#and then go home and be screamed at again!!! by my own 3 year old!!!!
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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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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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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.
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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, 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 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 that 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 that 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 were 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 about 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 it 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
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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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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 :(
Your Instagram Story Caption:
Double Trouble in Stralia 🇦🇺
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @formula1mount @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1#formula one#formula one fanfiction#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri one shot#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri f1#oscar piastri#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri fluff#op81 fluff#op81 imagine#op81 x reader#op81 fic#op81
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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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✧ 𝖎'𝖒 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖘 ✧
ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʀᴏᴄᴋꜱᴛᴀʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
☆⋆。🎧𖦹 °✩ 🎸⋆⸜♩
⭒ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 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
liam
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.
#male yandere#original yandere character#yandere#yandere boy#yandere imagines#yandere male#yandere scenarios#oc#oc art#tw yandere#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere x reader#yandere x y/n#x reader#gn reader#gender neutral y/n#gender neutral reader#gender neutral mc#obsession#yandere rockstar#rockstar#my artwork#my art lmao#my ocs#original character#my art#digital art#original work#yandere love
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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
#yuta okkotsu#yuta okkotsu x you#yuta okkotsu x reader#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen#yuta okkotsu x y/n#yuta jjk#jjk yuuta#yuuta smut#yuuta okkotsu#okkotsu yuuta#yuta x reader#yuuta x reader#yuta oneshot#okkotsu yuuta x reader#yuuta x y/n#yuuta x you#yuta okkotsu smut#jjk yuta#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu sorcerer#jjk x you
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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.
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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
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@faygo-frog
@sturniol0s
@katie-tibo
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@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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Realize You’re Living (Secret Admirer pt 5)
Steddie Week 2024, July 5: Reunion / exes to lovers or getting back together / Wasted Years by Iron Maiden
Sorry. Not for the delay in posting, I just think I'm gonna get yelled at for reasons.
wc: 2815 / rated: T / set between seasons 2 and 3 / also on ao3
There isn’t time to send Steve another letter before Friday.
There isn’t time, not through the mail, and there’s no way Eddie is risking physically putting something in the Harrington’s mailbox himself. That would mean running the risk of someone finding out, and that still ignites an old fear in the most primal part of his brain that screams at him to run. No matter who it is.
On the other hand, standing Steve up for their phone date is not an option. The very idea makes his insides freeze over. They’ve both had to reassure each other that they want to continue this epistolary romance, Jesus H. Christ—there’s been too much hot and cold already to pull something like that.
Eddie rolls over on his bed to lay face down and screams into his pillow. It's like they’re in a relationship, except Steve doesn’t even know who he is. It's absurd. An absolute clown town of his own making.
Okay. Okay, no, he can do this. (Can he?) All he has to do is relax and stay calm until tomorrow night. He’ll call at 10:30 on the dot and play Steve some Iron Maiden or something, maybe a little Dio, a smidge of Black Sabbath, throw in a dash of Judas Priest… Basically play the guy a mix tape, live.
He whips his head up and all but dives for his side table, looking for the tin where he keeps his weed. It’ll help him chill out enough to come up with a song list. And he needs all the chill he can get. He’s lost his mom to cancer, his dad to addiction and prison, and his childhood home with them—he refuses to lose Steve if he has even half a chance of actually having Steve. Because if this whole secret admirer thing is going where he hardly dares to hope it is, this could be the most important mix tape of his entire goddamn life.
Steve spends all of Friday so on edge that Robin starts threatening to drop banana peels in the circuit he keeps pacing behind the counter.
“What is with you today, dingus?”
He stops, tapping his foot restlessly and removing his hat so he can rake a hand through his hair. “Nothing, nothing, I… have an important call tonight, is all. I think.”
She raises an eyebrow at him. “Oooh, is it a pretty girl?” she teases.
“Maybe,” he mutters with a halfhearted shrug. He really still doesn’t know, and it doesn’t seem likely he’ll find out tonight. “I’m not even sure they’ll call. It’s… kind of a blind date sort of thing.”
“A blind phone date?” Robin looks like she doesn’t know what to do with that, which. Fair. “Is that a thing?”
Steve shrugs again. He goes back to pacing. “It might be. I’ll find out tonight I guess.”
She gives him a minute before butting in again, spraying more Windex on the display case to get the lunch rush’s grubby child fingerprints off the cool glass. “...Is this because of the board?”
Again, Steve stops. “What?”
“The You Rule / You Suck board. Have I accidentally degraded your confidence in yourself so much that you’ve turned to blind dates as an alternative to trying to seduce any and every girl who walks in here?”
Her tone is flippant, but because they’ve been on better terms recently—especially since Steve started offering her rides (and let her take control of the tape deck after that time she threatened to throw all of his Wham! tapes out the window)—he decides to take it as a genuine question.
“No. Well—No, it’s more the hat than that. It messes up my best feature, you know?” He runs a hand through his hair again, fluffing it up more, then slumps against the back counter next to the milkshake blenders with a sigh. “It’s kind of a pen pal thing. We’ve been talking for a while but we haven’t met, but… I think it might be going somewhere good.”
Robin stops her bored polishing of the display case, only half of the afternoon rush’s smudges and fingerprints wiped away, to laugh with a slight shake of her head. “Oh wow, King Steve is a romantic. Who knew?”
“Not me before junior year, that’s for sure,” he scoffs honestly.
She studies him thoughtfully for a moment. “Makes sense. Kind of lines up with something I heard the other day, when—”
But then they’re interrupted by a couple strolling in for some ice cream. Robin rushes through cleaning the rest of the glass so as to get out of their way, and Steve scoops and rings them up while she moves on to wiping down tables, conversation forgotten.
Eddie’s finished his playlist and his plan is to call early. Not too early, just… a minute, five minutes tops. His uncle leaves for work before 10, so he has plenty of time and he’s buzzing with nervous energy.
Way too much nervous energy to carry into the Big Call tonight.
By the time Wayne is out the door, Eddie’s already started on rolling a joint and rereading Steve’s letters from start to current. If he’d been smart he would’ve written out copies of his own for a more complete read, that in depth analysis his English teachers never shut up about… but alas.
Usually his memory is pretty good, especially when it comes to his own work. He also hadn’t expected this to go on as long as it had; not really. But now he can hardly imagine what it would be like to know Steve only from a distance anymore and that… colors things. Fuck only knows what he’s remembering wrong because of a simple difference in perspective.
Because Steve has let him in, Eddie acknowledges as he lines the weed up on the paper. He’s written things about his home life, about his old friends, and definitely about his injuries over the past couple years (though oddly enough never much about what actually caused them) that Eddie would bet good money that no one else knows, if only because Steve doesn’t seem to have anyone else to tell. Maybe those kids he babysits (begrudgingly but genuinely dotes on, Eddie’s seen it from a distance). But really, how much can you realistically talk to a thirteen year old? Eddie remembers being thirteen; he hadn’t listened to anyone for shit. It was a miracle Wayne hadn’t just released him into the woods like a wild animal.
And all Eddie’s been doing is pulling Steve close, while steadfastly keeping him out. God.
He licks the joint to seal it, lights up, and keeps rereading.
Steve is standing by the phone in his kitchen watching the second hand on the clock. How it sneaks around the clock face, slow but steady, until it laps the 12 line and it’s 10:31.
He slumps back against the kitchen island with a groan. That had been an absolutely excruciating minute, and he’s staring down the barrel of another fifty-nine more until he can reasonably give up hope. Because anything under an hour is just running late, right? Something could have come up, something unavoidable like… family coming home unexpectedly, making a private conversation impossible.
… Okay, maybe that was a stress dream he’d had last night about his parents, but something like it could happen to anyone.
10:32. The second hand barely makes it past fifteen this time before the silence is split by the shriek of ringing in the otherwise silent house. Steve multitasks, jumping out of his skin and lunging to answer the phone at the same time.
“HelloHarringtonresidence, thisisStevehowcanIhelpyou?” he rushes out.
There’s no response except breathing on the other end of the line, which would be creepy if it weren’t exactly what he was hoping for.
(Eddie is pressing a hand over his mouth, keeping in an equal parts amused and disbelieving laugh at how Steve had answered the phone, all flustered and cute and overly formal in an automatic sort of way that suggests an ingrained habit. From what he knows about Steve’s parents, he’s not terribly surprised, but it’s still such a delightfully dorky greeting.
And it seems like Steve really was waiting by the phone for his call, which makes Eddie want to fucking dance.)
“Is that you?” After a second, a light bulb goes off in Steve’s head and he adds, “Oh. Uh, tap once for yes, twice for no?”
It takes a few seconds, but then he hears a single tap against the plastic of the other receiver.
(Smart, Eddie would tell him if he could. If he dared. He sucks hard on the last of his joint before letting the smoke billow from his nose like a dragon and putting it out in the ashtray by his bed. Maybe he mashes it in a little harder than necessary, blaming it for being late even though that’s really just another one of his bad habits at this point.)
Relief breaks over Steve like a wave. “Oh my god, it’s you. You’re the, um, my secret admirer?”
Tap.
(Yeah sweetheart, it’s me.)
Steve does a little bounce on the balls of his feet and pumps his fist, too giddy to feel stupid about it with no one watching. “Holy shit. I mean, t-thanks for calling. Sorry, my parents make me answer the phone like that.”
Nothing.
(Eddie is smiling. Beaming, really. I figured, he imagines saying. At first it makes his heart feel full just thinking about it, but then has to stop that line of thought before his anxiety conjures up all the ways Steve Harrington, until recently Hawkins High’s resident ladies man, might react to the surprise of being on a phone date with a guy. Jesus, how is he high and still so nervous?)
“Right, you can’t answer. I mean, you can, if you want, but you don’t have to. This is, this is to see how I like your music.” Steve rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Did you want to play something for me now, or…”
Tap.
(All the tapes are on standby, spread out in chaotic order around the second-hand player he got last year after Wayne’s old one crapped out on him. Eddie cranks up the volume as high as it’ll go; he’s used to it, the neighbors are resigned to it, and Steve won’t be able to hear it well enough to count through the phone otherwise.)
The first song starts, and Steve twists the phone cord between his fingers as he stands in his kitchen and listens. There’s a heavy beat and a noticeable bass line, even over the phone, nothing like the pop rock he usually listens to. But…
“… I definitely didn’t hate it,” he says once the last notes fade out.
(Eddie is vibrating as he hits pause and ejects the tape, elated, a few of his worries already soothed. Steve doesn’t hate metal. That doesn’t necessarily mean Steve will like him, but it’s got to make the odds at least a little better, right? He wants to say fuck yeah or I love you or, fucking… shriek wordlessly or something, but presses his hand over his cotton-dry mouth instead, hard enough that his gums ache a little.)
“It kind of reminded me of AC/DC? Like Back in Black, or Hells Bells.”
(They’re not one of Eddie’s favorites, didn’t even make the playlist. But they’re harder rock than he expected Steve to be familiar with, and suddenly he has a wild urge to know what the guy thinks of You Shook Me All Night Long.)
“One time, the radio played Big Balls in the car and my mom literally clutched her pearls and said, ‘I don’t think he’s talking about ballroom dancing, Richard!’”
(Eddie grins as the funny little falsetto Steve put on for the impression fades into a rich laugh, like he’s so tickled by the memory that he can’t help it. There was probably some appalled, classic white-anglo-saxon-protestant-sucking-on-a-lemon expression on her face that he’s picturing, while Eddie can only imagine. It’s okay, Eddie is too busy wanting to pour Steve’s laugh into a bathtub and soak in it.)
Tap.
“Yeah, really not,” Steve agrees, his cheeks almost aching from smiling so wide. He feels lighter than air just knowing he’s on the phone with the person who’s been writing to him the past couple months, knowing he’s proving that they’re genuinely at least a little bit compatible. “So, what’s the next song?”
It goes on like that. Steve doesn’t know the artists or albums or track titles, but figures that Secret Admirer will fill him in with the next letter. There are a couple of songs that are more shouting than singing for his taste—“I like songs I can sing along to once I know the words, you know? Really belt out in the car after a long day, or something,” he explains, and gets a yes tap in response.
(Eddie has to improvise. Instead of another WASP song, he reaches for an Iron Maiden tape he’d put aside as a half-assed backup and scours the track list, trying to decide… Ah, that one. He pops it in and turns the volume down for a second so he can check that he’s fast forwarding to the right spot on the tape.
This one’s for you, sweetheart, he thinks, lighting a second joint—not for nerves this time, but just for fun. He leans back and lets the smoke fill his lungs, fill his mind, send him floating off to whatever time of that big house Steve is curled up in so he can spiritually throw an arm around the other guy’s shoulders.)
Steve likes the instrumentals in the intro of this one. He doesn’t really track the words at first once they start—usually doesn’t, on a first listen-through, with so much new to take in. But he starts catching on to the shape of them by the first of what turns out to be the chorus.
So understand Don't waste your time always searching for those wasted years Face up, make your stand Realize you're living in the golden years
Too much time on my hands, I got you on my mind Can't ease this pain so easily When you can't find the words to say, hard to make it through another day And it makes me wanna cry, throw my hands up to the sky
So understand Don't waste your time always searching for those wasted years Face up, make your stand Realize you're living in the golden years, hey!
He listens, slowly untangling himself from the long phone cord and taking a seat on one of the stools at the kitchen island. When the song finally fades out and he hears the far-off click of the tape being stopped and taken out, he asks hopefully, “It’s about seizing the day, right?”
Maybe they’re building up to telling him who they are, or at least giving him a little more.
(Eddie freezes, not expecting Steve—who had told him he didn’t get things on the first try—to venture any insights. Especially on a song that hadn’t been on his list, a last minute change-up that he’d picked with the transformation from King Steve to just normal guy Steve in mind and how Steve seems so hung up on apologizing for the douchebag he used to be.
Or at least, used to be on the outside. Every day, Eddie gets a little less sure that persona went much further than skin-deep.
A tiny sound curls out of Eddie’s throat, a barely audible, inquisitive hum. Something that says please, keep going. He knows Steve has heard it because of the quick intake of breath over the line.)
Steve clutches the handset so hard that his knuckles go white. It’s the first sound, the first crumb that Secret Admirer has given him that’s really them, not a tap on plastic or other people’s music. Too quiet to make out any distinguishing features, but it’s something.
It feels like everything.
“You could, you know,” Steve says softly. “You could… make a stand? If you told me who you are, or just anything more about you, I… I really like you. I know for sure that I want to know you. Maybe that makes me a romantic sap, but it’s true. What if we find out we could have our golden years right now?”
(Eddie is freaking out. The mellow of his high isn’t helping anymore, all the floaty syrupy hopefulness of it stripped away. Oh fuck oh balls oh shit, shit, shit!
He’s hyperventilating, knows Steve can probably hear it, and he’s nothing but a goddamn coward in the end.
He can't do this.)
There’s a single clunk, and then all Steve hears is dial tone.
Tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @steviewashere
@cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve @rozzieroos @lunaraindrop
@just-my-latest-hyperfixation @wheneverfeasible @swimmingbirdrunningrock @yesdangerpls @matchingbatbites
@ihavekidneys @p0lybl4nkk @grtwdsmwhr @cheesedoctor @whalesharksart
@thetinymm @envyadams-vs-me @practicallybegging @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @dauntlessdiva
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@dolphincliffs
#steddieweek2024#scoops words#secret admirer steddie#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#robin buckley#platonic stobin
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Heyy! Since you’re taking requests, can I request a tsukishima who gets baby fever after seeing reader take care/baby sit Yamaguchi’s child, idk it sounds so sweeeeet in my head😭😭🩷 no rush though, take care!
okay, this ask is like a year old. i'm SO sorry about that. i hope you enjoy, regardless. soft kei is best kei. thank you for the wonderful request <3
wc: 1365
~~~~~~~~~~~~
opening your eyes, you see that your car has finally made it to your destination. you and your husband of about a year are visiting a good friend of both of you, yamaguchi tadashi, at his home. speaking of your husband, you turn to see him looking at you expectantly, waiting to open his door until you're fully awake.
tsukishima kei, the man of your dreams and the love of your life. the two of you had met in university and hit it off relatively quickly. he was studying history and archaeology because he had a thing for dinosaurs (he very much still has a thing for dinosaurs), and you thought he was adorable despite his initial demeanor. the serious, jerkish persona was the most evident part of him, though after you got to know him you discovered many other facets to his personality that had you falling in love. you dated for a few years, and finally married last summer at a destination wedding attended by just your parents and chosen friends.
since then, you guys have been extremely busy finalizing information with your marriage, house, and your job. kei already had his job at the sekai city museum lined up directly out of college, but you weren't as lucky. after months of job searching and apartment hunting, everything has worked out. now you have the time to see your friends on a more regular basis again.
"ready?" he asks you. you only smile and nod at him before you open your door. walking up the steps to tadashi's front door, you aren't surprised when you knock and find the door is unlocked.
"come in guys!" you hear his friendly voice from another room, further in the house.
unfortunately, yachi is working. otherwise, your close friend would have without a doubt been waiting at the door for the two of you. she had already apologized profusely to you, via both texts and calls. you promised her you understood, not that you would ever be upset with her anyways.
kicking your outdoor shoes off and replacing them with slippers, kei takes your light jacket off of your shoulders and hangs it for you. your eyes are drawn to your beautiful husband (he 'hates' when you call him that), his face solemn though you know he's excited to see his best friend again. finally, the two of you make your way towards the direction of tadashi's voice.
"long time no see!" tadashi jokes, and you smile brightly.
"it's so nice to see you tadashi" you kindly smile. in his arms sits a little baby. "who's this little angel?" you ask. you've seen pictures of the little boy, both on social media and from tadashi and hitoka themselves. he's only a few months old, but he's grown very fast. you want to scream from how cute he looks when he randomly pops up on your feed.
"this is my son, haru", he replies. at the sound of his own name, haru opens his eyes to gaze up at his dad.
"he's so cute!" you compliment, "can i hold him?". your arms already extended before he answers, and you don't miss kei's playful scoff at your eagerness.
"excited much?" he snarks. you jokingly roll your eyes at him before you again gesture to yamaguchi.
"of course! and again, hitoka's really upset she couldn't be here. yajakudo always needs her at the most random times" he apologized. he carefully hands the baby over to you, and you make sure his head is supported. he's looking up at you with the most incredulous, wide eyes that remind you of his mother.
"it's no problem at all, that girl worries too much. now go away! have some well-deserved catchup time. haru's safe with me."
again, hearing his name makes haru look up at you and smile, two little teeth poking out already. you can't stop yourself from the audible 'aww' that comes out, coaxing him to smile even bigger.
you sit yourself down with the child on the sofa and leave the guys to talk in the attached kitchen. it's close enough for them to still see you (not that tadashi doesn't trust you, it's just his dad instincts. and kei just likes looking at you), but far enough where you can't hear them in case they discuss something more private.
your heart swells at the adorable baby's sweet (mostly) gummy smile. you can't keep the grin off your face, babbling incoherent nonsense that makes haru laugh. it's the perfect positive feedback loop of happiness. you and kei haven't really talked much about children yet, since the two of you had really only just gotten settled into your lives together. you knew you wanted them eventually, though. haru seemed to be trying to push that to sooner rather than later.
from the other room, kei is trying his best to keep himself composed. he can barely focus on whatever tadashi is telling him about, eyes instead trained on you. his beautiful wife (you love when he calls you that), looking like a natural is almost too much. he hadn't considered the two of you having children just yet, (you'd only just found an apartment after all), though seeing you right now had him rethinking everything.
"you want one?" tadashi chuckles. he'd been caught.
kei lets out a signature, unconscious 'tch', but his best friend can see right through him. finally, he tears his eyes away from you to look at his friend. he certainly doesn't catch himself looking over at you every once in a while after that.
you only get up once haru has been asleep in your arms for a few minutes. carefully handing him back to tadashi, you quietly thank him and promise to visit again soon. he bids the both of you goodbye, offering kei a wink and goofy gesture. your husband rolls his eyes at this, heading over to the car where you're already waiting.
once you're both in, he doesn't start the car. very unusual for him, since tsukishima kei typically loves getting away from social events as quickly as possible. you turn to face him, trying to gauge if something's wrong. you're sure he can feel your eyes on him, even if he's blind as a bat.
he doesn't look at you, and doesn't even break from his usual monotone:
"let's have a baby"
"WHAT?"
you're suddenly woken up in the middle of the night to loud wails coming from another room.
somewhat reluctantly, you push up onto your elbows before stepping out of bed and onto the cold hardwood floor. a chill goes up your spine from the contact, but you can still hear the shrill noise from across the hall, so you put your slippers on and make your way towards the source of the noise (neglecting to notice the other half of your bed is already empty).
the light yellow room would be almost entirely dark, if not for the bright full moon shining through the window (and the moon nightlight, too). it is now peacefully quiet, with the noise of a small fan in the corner being the only sound you can register at first.
unsurprisingly, your husband is already there, holding your baby girl close to him. kei always seems to beat you to your daughter's room. he's whispering something you can't quite hear to her. even though she's mere months old and doesn't understand the meaning behind his words, she always loves to hear his voice (something the two of you have in common). her eyes beginning to close again, your heart melts at this little life the two of you have created.
looking up to kei's face, his eyes are bright despite being woken up at 2am. your husband has never been one to broadcast his positive emotions, but you know inside he's happy. your arm finds its way around his back, and his eyes switch down to you.
"was it worth it?" you ask him lightheartedly, whispering.
kei looks out the window, at the endless expanse of sky. he's held down by the warmth of his daughter and wife, his two favorite girls in the entire world. he doesn't know how he got so lucky, but in this moment there's nowhere and no one else he'd rather be.
his mouth turns upward, genuine and true.
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In another life pt 2
Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader
Summary: A visit to Nanami and trip down memory lane
Warnings: Language and suggestive themes but only a bit lol
Part 3
****************************************************
A/N: was so overwhelmed by the amount of love I received for part one!! Thank you all so much for the support😭🩵
“This is definitely a first” Nanamis gaze travelled up and down your body.
You shuffled uncomfortably from your place on the couch. Gojo stood leaning on the wall behind you.
“Yeah I’ve been hearing that a lot today..” you sighed.
“Hmm, well from what I know. This curse has been known to travel through dimensions, which is why he’s been so hard to catch in the past. He disappeared several years ago after somehow escaping from a seal. Looks like he ended up in your universe.”
“That makes sense, it was only a couple years ago he appeared and Satoru subdued him. A couple months ago he told me he found some weird residual energy on the seal but otherwise everything was ok… I guess the theory of the spy was correct but…” you brought a hand to your chin.
“Go on” he encouraged.
“We placed three seals on them. There’s no way an amateur broke through them… I wonder if he has any clue on who it could be...”
BZZT BZZT BZZT
“Another call?” Gojo tilted his head forward.
You picked up the phone and read “Weird Bangs” well speak of the devil!
“Nope just a text.”
-Hey you ok? Satoru just told me what happened. Don’t worry, we’re investigating as we speak. We’ll have you home in no time.
You smiled warmly and replied,
-Thanks Sugu, I have complete faith in you two. And don’t worry I’m ok.
“Anything important?”
“Not really, Sugu was just checking in. By the way, is he on a mission or something? I haven’t sensed your version of him yet. Unless you don’t have a version of him which would be honestly so weird since I swear you two are like your own couple..”
Little did you know the room had gone from warm to freezing cold.
“What did you just say…”
“Huh?” You tensed seeing the mood was a bit off now.
“Wait…don’t tell me he’s…dead?” Instant dread washed over you.
“No..he’s very much alive…” (excuse me while I change the timeline a little)
“Then what’s-“ you tilted your head.
“Nanami, what can you tell us about the curse transporting other people?”
You blinked at his sudden change in topic.
“Honestly nothing.” Your shoulders slumped.
“Really?”
“Yes but I promise I’ll do everything in my power to ensure you get home safely”.
“Thanks Nanami…” you tried not to feel to sad, after all you had so many people working hard to figure it out.
“Well it’s getting late, why don’t we continue this tommorow, Nanami you’ll reach out if you find anything yeah?”
He nodded, “I’ll dig into some of the old archives, and let you know what I find.”
“Thank you Nanami” you smiled and followed gojo out of the room.
“So what now?” The sun had set and you realized that for the first time in years you were not going to sleep in your own bed, cuddled next to your husband.
“Well… I could take you to one of the spare dorms here but considering the curse is still out there I think it’s best if you stick with me”
“So back to your place?” Haha that takes you back.
“That ok with you?”
“Mhmm” not like I’m used to anything else but being with you…
“Ok then, hang on” he touched your shoulder and suddenly you were transported to a place that smelled like fresh linen and his cologne.
“Oh wow this takes me back” you flicked on the light and took in the old place.
Gojo raised a brow that you seemed to know your way around.
“I take it you’ve been here before?”
You nodded fondly while taking in the place once again, “yeah, we spent so much time here back while we were dating…I lived in a really crappy apartment that you had to bend down in.” You laugh at the memory.
You turn to look out the floorlength window and promptly scream.
“AHH is that me!?!? Have I looked like this all day!?!” You could barely see your skin it was covered in dirt and grime from the previous fight and your hair was basically inviting birds to make it their home.
“I need to shower…” ah crap I didn’t think to stop and get clothes.
“I’ll find you some clothes… the shower is over the-“ but you were already beelining towards the bathroom eagerly to wash the filth off of you.
“Right you already know… so weird” he crossed his arms.
The second the steaming water hit your body you sighed in relief. It took a good 15 minutes for the water to run clear.
Using his body wash sure took you back to the days you’d sleep over. Those days were some of the best of your life. Watching movies late into the night, eating junk food, making out, falling asleep tangled together…
You shut your eyes before the tears could come.
No, none of that, you had the best and strongest people on the case. You’d be home soon, so let’s think of this as a weird mini vacation.
After your shower you dried yourself off and peeked into the bedroom where the door connected to. Sure enough you found a set of his pjs on the bed.
His shirt engulfed you, looking more like a dress. You thought for a moment to forgo the pants but realized you probably shouldn’t go pantless and underwearless around new Gojo.
Once you were decent you stepped outside into the main living space.
A delicious aroma immediately invaded your senses.
Wait… no fricken way!?
“You cook!?!?”
“Huh?” Gojo paused to look back over his shoulder. “Of course I cook… does your Gojo not?”
“He- he tried once but burnt everything… and anyway I’m home way more so I usually do the cooking..”
“Well I hope you like seafood, I haven’t gone shopping yet so there wasn’t really many options.”
He turned back to the stove to continue stirring.
You sat on one of the counter barstools and watched him in awe.
He even has the towel thrown over his shoulder and everything...
“So tell me about other Gojo. How did you guys meet?”
“Well… actually it’s kind of embarrassing…”
“Oh well now I have to know”
“Well I was jogging by this old elementary school and this curse popped out. It was so cute tho it looked like a super fluffy puppy. And then suddenly you popped in, ready to blast it to smithereens when I jumped in front and defended it….” He paused his stirring and looked over at you again.
“Yeah I know.. it was crazy but the curse really wasn’t that bad. So anyway I picked it up and started running away from you…”
“Pfft seriously?”
“Yeah… you should’ve seen your face haha. I made it about 10 steps before you warped in front of me”
*Flashback*
“Uh listen lady, that thing your holding is very dangerous so it’s best if you-“
“No way!”
“Huh?”
“No way, he’s just a little baby, he hasn’t hurt anyone!” You hugged the curse tight to your body and for some reason the curse seemed… relaxed?
“Lady… it’s a curse.. we can’t exactly just leave it to roam free..”
“Well then….”you thought for a moment..
“I’ll keep it!”
“You’ll keep it…” he repeated to himself in disbelief
“Mhm hm” you nodded.
“Uh…” he watched you snuggle the curse closer and the curse for whatever bizarre reason seemed content.
“It hasn’t hurt anyone has it?”
“Not that I’m aware of..”
“Then it’s settled! I’m keeping him.”
“Uh…”
“Don’t worry, I have some skill in exorcizing curses if anything goes wrong but it won’t will it little cutie?” You rubbed under its chin and it started to purr.
“Ok so you’re serious…uh well here’s my number… in case he decides to turn murdery and you can’t handle him”
You smile and hand him your phone, when he hands it back you glance down and let out a little gasp.
He smirked, you must’ve realized who he was now.
“You have the same screensaver as me! I love that show!!”
Oh
“Haha well it is a good show, even if the heroine sucks.”
“What- what did you just say?! She’s the best one!”
“No way, if you ask me the best friend should be in the spotlight.”
“That snobby bitch? No way” you made a face.
“Snobby? I see it as confidence.”
“You must’ve gotten knocked in the head too many times by a curse..”
“Well it doesn’t really matter, I think she’s gonna take that job in the next episode.”
“Wait you think so? As much as I hate her, she makes the story interesting.”
“Yeah I-“ BZZZT BZZZT BZZZT
“Ah sorry hold on”
You watched him turn and take the call. Looking at him now, even without seeing his eyes you could tell he was good looking.
“Sorry, duty calls. Make sure to call me if…that thing suddenly decides to eat you ok?”
“I will, thanks”
He whooshed away and you looked down at your phone.
Satoru Gojo….
Oh my god
No fucking way…
He had the same name as your favorite book character! What a small world…
“Alright cutie, let’s get you home. I wonder what you eat?”
*End flashback*
“Don’t tell me you still have that thing?”
“That thing has a name and his name is cutie. And to this day he hasn’t hurt a fly! Well actually that’s a lie because he does eat all the bugs around the house.. but other than that he’s harmless. He does chew the furniture though..” awe I hope he’s ok..
“You’re a little strange you know that?”
“You’re one to talk..”
“Hey, you shouldn’t insult the hand that feeds you.”
“You’re right sorry chef” you bowed jokingly then went to grab plates to set the table.
“Oh I hope you don’t mind me touching stuff.” You retracted your hand afraid he might get upset.
“Be my guest.” He waved nonchalantly.
Ten minutes later you were sat across each other.
“Oh lemme grab some drinks” he stood up and disappeared into the kitchen again.
You nodded and began plating your dish and his. His having three times the portion like usual.
Gojo came back and sat down with his mouth slightly open.
You realized your mistake and felt heat rise to your cheeks. “S-sorry it- I did that out of habit. Didn’t mean to make you feel weird..”
“It’s fine it’ll just take some getting used to is all…” he smirked and dug in.
“Thank you for the meal.” You twirled your fork around the shrimp and pasta and took a bite.
Oh
Oh
Oh hell no
“Something wrong?”
“Satoru this is amazing… like really really amazing”
“Glad you like it”
“No but seriously this is so good…Why can’t my version do this??”
You took another bite and swooned, maybe you’d leave your version for this one…
BZZT BZZT BZZT
“Oh it’s you! Well other you..”
“Satoru?”
“Hey babe you doing alright?”
“Yeah, I’m alright… we met with Nanami earlier, he said he’s going to do some more research and let us know if he finds anything..”
“Same here, Suguru and I are tracking the curse down but it’ll take a little bit of time, he’s a slippery one that’s for sure”
“Mm, sorry for putting everyone through this trouble…”
“Don’t worry, I have plenty of ways you can make it up to me later”
“Ah geez I need to stop putting you on speaker..”
“You’re not alone? It’s pretty late..”
“Yeah well other you thought it would be best to keep me close for safety reasons. I’m here at the old penthouse actually.”
“….”
“Toru?”
“You’re with other me?”
You blinked. “Uh yes?“
“Hey other me!”
You tilt the phone closer to this Gojo so he can hear better.
“Uh yes?”
“I know it’s tempting but no canoodling my girl alright?”
“S-satoru!”
“Not even a little touch, I mean it.”
“Satoru what are you talking about?! I just met the guy!”
“And? Do you remember how I was back then?”
“Well...” yeah a manwhore..
“Oh yeah and another word of advice, no girls over to the place. She gets suuuuuuper jealous, one time she even told our pet to attack and-“
“I did not! That was-!-you know that was an accident!”
“Mhmm sure”
“You know cutie feeds off my feelings, I didn’t tell him to bite her arm!”
“Of course sweetheart of course..”
“You- what about that time you hijacked my date!”
“That was purely coincidental, I was in the area.”
“Sure you were…”
“Anywhoooooo, did you take your meds?”
“Y-yeah”
“Liar”
“Hey make sure she gets those pills, she’ll faint without them and I don’t need her falling into anyone else’s arms”
“S-satoru good night already, I’ll talk to you later…”
“Alright sorry, you know I worry. Night baby, don’t feel too lonely without me”
*click*
“Ugh annoying jerk” you words didn’t match your soft tone.
Gojo leaned back in his chair and scanned your form.
Did he? Did a version of him really fall in love and settle down. You were certainly beautiful but he’d been with a lot of beautiful women.. did your strength draw his attention? He supposed he hasn’t seen you fight yet, maybe he would fix that soon..
“Oh uh sorry you had to hear all that again, I hope it’s not too weird”
“Well I’m not gonna lie and say it’s normal but..”
You smiled and brought another forkful to your mouth.
“Thank you for everything, really… you don’t even know me and you’re doing all this..”
“Well hey don’t worry about it, any alter ego/universe me’s wife is a friend of mine”
“Heh thanks” glad to know all Gojos humor are the same across universes.
After dinner you helped clean up and were lounging on the couch while Gojo went to shower.
He wouldn’t mind if you turned on the tv right?
So far this Gojo was 99.8 percent a carbon copy of yours so no he wouldn’t mind.. plus tonight the new episode of “Wishing I was yours” was airing and you couldn’t miss it..
And that’s how Gojo found you 20 minutes later, arms wrapped around your knees cuddling a pillow, tearful eyes glued to the TV screen.
‘No! No you can’t leave me. You can’t give up after everything we’ve been through’
‘Forgive me my love, you’ll have to continue this journey without me…’
‘No! I need you!!’
‘I’m only going to put you in danger… it has to be this way… I’m sorry’
‘Noooooooooooooooo!’
How can she watch this crap…
Gojo made his presence known and stepped in front of the couch.
“Oh hey, I-i hope it was ok that I- ah no don’t go!!” Your focus was quickly redirected back to the gripping scene. You groaned when the credits rolled.
“Dammit you were right about the ending…now I have to do that thing… ugh” you mumbled into the pillow.
Gojo couldn’t help but be curious what that thing was but stayed quiet.
“Don’t tell me that I actually watch this kind of stuff?”
He sat on the other end of the couch watching as you paused the tv and turned towards him.
“Well not at first but we worked out a deal, every week we watch one of my picks and one of your picks… but ugh you always choose the scariest stuff…”
“Better than unrealistic lovey dovey crap…”
“Unrealistic?? Says the one who spouts the most corniest lines 24/7”
The title screen for another episode started playing and he swiftly grabbed the remote.
“Allow me to show you what true cinema is.”
Uh oh, you had a bad feeling about this..
1 hour later
“Ah no way no way no way” Gojo smirked watching how you hid behind a pillow shaking like a leaf.
“Oh come on, it’s not even the scary part yet…”
“Liar! Ew ew ew I accidentally looked again”
“Human snake vs Octogator is a masterpiece , you’re insulting one of the greatest films of all time!”
“You just chose this because you knew it would scare me!”
“Lady I barely know you, is that something I would do?” He smiled, glowing eyes peeking behind his glasses.
“Yes, that is exactly what you would do..”
Well you sure did seem to know him he was realizing more and more…
After the movie you were basically half asleep so Gojo decided to call it a night.
Sleepily you rose up and followed after Gojo to the hallway. But instead of turning right to the guest room you automatically turned left to his room and bumped into his back.
“Huh”
You froze, eyes shooting up to his.
“A-ah s-sorry!” Embarrassed you darted to the guest room and shut the door.
BZZT BZZT BZZT
Hm?
*NEW MESSAGE*
-Since you’re all alone, use this to tide your appetite over xoxo
*image loading*
“Ah-!”
The heat rose to your cheeks immediately.
(I’ll let you imagine what kind of picture he sent lol)
-Don’t send anything back tho ok? Don’t want the creep next door spying on you and catching a glimpse of my pretty girl~”
-he’s in another room obviously..
-wait he wouldn’t look through the walls with his eyes would he??
-would- did you ever do that??
-ah gotta go baby, the line is bad, nighty night!
-We’re texting idiot, what line?! And answer the question!!
-xoxo 💋
Ugh jerk… you threw the phone on the bed then slowly got in the unfamiliar bed.
You hated sleeping alone… even when he was out on overnight missions you were surrounded by his scent, his clothes, his everything…
You grabbed a pillow and snuggled it for comfort.
“I miss you idiot…”
Part 3
***************************************************
Aaaaaaand that’s chapter 2! What did you guys think about Suguru’s mention hehe. The angst boat is coming y’all, but first came a little fluff before the storm. Please lemme know what you thought! Until next time!
@gojosatorulover7 @goaway-plzz @goldenglow149 @taakt17 @kneesheee @yumii-34 @ritsatoru @generalstephkenobi @author20 @bitchycloudstrawberry @hojoslutoru
#gojo x reader#satoru gojo#fluff#angst#gojo#satoru gojou x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#gojo imagine#gojo fic#gojo x wife reader#wife reader#marriage#satoru gojo x reader#gojou x reader#time travel#jjk x reader#megumi fushiguro#yuji itadori#gojo smut#smut#injury#satoru gojo imagine#gojo satoru x reader#suguru geto#jujutsu kaisen x reader#satoru gojo x wife reader#funny
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Tim going absolutely feral in his attempts to get Mockingjay away from Hood.
Sure, all of the Bats want to rescue the kid, but they don't really get the danger the kid is in, they are still under the impression Hood cares about keeping the kid safe.
But Tim SAW what Hood is like at the Titans Tower, okay? Hood is freaking insane. Doesn't matter if he cares about the kid or not, he's going to end up hurting, maybe killing, the boy in one of his 'episodes'.
And Tim will do anything to get the kid to come away, to understand what Hood is doing.
He's not going to bother with kid gloves. He's fully willing to scar the kid for life if it means the kid will at least get to live, which he's convinced won't happen if he's left at Hood's mercy.
Tim to Mockingjay on a rooftop: Hi! How's the gang war your boss started coming along? Last one was so exciting. I watched my friend - not a vigilante friend, mind you, just this civilian kid - bleed out when one of the gangs decided to shoot up my school. About two dozen civilians died in the first couple of days. Wanna bet how many you and Hood will bag this time? Have fun!
Tim, tossing Mockingjay crime scene photos of a gang shooting, showing a headshot corpse : Hi! Thought you might like a keepsake! This is Danny, he was eighteen. Dad died, three kids at home, couldn't get any job that paid enough except with these guys. I hear his sister signed up with Penguin's pimps after she got the news. Someone's still gotta feed the kids, right? Have a good lunch!
Tim, waving to Mockingjay: Hi! Sorry I'm late! Had to stay with a kid who found his mom OD'd. You should really ask your boss to show you what an OD death looks like - you'll probably find it pretty cool, all a nice blue shade, with this bloody foam spilling from the mouth, maybe twisted up a bit if they had convulsions first. The kid was crying about how he's gonna get the bastards who sold the stuff, but of course, you and Hood have pretty nice security, right?
Tim waging absolutely ruthless psychological warfare.
Ooo yes Tim would definitely try to pull something like that. What he wouldn’t expect is Mockingjay to give as good as he gets.
After the first few times you can bet Bruce is Fed Up™️ and devises his own little counter attack.
The next time he greets Robin with a merry little “Hey Rob, guess what? Frank just got out of jail again! You know, the guy you locked up in Black Gate for killing his girlfriend? Guess what! He went back to murder her sister, too! Had her spread out all over the apartment with a kitchen knife. Have a nice patrol <3”
Mockingjay, crashing a bust: “Sorry we’re late to the party! Had to take out a pedophile you guys locked up last month but was set free on parole. Guess what? He had two new victims locked up in his basement!”
Mockingjay, cupping his ear: “Sorry, what was that? I can’t hear you over the sound of a two year old screaming because he just saw his dad get murdered in front of him. Because you guys ‘Didn’t have enough evidence’ to get the guy who threatened him convicted. Should we tell Social Services to bill you the lifelong therapy bill or…?”
Mockingjay, throwing a file at Robin’s head: “Hey, Dickhead, remember Tiff? The street kid? Thanks to you sticking her in a “safe foster home” she was forced to go work street corners. Maybe you should tell your boss to do better research.”
Mockingjay is a menace, and if Tim thinks he can guilt trip/horrify the kid into condemning Jason’s work than he’s going to have a rude awakening hehe
#mockingjay is stubborn like all Bruce Waynes are#he’s not going to let ROBIN of all people pit him against Jason no way#jason todd#bruce wayne#tim drake#antithesis of magic
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Hi! I have a small farm but your posts have made me consider adding some peafowl. I've had guineafowl and chickens but god would i love peafowl. I also saw your posts with your hand raised peahen in the house, and I was wondering if she's actually litter trained? I have some bottle babies but have transferred them all out to typical barn/pasture existence, but if I could litter train a peafowl for (partial) indoor existence that would be glorious
As I have said many many times before and will likely say many many times again, you do not want a permanent house peafowl, I promise you. Bug was indoors with me because a) I have over a decade of experience with these birds, b) I did a sex linked breeding so I KNEW that she was a girl from the second she hatched c) I didn't particularly want to hand raise her, but I also wanted sleep and the birds are brooded in the house and she would not stop screaming d) I knew I was going to be home full time basically 24/7 to raise her without having to leave her on her own for long stretches while I was at work and e) I raised her with the full intention of putting her out when she was old enough to hold her own with the big birds- and that's where she currently lives, outside where she belongs.
They cannot be house/litter trained, the most you can do is diaper them, and they're not big enough for that for a few months and wearing one is always a risk- if they catch a toe from a poorly-fitted or poorly-applied diaper, they are strong enough to break their own legs and/or break their necks/wings struggling to get out.
Unlike standard breed chickens and farm waterfowl, peafowl can fly, like Actually Fly, and they can do so from about day 3 of life. You don't want a 10lb bird throwing itself around your house, because they're not passerines, they can't grasp things with their feet so they will just knock everything you love over in an attempt to find flat ground to stand on wherever they want to be. And they WILL throw temper tantrums when they're not getting their way- when you aren't sharing food, when you aren't going to bed at 6pm in the winter, when you aren't performing their daily schedule right, etc. They're just smart enough to be assholes, and big enough that that's a problem.
On top of that, males that are hand raised become exceedingly aggressive at maturity, to the point where many have been put down because they will relentless hunt and attack humans in their territory, and they have nasty spurs on their legs, and the ability to fly and to jump at least 6 feet up and hardly use their wings, which means they CAN jump and spur you in the face- and unlike chickens, they know where your face is, and will go for it. I've seen several folks with injuries from aggressive boys where the person narrowly escaped losing an eye. I, myself, was clawed over one eye once just from a bird that was eluding capture, and I'm well aware how much more badly that could have gone if she'd meant it rather than just trying to get away from being caught. The hens are (usually, although I've seen an exception) not aggressive, but unless you have the ability to socialize a hand raised hen with other birds, they have a hugely difficult time adapting to living in a flock, and I've heard many others refuse to breed with the males of their own kind. If they can't adapt to socializing with other birds, they can stress hugely when left alone or with other birds, and this can make them prone to illness.
The photos are cute, but this is a 110% "please do not attempt this at home" kind of deal. I've been caring for/learning about peafowl and their care in some way for 20 years and breeding them for the last 15 or so and I can say with my whole chest that you don't need any complications when getting into peafowl. There are already a million things that can go wrong just trying to raise a peafowl in a normal way, people kill the babies so often that a) reputable breeders often refuse to sell before 3 months old so they are well started and hardy and b) at least one Large Scale breeder I know of sells multi-pack day old chicks (the "discards" from his experimental pens) for super cheap because he fully expects them to die so he doesn't have to worry about competition on rare color breeding and can still make a buck.
If you want peafowl, and you have the space and the ability to pen one properly, and access to proper food and vet care, and you've done research on care and behavior, then absolutely go for it, they make great farm animals and they're really easy to befriend as subadults and even as adults and some birds are even super chill and will come right up and say hi (like Eris, whom I took home from another breeder because I visited and she just walked up and started inspecting me for treats like a chicken). But they do not make great indoor pets, even partially as adults.
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