stomach were about to burst out. The way he looked at you was so intimidating that it made your legs weak. Oh how you hated how this boy had a huge chokehold on you.

"They put my Angel to work I see," you hear someone say as they grab your waist. You jolt at the sudden surprise and turn to see that it was Yuuta. Today he wore a black shirt with some casual grey slacks. You give him a nod as you go back to serving food. Hands shakily holding the plate. You see as his hand comes into view and holds the plate still for you. All of a sudden you’ve become mute. Not being able to say anything but blush. His other hands snakes around your waist as they trail all the way down to your thighs. You bite your lip trying to hold on any possible squeak that may come out of you. It’s not that you hated it, more like it was driving you crazy. How his cold hand slowly moved up. Teasing you by gripping the fat of your inner thigh. His large hands then proceeded to go back up. Going under your dress just to stop when he found something interesting.

"Where have your panties gone? Did they get lost on your way here? I can also see that you have no bra on from how perky you nipples are looking through the dress" Hes says as he slids a finger in between your folds. You muffled a moan as his finger slid deeper into your wet slit. He makes you put the plate down slowly since he noticed your body quivering too much. He wouldn’t want you dropping a plate and making a mess.

"Gone all shy on me angel? You were so bratty and demanding yesterday. Or could you be trying to be on your best behavior tonight?" He asks as he brings his coated finger up to his mouth and taste your slik. This was not what you thought would happen tonight. You took him for a shy guy who was scared to do anything but here he was toying and tasting you. "You look so fucking perfect like this, my cute obedient angel letting me do anything to her."

"What’s all this chattering about?" You both freeze at the sudden question. Yuuta is the first one to turn his head around to see it was your dad standing in the kitchen entrance. Thank god Yuuta was huge and covered your body up so easily because you were mentally a mess right now.

"Ah I just came to help your daughter out with the food. Felt bad knowing that we were just sitting while she worked." Yuuta said as he grabbed the plate you set down and turned his body fully with another one he found next to him. Geto gave him an approving smile as Yuuta began to walk out the kitchen. He stopped half way in his tracks to look at you.

"By the way y/n, it tasted amazing."

Your face suddenly became beat red knowing what he was referring too. When he left you handed two plates to your dad. He couldn’t possibly think he was leaving the kitchen without being a helping hand. He gives you a tired smile and takes the plates to the table.

When you’re done you bring your plate to the table. Then you noticed the only available seat was in between Yuuta and your dad. You nervously sat down in between them and started eating. The dinner went by fast and easy. Everyone complimented your cooking skills and asked for the recipe. Gojo shut them up real quick saying that he would never allow his niece to give out such valuable information. You and Shoko spoke about how annoying these two grown adults were and there random things as you had Yuta on your left caressing your thigh. Shoko eventually pulled out a cigarette and started smoking making your dad roll his eyes.

"Shoko can you let me have a few drags?" Yuta pirks up when he sees her light it. She shrugs and hands it to him. You didn’t know he smoked at all though you didn’t know much about him period. You watch as he leaves the dinning table and walks to the back porch outside.

"I thought he stopped smoking," Itadori says

"He must be craving something, back then when he was a rookie he would smoke when he wanted something. If he wanted Icecream but couldn’t find an open shop he would simply smoke. Though that was years ago. Whatever he’s craving must be driving him crazy." Gojo laughed.

You could feel the heat began to pool down there. Your gaze turned to look at him to find him blowing out smoke while looking at you from afar. There was no way that he could be craving you?!

The dinner soon came to an end and everyone was leaving. They were bidding there goodbyes outside but Yuuta had stayed back for a bit to be with you,

"I’m guessing you’re going to the race tomorrow?" Yuta asks as he looks at you.

"That’s the plan, I guess I’ll be seeing you then." You say as you give him a hug. He gives into it and hugs you tighter. Placing two soft kisses on your forehead. Your heart sunk in pain as he waved goodbye and left.

The next day you sent your dad off to the airport. Gojo had stayed home trying to do some mechanics on his car before the race. He would do this every time he had a race, spending all day until everything seemed perfect for him. You grew tired of waiting on your uncle so you went into the garage.

"Can you make Yuuta pick me up? I’m so bored and you take forever to fix the car. I at least want to eat before going to the race." You say as you watched him roll up and down from under his car as he picked out tools.

"Can’t really make him do anything, maybe if he calls then I’ll let you go."

He says brushing your questions off because what were the odds of that actually happening. You eventually ended up leaving not satisfied with the answer but he didn’t really care. After working on his car a bit more he eventually finished changing the oil. But before he could get to something else, his phone started ringing. Shuffling around he somehow got the phone next to his ear and answered.

"The one and only," he answered

"Hey Gojo can you let y/n go out with me for the day?"

"Common man are you really giving in to her that easily? You’re not helping her spoiled brat allegations you know." Gojo said as he rolled out from under the car to sit up. When he did he was met with you sitting down on a random stool in the garage. He glared at you for somehow being able to pull strings.

"Sorry Gojo but I did promise her to take her out to eat before the race. I just forgot because iv been so busy on my car." Yuuta said

"Yea, no I get it. Fine you guys go have fun. Please keep your eyes on her. God someone really needs to say no to that girl." He mumbled the last part. You wave Goodbye to Gojo as you leave the house as soon as he got here. You immediately recognize his car and hop inside. He smiled at you sweetly as you put your seatbelt on. He liked the way you dressed, always having a skirt or a dress on to give him easy access in the future. Today you wore a tight red skirt with a black top and a leathered cropped jacket. You looked like an adorable doll that was dressed up. Maybe one day you'll let him dress you up.

on your way to eat you guys talk and talk about anything and everything. Trying to get to know each other better.

You were such a sweet, kind, funny and very adorable person If he had to describe you. That didn’t go for your other side. He could tell you have a big attitude from how you spoke. Though it wasn’t something he couldn’t handle. With the small amount of time you’ve guys spent together he was sure he had you dominated. Like right now he sent you to fetch some napkins and condiments. It’s the little things that matter. As much as he had you under control that didn’t mean that you weren’t going to try him.

Both of you sat together in a booth. Yuta was trying to enjoy his burger but you weren’t quite letting him. You had taken your heel off and rubbed your foot on his crotch. Trying to get a reaction from him that he refused to give.

"Can you let me enjoy my meal?" Yuuta asks as he takes a bite.

"Yuu I want to do it, you’re not actually going to ignore my pleading right?" You smile innocently as you press harder in his member.

He let out a sigh knowing you weren’t going to stop till he gave in. He took another bite of his food and simply ignored your attempts. As much as he loved the thought of doing it with you he knew it wasn’t the time.

"You’re not ready for it." Yuuta said as he stole a fry from your box.

He could have swore he saw your eye twitch at his response. By the time you guys got done eating it was time to head to the race. It was already getting dark and Yuta had to get there early to make sure the event was going smoothly. On your way to his car you kept telling him how you were fully capable of taking him and that he was doing too much. Again he ignored your comments and walked to your side of the car to open it.

When he did you sat on the concrete floor refusing to get in until he said yes. He clenched his jaw as he closed his eyes for a brief moment. He knew Damn well you were not throwing a fit at this moment. Before he could fully let himself calm down he heard someone call out his name. He opened his eyes and saw a guy approaching him. He didn’t look familiar though. The boy eventually made it to Yuuta but stood on the other side of the car.

"Hey man, so glad I caught up to you before you left." He panted as he tried to catch his breath.

"What’s up?" Yuuta asks.

"I need relationship advice, Not trying to sound weird or anything but I saw you and your girl in the restaurant. I saw how you spoke to her and maintained your ground not giving in to her and well I need help with that."

Yuuta did not have time for such conversation and didn’t really enjoy the fact that he was listening to your conversation. Before he could let him down and tell him he was busy he felt something weird. His eyes slowly averted to the ground to find you unzipping his pants. He whispered how much of and idiot you were right now. Fine, if you wanted this so be it.

"You just got to say no to the things you don’t like or want. Obviously you have to take into consideration on what they’re asking or saying. Though I assume you’re saying no to them because you know what’s good for them." Yuuta said as he felt you wrap your wet lips around his member. Going only half way down his shaft.

He couldn’t believe you were doing all of this when you clearly lacked practice and skills. If you were going to do something at least do it right. Though he had to admit it was cute that you were trying so hard to please him. You probably thought he was feeling so good right now. Unfortunately that wasn’t the case.

"Usually they would then try to prove to you that they were capable of doing it. That’s when you let them do it but watch them fail at it. You watch them suffer until you feel like stepping in and actually do something." He said as he leaned onto the car making you hit your head on it. He leaned in so much that he shoved himself all the way in your mouth making you gag.

Luckily the restaurant had music playing loudly outside so the guy couldn’t hear how badly you were gagging.

"With my girl I would personally let her make a fool of herself until she’s learns her lesson." he said smiling at the other guy.

you began tapping his leg begging him for air but he refused. He pulled his hips back and forward ramming into your drooling mouth. You tried to push him off of you but he was so heavy and you were starting to get weak from the lack of air. Still he thrusted deep into your throat. Your vision began to turn white as your jaw slacked.

"Thanks for the advice man, good luck on your race!" The guy said as he left. Yuuta thanked him as he pulled himself out of your mouth causing you to gasp for air. You collapsed onto his feet as you tried to compose yourself.

Yuuta crouched down grabbing you by the arms to help you up.

"At least be good at it next time you decide to go against my word and do what you want." He said helping you get in your seat. You sat there dazed as he reached into his glove box and pulled out some napkins. He folded them and proceeded to wipe your mouth clean. He didn’t want to take you to the race looking like a mess. Grabbing your purse he digs in it and pulls out a lipgloss. He might as well touch up your makeup right now since you’re not capable of doing it yourself.

AN: I couldn’t not fit everything I wanted in this chapter so the race will take place in chapter 3. Sorry for the inconvenience 😞

Tagged people who wanted a part two though I couldn’t really tags most people.

Tags: @officialholyagua @sukunaswifee

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sparkles-rule-4eva · 4 days ago

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Idk if I'm gonna make a review post, exactly, but the things that went on with Sonic's character in movie 3 have left me reeling, and dying to analyze. I don't have many screenshots to share, and the ones I do aren't good quality bc the movie's not released digitally yet, but here goes.

For one, the theme of dealing with grief was so well handled. I was hoping they were going to use the parallel of this Sonic losing someone close to him, just like Shadow had, and that's just what they did. What made it even more painful, however, was how Sonic was faced with the possibility of losing a second parental figure.

Shadow saw him hunched over Tom, pleading with him to wake up, and remembered himself doing the same when Maria had died. That was where Shadow saw a bit of himself in Sonic.

Shadow took mental notes of it, but he didn't back off, though he didn't make any other attempts to hurt Tom. Heck, he wouldn't have attacked in the first place if Tom hadn't been disguised as Walters.

And just... watching the way Sonic just started spiraling after this scene was so heartbreaking. The way he looked so lost and broken as they were taking him away in the ambulance, when Maddie didn't say anything to them, and the camera just zoomed out for a few seconds, showing him and his brothers looking so small and so lost in the world as they were left alone, unsure if their dad would be okay.

Sonic didn't want comfort. After the initial fear and grief, the anger he'd felt earlier when he turned on Shadow came back with a vengeance, quite literally. Looking at their calmer, almost normal everyday life earlier in the movie, it seems everything's fine. Sonic seemed fine and perky. I was taken aback at how calm he was about finding his old cave. He seemed fine, all things considered from earlier in his life. The Before Times, as fanfics have dubbed them.

But the moment his found family was threatened, the moment he was faced with the possibility of losing the home and love he'd finally gotten after so many years of pain and isolation, he fell apart. He became aggressively protective of it. Of course he would want to defend those he loves, but not like this. Not the Sonic we know.

The way Shadow phrased it later, "What kind of hero abandons his friends to seek revenge? Abandons his family?"

That struck a nerve, but Sonic just snapped back, "Don't you dare talk about my family."

The expressions he had after he'd taken the Master Emerald and gone after Shadow were so complex. You can see the mix of emotions on his face. Most clearly, the anger. But mixed in, you see the pain, the grief, the paralyzing fear of losing someone else, and you see how emotionally fragile he really is.

Shadow scoffs about how he'd thought that Sonic cared for them. "Especially the one, what's his name again? Tom?"

And that pushed him over the edge.

The way he just let out that chilling scream of rage and grief and went on to punch Shadow so hard he quite literally sent him flying straight into the moon. He was enraged. He was distressed. He was spiraling. And he was, for a few minutes, completely out of control.

We know that this version of Sonic is not so reserved about killing people, like the game version. In the second movie, Sonic had every intention of killing Robotnik in the final battle, and he thought he succeeded. This marks the second time that if someone threatens Sonic's family, he's out for blood. In that vein, he's like his game counterpart; it's the safety of his loved ones, not himself, that he's concerned about. Passionate about.

Except.

He could not bring himself to do it.

I think part of him was remembering what Walters had said about Shadow having experienced loss, the way he had.

He'd won here. He could've just killed Shadow right then and there. Shadow was even goading him into just doing it. Demanded what he was waiting for. Pointing to his own chest and yelling that he was right there. To just do it. (Another thing to analyze; Shadow was just done with everything and didn't even care if he died at this point, but that's for another post.)

But something was stopping him.

Even in those screenshots, you can see the pain and anger mixed on his face. I could be mistaken, but it looks like there's a tear in his eye. (If I'm right, the idea of him crying during this fight makes me break apart in sadness.)

And then came the flashback. This is what drives me insane.

In Sonic Adventure 2, Shadow is out to destroy the world, and it's remembering Maria's true final wish that stopped him.

I never could've predicted that in this version, it was Sonic who was out to kill someone, kill Shadow, but remembering Tom's words to him about not letting his pain change who he is was what stopped him. Sonic was the one who needed to stop and remember. And that's just what he did. 🥺

And then, only then, was he able to calm down, remember himself, remember what Tom would want him to do. He wasn't handling this the same way he'd handled Longclaw's death. He was turning into exactly what Shadow had become. The horror at realizing what he'd nearly become, what he'd almost done, set in.

He made the right choice in the end because of that. Just like Shadow did in the games. Just like he later did here, too. But Shadow was able to have "redemption" of sorts in this version, not because of some talk, but because he saw the example in Sonic, right in front of him.

We know what happened next, I'm not gonna go much into it. But seeing this whole side of Sonic, the side that just barely slipped out in the last movie, was so, so fascinating. I love how each movie continues to explore him as the main character, in a different way. This one probably got me crying the most. I cried even as I wrote this post and put more pieces together. The more I think about it, the more I love it. 🥹😭💙💛❤️

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic movie 3 #sonic movie 3 spoilers #spoilers #character analysis #scene analysis #sonic movie 3 analysis #sonic wachowski #shadow the hedgehog #movie shadow #tom wachowski #maddie wachowski #wachowski family #scu #sonic cinematic universe #analysis #angst #uugghhhhhh i cant wait to rewatch this movie #im broken

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starringthesturniolos · 7 months ago

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bite me(part 6)-Matt Sturniolo

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

summary: matt hates your guts but all of that changes when he wakes up and finds out your his mate.

contains: vampire!matt x reader, highschool au! (18 years old), dark themes, death, smut (not in this part)

A/N- THIS CHAPTER IS KINDA SAD but y'all will be alright, trust. a lot of violence in this chapter so by all means if that is not your thing please don't read. I want everyone that reads this to ENJOY it. love yall, bye!

matts pov.

the drive back to my house was silent. even with my heightened sense of hearing, I could only hear the sound of our breathing and the quiet hum of my engine. two minutes ago, she had been crying and I saw into the darkness that was her life. key word, was. between the protection spell and me, no one is ever going to hurt her again. a dark thought pops into my head, and ,unlike any other time, I welcome it with open arms.

"do you want him dead?" I mutter, letting the thought free. I said It quietly, but it sounded like I might as well have screamed compared to the quiet of my car. it made my skin crawl and judging by the look on her face, it made her's crawl too. "what is that supposed to mean??" she whips her head to me with fear in her eyes. merciful. I added that to a list of chracteristics that y/n had that I subconsciously accumulated in my own head. even though he hurt her in the worst ways, she'd never want anyone to lay a finger on him.

"he's my dad, matt!" she panics taking my lack of response as a promise that I would go back to her house and finish him off. I put one arm up in defense. "I was just asking. you panic too much, someone should go check your blood pressure.Jesus." I scoff, playing it off as if I wouldn't have gotten rid of him the moment she told she wanted me too.

she slumped back in her seat, clearly relieved. its right then that I notice the dark circles under her eyes. she's tired, and humans need rest. "go to sleep, you look like shit." I quip. if she were in her right mind, she probably would have said something back. instead she brings her knees into her chest and puts her head on the window. her eyes close and in a few minutes her breathing and heart rate slow. she's asleep and my eyes stay on the rough, pot - hole infested road. all the way home, I dodge the holes so she sleeps fine.

unreasonable fear hits my chest at my own actions. when did you start to care so much? is the question I ask myself as I gently lift her sleeping form into my arms to bring her into the house.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

y/n is in the other room, and I wake up to my phone buzzing incessantly. I pick up my phone to see that nick is calling me. "he disappears off the face of the earth for two days and all of a sudden he wants to chit chat at the crack of dawn", I think to myself before smashing the accept call button in annoyance. "what?" my gruff voice answers in a more than grumpy tone.

"I need you to come to meet me, now! I'll send you my location. do not bring anyone with you, and do not to take your sweet ass time either matt." he says seriously. I can hear in his voice he is fighting to keep himself from sounding panicked. sensing the danger he's in, worry surges through me, and I can't help but wonder what he's gotten himself into. "don't worry nick, im coming." I say back just as seriously before hanging up the phone and rushing out the house.

I drive over as fast as I can to the unknown spot. it's just a clearing of trees and grass where two cars are parked side by side. ones nicks' and the other is someone's I don't recognize. I hop out of the car quick on high alert. nick where are you??

"you think you can just take my daughter and get away with it. I'm sorry son, but you're in for a real treat." says a terrifying voice that-unless god forbid I took another girl to my house tonight- could only be y/n's fathers’. I turn slowly to see him, a tall, burly man. he's holding nick close too him, a knife pressed lightly against the sensitive skin of his neck. regulary, I would look at this and shrug, vampires aren't supposed to be able to die. but nick's neck is bleeding from where the knife lightly grazes him. vampires can make other people bleed, but they themselves can't bleed, at least that's how it's supposed to be. even though the wound wasn't deep enough to be lethal, the wound itself was the problem to begin with. All thoughts aside, I lunge forward to grab nick away from the man but he dodges with unnatural speed. he smells human, but he's quick, too quick, which can only mean one thing.

y/n's dad is a fucking lunatic magic user, and, based on the position he's got me and nick in right now , he's a damn strong one too.

he throws nick to the side right then, and nick flops to the floor gasping for breath and clutching his bleeding throat. I freeze in fear for what's happened to nick. for what is going to happen to me. he waves the same knife he had pressed against nick at me in tauntingly cold, cut motions.

"matt, run" nick says weakly. my feet listen to nick's instructions, and I turn to bolt, only to find the powerful magic user right in front of me in an instant. before I can react, he plunges the knife into my stomach in three quick motions. unbearable pain laces through me and I feel something coming that I never thought I'd ever have to experience. that something is death.

"should of asked for a protection spell yourself." he lets out a cold, hard laugh as I drop to the floor slipping into an abyss of darkness.

@bbernard-03

@sturnthepot

@hoeformatt

@sturtriple16

@faygo-frog

@sturniol0s

@katie-tibo

@cindylcuwho

@I34n

@chrissv4amp

@sturnslimited

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut

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danieyells · 7 months ago

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@2flowerz also asked for Lyca so

NOW WITH 100% MORE DOGGO LYCA. HE IS DEFINITELY A HUMAN AND NOT A WEREWOLF. He is trying very hard to be a human. I love him very much. . . .

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"...You again. Where're we going today?"

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"Hey, you got letters. Don't you have to read them? Oh, don't you know how?"

he understands if you can't read, man. neither can he.

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"You smell sweeter than usual today... Stop. Go away."

after learning that the pc is going to turn into the anomaly that cursed them any sort of 'you smell nicer than normal' feels like such a threat lmao

"You want to touch me? Fine. Ten seconds and that's it."

that is more than enough my good sir

"When I find Neros, I wanna prove I've been getting along with humans. Then he'll definitely let me live with him."

considering he related the term 'neglect play' to what Neros did to him. . .I'm not so sure. . .and if Neros was as old as he sounds like he was, I wonder if he's even still alive. . . .

"Hey! Moth-eaten Casanova! Where'd you go? I'm gonna show you my special move today."

"special move" in Japanese is 「必殺技」 or 'lethal move'/'killer technique', usually unique to a person or fighting style. Not sure if he wants to show Ed how cool he is or try and kill him lmao--

"This phone thingy they gave me keeps making noises and making me jump... Why do I gotta carry it everywhere? It's scary!"

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"Mnn... Let me sleep... Don't touch me... Zzz..."

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Laws, school regulations, anomalous law... Manners, morals, rules... How're you s'posed to remember all that?"

man i wish i could tell you. . .i've mostly got the morals in order, that's basically just 'don't do harm to others' when you get down to it. laws are about 50% 'don't do things that may endanger you or others' and 50% bullshit. the rest you're kinda on your own with.

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Urgh... My skin's crawling... Moon must be gettin' round soon..."

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"At first I was sad 'cause I got put in a different house to Suba, but all kinds of stuff happens here every day so it was fine."

awww he was sad because he doesn't get to see Subaru as often but he's not bored so it's alright! glad he's comfortable ;u;

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"H-Hey, don't come so close! Somethin' about your scent makes my stomach feel weird!"

WE'RE ONLY ON AFFINITY 5 DUDE YOU CAN'T BE CATCHING FEELINGS THIS EARLY it's probably because he's scared of girls or something lol

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I didn't do anything wrong! Those guys were saying mean stuff about me 'cause they thought I couldn't hear. All I did was yell at them."

I hate how they won't even let Lyca defend himself verbally. . . .

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I don't mind classes. The teachers say cool stuff. Once I learn to read the textbooks and the notes and the blackboard it'll be perfect."

HE'S GONNA BE SUCH A GOOD STUDENT WHEN HE CAN READ???

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"There was this big noise in our practical class and my ears popped out. Everyone ran away screaming. Damn it..."

wow they're cowards if the ears alone scared them. . .how're they supposed to deal with anomalies if that scared them!?

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"This? It's a picture book, duh. How come you don't know that when you're a human? I study with it before bed, everyone does it."

I wonder who made him a picture book of all the things he'd be learning as a first year to study with. . . . . .or maybe it's just a generic picture book lol

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"This blanket's not trash, it's just dirty. I can't sleep without it, so hands off."

he really loves that blanket huh. it must be one of the only things he had from his childhood or from being looked after by neros. . . .

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"What's a "so-shul skill"? That blond gigolo was talking about them. He said I don't have any. Is that a good thing?"

he's got social skills!! Just. . .not very human social skills!!!

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I'm starving... I wanna eat Sho's food, but I can't order it without Suba... Wait, you can read, right?"

Lyca slowly realizing how many people he knows can actually read and thus can help him with placing orders for delicious foods--

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"That moth-eaten Casanova's in his room all day so I tried to take him for a walk, but he locked his door and ignored me. The hell?!"

LYCA CONTINUES TO SCRATCH AT ED'S DOOR COME FOR WALKIES ED!!!!

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"That stupid blond gigolo ran off with my blanket. I'm not done sleeping yet..."

tbf your blanket is filthy. . .and I get it, it's what you've got and it smells familiar but. . . .

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"I can't get back to sleep... I'm gonna wake up that moth-eaten Casanova for a walk."

lyca is a dog scratching at your bedroom door with his leash in his mouth like 'yes it is time for walkies now rise human'

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"The teacher asked us to name an anomalous plant you can eat but when I did he said humans can't eat it. So what? I can, so I'm not wrong."

I AGREE WITH HIM HE SHOULD NOT GET THAT MARKED WRONG. if you only want a human applicable question say 'humans' not 'you.

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"In the last place I never knew what time it was and I pretty much just slept all day. Now I gotta get used to having a "roo-teen.""

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I'm drawing. If I draw all the good stuff and bad stuff that happened every day I won't forget about it."

if he could write he'd keep a diary but since he can't write he's keeping a picture diary. . .and he's a really good artist according to his character story, so it's probably a pretty faithful recreation of whatever happened that day. i'd love to see his picture diary. . . .

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Huh? The blood on my bed? ...It's nothing. Don't touch my stuff, you're gonna get your smell all over it!"

WHY IS THERE BLOOD IN YOUR BED, BUDDY. ARE YOU OKAY??? IF YOU ATE SOMETHING IN BED THAT'S FINE I JUST DON'T WANT YOU TO BE INJURED. . . .

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"...Did you cry? Your scent is all squeezy. How come?"

smelling you sad makes him sad too so tell him why you're feeling sad and he can make the sad go away?

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I wanna go to the cafeteria, but the teachers won't give me my pocket money. They said I'll get "spoiled." The hell does that mean?!"

GIVE HIM SOME MONEY SO HE CAN BUY FOOD???? HE NEEDS TO EAT????? HE'S BUSY WITH CLASS SO HE CAN'T GO ON MISSIONS YOU CAN'T JUST STARVE THE BOY????

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"That moth-eaten Casanova told me humans like it if you ignore them sometimes. Something about playing hard to get? I'm gonna try it tomorrow."

I wonder if that has anything to do with Subaru's home screen chat where he wonders why Lyca hasn't messaged him back. . .he's trying to play hard to get because he thinks it'll make Subaru like him more. . . .

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I'll stay here and be quiet at night, even when the moon's not round. 'Cause you're tired, aren't you? Go sleep."

even if he doesn't have to stay or even if he wants to make lots of noise, he'll stay and be quiet so it's easier for you to fall asleep. He won't be loud and you don't have to worry about him! so sleep tight!

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Sleep here. Huh? Is there a law that says we can't sleep together? There's not, is there? Hurry up and lie down."

it's pretty much innocent. . .he just wants you close by. . .being able to smell you while he sleeps would probably make it easier to fall asleep. . .feel safe and familiar and everything. . . .

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"I'm gonna work hard... I'll gonna work so hard, they're gonna say I can live with humans forever..."

Lyca, despite being a werewolf, is a lot like Kaito in that he just wants to be a normal human. Except he never started as a normal human, so he has a bit further of a distance to go to become one. . .he's not a dog, he doesn't wanna be a pet or an animal or anything like that. He wants to be a person like everyone else. But it's hard when others reject him, and when everyone says they think he's too dangerous even when he hasn't done anything wrong. Other ghouls--other humans--do way worse stuff than he does, and yet he's still held to a higher standard. It's not fair. But he's working as hard as he can to catch up. . . .

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"That blond gigolo tried to wash my blanket! He's never coming in my room again!"

he does not like spring cleaning--

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Lately there's flower smells everywhere, but sometimes there's one that kinda smells like you."

IT'S GONNA BE HILARIOUS IF THE ANOMALY THAT CURSED YOU HAPPENS TO LIVE IN OBSCUARY'S FOREST. . .LIKE YEAH IT'S JUST OUT THERE IT WAS ALWAYS ON CAMPUS IDK WHAT TO TELL YOU WE COULD'VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS CURE BEFORE YOU GOT IT.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Harurin kept nagging, so I went to the safari park. Not gonna lie...it was super fun."

I love that Lyca uses the nicknames Rui uses for some people lol and I bet he loved running around Jabberwock!!! All that fresh open air and the wildlife. . .he's a wolf at heart really and truly.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Cherry blossom petals are super fun. They're like, whoosh, then they fall everywhere. I wish our house had some."

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"Urgh... My head...it hurts... This? It's shaved ice. The blond gigolo told me to eat it so I don't get "heat eggs-aw-schun.""

oh buddy you're eating it too fast. . . . . .

(between 11am and 4pm)

"I was just in that moth-eaten Casanova's room and it was so cold I thought it was gonna snow! Is he secretly a yeti?"

okay it was only 63 degrees in there it wasn't THAT cold Lyca.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"I'm gonna go practice swimming at Harurin's place. Can you do other stuff besides doggy paddle?"

I can't swim at all so. you are miles ahead of me my friend.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I know I said I always wanted to do sparklers, but... you sure this's okay? I thought we're not s'posed to play with fire!"

canid instincts are kicking in--fire BAD and SCARY and DANGEROUS. ABORT MISSION.

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"I just tried to join in with some guys playing with a ball, but they said I don't know the rules and told me to go away."

THEN TEACH HIM THE RULES god they're such jerks around here.

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Blond Gigolo was makin' this massive fire near the garden just now. It smelled all burnt and sweet... Is that some kinda ritual?"

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Finished my picture. That Romi guy who comes to the bar all the time said he wanted one, so it's for him."

Romeo does like fine things. This just goes to show how good of an artist Lyca is! I bet Romeo's gonna frame it and put it somewhere people can see lol or maybe just keep it in his room. . .that or he wants to see if he can get him to make a forgery and profit off poor Lyca--

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Moth-eaten Casanova said humans like looking at the moon... D'you get sad if you can't see it?"

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"I'm gonna go play at that big ice castle after class! Huh? 'Cause playing in the snow's fun."

THE FROSTHEIMERS BETTER NOT GIVE HIM TROUBLE LET MY BOY RUN AND ROMP IN THE SNOW!!!!!!!

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Mm, I don't really feel the cold. Humans get warm when they run around too, don't they? Race you over there! "

he is having so much fun in the winter ;;;;; just running around and playing. . . .

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"My fingers have been gettin' all tingly and stiff and my hair's all crunchy! What's up with that? "

maybe playing in the snow a little too much lol--

(between 8pm and 5am)

"How d'you drink hot drinks so quick? They always burn my tongue... Huh? Dogs have sensitive tongues? I'm a wolf, not a dog..."

His birthday: (April 19th)

"Oh right, it's my birthday. Neros told me my mom wrote down the date."

Your birthday:

"It's your birthday, right? No, I only know 'cause that blond gigolo was yelling about it. ...Here's your present."

I bet he drew something really nice or found you something really cool ;3;

New Years: (January 1st)

"Hope you have a happy and prop...props... prosp...prospinous? new year... Damn it, I practiced that for ages..."

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"Oh, thanks. Professor Nicolas said I can't eat chocolate, so I'll give it to Casanova and Gigolo!"

why would you even risk giving him chocolate in the first place lmao. . .also in Japanese he says "I'll share with those two idiots" instead of "casanova and gigolo" lmao

White Day: (March 14th)

"This is for you. I dunno what kinda stuff human girls like, but Suba helped me pick it, so it's prob'ly fine."

Subaru knows girls' tastes is Lyca's logic I guess lmao Subaru is a lil on the femme side comparatively--

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"Why's everyone being so mean today?! Telling lies and laughing at me... They're all jerks...!"

please explain the day to him. . .people are mean enough to him as it is. . . .

Halloween: (October 31st)

"My ears and tail are out? I know, I'm doing it on purpose. The moth-eaten Casanova said it's okay today."

THE ONE DAY HE CAN BE HIMSELF IS HALLOWEEN BECAUSE NO ONE WILL THINK ANYTHING OF IT. . .they'll just think it's a cool costume or maybe a fox robe! And he'll get candy for it!!!

Christmas: (December 25th)

"Hey, look! When I got up this present was next to my pillow! Santa really came..."

WHO TAUGHT HIM ABOUT SANTA. . .AND WHY. . .then again Romeo said Santa's reindeer is real so. . .it probably isn't actually harmful to teach him about Santa since Santa's probably somewhat real here. . . .

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"...I'm going for a walk."

(13 affinity and above)

"Hey, you alive? Huh, you're breathing so I guess so."

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"How come you stopped coming? Do you hate me? It made my heart all squeezy, so don't do it again."

oh no sweetie. . .sometimes we just have to take care of things and disappear without wanting to. . .sometimes life gets in the way instead of finding away. . . . . . . .

JUST. . .SWEETEST OF SWEETHEARTS. HE'S SO CHILDISH AND ADORABLE AND SWEET AND GOOD. . .I WILL USE MY TEN SECONDS OF PETTING TIME WISELY. He really does try harder than anyone, he's so determined and I believe in him so much. I want my boy to be happy.

#lyca colt #tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker spoilers #datamining cw #danie yells at tokyo debunker

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