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yanderambling · 2 years ago

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omg i’m thrilled that y’all like him so much!!! and these ideas were soso tasty ugh your minds~ i had a lot of fun with this, maybe too much if you look at the wc lol, so i hope y’all enjoy <3 ALSO continuity note: since Adrian is so popular, i won't carry major events through different stories unless requested, that way everyone can have their own version of his story! but i'll be keeping general facts about Adrian the same unless otherwise specified, like his parents being rich because i find it funny~ thank you and goodnight <3 (and yes i switched this gif with the last part shhhh it’s okay)

pairing: Masochist Puppyboy!Yandere(m) x Bully!Reader(gn)

words: ~ 4.6k

you can read the previous part here!

CW: 18+, NSFW, yandere behavior, stalking, bullying, physical/verbal abuse, BDSM themes, poor BDSM etiquette but neither party minds

Adrian nearly choked when he heard his name read next to yours for the school project.

It took you a second to recognize his; you mostly just call him mutt. Once you realized, you loudly groaned at the prospect of spending the week with that pest.

Adrian couldn’t hear it over his racing heart.

As soon as class lets out, he's right at your side, yammering on about project materials and meeting arrangements and times and "we should really meet at one of our houses so we don't have to worry about distractions, I'm fine with coming to yours! It's closer to school anyway, right? It'll be more private- I just think it makes sense-"

You finally shut him up by making the executive decision that you’ll work at his house (you don’t need him shedding on your furniture, or potentially getting any personal ammunition against you; he is way too interested in being inside your home, and how does he know it’s closer to school?).

Adrian was crestfallen that he wouldn’t get to go in your house (and smell the pure you imbued in your furniture, and pretend he’s really your dog while you sit together- maybe in your bedroom!-, and snoop through your underwear drawer when you go to the bathroom, and snoop through your bathroom when he goes in right after you...), but he was still over the moon at the idea of having you in his space.

(He’ll just visit your window later tonight like usual, anyway- he'll still get high off that closeness alone. Win/win!)

Adrian doesn't think about anything else for the rest of the day, zoning through his classes and plastered to your side whenever he gets the chance, just alight with energy and anticipation and not shutting up about it- he's lucky there's too many witnesses for you to knock him quiet (oh, but he would feel so much luckier if you did).

You would totally bail on this project if you weren’t already failing this class, which is mostly on account of you bailing. You’re wondering if all those cut classes were worth having to work with this, but you’re not feeling hopeful.

The day seems to drag on forever for both of you, for vastly different reasons. By the time school lets out, Adrian is buzzing out of his skin and you're seconds away from ripping it off him.

As you two start the trek to his place, Adrian can't get over how surreal it feels to walk beside you. It's like you two are a couple, and you're walking him home for an after school study date!

He gets lost in the daydream easily, giving you a brief reprieve from his energy, and allowing you to absently notice his rapidly wagging tail almost propelling him down the sidewalk. You can't help but smirk a little at the image that conjures in your mind.

He's truly ridiculous, you can't really believe him sometimes. Doesn't that thing ever get tired? What does he think is gonna happen that's got him so damn excited? That he's gonna get in good with you somehow (hopefully) and you'll leave him alone? (never in his wildest dreams.)

Yeah, fat chance.

When Adrian stops at his house, you think he's joking. But then he walks right up the driveway of this random McMansion, motioning you along eagerly, and enters a security code before holding the door open for you with a clearly anticipatory smile.

...The fuck.

You did not count on Adrian’s family being loaded. He certainly doesn't dress or groom like it.

You consider berating him for not mentioning it, but decide against it for the risk of seeming stupid- to Adrian of all people. You do make a mental note for your future errand requests, though.

Adrian’s parents aren’t home, he tells you his mom is always traveling and his dad basically lives at his office. You’re relieved that you won’t have to put on a nice face for the folks, but there’s apparently still a live-in housekeeper that floats around (are you fucking kidding?) so you stay diligent.

Adrian suggests you two work in his room; you figure the further from watchful eyes, the better.

Despite it being his idea, Adrian can't help his giddy nervousness as you enter his room (he’d texted the housekeeper to make sure it was clean as soon as you decided to come over, lucky he keeps his souvenirs hidden away whenever he’s not admiring them).

The room is frankly ridiculous, easily twice the size of yours, a king bed in the corner, a desk and coffee table and two dressers, and yet adorned with piles of clothes and clutter and more genres of nerdy shit than you even knew existed.

"Yeah, okay, parts of this make sense."

Adrian cocks his head, opening his mouth to ask what you mean, when he suddenly chokes on air.

You've made a bee-line right to his desk, covered in books and papers for hobbies and school alike, but also holding a locked drawer at the very bottom in which he keeps his "school collection" (just discarded pencils with bitten erasers, torn up notebook paper he can still smell your hands on, old gym shorts you were probably gonna replace soon anyway, a bandaid here, a plastic fork there; nothing crazy).

He watches with bated breath as you sift through the contents of his desk, occasionally scoffing or chuckling at what you find. He lets out a sigh when you seem to grow bored, just for you to move on to his dresser and have his stomach doing somersaults all over again.

Maybe he should've asked the housekeeper to hide his stuff better and just braved the questions later...

You move throughout the room like you own it (you do, as far as the both of you are concerned), making little jabs at his various posters and figurines which make his whole body flush hot with pleasure because you're noticing things about him, but every other move you make sends his heart jumping into his throat in a completely different way.

It only takes a minute or two for the stress to get to him.

“Ah- hey! Uh, maybe we should- maybe we should start on the project, right?”

You bark a laugh and spin on your heel to face him, an incredulous half-grin pulling your lips and revealing a gut-twisting flash of teeth.

"We?"

Oh, yeah, he much prefers those intense eyes boring into him.

He starts spluttering placations immediately. "No! Well, uhm, I didn't mean- you, you don't- have to- obviously, I mean, I don't- I wouldn't-"

You roll your eyes and shove past him, effectively cutting him off as you flop down onto his abominably soft mattress. "Right, yeah, whatever. Let's get one thing straight here, okay?"

Adrian nods, his whole being drawn to focus at your entrancingly commanding tone. Although, it's incredibly hard to focus on anything with the sight of you on his bed right in front of him; he's already planning how to avoid that area so it'll retain your scent longer, he wonders if he could cut that part of the duvet out and keep it in an airtight container, maybe the sheets under it too just to be safe...

"This is not a "we" situation, got it? I'm not lifting a damn finger for this bullshit, that's what you're there for." Adrian has a purpose to you! "I am only here to make sure you're actually doing it, which shouldn't be a problem because if we get anything less than an A, it's gonna be your ass."

As tempting as it is to see what punishment you would inflict upon him, Adrian really really really wants to please you- and he's pretty good at this subject anyway!

You then cross your arms and lean back just enough to look down your nose at him. "Got it?"

Adrian can't answer fast enough.

"Yes! Yes, that's perfect! Awesome, good- great!"

But then he doesn’t make a move. Ha.

He looks a little lost, standing in the middle of his own room, barely biting down a grin and wringing his hands as he seems to wait for another command.

Apparently, you’ve trained him well.

You scoff and let yourself fall onto your back as you pull out your phone (Adrian's gonna need a bigger airtight container).

"Well, go on then, we don't have all day."

Adrian scrambles to get to work. He quickly positions himself on the floor by the foot of the bed and pulls the coffee table closer, emptying his school bag carelessly onto the carpet.

You huff a laugh at the sight, all this money and the kid's parents couldn't buy him any class. Maybe sloppiness is an inherent trait, like his apparent passion for service- nobody with this much money should be such a pushover. And yet...

Adrian couldn’t be happier, sitting on the floor while you lounge across his bed and periodically weigh in with (mostly incorrect) corrections or snide remarks, an almost alarmingly wide grin settled on his face as his tail taps a steady rhythm against his carpet.

It’s not an unpleasant picture, you muse absently as you look up from your phone, it’s almost comforting to have your little puppy on the floor, cheerily working away for you while you laze about. It certainly beats doing the work yourself, or having to threaten a student with an actual spine to do it for you.

Still, it doesn't take long for you to get bored. Bored enough to notice your empty stomach, at least.

"I'm hungry."

Adrian's head shoots up from the book he was hunched over, ears raised at attention and eyes glittering with something you're not sure you care to identify.

He's on his feet in the next second, knocking his knees on the way up loud enough to startle you yet showing no signs of even noticing.

"I-I'll ask Len to make something!"

He darts out of the room before you can tell him what you want, but you trust he knows your moods and tastes well enough by this point to predict. (Oh, he does, and Len's not going to be making anything- they don't know all the special ingredients!)

The second he leaves, you decide to really cure your boredom by snooping around in earnest. Certainly this creep has something actually weird hidden in here, you just have to look in the right places.

You waste no time in sifting through his bookshelf (nerd shit), closet (nerd clothes, some dirty), a dresser (nerd clothes, mostly clean), under his bed (dirty clothes, nerd shit in boxes)- the door opens behind you.

“Wha-? Oh! Ah- Wh-what- what are you doing?”

You don’t even bother moving from your crouch, most of your upper body shoved under the bedstand while the rest of you... is not.

Adrian’s mouth is completely dry for several reasons.

“What’re you, blind? I’m snooping.”

Adrian slowly comes further into the room, hesitantly setting the serving tray on the low table. He can’t stop his voice from cracking as he stutters out,

“Uh- yeah, okay, yeah, but- um, would you maybe mind- um, not?”

You snicker, at least he has some manners. “Yeah, I do mind, actually. What’s the matter, mutt? Got something to hide?”

“N-no!”

The answer is so immediate, so fervent, that it has you pulling up just to give him an unimpressed look. He stares back at you, eyes wide and frenzied.

“Jesus you’re a bad liar.”

Looking at him now, you can see sweat glistening on his face and his hands clenching by his side. His eyes dart toward the dresser you haven't checked yet.

Bingo.

You jump up from your position and stride across the room with purpose. You only make it a few steps before Adrian seems to materialize in front of you, making you stop short and almost yelp from shock.

“S-sorry! I’m sorry, I just-" he's waving his hands wildly, head ducked as his gaze rapidly flicks between your face and the floor, "You-you can’t- please, please don’t-”

“Okay, creep, I get the gist.”

You shove past him, and he wishes he could relish the firm pressure of your hands on him.

He whirls around and watches in horror as you approach the dresser. He needs to do something, he needs to stop you, but what can he do? You’ve clearly made up your mind, it’s not like it's his place to try and change it...

All he can do is watch, a high ringing in his ears and his body filling with static, while you meticulously sift through every drawer until his clothes are strewn about the floor and you're panting with frustration.

He's about to let himself take a breath when you suddenly squat down and stick your arm into the shallow space underneath. He nearly swallows his tongue when you let out a disbelieving huff and awkwardly slide out a long lockbox.

You look up at him triumphantly, eyes sparkling with glee, and he almost mirrors your smile just for how captivating it is.

"Open it."

"N-no-"

You lean up toward him and cock your head, he has to stop himself from being drawn in by the magnetism of your narrowed eyes. “The fuck did you just say to me?"

"I'm sorry! I didn't- just, I can't-"

"Oh, I think you can. Or you're not gonna like what happens next."

That's where you're wrong, and it only really strengthens Adrian's extremely shaky resolve. He tries to keep the grin off his face as he habitually starts to picture the punishment you might give him; a cuff on the ears, a knee to the stomach, a punch in the face-

But you just roll your eyes and groan, no longer in the mood now that something more interesting has presented itself.

Instead, your gaze floats down to the flimsy looking combination lock on the box, then it fixes on some heavy-standed figurine you'd knocked off his bookshelf earlier.

Yeah, good enough.

Adrian barely has time to flinch before you're snatching it up and breaking the lock with a sound crack.

Then you're lifting the lid.

"No!"

He starts to lunge forward, but your sharply raised hand halts him dead in his tracks.

Fuck.

It's too late anyway, judging by your wide eyes and slightly slack jaw (god how he wishes he could focus on the glorious curve of your open lips, or the way your perfect teeth peek over them, or how it might feel to have those teeth sunk into his skin-)

"What. The. Fuck."

"I-I can explain- It's not-!"

"I literally do not believe that you can."

Adrian's throat goes dry, he feels tears welling in his eyes. "I'm sorry- I'm sorry! I never meant- it's not like-"

You tune Adrian out as you focus on the stacks and stacks of photos arranged in the box before you. There even seem to be books underneath those, thick ones despite the shallowness of the container. You’d say there’s easily hundreds of pictures in here.

But, more concerning than the amount of photos… is their content.

They’re all you.

Undeniable, from every angle and range and setting you could imagine, it’s all you. There’s you at your spot with your friends, sitting in class, in the cafeteria, running errands in town, sneaking off to that private spot nobody else is supposed to know about, asleep in your bed- in dozens and dozens of iterations, like you could probably make a flip book of every scene.

It’s offensively redundant, honestly, a gross waste of paper. Maybe equally as concerning.

(Adrian needs to keep physical copies, and hard drives, and backup hard drives, and another box further under the dresser... What if something happens to his phone? What if he lost all his treasured photos forever? He doesn’t know what he’d do.)

"You're a bigger creep than I gave you credit for." You murmur, mostly to yourself.

Adrian never thought he'd feel anything but sheer joy from hearing that word leave your mouth. "N-no! It's not- it's not like that! I'm not- I don't-"

While Adrian's still blustering and working himself into a tizzy, you're just... processing.

It's oddly unsurprising, once you consider all the other factors together. Looking at it now, of course Adrian had more perverted reasons for complying to your cruelty, what else could he have been getting out of it? You guess you kinda always knew, on some level, but you never thought it would be like this.

But, since it is, you can't help but wonder just how far this perversion has gone, how far it will go...

This night has been boring enough that you're entitled to a little fun, right?

And besides, looking at him now- all wide eyed and droopy eared, his tail pulled between his legs and clutched in his trembling hands- Adrian actually looks a little bit... cute? In a pathetic, dirty stray caught in the rain type of way, of course.

The only real difference is that you'd be much kinder to the stray.

"Alright, shut it, stalker."

Adrian's mouth snaps closed, his tail trying to tuck further at your dangerously low voice.

"Obviously, this severe-" you flap a stack of photos at him, causing him to duck his head and whimper, "-invasion of my privacy can't go unpunished."

Adrian's eyes become impossibly bigger as they flash up to watch you stand. His ears suddenly perk, his tail tugs against his grip as it tries to hesitantly wag.

Jesus, he's shameless.

This is gonna be fun.

But first, a plan. You don't want Adrian getting too bold, so what better way to keep him in his place than by tying him there? Looking around his room, you don't have much to work with, but you're resourceful; a lace from his sneakers should do just fine (who keeps shoes in their room? what a creep).

"Alright. Sit."

Adrian is falling to his knees before his brain can process the words. When it does, he isn't quick enough to bite down on the high keen that builds in his throat.

You scoff, mentally scorning yourself for ignoring his shit for so long, then go to pull a lace. Adrian watches in rapt attention as you test its strength, your hands flexing so tantalizingly as you pull the string harshly several times over.

He holds his breath on instinct when your scrutinizing glare scans the room again.

"Okay, bed. Back to the headboard. Now."

Adrian scrambles up immediately, pulling some of the sheets off in his hurry, eager to obey before you change your mind.

You follow right after, kneeling up and leaning over him to tie his hands to the headboard above him. His dry throat click as he gulps.

You're so close, your heavenly scent filling his lungs like a sweet paralyzing vapor, he can feel the heat radiating from your skin despite the clothes between you, he could probably taste you if he just stuck out his tongue...

He whines as you yank the shoelace tight with a grunt before tying it off. You tug on his hands once more, forcing the string deeper into his skin, and your hum of satisfaction is drowned out by Adrian's low groan.

What a wonderful feeling, the sharp sting of the lace grounding him down like he needs to be; he can't help twisting and pulling until the burn intensifies, imagining it's your firm hands holding him so tightly...

"Jesus, freak, you're already getting into it?"

Adrian just whimpers, barely registering the question past your condescending tone as he continues to squirm.

You suddenly grab the front of his shirt and pull him forward until he's partially hovering off the mattress, the combined pressure of your knuckles under his chin and the shoestring grating his tender wrists pulls a breathy moan along with.

You lean in close, practically growling as you say, "Don't do my job for me, mutt."

You press a relatively fresh bruise on his arm just to see him twitch and bite his lip (it’s actually from a week ago, that’s how good he is at maintaining your marks for you!). It is pretty gratifying.

Almost as gratifying as the bulge you spot between his wantonly spread legs.

A breathless laugh punches out of you. It's oddly jarring to see, and you would later deny that it's slightly impressive, but it's not an entirely unpleasant sight.

"God, you're fucking pathetic. But you know that, don't you, you little creep?"

If your words weren't enough to have Adrian shaking out of his skin, you lean closer and nip his ear; he jerks back instinctively at the pain, which only makes its sting so much sweeter when you sink your teeth in and pull back.

He doesn’t bother trying to keep himself quiet.

“This isn’t even a punishment for you, is it? Is it, you fucking perv?”

Adrian is so far beyond saving face, he’s mostly beyond communication of any kind, so he just shakes his head fervently and grunts and hopes it’s good enough.

“Use your words, mutt.”

He gasps as you yank his throbbing ear, pulling his face closer to yours- oh dear god he can feel your hot breath against his cheeks, every detail of your perfect face so confident and dangerous and ethereal, your sparkling eyes look positively deadly and Adrian is ready to submit himself to their perils-

“Answer me," your sharp words make his lashes flutter, but he keeps his eyes wide open to stare at your taunting smile hanging just inches from his face, "are you getting off on this?”

He nods, he’s starting to get dizzy with all this nodding but he doesn't feel capable of much else, then you tug his hair back with the most glorious burn-

“Ah-Yes! Yes, I love- I love it, please- give me- more- please, I need- I need-“

He cuts off with a choked sound as your fingers slide up his throat and tighten, all too happy to oblige.

"That what you want? You happy now?" You taunt, your breath against the shell of his ear raising goosebumps all over his body.

He tries to nod against your grip, causing you to smirk and push further.

Oh god yes please-

Garbled moans fight their way from his throat as his eyes roll back in ecstasy, his straddled legs pressing tightly together as he thrashes desperately against the headboard, his whole body trembling and pushing up and up in search of contact- but you keep pulling away, putting more pressure on his neck to support yourself, bringing out the most pitiful little whimpers.

"Use your words, puppy."

Puppy.

Adrian chokes for reasons entirely unrelated to your hand on his neck. His tail, which had been beating a rapid tempo since you sat him down, starts flailing into overdrive.

It takes considerably more effort, but Adrian needs to please you- maybe you’ll even reward him!- so he coughs and gasps until he can force out,

"Y-Yes,” a strained cough, “Tha-agh-thank- you-"

A smile curls your lips unbidden. Such initiative! You let your fingers stroke over his throat as your hand presses in harder.

"There, that's a good boy."

Adrian's vision whites out.

He’s not even aware of the stream of whines and moans that force their way from beneath your fingers, he doesn't notice how his body squirms against the pressure of you on top of him, he couldn't tell the frantic thumping of his tail from that of his heart- all he can focus on is the red hot ecstasy filling every inch of him to bursting, the transcendent bliss of being so thoroughly claimed, so completely controlled, so wholly owned by you.

He's still hiccupping moans and thumping his tail when you withdraw your hand for fear of suffocating him, these needy little noises escaping his already bruising throat.

His head lolls back and his mouth falls open as you remain suspended above him, taking in your handiwork.

He’s so vulnerable, his entire body open and happily exposed to you, every muscle trembling in the aftershocks. His chest heaves as sweat and tears drip down onto his shirt, but he seems to pay no mind as his vacant eyes flutter up at you. He struggles to keep them open as a dopey grin spreads across his bitten lips, and you have to bite your own to stop from returning it.

Then, your eyes travel down to the steadily shrinking tent of his pants, now adorned with a dark wet stain- just like you expected.

Hot.

"Pathetic."

You sit back on you heels, seemingly alerting Adrian to your absence as his hand flies up to grab his throat with a high whine- but you cut that shit off right away.

"Yeah, no, I'm not trying to catch a murder charge tonight, thanks. Besides," your eyes pointedly flick down between his spread legs, causing his face to heat up though he makes no move to close them, "it looks like you got more than your share- frankly, you should be grateful for anything I'm willing to give you."

Adrian's voice is hoarse when he tries to insist, "I am! I-" he cuts off with a heavy cough, which only has you wincing with guilt a little. "I'm- I'm grateful. I am!"

You don't doubt it, especially looking into those watery, red-rimmed puppydog eyes of his. However, you do like to be cruel, and you did just get a bunch of texts from some of your friends about this 'super crazy thing you don't wanna miss and you gotta get down here right now!', (and you're maybe feeling a little uncharacteristically giddy as you fully process your situation) so...

"Doesn't matter, I can't reward this insolence."

You untie the shoelace with a deft tug and slide off the bed without another word.

Adrian just barely stops himself from whining again, the sudden loss of the pressure around his wrists leaving him feeling untethered. He has to dig his nails into his hands as he watches you collect your things (the covered platter lay forgotten on the table, insult to injury), just to keep from reaching out for you.

He wants desperately to follow you, but he can't make his body move for how relaxed and heavy it feels, and he knows it would probably just upset you more anyway- and not in the good way.

“Oh, and Adrian?” You slap the doorframe as you hang off of it, and your use of his name has Adrian's groggy head springing up to face you instantly, ears high and eyes hopeful.

“Next time you want a picture of me, just ask. That way I can knock some sense into you right away.” You tap the frame again, a crooked grin fixing your lips before you push off.

“See ya tomorrow!”

Still too fuzzy to move, and in fresh shock from that almost-genuine smile, he can only listen forlornly as your steps grow fainter and fainter until the door shuts downstairs. Then, he's helpless to do anything beyond replay the events of the past ten minutes in obsessive detail in attempts to permanently document every single sensation you gave to him.

He only manages to move about a half hour later, when his phone buzzes with a text.

He slowly leans over the bed and lifts his phone from the floor, blinking blearily as he reads... your name. Attached to a ludicrously extravagant lunch order for tomorrow.

The phone drops from his fingers like lead.

How?

His heart starts racing as he wracks his brain to recall when you put his number in your phone- then, his tail starts up again as he wonders if he'll be punished for already having yours in his (not for anything weird! he just likes to type out walls of text complimenting every part of you and telling you exactly the ways he wants you to destroy him and then deleting them- but maybe he'll send the next one).

It must mean something good if you want to keep in close contact with him, right? That must mean you aren't really mad at him, right? That must mean you like him, right? You still think he’s a good boy, right?

Another text lights up his phone. He scrambles to grab it back, hands shaking as he holds the screen close to his face.

[ur gnna b my bitch 4evr now]

A shaky giggle escapes him.

Those are easily the most beautiful words he’s ever read.

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

check my pinned post~

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #soft yandere #sub yandere #hybrid yandere #puppy yandere #male yandere #bully reader #gn reader #dom reader #yandere oc #yandere imagine #yandere requests

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viccharine · 2 months ago

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what a wonderful caricature of intimacy

(commentary + process under the cut, reblogs appreciated!!)

about the piece: was anyone else obsessed with the line “accessorizing with a rosary tucked inside her lingerie” ???? genuinely, “build god and then we’ll talk” was my FAVORITE song almost entirely because of that line, it’s SOO GOOD. maybe it’s because I’ve kinda made it my thing to illustrate songs, but I really appreciate when songs have really descriptive lyrics/ideas that translate really well into visual art.

also, more about my process: I’ve realized two things about myself and my art w/ this piece:

1. i don’t really like working with color at all!! it’s just not very fun for me, I’d much rather work in shades of black and white and use my beloved screen tones instead :)

2. i like a lot of angular shapes— curved lines make me mad and i would prefer not to mess w them (read: loser who won’t put in the effort to draw anything resembling a circle)

I really enjoyed almost “carving” out this figure—i usually start with a black canvas and add a blob of white that vaguely resembles the form and then slowly using black to carve out the figure. adding the screen tones and creating the back-lit effect was also super cool (the lighting probably isn’t that accurate, but i never said i was GOOD at it)

also, if you’ve been following me for a while, you probably recognize this concept from my earlier dance dance piece:

they are very similar concept wise, but around a year apart!! i think I definitely like the execution of the more recent one better, but it’s cool to see the evolution of my art despite me not making art that often anymore. I can’t say much to whether or not the anatomy in either of the pieces is accurate, but I would probably assume that the recent one is more accurate

usually I would end these types of posts with some commentary about the song, but I really don’t have much to say analysis-wise! build god and then we’ll talk is still one of my fav songs off afycso, and sonically it’s definitely one of the most interesting songs panic! has ever put out—very happy to have finally made a piece to show my appreciation for the song :)

anyway that’s it byeeeeeeeeeeee!

#digital art #my art #fanart #art #ryan ross #artists on tumblr #pre split panic #panic at the disco fanart #patd fanart #build god then we’ll talk #a fever you can't sweat out #afycso #afycso fanart #a fever you can’t sweat out fanart #bandom #bandom art #jon walker #spencer smith #live in denver

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absolutebl · 11 months ago

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Best 23 of BL 2023 - Quirky Awards

SHOCK & AWE AWARDS

1. Biggest BL surprise of 2023:

The last 3 months of 2023 in general got my biggest WTF award.

GMMTV fielding OffGun AND TayNew in the same quarter while also airing Last Twilight (arguably one of their best BLs ever)

That they ALSO optioned 3 JBLs

That there's a high heat omegaverse BL staring Pavel

That there were 20 BLs airing and none of them Korean.

With 5 VAMPIRE BLs announced for next year

But my prize in this category goes to My Dear Gangster Oppa.

It's just crazy:

Thai talent, Korean money + IP (this is adapted from a manwha) airing on a Chinese channel (iQIYI). Plus it was GOOD and made smart reuse of a pair who richly deserved it. I'm delighted by the eclectic insanity of this production. And wonder if any other film genre could even do anything like this.

2. The “that country did WHAT?” award:

The 8th Sense from Korea?!

I mean, seriously?! Dealing with metal health, suicide, darkness, therapy, age gap, & first time love BUT FROM KOREA? And then openness and casual boyfriend physical affection? What's next? An actual hard fought coming out narrative with an HEA? Gay domesticity and families?

Careful Korea, you'll strain something. Possibly your own culture and film industry.

I should stop having expectations of Korea, they keep surprising me.

Runners up: Korea letting OnlyOneOf do Bump Up Business not to mention that OmegaX thing. AND Korea adapting Why R U? What are you up to, Korea? Qua? Is this a coded message? Should we send help? Do you need snacks?

3. Biggest casting whoa! where did you come from? award:

GeminiFourth in My School President.

Seriously? Babies what? How did GMMTV find you? How do you exist? How is BL this lucky?

4. That studio did WHAT now? award:

GMMTV putting EarthMix into Moonlight Chicken.

And then doubling down with G4 as the damn sides.

Fucking genius.

5. I’m sad you were ignored award:

Destiny Seeker.

It's just a really fun little Thai pulp, the pairs were good, silly dialogue, plus consent and other good rep. I enjoyed it. No one talked about it AT ALL.

6. 2023 BL That Actually Made Me Lose My Mind Award?

Laws of Attraction. -The casting, the crazy story, the soapy drama! But specifically: Film playing Charn - the range of his smiles alone. GLORIOUS

I mean I Feel You Linger in the Air also sparked something in me, but LoA drove me actually nuts.

NARRATIVE AWARDS

7. Best story 2023:

La Pluie

I know, you're surprised, right? At the time I didn't chat much about it but I really enjoyed the discourse others were having. I love anything that really examines the fated mates (soulmates) trope and the idea of "the one". What a clever way to do that. (This is one reason UWMA is my favorite Thai BL.)

This one reminded me of the way Color Rush approached allegory and that's no bad thing. Such an impressive little piece.

8. Best narrative structure 2023 award:

Unintentional Love Story.

I know this may seem a simplistic pick. But I love the tidiness of this no frills contemporary romance, how the culture of work and personal ethics and corruption fight against the main character's affection and integrity. Poor baby boy is driven into a corner and then punished for it. But it is punishment he feels he deserves, and so it is up to his (now) ex to figure out what went wrong and why.

It's just great. I love it when no one is stupid or wrong, it's just impossible circumstances and unintentional love deeply felt.

9. Best 2023 dialogue (script) award:

Jun & Jun

Never before has Korea laced a BL with that much perfectly executed innuendo. It was a master class. I didn't know you could be that lascivious in Korean, quite frankly. Plus the way the 2 Juns constantly seamlessly transition between formal register (work, public - where they are boss/employee) to informal register (when they are alone and age mates + childhood sweethearts).

Beautiful to hear and watch.

10. Favorite scene 2023:

The dub con scene in I Cannot Reach You because I AM TRASH for an out of control seme. I'm sorry I just AM.

I have said it before, I will say it again, NO ONE DOES THIRST like Japan. And when that thirst bubbles over, it is heart-clenching and very hot.

11. The most rewatchable BL of 2023 award:

Our Dating Sim

That scene where they lie on the floor + the stolen kiss + giggle? Come on, it should be on comfort repeat in war rooms. It could bring world peace.

ACTORS & CHARACTERS AWARDS

12. Best performance of a queer actor in a leading role, 2023:

Fluke in Make a Wish.

It was fun to see him as an irreverent immortal and while I love OhmFluke I also really enjoyed this new pairing. It was a genuine pleasure to watch.

13. Best pining 2023:

The moot pining in Tokyo in April is...

Boys, seriously? Japan must you destroy us like this? Hurts so good.

14. Best wingman 2023 (The Namgoong Award)

Tiw from My School President

I mean, come on, of course it's him!

(Also can you believe Mark went on from this to do fricking Only Friends!? To Last Twilight! Come on GMMTV GIVE HIM A LEAD!)

15. Biggest OMG I LOVE you boys together, YAY!

Dimpled McMafia & Feral Bunny Foo Foo from Kiseki Dear to Me.

They were feral for each other.

We were feral for them

It was a whole delightful THING.

16. Most unexpected return of a BL pair? award:

The Private Lessons pair showing up in Love Class 2.

I know it was only a cameo, but SERIOUSLY? Thank you SO MUCH Korea! A big studio picking up a Strongberry pairing? I love you.

Seriously tho between them, Taiwan & Korea tried for ALL THE CAMEOS this year.

17. Well aren't you two just the prettiest? award:

NetJames in Bed Friend.

Need I say more?

18. LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENT AWARD

Bah Vinh in Vian & Mr Cinderella 2. I did like either show but I loved him in them. Especially the make outs.

Yes you have chemistry with all the boys in Vietnam and you kiss beautifully. But it's okay now honey, you have the crown. Relax, you're stressing us out.

RANDOM PICKS

19. Favorite Linguistic Moment of 2023:

Our Dating Sim

Caught in the act by the elevator scene. OMG it's so funny. They're being such boyfriend shits to each other, and to be caught in the act by THAT character, and try to manifest formal language whole cloth? Hilarious.

Honorable mention to War Peanuts in Destiny Seeker.

20. Biggest disappointment of 2023:

You Are Mine

Seriously Taiwan, AGAIN you disappoint me with an Office BL? You're Taiwan, land of offices and suits. This should be YOUR SETTING TO WIN. And yet... argh. I mean it wasn't bad. But it wasn't good either. Stop it Taiwan, do better.

Runners up? Between Us, Chains of Heart, Dangerous Romance - this was a HOTLY contested category.

+ 2 Winners in the sub-category of FUCK YOU FOR THAT ENDING award:

The Director who Buys Me Dinner - I mean this nicely but: you have your lane now Korea, stop hurting us, that's Japan's responsibility and they do it better.

I Feel You Linger In the Air - I'm just hugely disappointed. Thailand ALMOST got its second 10/10 from me, but that damn ending.

Argh.

21. Best Wardrobe/Prop Use 2023

The shower of packaged bedsheets in My Personal Weatherman

Amazing. Brilliant. No notes.

22. Best Queer Rep 2023

Chot in Step By Step

In fact, all the queer characters in this show were treated with great integrity.

AND props to this cast for refusing to do fan service. GOOD FOR YOU! Fuck those sasang wankers.

Runners up? The found family cast of Love in Translation and the Rainbow Rice Cakes in The New Employee.

23. Best Meta Trope call out

Tin Tem Jai

Come on, what a zinger, but at themselves (and Taiwan)

Final question: which of the 23 was the hardest for me to pick?

Honestly? Question #1 this year. But also question #20.

(Last year: 2022's Version)

Remember I only pull from shows that were completely finished by the end of 2023. Or The Sign probably would have taken multiple categories. But it will fall into 2024 offerings.

(source)

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taintedcigs · 11 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐃彡

rockstar!steddie x reader

summary: dating two rockstars is fun, except when you get caught breaking their rules, and your punishment ends up in the form of some festive fun — tied up with christmas lights.

warnings: smut smut smut, minors DNI, p in v, creampie, unprotected (wrap it up irl im so serious), spanking, punishment?, daddy kink (but its so very light do not look at me im so seriously embarrassed), oral (m receiving, good old bj), kinda rough, dom/sub dynamics, mean!dom!eddie, mean!dom!steve no use of ‘y/n’, degrading, praises, nicknames!

authors note: the banner thingy of this is making me laugh i tried ok. graphic design is my PASSION.

Taming brats.

That was something Eddie was really fucking good at.

Expert even, especially after he started dating you. And once Steve was thrown into the mix, you were unstoppable.

Acting out more than usual, being a teasing little slut.

It all happened with a drunken night out after their show, three-way kissing, and hours of making each other cum led to one realization; the three of you worked perfectly, and you and your boyfriend were more than okay to open up the relationship to Steve.

To Steve it was all so exciting, this new dynamic, the fun stuff the three of you tried, the punishments, the edging, the overstimulation, all the new kinks, intrigued him to no end. Yet, Steve still had one problem; he wasn’t that good at being a dominant.

Whether it was him apologizing to you and not being able to fully punish you, him letting you be bratty, or him letting some of your actions go unpunished just because you looked at him all prettily.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like being a dominant, he did, he really fucking did. So much so that he was doing everything he could to not fuck it up and make you and Eddie proud.

It was that he was just very new to this, while Eddie had his fair share of kinky sex stories, and so did you, all Steve had were some hookups here and there, the groupies he had weren’t that interesting; the wildest thing he ever did was some dirty talk, and maybe getting his dick sucked at a public bathroom. This was a brand new territory he was trying to get adjusted to.

The two of you were more than okay with helping him adjust to it all. Eddie loved teaching Steve about you and your body, what you enjoyed, what made you squirm, what made you instantly cum and of course; how exactly to punish you the right way. It all sounded perfect as an idea, but Steve could never execute it well.

Whether it was because of those puppy eyes you did, or the whines that he drew from your mouth anytime he tried to put you in your place, or the begging and the sweet-talking, Steve didn’t have it in his heart to go all the way, which earned him the ‘soft daddy’ tittle you giggly called him all the time.

So, Eddie wanted to teach him how to do it properly, in a way that was enjoyable and comfortable for all three of you, clearly, he knew you better than Steve did, and he knew his sort of punishments were always something you took pleasure out of, so he wanted to show Steve that, make him realize how good it made you feel, and how the dynamic truly worked.

And this was the perfect time to show him, especially when you broke one of the most important rules.

Steve sat on the edge of the bed with his arms crossed against his chest, disappointed, angrier than you ever saw him, you with your head drooped low and your hands behind your back, and Eddie with that goddamned smirk on his lips leaning against the wall, tilting your chin upwards with a tut.

You were naked, fingers still coated with your juices, a slight guilt flashing across your eyes—but not really. Because you wanted to be caught, you wanted this punishment. Wanted the attention.

Especially when both of them were so busy with work since New Year’s was coming up. They were either at gigs or at the studio, not even letting you come with them because you were ‘too distracting’.

So, once again when they left for the studio, you had an idea. An idea that would surely bring out a mean punishment, yet the best pleasure.

The second you heard the door getting unlocked, you were naked, laying on the bed, turning on your vibrator, knowing that once you let out a few slight gasps, the two of them would end up in the room, and all of their attention would be on you.

“Eds, I swear I—I didn’t even cum!” You muttered with a whine.

Eddie barked out a chuckle, mocking you. “That doesn’t mean shit, baby, rules are rules.”

“Steve!” You whined all brattily, turning to him with a pout, expecting to earn some sympathy from him, because you always did. Yet, there was something different this time, a darkness his gaze didn’t possess until now, you’d be lying if it didn’t make you rub your thighs together in excitement.

“Don’t think you can try to get out of this one by sweet-talking me doll, not gonna work,” Steve mumbled, the nickname rolling off his tongue with all the pent-up anger.

“Now we have to punish you.” He narrowed his gaze, making you swallow. Shit, he’d have to cave eventually, right? Because this was Steve.

“And I’m sure, that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Our attention?” You don’t answer, knowing that anything coming from your mouth could get you more into trouble, and Eddie scoffed at the state of you, that devilish grin playing on his lips.

“Steve, honey, can you get those Christmas lights?” He asked sweetly, a smile flashed his way, and nothing but a scowl flashed yours.

“L—lights?” You asked with a pout. Fuck, lights meant trouble, because you hated how tight they were, and you hated not being able to touch them.

“Yeah, have to bring out the big guns, you’ve been so bratty lately. Such a shame too, because you were doing so good honey, when was the last time you were all tied up?” He quizzed mockingly, face inches away from yours.

“I don’t remember.” You mumbled.

“Aha, that’s why we need it back, and so that I can teach Steve how to tie our little slut up, isn’t that right?” As if on cue, Steve came back with a grin, the long string of Christmas lights in his embrace.

“Thank you, baby,” Eddie hummed excitedly, pressing a harsh kiss on Steve’s lips, flushing his cheeks a salmon pink, before he made a show of the strings of light, wrapping it around his hand, and grinning while he made his way over to you.

Steve sat on the edge of the bed again, and Eddie motioned toward you. “Lie down on Steve’s lap, face down.” With a quick huff, you obeyed, crawling over his lap, making a show of it as you wiggled your ass in the air, enjoying the low hisses from both men.

“Arms behind your back, slut,” He hisses, and you’re quick to obey, crossing your arms over your back, watching as he plugs the lights into the outlet, a grin overtaking his face as they light up.

He stretches them forward before he begins tying you up, twisting them around your arms, making sure your wrists are steadily restrained, before he loops them around your hips and your legs, making sure it has a tight hold on you.

“Look how pretty you look like this.” He grins, watching the way the Christmas lights illuminate your skin as he lands a harsh smack on your bare flesh, and you yelp dramatically over it, skin burning with the impact. You try your best not to giggle, not to make him know that you’re enjoying this, because you want the punishment to be over as soon as possible.

You need to cum. And you know Eddie can, and will edge you till’ however long he wants, so as much fun as it is to be a brat, you need to behave, for these next ten minutes, or try to seduce Steve in some way, you knew he tried to be tough, but you always managed to break him.

Eddie kneels next to you, while Steve squeezes your ass, his cock stirring more and more you whimper for him. “Steve’s gonna spank you five times,” Eddie taunts with a grin, and you nod, trying to ignore the flutters in your stomach the more you feel Steve’s grabby hands.

“That is unless you want some more?” Eddie challenges with a raise of his brow.

“N—no!”

“Good girl,” he praises, and fuck, does that make your stomach instantly tumble.

“Make it rough, Steve, she enjoys that shit,” he spits, fingers teasingly dancing around your shoulder.

“She sees you as her soft daddy, she thinks you can’t really punish her, you gotta show her that you own her, too,” Eddie mocks with a slight grin, enjoying the way Steve’s gaze is overblown with lust now.

“Is that right, honey?” Steve hisses, all mean and biting. Something you haven’t seen to this length, something that was making you so intrigued that you could barely speak.

“Nuh-uh,” you hummed, head dipped into the couch, before Steve had a harsh grip on your chin, making you face him. Chocolate gaze growing darker, and pupils blown wide.

“Need you to count for me, honey, can you do that?” You nodded, quick and obedient, and Steve was starting to understand how good it felt, to have you surrender to him, his cock stirring at your doe-eyes.

His hand raises in the air, the smack of it much softer than Eddie’s, but still rough enough that you feel the sting, a warm feeling overtaking your flesh, causing you to yelp at the unexpected intrusion.

“You can be rougher, baby,” Eddie encourages, enjoying that pure hunger in Steve’s amber hues, and he’s quick to nod.

“I thought you said you could count, slut. Is that pretty little head of yours so full with the thought of our cocks that you forgot to count all of a sudden, doll?” The nicknames roll off his lips like a warning, tone so coarse that you immediately tense up, apologetic gaze meeting his dark ones.

“S—sorry, Stevie,” you muttered, his sudden dominance making your body tremble, and your cheeks flush with heat. “O—one.”

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” He coos, hand smoothing over your reddened skin, reveling the way you shudder under his touch.

He spanks you again, and another yelp falls out of your lips, this time much harder than before, you can fully feel the pain, and Eddie watches the two of you in awe.

“Two.”

His hand gropes your ass again, massaging over your heated skin, and once again, harsh smack lands on your marked-up flesh, much rougher, but easing the second he carefully traces over it.

“T—three,” you mutter, moaning into the pillows your head was smushed in.

You feel another hand join Steve’s, but your attempts to look up at Eddie are turned down when he tuts, “Focus on your punishment.”

His fingers are teasing as they make their way up to your trembling thighs, drawing whiney breaths from you. He uses his index fingers to spread you apart, both him and Steve groaning at the sight of your puffy clit.

His fingers find their way inside of you, earning shaky moans while you try to push yourself back onto him, to have more, to feel that fullness, and all Steve does is chuckle at you, at how pathetic you want them both, rutting against Eddie’s fingers while you moan.

And just as you’re about to beg for more, beg to have both of their cocks, two harsh slaps land on your ass, one on both cheeks, the two boys grinning devilishly as they watch the way their handprints mark your ass.

“Four,” you mumble, words scrambled together when all you want is more from them, the mocking making you wetter and wetter. Especially when Steve is being all mean for the first time.

“You didn’t think it’d be that easy, sweetheart, did you?” Steve mocks with a pout, and you moan into the pillow again.

Steve kneads your sensitive skin, while Eddie’s fingers are still inside of you, your ass is burning, but it feels so good that you can’t help the whines that leave your mouth.

“Such a fuckin’ slut for us, aren’t ya? Soaking my fingers just for being spanked, told you she likes it rough, Stevie.” Eddie pushes his fingers fully inside of your walls, thumb toying with your clit, so agonizingly slow that you bite down on the pillow, incoherent babbles leaving your lips.

You need this punishment to be over so that you can have both of them, it’s so pathetically overwhelming and teasing that you don’t even realize what you’re begging for, just when you’re about to push back on his fingers again, the roughest slap comes, and you cry out at the impact.

You’re sure your ass is practically burning now, but it feels so good that you’ve basically already melted into the sheets, body feeling frail with how turned on you really are. And, thankfully this was the last.

“Five!” You wail out with excitement filling your tummy, Eddie’s fingers slip outside of you with that, you’re too fucked out to register any of it, the pain subsiding and fast to turn into pleasure when Steve is kneading your firey flesh, it has you feeling so painfully empty that you’re looking at Steve with pouty lips and a desperate gaze.

“Good girl,” Steve praises, pressing a sloppy kiss on your bruised skin, and you whimper at the cold feeling, cheeks fluttering at the much needed praise.

“N—need more, please,” you mutter, it’s a long shot, and by the way they’ve both been so mean, you knew neither their teasing nor the punishment was going to end soon. But, fuck, were you desperate.

Steve barks out a laugh, it’s evil, and just as mocking as you’d expect, but not from Steve. Eddie looks almost as surprised, but so very proud, because both of you want this dynamic to work, and for Steve to be in this as much as the two of you are, and it looks like it’s finally working.

“So fuckin’ mouthy today, aren’t ya?” He coaxed, picking you up to roll you over to the bed, hands grabby before he turned to Eddie.

“I think we should put those pretty lips to use, baby, what do y’think?” Steve quipped, gazing at Eddie with the need for approval, and Eddie’s cock stirred at the both of you.

Steve submitting to him, still taking a bit of control to dominate you. Fuck, this was exactly what he wanted.

“Get on all fours for your daddies, pretty girl,” Steve hummed, leaving a playful smack on your already marked-up ass while you yelped, pussy clenching around on nothing.

“Do you know how fucking hot you are when you order her around like this?” Eddie groaned, his hand gathering curls at the nape of his neck, gripping it tightly to pull him in for a kiss, all teeth, and no mercy. Greedily sucking at each other’s tongues, ignoring all of your squirming.

You’re so unbelievably wet and you need something, anything. Seeing the two boys kiss is not doing you any good, so you just mewl with such desperation that both of them break apart from the kiss with a dark gaze.

“I said all fours,” Steve hisses, but you pout, struggling to stand while your hands are tied behind your back, and your body is wrapped around the lights, making your skin glow in the best way possible.

“Aww, can’t do it on your own, sweetheart?” Eddie taunts with a pout, and you’re quick to nod.

“You need our help, baby?”

“P—please,” you muttered, almost embarrassed.

“You want your daddies to fill all your holes is that it, slut?” You nodded vigorously.

“Don’t be a fuckin’ brat, speak up,” Steve chimed in.

“Y—yes, please, please I need both of you, need both of you to fuck me, please—” your rambling was cut off by Eddie’s dark chuckle.

“God, so fuckin’ desperate, should we give her what she wants, Stevie?” He nodded off toward Steve, a mocking pout on his lips.

“I do want to punish her more… but I also need that pretty little mouth wrapped around my cock, she’s been too mouthy lately, don’t ya think, Munson?” Steve groaned loudly at the thought.

“Mhmm, and I should fuck her pathetic little pussy, show her who really owns her, yea?” Eddie grinned toward you.

“You definitely should, does she think she can make herself cum better than we do?” Steve asked tauntingly.

“N—no I don’t! P—please need both of you s’bad, ‘m sorry, I won’t touch myself again, daddies, I promise,” you cried out, desperate, enough to have both of their cocks ache with the need to fuck you.

“You’ll be sorry, sweetheart, we’ll make sure of it.” Both of them were quick to get rid of their clothes, joining you on the bed, Eddie holding you by your hips, and Steve steadying you by your shoulders, both sets of angry red tips facing your holes. Eagerness ignites a fire in your entire body.

“God, I was going to stretch you out a little bit, but look at you sweetheart, practically gushin’ for me and we barely did anything.” Eddie grins, fingers toying with your soaked clit, and you whimper loudly, looking up at Steve with hooded eyes, excitedly waiting to get what you were promised for, your entire body feels like it’s on fire, everywhere they touch burns, and you want nothing more than to have them fuck you, anywhere and everywhere.

Steve barely jerked his erected cock before he dragged it over your lips, smearing his beaded pre-cum all over, mixing with your gloss. Starving, you were quick to lick it all away, that salty taste coated your tongue and you hummed.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He almost lost it there and then.

“God, she’s soakin’ my fingers, Stevie.” Eddie moaned, relishing in the squelching sounds your pussy made the more his fingers entered inside of you.

“Please,” you whispered, desperately pushing back on his fingers, trying to get more.

You turned your head as best as you could. “Please, daddy. Fuck me.” Your tone was sultry, making Eddie groan.

“And, please, fuck my mouth daddy, I deserve it,” you muttered, this time faux innocent gaze at Steve’s, his mouth hanging open, eyes lulling as he looked down on you.

With a slight groan, “Open up,” he ordered, and you opened your mouth eagerly, while he dragged his aching cock inside, watching the way you quickly wrapped your lips around his length, sucking on it greedily.

“Her mouth is heavenly, Munson, you need to fuck her while I’m fuckin’ her mouth,” Steve groaned loudly when you bobbed up and down.

“Open her up, Eddie, really fuck her, use her like the little slut she is.” That was all the encouragement Eddie needed, his fingers left your hole with a slick sound, emptiness making you whine around Steve’s cock.

You didn’t have much time, or even the space to complain with Steve’s cock hammered into your mouth. You couldn’t see Eddie but you could feel him shift behind you, his hot tip teasing against your entrance, pre-cum smearing all over your clit, making you whimper crazily around Steve’s cock, driving him further into a pleasure he didn’t know existed.

You were at your fucking limit. Only when the head of his cock teased against your slit that you let out a sigh of relief. He pushed his cock inside, the hold he had on your waist was bruisingly rough.

He pushed and pushed his way inside, cock slipping easily through your soaked folds.

Shit, shit, shit.

It always amazed you how fucking big and thick he was, stretching you out in every way possible.

His groans were guttural, and so were Steve’s, especially when his hands wrapped around your hair halting his cock into your mouth, realizing you were too fucked out to do it properly.

“So sloppy when you get your holes filled,” Steve tutted, “fucking love it when you go all dumb on our cocks like this, such a perfect little cock sleeve for us, aren’t you? Just waiting to be used by your daddies, hmm?” He hummed, eyes stuck on you when he yanked you by your hair again, pumping his cock further into your mouth.

You whimpered in an attempt to nod, crying out once Eddie pushed in deeper inside of you, cunt clamping around him and so very willing. Your pussy was his.

And you felt full, so fucking full.

“Shit, shit, fuck! She’s so fuckin’ warm and tight, Steve.” Eddie grunted, voice ragged, his weight on top of you, as he poised all the way inside of you, and you tried your best to adjust to his cock. But, fuck, did he always stretch you out, make you feel all of him.

“Jesus, baby, look how perfectly your holes are taking our cocks, it’s like you were made for us, huh?” Steve almost growled, fucking your mouth with ease while he enjoyed the way you gagged around his cock, tear-streaked cheeks, and looking up at him with those alluring eyes.

All three of you were about to fucking lose it. It was all too much, all so fucking good, making your body feel like jelly while they manhandled you in the best way possible.

He slammed into you rougher, not stopping until he was sure you were full of him, same with Steve, filling you all the way in. You felt achy in the best way possible, and their grunts sounded lewd and angelic at the same time.

He pulled out and slammed back in. Just as brutal but his hips picked up speed, the more he fucked into you, the more you took Steve into your mouth. Creating the perfect harmony between the three of you.

You felt like you were going to explode, mind going hazy with everything. And of fucking course Eddie could tell, with the way you were squirming, thighs shuddering, and your tender pussy gripping his dick nicely.

Your mewls and whines were muffled by Steve’s cock slammed down your throat. “Shit, honey, are you gonna cum already?” Eddie asked with a low groan.

You nodded, as best as you could with Steve’s hold, eyes pleading, begging, so fucking desperate that neither of them wanted to hold you off.

Besides, your punishment wasn’t edging tonight.

“Pretty girl, cum for us, baby, soak Eddie’s dick,” Steve grunted, teeth grinding together, just barely holding all of it. It was making him feral watching the way Eddie’s thick cock plunged into you, while you took his cock into your mouth, like the good fucking girl you were.

He almost looked at Eddie for approval, and he nodded quickly. “Cum for us, sweetheart.” His words were all the encouragement you needed. Muffled noises tumbled from your mouth as Eddie’s cock hit spots you didn’t even know existed and brought you over the edge. Your orgasm ripped through you, pussy shuddering around Eddie’s cock.

“Our perfect girl, cumming just from us using your holes, shit,” Steve cursed, desperate to give you all of his load, make sure you never spilled a fucking drop of it.

“God, she’s so fuckin’ tight when she cums, Steve, don’t think I’m gonna last,” Eddie growled, his thrusts dramatic, enough to have the bed creaking with a squeaky noise.

“Come with me, baby, let’s fill her up at the same time, hmm?” Steve grunted.

“Yeah, you’d like that, baby? You’d want your daddies to fill all your holes?” He taunted with your chin in his hands, Eddie’s rough hold on you was making it harder to focus, you just came but you simultaneously needed more. They were so fucking addicting.

“Shit, you’re so fuckin’ perfect, sweetheart, I’m gonna fuckin—” Eddie rambled, so deep inside of you that you whimpered around Steve’s cock, making him grunt like a madman.

“Me too, Munson, shit!”

“Gonna give you so much of my cum you’ll never get it out of you, princess, fuck!” It was a promise, his thrusts were brutal, bruising, and fucking divine.

“S—shit baby, I’m—fuck! I wanna see you swallow all of my load, not one fuckin’ drop—oh fuck!” Steve added.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Both of them yelled in almost perfect sync. Thick cum filled inside of your walls and shot down your throat, it looked like Steve was too fucked out to tell you to swallow, and you beat him to it, sucking him dry with an exaggerated humming sound.

Eddie was still unloading inside of you, seed spilled so deeply that it made you feel so warm, making his eyes roll to the back of his head. Both of their cocks and cum filling your holes, darkened gazes staring down at you, and it felt fucking amazing.

You loved the little praises, the ‘good girl’ and ‘perfect girl’ they uttered before they placed thousands of kisses over your skin. Yet, you were nowhere near done, no, this was just a little taste. And you were hungry.

“A—are you going to untie me now?” You asked, unwillingly, bringing that desire spark back into both of their gaze in an instant.

“Oh, sweetheart, you thought we were done?” That mocking voice was back like it never left, and you couldn’t help the way excitement pooled your tummy again. Shit, they were fucking good.

“You wanted to cum, didn’t you? We’ll make sure you’ll cum, over and over, creaming our cock till you physically fucking can’t anymore.” Steve added, both of them grinning like a Cheshire cat, knowing there was so much more to your punishment.

#eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #steddie x reader #eddie munson imagine #steve harrington imagine

685 notes · View notes

dilfs-bitch · 2 years ago

Text

Ralnga' | Neteyam (NSFW)

Pairing: Neteyam Te Suli x Fem Omatikaya reader

Word count : 5k

Summary: You do everything in your power to get out of an arranged marriage, but it ends up arousing the fury of the Omatikaya prince.

Warnings: Characters inexperienced, p in v sex, degradation kink, angst, arranged marriage, dom Neteyam (slightly) rough sex, hair pulling, biting, some mentions of blood, use of the word bitch in a derogatory sense, choking, aged up Neteyam ( 22) dirty talk, nsfw.

Sorry if there are any spelling mistakes. English is not my first language.

Image its not mine, credits to the ower.

The golden child of the Sully family.

The prince of the Omatikaya clan who left unmated females breathless every time he strutted through the village with the swagger of a future chief.

The passionate gazes and sighs of many who once dreamed of being his future Tsahik, yet that fate has been forced upon you since you were a child.

Everyone in the clan knew who his future mate would be, and yet many didn't seem to care especially since he reached adulthood, his slender body now had so much muscle, his voice was much deeper and more authoritative, his once youthful face now had features of a man, who was wanted wherever he went except for you.

That wanted since the day your parents decided that arranged marriage would be good for the clan, that before the ceremony, Neteyam would fall in love with someone who would make him give up that engagement.

But a warrior as noble as he would never do that.

That's how that ugly feeling grows inside you towards him, it was no longer enough to be forced into an arranged engagement, your hopes of getting rid of it slowly died every day because he never seemed to be interested in anyone, because he was always focused on perfectly executing every task he was given, focused on being so kind and affectionate whenever he was with you.

Just the thought made you snort impatiently rolling your eyes, such a human gesture learned from Kiri having your whole life been so close to the Sully's, adoring each one of them like your own family, except the eldest son.

Maybe that was even why the elders thought that arranged marriage would be profitable, but did that have to be him? Even Lo'ak being your future mate seemed like a better idea, it sure was, the boy was much more fun, cheeky, cocky when he needed to be, butted heads with anyone just like his father, but Neteyam? He was so dull, always serious and moody, taking anyone's orders without hesitation, always so kind and what fun was that?

Certainly none for you who never wanted a mate and much less a man like him.

Sometimes you even wondered if you were the problem considering how many Na'vi wanted to mate with him. Maybe Neteyam even had its attractions, but that anger you've felt since learning you'd be mated to him clouded your judgment of him.

“ Yawne ? ” Are you listening to me? “. He says, his big hand squeezing your shoulder gently.

“ I was lost in my thoughts, what did you say? “

Neteyam's brows furrow, and his ears flatten, his gaze lingering on your face which has a visibly annoyed scowl and he swallows hard at the thought that this was his fault, although now a gentle smile adorns his face when he pushes those thoughts away by convincing himself that the day has just been tiring so far.

His heart flutters in his chest at the familiar warmth of your hand now against his, so small in comparison to his own. “ Meet me today, at our spot after the eclipse Yawne ”

Our spot was a small waterfall he found a few years ago, deep in the forest, the place is breathtakingly beautiful, one of the most beautiful places you'd ever seen in the vast forest that surrounded you since was a child, but spending time with Neteyam there it was almost torturous and yet you smile nodding satisfied the man in front of you who smiles proudly leaving a soft kiss on the top of your forehead before walking away from the area where you collected herbs to Tsahik.

His breathing is heavy with each agilely step he takes, his braids swaying back and forth clouding his vision for mere seconds each time his heels hit the sandy ground beneath his feet.

His fist is clenched so tightly that his knuckles are almost white with anger, which bubbles up in his chest at once again being left waiting.

Because he waited during the entire eclipse until the rays of sunlight began to illuminate the running water that flowed down from the great mossy rocks of that waterfall that day he found deep in the forest.

Neteyam still remembered exactly how he found that place

Sweat trickled from his hairline in Pandora's heat, his mouth was dry and his body begged to go back to the village.

The soft moss that grew on the ground gave some kind of comfort to the soles of his feet that ached for he had been going deeper into the forest for so long clinging to some thread of hope that that day he would finally find a special place so that he could take his mate there.

Just the thought of her made a genuine smile appear on his face and his heart pounding in his chest that suddenly seemed to beat at a much stronger frequency when he saw the waterfall in front of him, it was the most beautiful place he had ever seen, on the rocks grew species of plants he had never seen, such an intense blue was the perfect contrast with the green of the plants that surrounded the lake of warm water that was drunk by several hexapedes, it was as beautiful as Y/n and he was sure she would love that place.

After so many days, it was worth get in deeper into the jungle just to find the perfect spot for her.

The thought made his stomach churn, his anger now redirected towards himself.

How could he have been so foolish all these years? Always pushing himself harder than he should, always hunting the biggest Sturmbeest and cooking for you the best meal, weaving the prettiest jewelry and clothes and all that to be thanked with a not-so-convincing smile and yet, he pushed those feeling away of ingratitude that sank his chest settling for whatever you gave him.

There were so many nights where he waited in that place only for you to apologize the next day saying you were too busy at Tsahik's tent, and each time he forgave you with a smile on his face, but the lack of apologies this time in the next morning left him fed up with everything.

The words were stuck in his throat, stealing his breath, begging to be said when he stepped in the entry of your tent.

His ears twitch at the sound of your familiar laugh, on other days it would warm his heart, but now the sound of your laughter curls inside him conjured daggers so sharp that left his heart bleeding, sunk in the sadness of your coldness of not even caring if he was still alive, the rage now succumbs to his body dilating his nostrils leaving behind any trace of that kind and attentive Neteyam that now disregards any kind of education entering your hut abruptly without bothering to greet Ya'nut and Tun'ti who quickly feel the tension in the air leaving you two alone the.

“ I'm so- ”

" Be quiet " He snaps before you can finish your sentence, close the flap of your tent and turning to glare at you, his lips a thin line. “ I'm tired of you looking down on me even when I've tried all these years to make myself a good potential mate, but that stops today”.

Your hands stop arranging the herbs and medicines along the shelf that Neteyam himself had made, the words have barely left his lips, and your heart is racing, beating desperately in happiness against the chest, the corner of your lips has a smile from the sudden relief that takes over your body it's like Eywa has finally heard your prayers all those years getting you out of that arranged marriage.

The feeling of freedom flowing through your body is so addictive that suddenly confidence rises in your body, quickly abandoning your good girl act that you so graciously pretended to be in front of the entire clan, who was happy with an arranged marriage that barely couldn't wait to mate with the future Olo'eyktan before Ewya.

“ Come, we should tell our parents that you give up then ”

You pass by him trying to hide the smile on your face, but before your hand can reach the knots that close the flap of your tent, your eyes widen and your body is pulled back, an almost desperate scream comes out of your now parted lips with the strong tug on your braids hair.

The sound perked up Neteyam's ears as he smiled, not the gentle smile he always had on his lips it's a sneer, a different kind of smile just like his own features that although he couldn't see it, he swore it was dark, because the cry of pain that leaves your lips ignites a flame in his heart that clouds his own thoughts as he drags you deeper into the hut by your braids, nearly undone by how tightly he's gripping a handful of hair.

His eyes light up and his ears twitch at the sound of your whimpering voice as he stops, forcing your body to kneel on the mat and Neteyam squats down, his muscular body towering over your that seems so small, the sight makes his heart felt like it was crumbling, being crushed under the happiness of finally feeling in control of the situation because now you were the one feeling inferior under his sneering gaze that had his brows furrowed and teeth clenched.

" Give up? No, today I'm going to teach you a lesson Yawne "

You sigh at the sound of his voice, as you take a deep breath through a wave of nausea, swallowing the saliva that pools in your mouth at how suddenly the endearing name now sounds strange on his tongue, it was more like a threat and your body shivers with instant regret for keeping him waiting all night.

An irritated snarl escapes his lips as you try to stand up only to suddenly have your back bumping against the treadmill mat, and your eyes widen at the grip on your throat of his hand making it difficult to breathe, his body muscled now hovering over yours who is cowering from the intense sensation that makes your head spin, the words are stuck in your throat though your mouth opens nothing comes out it's only Neteyam's chuckles in a low, gravelly echo as he loosens his grip on your throat that coughs as you breathe in the air so eagerly.

" St-stop it ". You swallow your saliva, fighting your words, crawling away from him.

But your body quickly goes still, it's a single tear that rolls from your amber eye at the sting that leaves the skin on the back of your thighs itching, your pointy ears ringing from the pain that shoots up your spine with a shivering itch every hair on the back of your neck and you choke on your own spit at the realization that he's given you a few smacks on your thigh.

Your thoughts is clouding as yout body shivers as you feels his hand quickly circling your thin tail, it's an intense sensation of heat flowing through your lower belly as Neteyam lifts the fist that he's curling with your tail lifting your hips up and the scream that was trapped in your throat comes out more like an inaudible moan at the strange but pleasurable sensation that flows through the base of your spine when he growls, his nostrils flaring breathing in your natural scent that suddenly flows throughout the tent, it's so intense that his own pupils dilate leaving only a thin layer of amber in his almost completely black eyes, his heart pounding in his chest as his muscular body curves over your.

" Oh, yes " He hums rubbing his face against the sweat-wet skin of your arched back. “ This whole time and you only feel this way when I'm being rude? ”

You shake your head deny more to yourself than to him, trying to convince yourself that your body's reaction was just the instinct of Na'vi females sensing his potential as a mate, submitting to the urge to breed, nullifying all contempt that you've felt for him your whole life.

However, your breathing is breathless feeling his body pressed so close to yours in that position that felt so intimate, like the intense desire that puts you in a trance to mate with him, it's overwhelming in how suddenly the scent of wet forest that radiates from his body leaves little noises coming out of your parted lips, begging for something you don't know what it is, and the thought of it makes your body tense, trying to slowly pull away from Neteyam's body heat only for him to pull your body back by your tail, your heart pounding in your ears with the shivers of your body totally stunned by the way he keeps his grip.

" Let me go, it hurts " You hiss.

" You're sure? ” He chuckles huskily pulling the base of your tail arching your back even more. " This your bitch in heat scent of yours tells me otherwise "

He sneers, repeating the english words he once heard his father say, but he gasps slightly when he feels you forcing your ass against his groin and he lets out a guttural growl, sliding his hand to your hips to squeeze them hard moving his hips against yours who sighs looking over your shoulder watching his sweaty skin, flushed cheeks, ears down and his facial expression, dark, lustful, that makes your sex clench around nothing begging to be filled by Neteyam that slides his tongue against the skin of your back bucking his hips into yours harder.

And you bite your bottom lip to try to contain the moan stuck in your throat, afraid to admit your own thoughts aloud regarding your future mate who seems so different from the other times turning you on with his overpowering pheromones almost putting you in heat , because now your nipples are hard rubbing against the colorful feathers of your top and it pisses you off, the idea that he's the one making you feel like this makes your stomach churn, not understanding why until a few minutes ago you were beaming with happiness that thought he was going to back out of that engagement, but now the mere thought of it makes the jealousy cloud your vision at the thought of him claiming another woman as his other than you.

“ Teyam please ”

It's with that thought that you give in to your animalistic urges, to want to be claimed by him, to cover your body in his scent and you do this by rubbing your clothed pussy against the growing bulge under the thin wet cloth of his loincloth for his own pre cum, but Neteyam just growls, his hand that was on your waist comes down hard on your ass making that side of your hip tingle and the corners of your eyes water, and he repeats this movement again and again until the blue skin turn an almost purple color, until tears rolls over your face contorted with pain, pleasure and frustration for not understanding why he continues to be so rude, but that's the point.

Neteyam is so bothered to the point of continuous grunt because can't understand why all those years he could only get the pet name to come out of your lips now, when he was being rude, mistreating you, but it leaves him… -so horny that his throbbing cock is begging to be released now from the uncomfortable tightening of his own loincloth.

“ Say that again ” He sighs finally loosening the grip on your tail which is now swinging from side to side.

You say through groans, rubbing yourself against the hardness under his loincloth. “ Please Teyam, please mate with me.”

He closes his eyes, his breathing now heavy still trying to assimilate the fact that his future mate not only repeated the words he order but also said those words that he dreamed so much of hearing from your lips, damn it he dreamed awake so many nights while he waited in that spot.

Neteyam could even imagine it perfectly, the noise of the waterfall and the nocturnal animals of Pandora while you were dressed in that top he had woven for you that only covered your nipple, he could even perfectly imagine the sight of you looking at him through your eyelashes smiling shyly asking him to mate with you, maybe that was even why he got so angry because the last night he planned everything, the place, the fruits and flowers that you loved so much because he felt ready, ready to finally move on that phase of just gentle kisses on your lips, he wanted to mate, wanted to know what it would feel like to be buried so deep inside a woman, inside you.

But now everything looks much better.

" Yes " He growls, shoving his hand between your legs covered, slick with your arousal. “ I'll mate with you here and now, would you like that? ”

“Yes, Teyam, mark me as yours”. You moan, tugging at the band of your loincloth.

Impatient, he groans giving in to his primal desires, tearing the fragile fabric that covers your breasts, the beads that adorned it fall spreading across the mat, your ears twitch feel his warm, large and callused hand on your soft skin, when he starts fondle your right breast. His length twitch uncontrollably with the desire he's always felt to touch them finally come true, it's soft, warm and wet from the sweat trickling down your hairline down your neck disappearing between the valley of your breasts, your cheek now resting against mat, trying to control the sighs that come out of your lips from the pleasure that flows through your belly as you feel him rolling your hard nipples between his fingers, you moan softly pushing your ass into his groin .

Your core pulsing, your neglected clit is aching begging for something more as he tries to pull away, but your tail coil his muscled thighs that makes him cocky, assuming you really are lusting after him to the point your body doesn't want to stay away from his heat even for mere seconds.

" I want more ". You purr, your cunt clenching in anticipation.

He moans in wonder at the purr that vibrates from your chest, his animalistic thrusts clouding any sober thoughts of him as he rips off your loincloth, throwing the tattered cloth to the side, his hands now squeeze your hips as Neteyam rubs his now covered cock hard on your bare cunt making you gasp, whimpering in desperation to feel him inside because just the friction on your clit doesn't seem enough, not enough to control your arousal it seems leave his head spinning, as the room moves swiftly around him, he feels intoxicated by the scent of your, by the moans that come out of your parted lips, you want him as much as he wants you it's with that thought he digs his nail into your hips when he undoes the knot of his loincloth in the base of his tail.

He jolt at the raw friction on his sensitive cock as it springs up slapping against your ass, his stomach churns at the heat flowing through his belly at the sight of his pre-cum leaking the bulbous tip that's the perfect contract with your skin almost purple blue from the smacks.

It's at that moment Neteyam forgets why he was there in the first place, to teach you a lesson, make you respect him, desire him as your future mate, but now he's lost in his own pleasure, watching with his mouth open as the you crawl forward just enough for his cock to now sit between the heat of your thighs, rubbing against your clit as you bucks into his hips back and forth.

He is in pure ecstasy, tilting his head back slightly concentrating on the pleasure that although not what he so badly desires is still better at his own hands, his ears are flat against his head in embarrassment at the memory of all the times he has toched himself in the solitude of his tent after a hard day, relieving his frustrations stroking his cock thinking about what it would be like if it were your small, soft hands doing it, but now he swears this is so much better.

“ Is it good Teyam? “ You ask between moans bringing him back to reality.

He growls between moans and breath breathless" Could be better "

Your heart feels like it's caving in, being crushed under the pressure of the weight of his single word, 'could be better', and he looks at you with furrowed brows, big eyes shining, chuckles in reaction at the mean words that came out of his lips. Neteyam now curves his body over yours once more, rubbing his face against your shoulder before biting hard, making you cry out in pain beneath him stopping your movements because it feels so good your sex tightens around nothing, the moisture trickling down your thigh mixing with his precum making your thighs sticky.

His fangs finally leave your bloodstained skin, his hand finds the base of your tail, gripping it tightly, lifting your hips again, the wetness of your arousal now against the hot skin of his groin, his fingers prods at your slick entrance.

“Clenching so tightly around nothing, did I make you feel like this? “ He asks, a smirk playing on his lips before quickly sliding two fingers into it.

Groaning at your wetness the feel of his fingers inside you that had your brows furrowed trying to crawl, running away from the discomfort, pain his fingers bring and his smirk drops quickly, his heart racing in his chest at the thought that you still haven't had mated to no one, perhaps waiting for the day of the ceremony where you two would become one before Ewya.

“ Who would have thought that you would be waiting to mate only with me ”.

He teases, looking at you with piercing eyes, ramming two fingers even deeper into your slippery cunt which clenches with the pleasurable sensation that replaces the pain before, mixed with the tone he uses to make your back arch even more when you feel him curling his fingers, stroking the inside in a torturously slow rhythm that has all four of your toes curling as a moan escapes your lips, your eyes rolling back in the pleasure that races down your spine as he growls pulling your tail.

“Oh, I-I… it's so good, b-you… fuck, aren't you too? “ You babble, feeling your eyes fill with tears at how good his fingers are.

A high confidence fills him as he hears you say those words, his mind clouding with your loud, desperate moans each time he continues a few more times he pulls them out of you cunt taking his fingers to his mouth, savoring the last of your taste in his tongue. Lifting your hips enough by the grip on your tail lines himself up with your slick entrance so that the tip of his cock against your entrance, instantly thrusting almost his full length into you when that dig your nails into the mat trying to get used to the sensation to finally be filled.

“ You don't think it's that important, do you? ”

For a minute you feel something new blossom in your heart, something that Neteyam has never made you feel before, something like jealousy that makes a snarl leave your lips at the thought that he had become intimate with a woman other than you, the possessiveness has you gripping his forearm scratching his sweaty skin so hard he hisses in pain and pleasure as he starts to thrust into you, setting a lazy rhythm to his thrusts, pushing his pelvis against your ass burying himself deep inside you as possible, before halfway out and filling you up again with his cock.

Just as he remembered listening at that conversation from years ago hidden behind a tree, listening to the things his father and the most skilled warriors talked about when they were drunk, Neteyam committed every word to memory for the day he finally mated with a woman who he was in love, he yearning to gave her as much pleasure as he felt, exactly as he was doing now.

The hard slaps of skin against skin resonating throughout the hut mingled with the pathetic moans of your lips as you grip his forearm tightly shoving your hips into his, he's startled, lips between his teeth to keep from escaping a moan stuck in his throat at your obscene, insistent body language, grinding against him, the squelching noises of your cunt permeating the air.

“ Mmnh… ah, deeper, please Ma' Teyam”. You beg, sighing breathlessly between moaning.

He moans as he feels his cock bumping against your cervix, your body writhing beneath his, his tail swaying back and forth content with the words coming out of your mouth, it seems unreal to hear you call him that while begs him to go deeper, it's so overwhelming that he feels like his heart is going to stop beating any minute because suddenly everything seems too much, its too much to feel you pressing against him sighing between moans that consists only moaning his name when he thrusting into you like the sweetest of songs, mating with him because you want to it and begging for it and so good that his legs almost give out, as he purrs frees his hand from your tail only to bring it down onto your ass in a hard slap.

That screams with the tears that form at the corners of your eyes as the sensation of his now wildly, falter thrusts the walls of your cunt clench around him tighten around him almost becoming too much for him.

“You are mine now”. He whispers in you ear as his hand snakes around to your front so he can grip onto your throat, feeling your breath hitch underneath his fingers when he squeeze down, you whimper in a pathetic display of submission. " Say it "

You shake your head weakly, that would be too much, it would be too much to say when you still didn't want that arranged marriage, you still didn't want that Nateyam, who suddenly seems so attractive, so handsome that the irrational part of you desperately wanted him to be only yours. Tears well up in your eyes from the lack of air, which causes a strange feeling inside you, and you let out a silent cry as your body approaches orgasm with the stimulation of his fingers on your clit.

“ I'm yours, your vonvä ” You gasp. “ Only yours Teyam”

A sick satisfaction washes over Neteyam at your words. Ewya, he knows you'd hate it if he actually knocked you up, but your submission takes him totally over the edge. His hand releases your throat as he fucks you a few more times, a guttural growl coming out of his chest groaning as his his cum paint the slick walls of your cunt which are so sensitive in search of your own orgasm and he smirk watching you try when his fingers stop the stimulation on your clit, the lewd sounds coming from your used pussy seeps his cum.

He circles your clit a little more precisely, the pressure in your lower belly becomes immense, it's like ecstasy, flooding your body as it shudders beneath his, screaming you let out a hoarse moan, throwing your head back as your entire body shudders under his control finally succumbing to the orgasm that leaves your vision dark, your body relaxing at the pleasurable sensation.

A silence falls as you both pant, his muscular body slumping as his knees give way, putting all his weight onto your body that is now lying on the mat, eyes closed and heavy breathing trying to establish the normal rhythm of your breaths heartbeat that now seems to beat at a much stronger rate than normal with the thought that even without tsaheylu, even without being in front of Ewy you are now mated.

With a man you're now not so sure would still prefer you over all those Na'vi who practically begged to be mated, however that fate has naturally been accepted by you now.

“ Will you mate with me now? “. You hold his hand, wrapping it in yours. “ I mean before Ewya”

“ You're mine, aren't you ?” The words roll off his tongue before he even has a chance to process them. “ I'll mate with you before Ewya and make the bond for life, I'll make you my Tsahik, but only if you want it ”.

You take a moment to answer, not out of uncertainty but because the words are stuck in your throat, his warm breath blowing against your neck now that he's nuzzled his face there, inhaling you natural scent, licking the pulse point until you moan softly.

“ Yes Ma'Teyam, I want to ”

1K notes · View notes

ghostxrose · 7 months ago

Note

Thanks for answering my request so fast! Nobody's answered me so fast, even if you didn't write anything. It's fine, though!! Maybe I'll change my request? How about, an angst (of course) where female reader and Bakugou are married and have kids (doesn't matter how much or how old) but it turns out, Bakugou has been cheating (angst ending pls, unless you don't want) on Yn for a while now?

Ive been looking for something like this recently but never found it!

Thanks! 😘😘

𝑬𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | 𝑩𝒂𝒌𝒖𝒈𝒐 𝑲𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒊 & 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

Note ~ Thank you so much for the ask, Lovely! I'm sorry that it took so long for me to answer, but I hope that I executed the idea well. If I'm being honest, I had some trouble with this idea. Cheating isn't something I write about, but I hope that you get your fill of angst, haha.. Anyway, much love and appreciation, Lovely!

You gaze out of the window of your parent’s dining room, gently rocking the half asleep one-year-old in your arms. It’s warm and sunny outside, but even the sun’s rays can’t melt away the cold feeling at the back of your mind of something being off. Life has been going well, you have everything you could ever want, but still that voice of intuition won’t quit its whispering.

“He hasn’t been with you three when you’ve come by for these lunches in ages. Your father and I just miss seeing our son-in-law, that’s all, hunny.” Your mother says with a touch of concern in her tone.

“He’s the country’s Number Two Hero, Mom. He has a busy schedule and he’s exhausted during his days off.” You say, giving her the same tired excuse that you’ve been giving her for nearly a year now.

Your gaze shifts to the bubbly three-year-old giggling and babbling nonsense to your father. A small smile pulls at your lips and something in your chest warms while simultaneously aching.

Truthfully, Katsuki has barely had time for the three of you. Your poor husband is always either out on the streets fighting demented villains or ends up staying late at his office drowning in paperwork. It’s put a bit of a strain of your relationship, but you know that he can’t do much about his work schedule, so you tough it out.

As much as you would have liked for him to come with you to your parent’s house today, you had seen just how exhausted he was. So you told him to spend his day off resting while you and the kids were out of the house for the day. He had asked multiple times if you would be fine handling them, if you were sure about him staying home. He knows that being a stay at home mom can be draining at the very least and you appreciate him wanting to help out. But you had reassured him over and over that you would be fine and told him to just relax as much as he could.

You can admit to yourself that you have been feeling frazzled these days.. It’s no easy task for one person to take care of a rambunctious three-year-old along with a fussy one-year-old. But you do it every day with a smile, even if some days that smile is a bit forced or strained.

“I know, hun,” your mother says softly, walking up to you with a warm smile on her face. She looks down and coos quietly at the sleeping baby in your arms. A more easy smile graces your face and you follow your mother to the couch to sit down.

You talk with your parents for a few more hours. It’s all general conversation and talks about taking the kids out to fun places. You feel slightly more sane on days like this, days where there’s other adults to talk with. Even chatting about mundane things like the weather feels good compared to the constant drone of kids cartoons and baby cries.

You love your kids, of course you do. They’re both the perfect mix of you and Katsuki in looks and personalities. Starting a family had been something you and Katsuki had talked about for a long time after you started dating. When your first child had been born the joy and light in your husband’s eyes was unmatched to any other feeling.

Admittedly, your second child had been an accident.. The result of the night Katsuki had been named Number Two. A night which you hardly remember except that you both had too much champagne and you forgot to take your birth control. But your second child entered the world with a warm and loving welcome from you and Katsuki.

You look over at the clock on the wall and let out a quiet sigh, “Looks like we should head out. It’s getting close to dinner time and I think Kats said he was going to make curry.”

“Alright, sweetie. We’ll help you load up the munchkins,” your father says as he stands up, your tired and fussy three-year-old sleepily clinging to him.

You buckle your one-year-old into their carrier, then grab the diaper bag. Your mother walks out of the kitchen with a container of spiced cookies, one of Katsuki’s favorites, and flashes you a smile. You give her an appreciative smile, then you all file out of the door to your car.

It’s a challenge for your father trying to buckle up your worn-out and inconsolable three-year-old, but the task gets completed. Once your kids are buckled in and everything has been secured in place you turn the car on, then make your way back to your parents. You hug them both, thank them for a nice day, and tell them you’ll try to get Katsuki to come with next time. By the time you slide into the driver’s seat of your car, your once inconsolable three-year-old is passed out and your one-year-old peacefully stares out the window.

The drive home is filled with you quietly humming along with the radio and trying to ignore the sudden and heavy feeling developing in the pit of your stomach. Your mind can’t provide a reason behind the feeling, so you just brush it off. You move with the flow of traffic until you eventually slow to pull into your driveway.

The security gate is already open and the feeling that’s been sitting like a rock in your stomach churns. Pulling up to the house the sight of an unfamiliar car parked in front of your garage is unavoidable. Your body begins to tremble as a million scenarios race through your mind, the top one being that somebody has broken into your home. You put your car in park, leaving it running but turning off the radio. A quick glance in your rear view mirror tells you that both of your children are sleeping.

Panic surges through you as you try to think about what to do. You pull your phone out of your purse and dial Katsuki’s number. It rings for what feels like forever until you get Katsuki’s voicemail. You try calling him a couple more times, but you keep getting his voicemail. Trying to school your breathing so that you don’t wake your children, you call Izuku and luckily he picks up on the first ring.

“Hey, Y/N! What’s up?” Izuku asks with his usual cheerfulness.

“Hey, Izuku. I’m, uhm, I’m kind of freaking out right now,” you say quietly, your eyes darting between your house and the view of your children in the rear view mirror.

“What’s going on?” Izuku’s tone quickly becomes serious and concerned.

“I-I just got home with the kids and the gate was open and there’s a car here that I’ve never seen before.. Katsuki isn’t answering his phone and I don’t know if he’s okay a-and I don’t know what-” Your words rush out of you and despite your best efforts your breathing picks up and tears sting at your eyes.

“I’m on my way right now, just stay in your car, okay? Do you have the doors locked?” There’s the sound of a door closing in the background as Izuku talks to you and a bit of relief fills you.

“Y-yeah.. What if.. what if Katsuki’s hurt, Izuku? What if a villain found out where we live o-or this is a robbery and they have weapons? I-I don’t.. I-I c-can’t..” You bring a hand up to muffle the cry that’s crawled up your throat and your watery eyes look into the mirror again.

“I’m almost there, Y/N. It’s all going to be okay. I’ll find out what’s going on and everything will be just fine.” Izuku tries his best to reassure you, but your stomach still churns with a now sickening feeling and all you can respond with is a weak “okay.”

It doesn’t take long for Iuzku’s car to tear into the driveway, your friend parking haphazardly a few feet away from you. He quickly gets out of his car and flashes you his signature smile before rushing to your front door. You watch him disappear inside and your emotions build up until you feel like you’re going to explode.

Suddenly, the front door is thrown open and a shaken-looking woman rushes out. Her hair is messy, her clothes look like hastily thrown on, and she looks a bit scared. She closes the door behind her and starts to head toward the car parked in front of your garage. Her eyes flit around until they land on your car, and your shocked gaze meets hers. The woman’s eyes widen and she practically runs to her car, quickly getting inside then peeling out of your driveway.

Your shocked mind suddenly goes blank and a numb-feeling spreads through your entire being. With one last look back at your sleeping babies, you get out of your car. You close the door of the running vehicle as slowly and quietly as you can. Mom-guilt about leaving your children in the car eats at the back of your mind as you make your way to the front door.

As soon as you open it you hear shouting coming from down the hall where your bedroom is at. You feel nauseous now and stomach acid burns at the back of your throat as you step further into the house.

“Don’t fucking tell her, Izuku! Sh-she doesn’t need to know! Th-the other women were just stress relief, I still love Y/N!” You hear Katsuki shout at Izuku and it takes conscious effort not to puke your shattered heart out.

You’re sure you’re wearing the same look of horrified shock as Katsuki when you get to the doorway of you and your husband’s bedroom. His is riddled with guilt, though, as your tear-filled eyes meet his. Izuku is at your side in an instant, letting you lean against him as your knees threaten to give out. The silence filling the room is tense, heavy, and suffocating as you take in your husband’s appearance. He’s nearly naked except for a pair of boxers, his hair is messier than usual, and he looks sweaty.

Your swallow dryly and straighten up, “Izuku, can the kids stay with you and Ochako for the night?” Your voice comes out surprisingly even given the situation.

“Y-yeah.. Y/N-” Izuku stutters in his reply, but you cut him off before he can speak further.

“Everything they should need is in the diaper bag in the back of my car. Call if there’s any problems or you guys need anything. Thank you.” You say a bit firmly as you fight to keep your composure.

Katsuki just stands there silently gaping and looking at you with an almost unreadable mix of emotions. You can’t help the trembling of your lip or the tears that continue to spill from your eyes as you stare right back at him. A horrible pain shoots through your chest and it really feels like you can feel your heart breaking. Izuku squeezes your shoulder before silently leaving and you wait until you hear the front door close before letting your composure crumble.

Gut-wrenching sobs are ripped from your chest and your legs finally give up on keeping you standing. You wail into your hands as painful heartbreak and rage consume you.

Katsuki arms are suddenly wrapping around you, “Y/N, baby, I-I’m so sorry! I-”

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You scream as you shove him off of you and crawl backwards away from him. “Take a fucking shower, then meet me out in the living room. I’m not talking to you in the same room you fucked other people! Unless you fucked them on the couch too?! You know what, I’ll be in the damn kitchen! It’s probably safe since you’ve refused to even fuck me in there!”

You’re quick to get up and leave the bedroom, slamming the door behind you before Katsuki could even get another word in. You sob as you make your way to the kitchen, the sight of half-eaten take out boxes sitting on the counter pushing you further over the edge. You barely make it to the trash before the contents of your stomach make their reappearance.

After cleaning yourself up and rinsing your mouth out with some water, you sit at the table and wait in the deathly silence. Too many thoughts run through your mind as you try to figure out if this is reality or not. Your mind supplies you with the reminder of how you noticed Katsuki’s behavior change not long after he had hit Number Two. How he seemed to have more late nights at the office during your second pregnancy, and even after the birth of your baby. How his days off were either spent here at the house by himself or the two of you doing your own things around the house.

The worst thought your mind supplied you is how rarely you were intimate with Katsuki anymore. You had just brushed it off as his sex-drive lowering because of the busy life you both lived. You never would have thought that he was getting his pleasure from other women while you were blissfully unaware and having to pleasure yourself..

You flinch at the sound of the bedroom door closing and your chest aches with every footstep approaching. The sound of the chair across from you being pulled away from the table makes you cringe as the feet of it scrape along the floor. You can feel Katsuki’s gaze on you, see his arms resting against the table top from your peripheral vision. You stare down at the spot on the table in front of you for another moment until you gather the courage to look him in the eyes.

“How long?” You ask quietly, your voice shaking.

Katsuki bites his bottom lip and his eyes shift down to his hands, “Please, Y/N.. I-I fucked up, I was a damn idiot, but please we can work-”

“How long, Katsuki? How long have you been screwing other women while I take care of our children? While I clean our house! While I do your laundry! How long have you been fucking other women in our bed while I’ve been playing loyal wife?!” You ask with such a bitterness and rage that Katsuki flinches.

“..it started a couple months after we found you were pregnant again.." Katsuki admits quietly, his fists clenched and guilt written all over his face.

You choke on a muffled sob and your mind surges back to to the first message you had gotten from him telling you that he was staying late at work. Every single other message flashes through your mind until you’re reminded that he eventually just stopped sending them and left you to assume.

“..Wh-why? Di-did I do something? Wh-when did I become not enough for you?” You ask brokenly as you wonder how your heart is still beating even though it feels like it should be failing.

“Baby.. Y/N, y-you didn’t do anything.. not on purpose. Y-Your body was so sensitive when you were pregnant, it seemed like every little touch caused you pain.. A-and your mood swings were so constantly changing and I didn’t want to take my frustration out on you because you were carrying my fuckin’ child, so I just bottled it up..” Katsuki tries to explain, but his excuses are poor at best and rage burns in your veins.

“So instead of talking to me about it, instead of having a conversation with your wife, you chose to cheat?” You ask incredulous and hurt.

Katsuki clenches his jaw, his tell-tell signs of anger appearing on his features, “It felt like my wife didn’t want me around, let alone touch me! So, yes, I took advantage of the fact that women willingly throw themselves at me and I got my rocks off that way!”

You flinch as if his words are physical blows and another sob tears from your chest, “You tore apart our lives just to get your dick wet? I am so sorry that my difficult pregnancy pushed you to such an option. I am so sorry that I was so sore that even wearing clothes hurt. I am so sorry that I was so full of hormones that the mood swings that made me feel like shit, made you feel so unwanted. I am so sorry, Katsuki, that carrying, birthing, then caring for both of your children forced you to go put your dick in other pussies!”

Katsuki lets out a frustrated growl, his own anger firing up, “Christ, Y/N, I’m sorry! I’ll be sorry for the rest of my fucking life! I’m sorry that I wasn’t better, but I can be better! I won’t touch another woman again, I promise you! We can work through this, I still love you, damn it!”

A dry, humorless laugh bubbles out of your mouth and you can’t breathe for a moment. Katsuki pants across from you, caught up in his emotion, and stares at you bewildered.

“You’ve made promises, Katsuki,” you spit once you’ve caught your breath. “You stood across from me at that damn alter five years ago, said the same vows that I did. We made the same promises for each other, but the difference now is that I upheld mine! We can’t work through this, I don’t trust you anymore! You’ve single-handedly burned us to the ground-”

“Don’t, baby, please! Don’t say what I think you’re gonna say,” Katsuki begs as he half stands from his chair to try to reach across the table for you.

You push away from the table, standing fully from your chair and looking at Katsuki with anger and hurt, “We’re done, Katsuki, I want a divorce. In the mean time, the kids and I will be staying at my parent’s house. Don’t bother wasting your efforts trying to fix the shit you’ve broken. We are done.”

You leave Katsuki half hunched over the table stunned with tears in his eyes. You rush to the bedroom and hastily throw articles of clothing into a suit case. You grab a couple pairs of shoes, then quickly leave the bedroom nearly running into your husb- Katsuki. You shove past him as he starts spilling apologies and pleas for you to stay. Every weak grasp on your arm or wrist is met with you wrenching yourself away from him.

Ripping open the front door you rush to your car, throwing your little bit of belongings into the back seat. You climb into the driver’s seat and turn the car on, taking the picture of you and Katsuki off of your sun visor and throwing out of the window. As you back your car up to turn it around, you catch sight of Katsuki one more time. He’s standing on the front porch with guilt, shame, and sadness on his face. Tears cascade down from the eyes that you used to find so beautiful and you have to will yourself not to put the car in park and go running back into his arms.

Your tires screech as you pull out of the driveway, but it doesn’t cover up the sound of you screaming your heart break at your windshield. Tears pour down your face and hinder your vision as you try to maneuver through traffic. You’re desperate to see your babies, to hug them and tell them that you love them and that you’re sorry for what their future is going to become. You’re also desperate for someone’s comfort, whether it be your parents or Izuku and Ochako. You need a shoulder to cry on, a pillow to scream into, and maybe a stiff drink or two.

As you scream, sob, beat your steering wheel, and drive a bit haphazardly, too many thoughts flood your mind. Why would he do this to you? How could he do this to you? Why weren’t you enough? What more could you have done? Is this all actually happening? Is this really your reality?

“This is my reality..” You say aloud hoarsely as you sit in your car looking at Izuku and Ochako’s front door. Your body is simultaneously numb and aching all over. Your mind has finally gone blank, but it’s in the worst way possible. Tears still roll down your face and you sniffle every now and then as you continue dazedly staring.

How is it that your entire world can shatter within the span of a day?

Note ~ Sorry if it wasn't angsty enough! But I hope that you stick around for future angst! I really cannot thank you enough for the ask/request, it means a lot to me that you'd want to reach out to me at all! My hope is to start interacting with my readers more, so I hope that others see this and want to follow your lead!

Hope you enjoyed the read and keep being amazing, Lovely! <3

Divider Credit ~ @rookthornesartistry

#bakugo brain rot #bakugo katuski #bnha bakugou #mha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou #bnha #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x you #mha #shasta rose asks #asks #request #writing requests #angst #hurt/angst #no comfort

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blackholesun321 · 27 days ago

Text

Shanks Doesn’t Have A Dream! And I Can Prove It!

Ok, y’all, can I talk my shit again? Because I have thoughts and feels about our good old one-armed favorite disaster of a party pirate, Akagami (Red-Haired) Shanks. I’m going to be completely honest: I may have had this rant before, but I can’t find it, and no one else has this take. I need to talk about my vision of him that I’m like 60/40 percent sure is correct canon-wise and would explain so many of his—let’s call them quirks.

I think one of Oda’s beliefs and the teachings that One Piece has so blatantly told us about, such as personal freedom, charting your own destiny, and making your own adventure along the way, are a reflection of Shanks’ character as someone who never got that chance and never would. That, to me, makes him one of the saddest characters in One Piece.

Let me cook here. I’m not going to cite anything because I don’t want to, and I do that enough already in college, so we’re running on trust me: I’ve read the manga and watched a lot of theory videos. So lock in because this is gonna be long.

Anyways, back to my thesis. Shanks is a character of contradictions. He was the youngest person to ever become a Yonko (but then Luffy came in), probably one of the strongest men of his generation. He regularly fought the world’s strongest swordsman for fun. He has a crew whose members each have over a million bounties on their own and are so physically or politically strong that they can stop a war in its tracks just by waltzing in and saying "stop." Not only that, he stopped Kaido in his tracks and made him turn around. His father was the Pirate King and claimed him as his successor; he could even be tied to the Celestial Dragons. He’s charismatic, and when things need to get done, he gets down to business.

On the other hand, he’s also a goofy guy who regularly gets blackout drunk, has a horrible sense of pant style, parties his life away, and thinks bullying kids is the height of comedy. He cares about his kid to the point that he forgets to be a responsible Yonko but also wants to fight him for the One Piece. He seems so blasé about everything but is obviously, in the background, making connections and being all sneaky about something; he has plans but also didn’t decide to go after the One Piece until after his prime. He’s been stagnant but moving and shaking around the world, all for some big ideal, some big plan, something huge.

It is my stance, idea, theory, if you will, that all this makes sense if you look at it from the viewpoint that nothing—not the planning, not stealing the fruit, not the power growth, or making his way to Yonko status, not building his crew, even the hurry-up-and-wait—he’s been doing all these years, his whole life? Is because he’s hasn’t made a single decision for himself since Gol D. Roger died.

Outrageous! You cry! Shanks, a man who supposedly spouts on about being free and charting your own course and being a pirate? Is none of those things? Impossible, you will say. I will ask you how you got into my house and to please leave. But aside from the pirate bit, yes, and I can prove this. Calm my chili-baby’s and listen.

Yes, Shanks had his life taken from his adventure, his destiny set and marked right before the Loguetown execution. It is my belief that all this can be laid at the feet of—drumroll, please—Gol D. Roger himself!

Gasp! Crying! Fainting in the audience! I know, what a twist. Let me explain. In a flashback, we see Roger talking about Ace. It was Roger’s belief that Ace (his child) would be the savior of the world, the new Joy Boy, destined to destroy the World Government with what they learned from the Poneglyphs and Laugh Tale. He believed their generation was too early and that the next would usher in the new world. Ace would be his true successor. A little narcissistic, but a man like Roger probably couldn’t help but be. Not just that but it probably felt prophetic he found Laugh Tale of course that had to mean something?He was also dying as it was and put things in place for Ace to survive. He told Garp where he was so Garp could take him away with Rouge—a safety net, that sure was useful. Once she ya know, died.

With the understanding that the next generation would usher in the new age, Roger took aside a thirteen-year-old Shanks and revealed everything. He told him about the birth of the new Joy Boy, everything about Laugh Tale, and how he believed his son would usher in this age. I believe he gave Shanks this purpose: to pass on the straw hat to his son and help him become a man strong enough to fight the World Government. I think little traumatized Shanks, who is about to lose his father and has had the weight of the world put on his shoulders, takes it to heart and buries everything he is to fulfill his captain's last wish. And that’s horrible. I’ll get into the psychological implications later, but holy shit, Roger, what the fuck? He’s thirteen! And about to watch you die!

But yeah, doesn’t this make sense? Why the hell when Buggy wanted to go after the One Piece, did Shanks hold back and say they should wait, losing his brother because he has a secret his captain entrusted him with. Why the hell did they know about the Gum Gum Fruit and were searching for it? Why did Shanks spend so long on a little island like Fousha in the East Blue? Not only was he looking for the fruit, but he was also looking for Ace! (And maybe Rouge.)

Why has he been making all these connections but doing jack shit with them? Why did he become a Yonko but claim no territory for fucking years on end and do nothing really with his status? Why does he rely on such a small crew of such powerful individuals? Why does he party his life away, seem almost aimless, and not start to go after the One Piece until Luffy reaches Gear 5?

Because he’s the one to pass on the legacy; he’s the placeholder, a cog in the proverbial machine that is fate. He made sure Joy Boy would exist. And now that the dominoes have been placed and are falling fast, he’s going to challenge Luffy and make sure he’s strong enough to fight for it—strong enough to take on the World Government, the Celestial Dragons, and Imu—and then hand him a big red button to help do it afterward. That button will be all the sneaky shit he’s been doing in the background.

He’s been the bridge between his captain and this new age. Sure, it was too early, but his influence rippled out through the people he trusted and touched in his life. The same way Rayleigh trained Luffy, knowing what he was preparing him for in the next part of his journey, waiting years for him to arrive at Sabaody.

And all that needed to happen was the dreams, adventures, and sacrifices of a young boy. It’s almost poetic—a son for a son (or sun, in this case). My therapist says I make light of dark shit so I don’t have to emotionally feel the pain.

And now we get into the sad portion of today’s episode. Prepare the tissues because this is why I think Shanks is one of the saddest characters in One Piece.

Because think about it: Shanks’s life was charted for him; his adventure and future were stolen, decided with the reveal of Laugh Tale and all the secrets around it—everything, all so the next generation could one day rise up and bring a new dawn. Shanks never got to have a dream because it was stolen from him. He’s a walking, talking empty automaton, fulfilling his captain's dying promise made by a grieving thirteen-year-old.

He is dreamless, and for a man who is, in some sense, the freest in the world—can go anywhere, can do anything, is powerful enough to stop wars—he’s still trapped, chained to a future he can only wait for.

I don’t think he knows who he is outside of this. I don’t think he thinks he’ll live beyond it. (Which like I will fucking cry because this is gonna be kinda true.) I don’t even want to call it an ambition. Duty, maybe. Damned promise, more likely. And it’s ruined every relationship outside of it he’s ever had. Aside from one—

(Don’t even get me started on him and Mihawk and miscommunication, failed expectations, and Mihawk being the epitome of everything Shanks isn’t. With his dream chasing to the ends of the world, ending up unfulfilled and alone. Finding companionship and what he thought were similar drives in each other, but once Shanks lost his arm and his hat, he realized Shanks was never fighting for something he wanted. And it broke him a little; it broke their relationship—one of the only relationships Shanks chose for himself, with nothing to do with his mission.

And Buggy—he gave up his brother, was forced to leave him alone, and couldn’t say anything, couldn’t tell him the truth, couldn’t destroy his dream. And he couldn’t even be selfish enough to make him stay. Like, oh my God, the drama.)

Doomed yaoi aside, the only thing and person I think that messed up his perfectly made plans is Luffy.

Sweet baby Luffy wasn’t so sweet before the Red Force arrived. In the manga, it is mentioned that he was an angry, bitter child, lashing out almost like Ace to a degree. But Shanks, by just being kind, by being good, and by reaching out and teasing this little ball of anger, transforms him, saves him in a way. He gives him a drive, a dream, and a morality to live by. He gives him everything he never got—everything stripped from him. Shanks turns him into the type of person a special kind of Devil Fruit might call out to and get eaten by.

Nika chose Luffy because Shanks saved him by just being good and kind, giving this kid something beyond his anger and bitterness. Shanks gave Luffy the idea of freedom, and in return, he allowed Shanks’s perfectly clear mission to shatter. I think this Shanks makes the first real decision in his life: he goes, "Fuck, well, we’re backing this horse now," and Luffy becomes his child—not his captain's, but his future to bet on and help grow.

And I fucking love that. Luffy saves him just as he saved Luffy, in a way. And that’s his kid, his successor, more than it ever was for Roger. I will die on this hill. (If you want, you can even look at it as Shanks finally choosing a dream all his own and it’s Luffy.)

Will Oda see it this way? Probably not. He has a habit of brushing off stuff like this; I think he’ll make Shanks’s character into a noble man dedicated to stopping the World Government and not even think about the implications of tying all that to him at such a young age. But I do think Shanks expects to die when Luffy comes to fight; I think he wants to, just how Mihawk wants to die from Zoro’s blades. Because what is there beyond this? (And again, parallels!)

And I believe he will live! (Not Mihawk—he's gonna die.) Shanks will live, and symbolically, Luffy will free him from this self-imposed duty, this promise made by a child. Shanks will have made, even unwittingly, the thing that would free him, allowing him to move forward in a world where all the purposes he needs to find are his own.

And holy shit, that’s a lot for him, but then Blackbeard will happen, and he’ll die only having known freedom for a short while. Luffy will cry and create a new dawn, and it won’t be for nothing—except it will be for everything to Shanks.

In conclusion, Shanks doesn’t have a dream of his own. He never had a dream; if he did, it was squashed out of him in order to fulfill a promise set by his father, Gol D. Roger.

He loses his brother, loses his control over his destiny, and as his father sets such things into motion, Ace, Roger’s child, will become the new Joy Boy.

He makes a connection with someone outside of that mission and purpose, and in doing so, creates the opportunity for his own freedom and his own choice in Luffy.

Later down the line, Nika/Luffy will eventually free him in the same way he created his own freedom back then, giving him a new choice going forward. They will free him from the mission that was placed on his shoulders as a thirteen-year-old child, and afterwards, he will consequently be killed by Blackbeard, and everything will be horrible, and we will all cry. The end.

I hope everyone enjoyed this thesis on Shanks. Feel free to use it and steal it to your hearts content. I would love to write more if anyone has any questions or things they want to ask; I will be opening up my ask box for questions. I would love to go into more detail on his relationship with Luffy, his rivalry with Blackbeard, and how that ties into all of this, as well as his relationship with Mihawk (fuck man the parallels!!) or maybe Buggy. (Which I have less on it’s just really tragic.)

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derinthescarletpescatarian · 3 months ago

Note

I must say: I’m genuinely impressed by how creative all your stories are. I have three questions related to your writing process, if you don’t mind.

1) How do you stay motivated to keep creating?

2) Where do you find inspiration?

3) have you ever had an idea for a scene that you struggled to execute? How did you work through that to write the scene?

I love your stories! I look forward to every chapter of Charlie McNamara.

1) Motivation to create has never been an issue for me -- there's always some new thing to write about! My issue, and the issue faced by a lot of other writers, is the motivation to stick with a project to completion. That's hard. Everyone's got a hundred "works in progress" they'll never touch again because they took a break and when they came back, their attention was on something new and shiny.

My solution to this? Money.

The reason I started Curse Words as a web serial and opened a patreon for it wasn't because I ever expected to be able to make a living as a writer. I'm as surprised as anyone that so many kind people have put their support behind me and let me keep writing these fucked up stories instead of getting a real job. I did it because I wasn't getting my projects finished. I was doing what we all do; getting three quarters of the way through any given project and then finding something more fun to work on instead. And when you risk disappointing readers by doing that, well, that'll get you back in the seat over the little bumps, maybe pull you back to a project a few times. But when people are paying you actual cash in return for consistent output, on time, to story completion? That's a way bigger motivator. Even if it's just one guy. For a long time, I had one patron! It was enough! It worked! It's not about making a lot of money, which is borderline impossible as a writer (again, I still can't believe my supporters are so generous enough that i can make this my career). But it acts as some level of both proof that your work is valued, and an active obligation on your part to keep producing it on a consistent schedule. My readers are giving me something valuable for this. I can't let them down.

Sorry, I'm sure you wanted a more uplifting kind of answer. But that's just what works for me.

2) I've never really been sure how to take this question. This is basically the age-old 'where do you get your ideas?' and it... doesn't have an answer. You think of a thing and you write about it. As you resolve the problems and inconsistencies in the thing, that fills out more and more of the world of the story.

Angel is born of a mediocre Goosebumps book called Chicken, Chicken. There's a part in the book where the protagonist, slowly shapeshifting into a chicken, rips all his feathers out every morning in an attempt to slow the transformation. The book isn't really about that but it stuck with me for a good two decades until, stuck in the house for two months at the beginning of Covid, I wrote Angel.

Void Princess and The princess in the Tower are both me musing on the old 'princess kidnapped by a dragon' trope. I get really fixated on this trope for some reason; I have four or five others swimming about in my head that aren't full stories ready for the page yet. Wasting Time is just the song Pushin' the Speed of Light, World Builder was written in a fever right after watching Jacob Geller's The Shape of Infinity, Copykate was initially going to be a SAYER fanfic but required enough alterations to the setting that it worked better as a story of its own. The inspiration is out there, the ideas are out there. It's just a matter of practice to turn them into stories.

3) I try to avoid scenes that are hard for me to depict, but this isn't always possible. I'm aphantasiac and struggle a lot with scenes that have a lot of heavy visual elements. Scenes where there's a lot going on that needs to be fairly precisely depicted are tricky, too.

One particularly difficult scene for me was a fight scene in Time to Orbit: Unknown. There's about six people in a small room fighting over the fate of a bunch of other people who are not present, and the reader needs to be kept up to date on the physical positions/activity/intentions of all the combatants, the villain explaining what he's doing and why (lying), the protagonist figuring out that he's lying, the physical condition (injuries, being restrained, et cetera) of all of the combatants, and the fate of the half of the crew not in the room, all with enough detail that the reader can understand the stakes, consequences, and enough of the moment-to-moment logic of the fight that nobody's decisions are confusing. The whole thing is very fast paced and... it's a lot. It's always a difficult balance in these scenes because you want to be detailed enough to keep the reader following everything they want to follow, but you don't want to dramatically slow down the story by describing every detail. If you're using a limited viewpoint, it's a blessing and a curse; you can avoid narrating the stuff your character can't see or isn't paying attention to, but you also have to find a way to get across information that your character might not be able to see, either by forcing them to see it or by having it conveyed in some other way in the scene. With busy scenes like this, I like to work backwards -- decide what specifically the reader needs to know, decide what is needed to get the characters to the places I want them at the end of the scene, and write a scene with as little as possible in it except for those two things. Sometimes, communicating those two things requires a bit of setup.

In Curse Words, there's an ancient magic spell passed down a family line from parent to child. It's a communication spell that allows people to see through each others' eyes and hear through their ears. Before the existence of long-distance wireless communications, this sort of information transfer was enormously powerful; wars can be turned with that power, trade networks created or conquered. It made its family enormously powerful, to the point where they're the most powerful magical family in the world even in the time of the story, with the spell long buried and its advantage lost to an age of mobile phones and cameras. It's massively influential to the worldbuilding of the story.

I introduced it for one reason and one reason alone -- I knew that eventually, I would be writing a climax to the story where a lot of people were doing a lot of things in a lot of different locations, and the protagonist was only going to be in one of those places. And I knew that I was going to need some way to tell the audience what the fuck was happening while he was running around in caves and shit.

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writers-potion · 1 month ago

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How to raise animals and plants?

Hmmmm I've never had a pet and I've basically killed every plant that has ever set foot in my life?? Should ask a gardening blog -

Okay just joking, I can adress that question in two ways:

"raising" animals and plant like how you'd raise a demon

raising magical/fiction animals and plants

Summoning Animals and Plants

I don't imagine raising animals and plants being too different from summoning anything magically. It could be as simple as:

Setting up a magic system that allows magic practitioners to conjure plants and animals out of thin air

A pentagon-and-candle style ritual that would summon animals/plants in the middle once the right spells have been executed.

A magical instrument (like a horn, flute) that would call out to animals and plants nearby to you

Some ideas for summoning spells/rituals:

You need to call the animal/plant's "true name" to get their attention.

Once summoned, you are stuck with them for life.

You can summon powerful animals/plants, but you'll need to share you "life force" with them, eating into you own lifespan.

You can only summon the animal when you have a piece of their body - like a tooth, feather, or droplets of saliva.

When you summon a young animal, it will imeediately consider you to be their "mother". Good luck raising them.

Humans and animal/plant have a contractual relationship where a mother would send their young to a human to be trained after a certain age.

Plants cannot be uprooted from the exact locations they've been raised. Even if it's your bed or toliet.

Nurturing Fantasy Animals and Plants

There are a few ways in which raising fantasy pets can be different:

What they eat: metal? human blood? a horribly large amount of paper? Would it be troublesome for the owner to feed them?

Their size: The fantasy animal may switch from one form to another, with drastic difference in size. Or they can be so small/ so large that it's hard to maintain them.

Level of intelligence: either very low or very high would be interesting

Capacity for language:/communication Give them an interesting way to communicate. Perhaps

Lifespan: would they live longer than you? Perhaps for centuries?

Capacity for empathy: do they understand emotion? would they snuggle up to comfort you during long, cold nights?

Mode of regeneration: how do they reproduce? Do their younglings look different from their adult form?

For plants, especially:

How they move around/do they move at all. Maybe you'll have to stuff them in a handbag and carry it around?

Carnivorous?

Can you define whether they are male/female?

Hope this helps! :) Happy writing.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! Also, join my Tumblr writing community for some more fun.

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2

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ganondoodle · 2 months ago

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okay i typed this in a reply but i need to say this more detailed here too, the way totk dealt with horses (and stables) is bad and worse than botw imo (yes i can rant about that too, these weird choices are in every little spot in totk, its almost impressive)

in a game that lets you build cars and stupid flying maschines, towers that shoot you into the stratosphere AND teleporting points all over the place, the chance is already low that you use a horse- though i would be one of them bc i love horses and hate building and didnt find it fun at all-

(also i almost never used any parts i had with me bc you cant put them back and your dumb vehicles despawn as soon as you dont look at them- also a negative thing about that system that reinforces the feeling of actually using it being more punishing than rewarding with the added bonus of the good ol saving your health potions forever problem)

-and something i DID like was that you can have more horses and the ... one.. new color (the lil spots but only AFTER you do that one quest in the spy post)

the stable points seemed like a neat idea, but like so many things, are utterly cheatable, imo the system should have only given you a point when you visit a new stable, so you actually have to go around and visit them all

(also .. add new stables, like mini ones or sth that dont offer beds- you dont need that anyway- so you have more places in which you can get them ... why did they remove some of them anyway, shouldn there be MORE now that the land is supposedly healing/being repaired? especially the one next to the big canyon, its so empty there it would have the perfect place for sth like a new settlement or a big boss arena but no its more empty than it was before, why?? and then putting yet another repeating annoying quest there in that weirld empty place?? i just dont get it)

letting you farm points by sleeping at a stable or bringing in a horse gives you LESS incentive to actually go around the world bc you can just farm it there

(and if that was done so youd 'discover' the malanya talks to you in your sleep 'secret' ... that is literally told to you, and if its bc you dont want to force players to go around and find every stable to get all those rewards ... why do you have 140 or whatver caves then with the majority of them being the literal same thing over and over ... to make people actually use the sleeping thing there? .. why, who uses that anyway, and farming points by sleeping there .. what the hell does that add? AND THEN the stupid sleep over tickets, probably the most nothign reward ever, dont count?? i dont think i ever used one- it just all doesnt make any sense, everything plays against each other)

the upgrading system for your horse is .. once again, a neat idea horribly executed, you have to go find malanya to upgrade them, and similarly stupidly like the fairies, they only tell you what food you need for what upgrade when you are there .. or when you are sleeping in the special tm bed at a stable, randomly, one food, bc the quantity changes too

which is just so ??????????? let me go and do a quest that rewards you with a lil booklet in which you can look up what an upgrade costs, or let the stables have that, either as a list or in the menu when selecting a horse or something?? (also why the hell is malanya in a different spot anyway, like, it feels like a modder just plopped them over there, their og spot is just empty now - except for yet again a stupid filler quest for .. another big horse and a yaaaaaaaaays crystal shrine quest- ... the spot is even still called spring of the horse god .... its so stupid, just like the fairy shuffling around, like you really couldnt think of a better way to reuse that concept other than to ... move it to a different spot in the same map and map level???? and not change anything in their og spot except idk, put a hole in the map ... for one of them like .. its like they moved them around last minute just to have the semblance of things being 'changed' with no regard what makes a change actually feel like one and what just feels like, pick up thing, click on random spot on map, drop thing- its like that for the fairies and shrines too, its so dumb and .. feels disrepectful to botw and how much thought seemed to have went into these spots that were clearly built about those things)

and like it couldnt get WORSE, they cut off the paths that horses follow automatically with one of those miasma buttholes (sorry its just a hole cut into the map, it doesnt even look like miasma burst through, it just .. cut out) a monster camp (that RESPAWNS, i thought those camps you clear with a quest would stay clear, but that would make sense, so of course it respawns and you can do the frame rate killer quest over and over yippieee) or otherwise like, with a big rock or a broken bridge-

and there is NO WAY to create a new path or fix or move anything in a game ABOUT BUILDING supposedly, like you needed more reasons to never use a horse????? i liked jsut hopping on and letting them follow a path and chill looking at the landscape, you cant do this here, and you cant even excuse it with 'its bc of the theme' as in, stuff is destroyed bc calamity 1.5 or whatever bc nothing in the game makes it feel like theres anything actually at stake, but the real crime is to make it not be fixable. WHY??? link moves entire buildings with ease but cant move one freaking rock that fell into a river?????? you swing around logs like a club but cant fix a bridge so your horse can get over it??????????????????????????????

#ganondoodles talks #zelda #ganondoodles rants #totk critical #i know i know its long #and you may wonder how i can find things to rant about yet #and i swaer im not trying to find thigns to hate #but igven how much it reuses from botw #imporvement or at least meaningful change should be the minimum and they just ......dont .... again #like WHY this is so dumb.................#the more i try to get my feelings into coherent thoughts about this game the more i realize just how rushed it feels #even the detail or side mechanics either dont make sense #or have some sort of way to cheat around way too obviously to be something overlooked #or are poorly integrated #or cheapen antoehr function #like these problems are everywhere #and the longer you look at it the cheaper it looks #even if you love the game and dont mind it or whatever there is NO WAY to justify that price tag #and so wish they were honest about what happend #it cant just all be covid can it? theres so much wrong in every part except for sound and music #and so desperately want to know WHY #........ i just wanted more horse colors- more horse slots- and a lil pasture somewhere where i can see them all frolicking around #i feel like thats not too much to ask

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greenerteacups · 3 months ago

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Hi GT. I hope this message finds you well. I am sending all the good vibes and we'll wishes your way! ♥️♥️♥️ I hope you've had a wonderful summer.

I'm such a big fan of your work. Lioneheart is amazing and has stuck with me for such a long time.

I was wondering if you had any other stories you'd like to explore one day (even if you never get the chance to write them.) Whether it be fanfiction or original work, I was just curious because sometimes I feel as if I have hundreds of stories inside that I could tell, and I am not sure how to pick just one and see it to completion.

First of all, thank you! This is a fun one. I have a few enduring ideas for longfics I may or may not ever write (i.e., ideas that would have been projects already if I didn't have an ongoing longfic). I don't get stuck in them mostly because I try to remind myself that the idealized story you imagine when a concept occurs to you will never actually exist as it does when it's unshackled by the constraints of execution. What you'll get if you actually sit down and hack it out is (1) a real and imperfect piece of writing, and (2) the satisfaction of having written it, which is by far the more reliable source of motivation, if we're being honest. That being said, here are some ideas I've always wanted to explore, if and when I finish Lionheart:

I've always wanted to write a longform canon-divergent Tomione fic about Tom Riddle's 7th year at Hogwarts. Big honking political melodrama ft. the original Knights of Walpurgis, a Triwizard Tournament, and realistically functioning time travel (hence why this one's always been kicked down my list of projects, because writing a time-travel plot is like running through a minefield made of trampolines). I've already got character concepts sketched out for the Hogwarts cast — sooooo many fun ideas for the teenage Walburga. But I'd still need about a week of solid fic preproduction on the plot alone before I was ready to boot up and start writing, and it'd take at least 250k words — closer to 300k, if I'm being honest about myself. So this probably won't see the light of day anytime remotely soon, if ever.

A canon-compliant Dramione war fic, diverging from the Malfoy Manor chapters in Book 7, picking up from a speculative thread I read once about what would happen if the war didn't end after Voldemort died at the Battle of Hogwarts. I've always thought it would be fascinating to see who Hermione and Draco would become if they were actual soldiers in the war (and my disappointment with how Book 7 handled the "war" of it all has been established). That being said, Book 7 of Lionheart will probably give me a lot of similar ideas to chew on, so I don't know what my appetite for this one will be once I'm finished with it.

Durmstrang AU. This one's barely a fic concept so much as it is a mental moodboard — I just want to worldbuild the hell out of Durmstrang. And the international wizarding world, generally. It's a delicious sandbox.

A longform canon-compliant fic or series of fics about the previous generation of Blacks (Sirius/Bellatrix/Narcissa, namely). If you look at the books, there's a huge amount we don't know about the fall of the Blacks. I always found it bizarre that the sisters and Sirius seem to be the only ones left by 1995. No one else has a claim? No one else from this all-powerful wizarding family wants to step in and claim this big honking townhouse in the middle of London? Or its attendant fortune? Dude, what happened? Also, we don't see nearly enough of the Black family melodrama in canon. They lose 4/5 children of a generation in the span of almost single decade. And then (presumably) all of their parents die in the span of another. Goddamn. Just imagine the character work you could do there.

A No Chosen One/Voldemort Wins (The First Time) AU where Hermione never gets her letter, and meets Draco much later in life as a self-taught witch. The dynamics I have in my head for this are really enjoyable, and it would be a chance to finally write Hermione POV, plus the Draco I've cooked up for this universe is [chefs kiss]. I also just love the idea of Hermione as a feral witch-child running around muggle London. I love it a lot.

#greenteacup asks #dramione

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stringlessau · 2 months ago

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IT'S STRINGLESS' 1 YEAR ANNIVERSARY (+ early concept art compilation)

Posting this dumbass little video to start off the day since we have a lot of little gifts for our awesome community today.

One of those things is something i've been wanting to do for a very long while: posting a lot of the original concept art for stringless (since ive always enjoyed seeing other people's early concepts) some of these i have posted massively before, some are completely unseen, so it'll be fun

This one is the page that started it all, his design is at the same time largely unchanged and also completely different

All i have to say is that it originally said (regarding spamton and swatch) "they bicker like an old married couple" but then i thought about it and i changed it so theyre literally just married

Didnt mean to make swatchton, made it anyway lmfao

Right after that, i got working on neo designs, I wanted to make him really scary looking, the original concept was to make him look skeletal and generally for him to look insane and like he had been reanimated from the dead, but a lot of people had told me over time that they didn't really like the design, I was very defensive over it but I ended up taking criticism and i actually really like the new neo, it balances the uncanniness of the original design with the sleekness of my new art

Payton was a natural next step, without someone to sell the thorn ring there'd be no neo, so although his design visually stayed almost the same, he went through a lot of color revisions (thanks mostly to @maskedalterego, who helped me to nail his final color palette), he suggested the gloves, and helped me to balance the saturation of the design since really I've never had a good eye for color.

His final design, color wise, was just me experimenting using the colors of my sona at the time on him, which I was hesitant to do but was so happy with the palette that I kept it.

It's interesting that he was originally intended to be the pink addison (since he sells one of the snowgrave required rings), and the reason he ended up being the blue addison was corey beepington (and the eviction notice short which I have taken one too many concepts from), this still influenced me to make his outfit pink initially, which still is a huge part of his character design

That exact same night, I created concept art for Raster (weirdly, I was sure I created them before Payton, but it might be because I was generally uninterested in Payton earlier on), their design is also largely unchanged, I just got better with shapes and color, I also ended up changing their cheek markings after seeing some swatchton fanchild art by ne0nbandit

A first until now, the first concepts for payton neo were made on paper

I took very long on this design, and I only updated it every few weeks to make tweaks because I felt the concept was too good but my execution didnt make it justice

I'm very proud of how the design looks now, as of the latest neo redesigns, I feel I could finally make this idea justice

Swatch's design went through some last minute changes, I wanted to use this color palette for swatch to contrast with spamton, but decided against it, then i changed their hair to be longer, to make their Stringless design distinct from their regular Deltarune design

Historically, these two are pretty important, the first pieces of art I ever made featuring Rakhin's old design, when he wasn't part of stringless and I was just befriending rope (he made me Payton fanart first, fell in love with his style), the contrast is beautiful

Now to finish this post, here's some unseen Snowgrave route art I made over the time Stringless has been in development, they're all pretty quick sketches, but i love them nonetheless

Thanks everyone for the insane reception this AU has gotten, I haven't been feeling very good this whole year for a huge amount of reasons I can't get into, but Stringless and its community always helps me to remember why I do the things I do

Thanks for everyone's comments and everyone's kindness, thanks especially to @theropeaaa , for being the literal other half of this AU, without whom I couldn't have ever done the Stringless pages, @maskedalterego for helping me and listening to my ramblings since the start, @scamp-boxx for being this AU's biggest hype man (the first ever comment on the first spamton concept art was by them, and they helped me nail so much of the snowgrave route), @boykisserwoah and @weirdohno , for also being here from the start and making an absolutely insane amount of fanart oh my god, @gutamajunk , for motivating me to create Raster, and writing several story outlines on the first days of stringless that were the foundation for the pages, and diaryous milch and rory, our friends that have helped with character designs, story ideas, voice acting and have generally been instrumental to what stringless is today

THANKS EVERYONE <3

-Nick

#deltarune #deltarune au #stringless au #deltarune comic #spamton g spamton #swatch deltarune #swatchton #concept art

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amethystarachnid · 19 days ago

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Hey! If your taking requests, I love your work so much and I had an idea I would really love to see how you execute it.

So it would be with Tony Stark, and if its okay Male!Reader, but not romantic, the reader is a teen who is a product of some old fling Tony had and after being poorly taken care of by his mom (whatever that inclines you to write, abuse, bad boyfriend, alcoholism etc.) She dumps him off at stark tower with a note and what little belongings the reader has and his birth certificate to Tony for him to take care of. And the rest of what happens from there is up to you! Basically heavy on the found family troupe, and a little angst with some good fluff. The reader can be from 16-18 still in high school. He has Tony's sarcastic humor and smarts, but he nodes his intelligence because his mom never really helped him appreciate it, basically one of those kids that gets straight A's without seemingly trying and looking kind of stupid, the reader is quiet and a bit cold but that's because of how he was raised, and isn't one to share how he's feeling. If you can do this I'd be so thankful, if not its completely understandable, I hope I gave you enough creative liberty to make it fun, I know it'll be great if you do write it! Again I love your fics so much and I can't wait to read more of what you have!!💜☺

LEGACY

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x male!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: platonic!, a lot of angst and some fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: normal request

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 5.5k

ᯓ★ Summary: literally what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): mentions of abusive household and rader feeling like people keep abandoning him

ᯓ★ Thank you so much for your request and for liking my work! <3

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

Your whole life, you’ve never known stability. The cramped apartments, the ever-shifting walls painted in hues of desperation, are as familiar to you as your own skin. You’re seventeen now, but you still feel like you’re stuck in this never-ending carousel of uncertainty and survival. Your mom—who’s always been more into herself than anyone else—has a way of shoving her problems under the rug, sweeping you along with the mess until you’re barely holding it together.

Her boyfriend—if you could even call him that—is the latest problem. Travis is the kind of guy who doesn’t need to say much to make his point clear. It’s in the way he takes up space, fills every room with his presence, making himself the center of your lives as if it’s his right. He started coming around when you were fourteen, and it’s only gotten worse. You know he hates you, and he doesn’t even try to hide it. To him, you’re a nuisance, some extra baggage he never asked for, and he’s got no problem reminding you of that. Your sarcasm and quick wit, the things that make you, you, are just more reasons for him to snap, roll his eyes, or call you ungrateful.

Your mom’s always been…complicated. You’ve known that since you were little, watching her go from one relationship to another, always searching for some kind of validation she never seems to find. She calls herself a free spirit, but it’s like she’s just drifting, lost in a fog of her own making. She can be fun, sure, when things are good. There were even moments when you thought she really loved you. But as time went on, you learned to read the signs: the distant glances, the subtle irritations, the way she avoids looking at you for too long, as if you’re some kind of mirror she doesn’t want to face.

It’s your intelligence that bugs her the most, you think. You see through her, every lie, every excuse, every careless decision. And she knows it. It’s like looking into a warped mirror—she can see pieces of herself in you, but you’re everything she’s never been: sharp, observant, with a mind that doesn’t let things slide. And it grates on her.

The fights get worse as you grow older, each one escalating faster than the last. Your sarcasm is your armor, your way of dealing with the endless cycle of disappointment. But every quip, every clever retort, only makes her angrier. You can tell she hates that she can’t control you, can’t manipulate you the way she does with everyone else in her life. She calls you difficult, a burden, a mistake she should’ve never had. You don’t let it show, but each word leaves a scar, another reminder that you’re on your own.

Then one day, it’s too much. Travis and your mom are fighting—again. It’s loud, voices echoing in the small apartment, and you’re in your room, trying to block it out like usual. But this time, you hear your name. You’ve been in this situation enough to know that’s never a good sign. So, you stay quiet, waiting, listening.

“You know he’s not even mine, right?” Travis snaps, his voice dripping with frustration. “Why do I have to put up with this kid? He’s not my responsibility!”

“You think I don’t know that?” Your mom’s voice is strained, like she’s barely holding on herself. “I’ve tried—God, I’ve tried—but he’s just…he’s too much. I can’t handle it anymore.”

There’s a pause, and for a second, you think maybe she’ll say something else, something that makes it sound like she cares. But the words never come.

“Then get rid of him,” Travis says, so bluntly that it leaves a chill in the air. “You’ve got the kid’s birth certificate. Drop him off at his real dad’s. He’s rich, isn’t he? Let him deal with the brat.”

You don’t move. You barely breathe. But deep down, you already know this is it. There’s no fighting it this time, no clever comment to deflect what’s happening. She’s made her choice, and it’s not you.

The next morning, she’s silent as she hands you an envelope. There’s no apology, no excuse, just a look that tells you she’s already gone, checked out of whatever shred of motherhood she once claimed to have. You don’t even ask where you’re going; you know the answer as soon as you see the address on the piece of paper.

Stark Tower.

It feels like a final act of cruelty, really. The man she’s always refused to talk about, the one figure in your life who’s only ever been a name, and now he’s your last option. Tony Stark. Genius, billionaire, Avenger. And, apparently, your father.

You stand outside Stark Tower with a single bag of your things and that stupid piece of paper—the birth certificate that’s somehow supposed to mean you’re his problem now. You feel like you’re stuck in some cosmic joke, a punchline to a story you didn’t even know you were a part of. There’s no going back, though. That’s clear enough.

So, you take a deep breath, adjust your bag on your shoulder, and walk through the doors.

Tony doesn’t even get a chance to process it at first. One moment he’s sipping coffee in his lab, deep in the flow of something unnecessarily complex that’s keeping his mind busy, and the next, Pepper is calling him down to the lobby. She sounds irritated, stressed—like maybe it’s his fault, which Tony wouldn’t be surprised by, honestly. He heads down, muttering about "another hero here to tell me how to do my job."

Then he sees you.

You’re leaning against the glass wall, wearing an expression that’s somehow familiar yet entirely alien to him. It’s not hard to recognize the mix of defiance and exhaustion in your eyes; he’s spent years perfecting that look himself. But the shock doesn’t really hit until you hand him the birth certificate. Your name and his, right there in black and white, unavoidably real.

For once in his life, Tony Stark is speechless.

“Seventeen years,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “And now you’re here because…?”

You shrug, clearly unimpressed. “Mom didn’t want me anymore, and apparently, you’re my dad. So… here I am. Congratulations.”

You’re blunt, almost cruel in the way you say it, like you don’t expect anything from him and don’t care if you get it. But he can’t look away from you. For the first time in a long time, he’s out of his depth. He’s had seventeen years to know this was possible, maybe even inevitable, but standing in front of you, he realizes he’s never prepared himself for this. He’s never thought about what it would mean to actually be a father.

Yet here you are, standing in front of him with your mother’s words still hanging over you, and he can see the weight you carry in the way your shoulders are always tense, the way your eyes don’t quite meet his.

“Well, kid,” he says after a beat, plastering on his most confident smile, “looks like you’ve officially joined the Stark family. There’s no going back now.”

Over the next few days, Tony throws himself into fatherhood with all the enthusiasm of someone tackling a new, challenging invention. He’s reading parenting books, taking advice from anyone who’ll give it, and trying desperately to crack the code of how to be a “cool dad.” He lets you explore Stark Tower freely, offers you access to his entire workshop, and even builds you a custom tablet, “Stark-style,” he brags, with enough advanced tech to impress even the most skeptical teenager.

He talks to you about science, testing your knowledge and realizing with a mix of pride and horror that you’re nearly as sharp as he was at seventeen. He tries to make jokes, throwing out sarcastic one-liners he assumes will win you over. Sometimes, he even manages to get a smirk out of you. But that’s as far as it ever goes.

Every attempt he makes is met with your icy wall, a defense mechanism built after years of disappointment and neglect. You listen, nod occasionally, but never laugh or even show interest. The most he ever gets out of you is a dry, deadpan “cool,” which is enough to keep him going but never enough to satisfy him.

Tony tries not to take it personally, but it’s hard. You’re right there, his kid, yet you’re worlds away, keeping him at arm’s length as if he’s just another adult you can’t trust. He catches glimpses of the sarcasm, the intelligence, but it’s wrapped up in layers of resentment and guarded detachment. You’re always cool, always distant, and he knows why, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

One evening, he sits you down with a grin, tossing a shiny, compact device into your hands. It’s sleek, metallic—one of his newer designs.

“Mini reactor prototype. You’d be the first to use it.” He says it with pride, like he’s giving you something no one else in the world could get.

You look at it for a moment, then at him. “Cool,” you say again, but your voice is flat, unimpressed. You set it on the table between you without another glance.

Tony’s grin falters, and he lets out a frustrated laugh. “You’re a tough crowd, you know that?”

You just shrug, giving him that practiced blank stare he’s come to know well. He’s finally reaching his breaking point. “Y’know, I’m trying here,” he says, exasperated. “I’m trying to… I don’t know, connect. Be… whatever it is you need me to be. But you’re acting like I’m just another stranger.”

You pause, considering him for a moment, and something shifts in your expression—like maybe, for just a second, you see his effort. But then your face goes neutral again, back to that familiar shield.

“Maybe that’s because you are,” you reply, voice quiet, almost too soft for him to hear.

Tony feels the blow, but he hides it with a forced chuckle. “Fair enough,” he says, though there’s a sting in his voice. “I can’t change the past, but… I’m here now. I’m not gonna just… walk away.”

The words linger between you, both of you knowing the weight they carry. You’ve heard promises like this before. You’ve heard them from your mother, from people who were supposed to care, and each one of those promises had turned hollow, leaving you more alone than before. So, when Tony looks at you with genuine sincerity, with a hope that you’ll give him a chance, all you can do is nod, burying any flicker of vulnerability.

As the weeks go on, Tony keeps trying. He brings you into the lab with him, walks you through his latest projects, even lets you experiment with some of the tech yourself. He drags you to burger joints at midnight, tries to coax out stories about school, hobbies, anything. Sometimes you let your guard slip, offering a sarcastic remark, a comment that makes him laugh—but the moment always passes too quickly, and you’re back behind that wall before he can push any further.

He’s persistent, though, and there’s a part of you that almost wants to give in, that wants to believe him. But your trust is a muscle you haven’t used in so long, it feels impossible to start now. So, you keep him at bay, deflecting his kindness, giving him just enough to satisfy his efforts without letting him in.

Tony doesn’t quit, though. He keeps showing up, every day, every night, and for the first time in your life, you don’t feel like someone’s just waiting for the moment they can leave.

Every morning, Tony insists on driving you to school, and it’s nothing short of a spectacle. He shows up outside Stark Tower in one of his many luxury cars, honking loudly, practically begging for attention. It’s become a routine, one you can’t escape no matter how many times you roll your eyes or tell him he doesn’t have to do it. He’s always got some snarky excuse, saying things like, “It’s my job as a dad,” or “I just want to see the kid off,” as if anyone believes he actually cares about high school protocol.

And everyone notices. Whispers trail behind you as you walk the halls, classmates you’ve known for years suddenly gawking at you like you’re a different person. They don’t know you as you anymore; they know you as Tony Stark’s kid. It’s suffocating. You’ve spent your entire life trying to stay unnoticed, to blend into the background. Now, no matter where you go, everyone’s waiting for you to crack a joke like him, to show off some kind of Stark-level genius.

Only one person seems to still see you, really see you—your best friend, Sam. You’ve known him since middle school, back when everything was simpler, when no one knew or cared who your dad was. He’s the only one who doesn’t treat you any differently now, the only person you actually trust enough to talk to about any of this.

One afternoon, you’re sitting outside on the bleachers with Sam, trying to ignore the fact that Tony’s car is already parked by the curb, waiting for you. The other students eye it like some exotic animal they don’t quite understand, but you keep your head down, just hoping the day will end without any more awkward questions or judgmental stares.

Sam nudges you. “So, uh… you still giving the old man the cold shoulder, huh?”

You sigh, avoiding his gaze. “I’m not giving him the cold shoulder. I’m just… keeping my distance.”

He rolls his eyes. “Dude, I see you with him every morning. The man looks like he’s about to recite the Gettysburg Address just to get a smile out of you. And you’re over here acting like he doesn’t exist.”

You shift uncomfortably, crossing your arms. “He’s only doing it because he feels obligated, Sam. It’s Tony Stark. He doesn’t actually care about me.”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “You really believe that? You think he’s the kind of guy who’d waste his time on someone he doesn’t care about?”

You don’t answer, but you can feel Sam’s eyes on you, cutting through all your defenses. He’s always been able to read you better than anyone, and right now, that’s the last thing you want.

“He’s trying, Y/N,” Sam continues, his voice softer. “Like, really trying. And I get it. I get that you’ve been burned, but… maybe give him a chance? Just talk to him. It’s not like he’s gonna run off if you tell him what’s going on.”

You look away, jaw clenched as you try to shake off the knot of emotion tightening in your chest. You don’t want to admit that Sam might be right. Letting someone in, giving someone a chance—that’s always been a dangerous game, one you’re not sure you can afford to play again.

That night, you’re lying awake in your room, staring at the ceiling, Sam’s words playing on a loop in your mind. The silence around you feels heavy, pressing down on you, and you can’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, you owe Tony more than you’ve been giving him. You’ve seen his effort, the way he tries to connect with you, even when you push him away. He’s there, every day, waiting for you, and no one has ever done that before.

Something shifts in you, a kind of tired resignation, and before you can talk yourself out of it, you get up and head downstairs to his workshop.

Tony’s hunched over a table, tinkering with some gadget, and he barely notices you at first. It’s only when you clear your throat that he looks up, surprise flickering across his face before he masks it with a smile.

“Hey, kid,” he says, setting down his tools. “Couldn’t sleep?”

You shrug, suddenly feeling the weight of what you’re about to say. “Yeah, I just… I wanted to talk to you about something.”

He raises an eyebrow, a mixture of curiosity and concern on his face. He gestures to a nearby chair. “Go ahead. I’m all ears.”

You sit, staring at your hands as you try to find the right words. For a long time, there’s only silence between you, the air thick with tension. Finally, you take a deep breath, forcing yourself to speak.

“I know I’ve been… difficult,” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. “And I know you’re trying. It’s just… it’s not easy for me.”

Tony watches you intently, not interrupting, his expression softer than you’ve ever seen it. You look down, focusing on your hands, the words spilling out before you can stop them.

“When I was a kid, my mom was all I had. I thought… I thought she cared about me, even if she didn’t always show it. But she changed, especially after she started seeing this guy. Travis. He wasn’t… he wasn’t a good person, Tony. He… he made sure I knew I wasn’t wanted.” Your voice breaks slightly, but you push through it, feeling the old wounds tear open. “He told me I was a burden, that I was just in the way. And my mom, she… she just let it happen. She barely even looked at me by the end.”

Tony’s face darkens, his jaw clenched as he listens, but he stays silent, letting you continue.

“I learned not to trust people,” you say, voice wavering. “Every time I thought someone would stick around, they didn’t. So I stopped… I stopped letting people in. I told myself it was easier that way.”

You look up at him, and for the first time, there’s no mask, no shield—just raw vulnerability, something you haven’t allowed yourself to feel in years.

“And then I showed up here,” you say, your voice barely a whisper now. “And you… you keep trying. You keep showing up, every day, like you actually care. And it’s… it’s confusing, okay? Because part of me wants to believe it, but the other part…” You trail off, wiping away a tear that slips down your cheek.

Tony doesn’t hesitate. He reaches over, placing a hand on your shoulder, grounding you, letting you know he’s there. “Y/N,” he says softly, his voice rough with emotion. “I can’t change what you went through. I can’t go back and fix it, as much as I wish I could. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”

You meet his gaze, and there’s something in his eyes that you’ve never seen before—a fierce, unwavering resolve that feels almost foreign. You swallow hard, feeling the weight of his words sink in, feeling the tiniest flicker of hope spark to life.

“It’s not easy for me,” you murmur. “It’s… it’s hard for me to trust people. And I know I’m not the easiest person to be around. But… I want to try. I want to believe you. I just… I need you to be patient with me. I need you to not give up on me.”

Tony nods, his hand still resting on your shoulder, steady and reassuring. “Hey,” he says, his voice breaking a little. “I’m not giving up on you, kid. Not now, not ever. You’re my son, and I’m here for the long haul. However long it takes, okay?”

The words settle around you, a warmth you haven’t felt in years. You don’t have to say anything; he seems to understand, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before he lets go. And in that moment, something in you softens, just a little, like maybe you can let him in.

For the first time, you allow yourself to believe him, to believe that maybe he really won’t walk away. And even though the walls around your heart don’t come down all at once, you feel them start to crack, piece by piece, letting a little light seep in.

After that night, things start to change. It’s slow, gradual, like thawing ice, but there’s a noticeable shift between you and Tony. You’re still guarded, still wary of letting him all the way in, but he doesn’t push. He just keeps showing up, every day, every night, just like he promised. And slowly, piece by piece, you let him in.

The first time you ask to work on something together, Tony practically beams. You’re sitting at the kitchen counter with your physics homework in front of you—normally a breeze, something you’d get done in a few minutes. But today, you’ve left a few problems untouched, hoping he’ll notice.

Sure enough, Tony glances over your shoulder and raises an eyebrow. “Need a hand with that?” he asks, and there’s a careful lightness to his voice, like he’s trying to keep things casual, so he doesn’t scare you off.

You shrug, trying to act indifferent. “Sure, if you’ve got time,” you say, even though both of you know you could solve this on your own without breaking a sweat. But Tony doesn’t call you out on it. He just grabs a chair, pulls it over, and sits down next to you, leaning in to look at your work.

For the next hour, the two of you go over formulas and theories, his explanations coming with a few sarcastic quips and exaggerated hand gestures. Every so often, he goes off on a tangent, telling you stories about his own time in high school or sharing a strange fact he thinks will help you remember a concept. You listen, half-smiling at his antics, and eventually even throw in a few of your own sarcastic comments. You can tell he’s trying not to make a big deal out of it, but there’s a spark in his eyes that tells you he’s thrilled to be here, helping you, no matter how small the reason.

As the days go by, you find yourself spending more and more time in Tony’s workshop. It becomes your safe space, the place where you don’t feel like you have to hide or put up walls. Tony lets you explore, handing you tools and explaining how they work, guiding you through his more complicated inventions. It’s like learning a new language, one he’s eager to teach you, and he’s a surprisingly patient teacher.

One afternoon, he’s working on a new suit upgrade, and you’re watching, silently impressed by how smoothly he moves, how every action is precise and practiced. You’re deep in thought when he glances over at you, smirking.

“Thinking of joining the family business?” he jokes, tossing you a wrench. “If you’re interested, I could always use an extra pair of hands.”

You catch the wrench, feeling a rare, genuine smile tug at the corners of your mouth. “Maybe I will,” you say, feeling a rush of warmth that’s unfamiliar but not unwelcome.

He shows you how to tighten a piece of armor plating, explaining each step with a casual ease that you find yourself getting lost in. There’s something oddly comforting about the way he talks, like he’s sharing a secret only the two of you understand. And as you work, side by side, you realize that you actually look forward to these moments, the quiet companionship that comes from working together on something you both enjoy.

One evening, you catch yourself staring at your chemistry textbook, pages open to a particularly dull section on thermodynamics. Normally, you’d power through it on your own, but tonight, you feel the familiar tug of loneliness creeping in, and before you know it, you’re on your feet, heading down to Tony’s lab.

When you reach the doorway, he looks up, surprised, then quickly wipes the expression off his face and pretends to be engrossed in his latest project. “What’s up?” he asks, as casually as he can manage.

You hold up the textbook, pretending to be annoyed. “This stuff is terrible. Thought maybe you could explain it better than my teacher does.”

Tony raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Well, I’m honored to know you think so highly of my teaching skills.” He gestures for you to sit down, and as you do, he starts flipping through the pages of your book. “Thermodynamics, huh? You sure you’re not just here for the riveting conversation?”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

But you both know the truth, and there’s an unspoken understanding between you as he dives into the material. He doesn’t just lecture; he makes it a story, breaking down each concept with analogies, acting out scenarios, and throwing in enough jokes to keep you both entertained. You throw in questions just to keep him talking, just so you don’t have to go back to your empty room just yet.

And somewhere along the way, you realize you’re not just learning about science. You’re learning about him—about his quirks, his sense of humor, the way he lights up when he’s talking about things he’s passionate about. He’s not just Tony Stark, billionaire genius, Iron Man. He’s… Tony, your dad, someone who, against all odds, actually seems to care about you.

Over time, you both fall into a rhythm. Tony starts waiting for you in the mornings, holding out a cup of coffee or hot chocolate, claiming he needs company on his drive to work. You never say it, but you look forward to those mornings, the way he fills the car with stories about his latest projects or about old college pranks he pulled that make you laugh in spite of yourself.

One day, you’re both hunched over a set of schematics in his lab, tossing ideas back and forth as you brainstorm a new design for a stabilizer that could potentially improve flight control in his suits. You’re getting so into it that you forget to be guarded, throwing out suggestions, bouncing thoughts off each other in rapid-fire succession.

At one point, Tony stops, leaning back in his chair to look at you with a smirk. “You know,” he says, a touch of pride in his voice, “you’re pretty damn good at this. Got that Stark brain for sure.”

You feel a warmth spread through you, and for the first time, you don’t brush it off. “Maybe,” you say, smiling despite yourself. “But I guess it helps when you have a good teacher.”

Tony chuckles, but there’s a glimmer of emotion in his eyes, something raw and unguarded. “Yeah, well… you’re not a bad student either.”

There’s a moment of silence as the two of you look at each other, an understanding passing between you that doesn’t need words. You know he’s trying, and somehow, that knowledge makes the walls around your heart crumble just a little bit more.

A few days later, you’re working on homework in the living room when Tony walks in, holding a set of blueprints he’s obviously excited about. But when he sees you bent over your books, he pauses, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“Hey, need some help?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

You look up, raising an eyebrow back at him. “With calculus? Pretty sure I’ve got this covered.”

He shrugs, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know I was quite the calculus prodigy back in the day.”

“Oh, yeah?” You smirk, half-teasing. “Care to prove it?”

Tony grins, and before you know it, he’s pulled up a chair, leaning over your work with the same intensity he brings to his inventions. You pretend to need help with a few problems, and he’s more than happy to guide you through them, throwing in jokes and sarcastic comments the whole way. Every so often, he nudges your shoulder, grinning like he’s just scored a victory when he catches you smiling.

Eventually, he lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Well, I think we’ve both learned a lot today,” he says, stretching dramatically.

“Yeah,” you reply, smirking. “Like the fact that you’re worse at calculus than I am.”

Tony gapes, clutching his chest in mock hurt. “Unbelievable. Betrayed by my own son. This is a new low.”

You chuckle, shaking your head, and for the first time, it feels easy. Comfortable. Like maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to keep fighting him off.

“Hey,” Tony says, his tone shifting to something softer. “Thanks for letting me in. I know it wasn’t easy.”

You meet his gaze, feeling that familiar vulnerability creeping in, but this time, you don’t shy away. “Thanks for not giving up,” you reply quietly. “I know I’m not the easiest person to deal with.”

Tony chuckles, reaching over to ruffle your hair. “Nah, you’re a piece of cake. Besides, I’ve got a lot of time to make up for.”

You smile, a real one this time, feeling a warmth settle in your chest. For the first time, you allow yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, things are going to be okay.

It’s supposed to be a routine mission. Just another intel-gathering run, in and out, with minimal risk. Tony had waved it off as no big deal before he left, throwing you a smirk and saying, “Just another day in the office.” But that was hours ago. And now, as you sit in the dim glow of the living room, watching the news report blaring on the screen, dread twists deep in your gut.

You watch the shaky footage of Iron Man fighting, and this time, it’s different. He’s outnumbered, missiles tearing through the air, beams of energy slicing through the smoke and chaos. The news anchor’s voice breaks as they report the intensity of the fight, how Iron Man was last seen plunging out of the sky after a heavy hit. For a terrifying moment, you catch a glimpse of him falling, his suit battered, smoking, before the feed cuts out entirely.

Your heart stops, and a painful tightness fills your chest. The hours that follow are a blur of pacing, every second dragging longer than the last. You’re used to him going out on missions, used to the danger that comes with being Tony Stark’s son. But this… this is different. This isn’t the usual playful bravado, the usual cocky promises that he’ll be home for dinner. This is life or death, and for the first time, you’re faced with the horrifying thought that he might not make it back.

After what feels like an eternity, the front door finally opens. You spin around, heart pounding, and there he is, looking worse for wear but alive. He’s moving a bit stiffly, his armor scratched and dented, his face smudged with dirt and a few new cuts. But he’s here.

Before he can say a word, you rush toward him, the flood of relief hitting you so hard that you barely register the fact that you’re moving, throwing yourself into his arms. Your grip is tight, like if you let go, he’ll disappear. You don’t even realize you’re trembling until you feel his arms close around you, holding you just as tightly.

“Hey, hey,” Tony says, his voice soft, touched with surprise but warm. “I’m okay, kid. I’m here.”

You pull back just enough to look at him, your eyes shining with unshed tears, and he’s looking at you with an expression so full of gentle understanding that it makes you feel like a kid again, vulnerable and desperate. Without thinking, the word slips out, raw and unguarded.

“Dad…” you whisper, voice breaking slightly, “don’t ever… don’t ever do that again. I thought… I thought I was going to lose you.”

Tony’s face softens, his own eyes welling up. He’s silent for a moment, as if he’s savoring the word, the weight of it finally hitting home. His hand comes up to rest on your shoulder, his grip firm but gentle, grounding you.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. “I didn’t mean to scare you like that. But I’m here, okay? I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

You nod, the tears slipping down your cheeks now, and Tony pulls you in again, holding you tightly, his hand running gently over your back. It’s the first time you’ve let yourself fully embrace him, the first time you’ve allowed yourself to lean into his strength, to accept the warmth he’s been trying so hard to offer. And as you stand there, held in his arms, a sense of peace settles over you, soft and comforting, melting the last of your walls away.

After a long moment, he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, a tear slipping down his own cheek as he smiles, eyes bright. “You called me ‘Dad,’” he says softly, his voice full of wonder, as if he’s just received the greatest gift in the world.

You give a small, watery smile, wiping at your eyes. “Yeah, well… don’t get used to it,” you mumble, but there’s no heat behind the words, only affection, only gratitude.

He chuckles, pulling you back into a hug, and you feel his hand rest on the back of your head, his grip firm and reassuring. “I’m already used to it,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “And I’m not letting you go, kid. Not ever.”

In that moment, you realize that this is what home feels like—right here, safe in his arms, with nothing left to fear.

I'll never get tired of familyman!Tony I swear.

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