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nasty-redrum · 2 months ago

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Revenant x reader

"I want to hold you close forever ."

This is an fluff Revenant x mechanic Reader fic. Revenant just experienced a flashback of his death after being loaded back into a new shell. He needs some comfort for the pain to vanish, so he payed his favorite skinsuit a visit.

His head buzzed as he walked through the darkness of the street. Revenants mind was a mess, full of the pain he had experienced before being load back into this new shell. It felt like he could still feel his body exploding and tearing by the grenade. His optics twirled as he finally reached the building he was seeking. Your apartment. You worked for the apex games as a mechanic, repairing the MRVNs, guns and also arenas, whenever there was an technical issue. You also worked on the three robot legends Pathfinder, Ash and even Revenant. You first thought, Revenant might kill you after the first time you had worked on him. However, he was quite pleased with your work. He kept coming back whenever he had issues with programming, mechanics or damage. You hadn't been quite sure, but you've had the feeling like he actually had a liking to you. The more time you spent together, the closer you got and eventually ended up as good friends. You had to admit, however, that you were actually a fan of him- a huge fan. Who could judge you? Everyone had a favorite in the games, and for you it was the big scary murder simulacrum.

You just prepared for bed as you grabbed the remote to eventually fall asleep to the tv. A sigh left you as you sat down onto your bed and cuddled into the blanket. It was silent in your apartment, except the speakers of the tv. After some more silence and you being focused on the horror movie, you thought you heard a knock on your window. You paused the movie and looked up, scanning your room. The knocking was gone and you felt a shiver run down your spine. You could barely see anything before you. "Great, I watch a horror move ONE TIME and some spooky shit happens." You spoke with a grunt, trying to hide your unease. "Fuck off demon! Go haunt someone else!" You shouted into the darkness. No answer. You grabbed your flash light next to you on the nightstand and looked into the hallway. Still nothing. You weren't insane, you definitely had heard something. As you turned back around, you were met with a glowing pair of eyes, staring down at you from at least seven feet. You froze for a moment, your soul leaving your body until you realised... "Revenant!?" You gasped in both surprise and relief. "Gosh, you gotta stop doing that. I know you love scaring people- but we're friends right? Sooo-"

"My bad skinsuit. I just.." His voice cracked. You immediately could see it on his body language, something had happened. You have spent enough time with Revenant, to be able to read him. He wanted to speak up, trying his hardest, but the words didn't come out of his voicebox. "Is your speaking module damaged again?" You asked. Of course you knew it wasn't that. You didn't even dare to ask him what was wrong, not knowing if it would piss him off. "No.. This body is new. There's nothing to fix. I...just..Fuck-" his voice cracked again, in almost embarrassment. "I wanted a place to stay for tonight. I feel- well I feel like shit right now." His tone dropped as he finished the explanation of his sudden appearance. You felt your heart sink. His first choice of safe place was YOU? How does a killer robot manage to be this sweet?! You felt insane for thinking it was cute from him. "Why- yes of course! I have enough space for two. My ex is gone since four years anyway, so no one to take the space in the bed beside me." You joked. Revenant didn't laugh, he barely enjoyed jokes. He followed you over to the bed and waited for your permission. As you gave him a nod, he sat down with a long sigh and ran his hands down his face. The discomfort on him was hard to miss. You didn't know if you were allowed to put the blanket over him, so you just offered it to his hands. He grabbed it gently and watched as you sat down onto the other bedside beside him. As you cuddled yourself back into the blanket, Revenant tilted his head. "Aren't you feeling uncomfortable because I am here cutting into your personal space?" He asked, leaving you in surprise. "I... don't think so? I actually like seeing you, it's been quite some time. I haven't spoken to you in a good while." You said with a smile, which left him grumbling. He didn't lay down into the bed. The blanket however, he had thrown around his thin robotic waist and watched as you closed your eyes to fall asleep. You knew he was looking at you, your stomach feeling told you so. "You want me to be your teddy bear?" You joked as you opened your right eye to catch him still staring over to you. He didn't response, yet you saw his hand twitch, almost as he was about to reach out to you. "You don't have to be ashamed, everyone needs cuddles sometimes." You tried to make him feel better. He sighed again as he suddenly moved closer. His thin mechanic fingers gently touched your sides as he wrapped his arms around you. You squeaked in surprise as he fully pulled you over to him, his arms holding you close. "Don't you shriek now, you offered me skinbag." Your face rested against his metallic chest, your arms gently pressed against his waist and your right leg was slightly crossed over his. This felt surprisingly... nice? Beside him being out of metal, his hug was actually quite comfortable. You felt his body relax against you as your hands went to wrap around his thin waist and you moved up a little to put your face into his neck. You didn't know what you were allowed to do actually, you knew he had some few things which would cross the line for him, yet he seemed like he needed any comfort possible right now. The thought of him having to do this alone everytime before you had gotten into his life suddenly crossed your mind. You cuddled even closer into his grip, giving him as much of your warmth as possible.

God this felt perfect and nice. His system relaxed and started to go into resting mode as his simulated heat mixed with your real one. He never had hugs, let alone cuddles, in this form. He was slightly overstimulated by the feeling of this closeness, yet Revenant loved every second of it. The way your slender and small body cuddled closer and closer against his metal one, searching as much contact with him as possible, was the sweetest feeling ever- well, still not as sweet as taking a life of course. He looked down to you as your face was hidden in his neck and your arms were around his waist. The sim suddenly froze as your hands ran down his back and patted him there. Your palm sent a warm flush through his system wherever you touched him, whenever you touched him. The blanket was now covering both of you as you layed there in each other's arms. "Feeling better?" You asked with a chuckle. "I want to hold you close forever." He mumbled, almost weakly. Your cheeks blushed heavily as you heard his voice above you. You now just realized how closer you were to him. Holy shit?! His thin, skeletal fingers were brushing along your waist as he growled in satisfaction. You returned the gesture and once again ran your hands down his back gently. He slightly leaned his head down, resting his face in your hair while you still had yours in his neck. You were surprised how warm he actually is. You knew he had a heating system, you also had felt it before. But never, definitely never that heavy. "You're almost burning. Seems like your heating system broke. Should I fix it for you?" You laughed tiredly in his arms. "Oh, shut up and be glad I'm not skinning you. I could use your head as a decoration for my wall." Yup, there he was, classical murder sim. It was difficult to take him serious this time, being cuddly like a cat in your bed. He kept his head resting on yours as his systems started to turn off and now completely go into resting mode. His body went slightly numb against your and you grinned. "Sleep well, Rev. " You mumbled with a smirk as you now closed your eyes again to fall asleep in this big murderous arms of a killer bot.

THANK YOU FOR READING😘😘 I'm sorry if the grammar is bad, english's not my mother tongue. 😅🙏🙏

I just had to write this for MY LOVE REVENANT❤

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nasty-redrum · 2 months ago

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❥ ENJI TODOROKI X FEM!READER

❥ WORD COUNT: 1.7k

❥ WARNINGS/TAGS: stuckage (aka you get stuck and fucked), major dub-con, some ass play, spitting (on your ass), degradation, creampie, Enji is dirty and mean and he's really not sorry for it

→ Kinktober Masterlist ←

The sink of spandex between your thighs reminds him of why you are such a vexation. Fabric stretches across the mound of your cunt as you struggle, a perfect contour of what lies just out of reach.

“Finally found something you can’t escape, hm?”

Enji hears your scoff echo across the panes of the air duct, elbows pinging the metal as you try to shift your weight.

You won’t slip away. Not this time.

“Pull me out,” your hips arch and shake with your demand.

The hero claws inside his chest, your plea reaching his sensibilities. But the curve of your thick, open legs strokes a more sinister flame in the pit of his stomach.

“Where’s the fun in that? I’ve chased you for long enough.” He deserves a reward.

For a cat burglar, he expected you to be more clever. Yet here you are, stuck at the waist in the old factory’s ventilation, in a hole your thighs were never going to breach no matter how much you struggled.

Now he gets to be the judge and jury of your punishment.

“Almost like you wanted to be caught,” he muses to himself as he finally gives in to the itch to sink his fingers into the fat of your ass.

Your gasp sounds like the hiss of air down the duct, shrill and quick. You’re not a naive villain—you know what’s coming.

Blunt nails scrape against your costume, black threads splitting with just a fraction of the force he can give.

Your skin spreads into view like a ripe fruit being peeled. Sweet flesh is already dripping as he snaps away the spandex over your cunt, a thrill sparking in his cock at the sight of your pussy lips opening as you wiggle yourself in his hold.

“Oh you fucking pervert! Let me go!”

He could. He should. He won’t.

Intentions are made clear when his massive hand cups your cunt, thumb rubbing over your asshole as he grips your body, shoving you tighter into your trap.

You grunt and groan, shoulders thumping against metal. You seem to be testing your flexibility in a guise to rub yourself back against the palm of his hand. Your wetness smears against his skin, labia spreading against callouses.

He presses his hand until he finds the swell of your clit. A muffled moan makes him rub hard, hard enough to have a muscle in your thigh clenching and shaking.

Grinning, he spits a string of saliva to drip down onto your ass, moving his thumb just enough to catch the lubrication and smother it against your puckered hole. He dips his thick digit into your ass and delights at how you buck back against him.

“You’re a better whore than a thief.”

There’s no denial, just short moans against metal at each thrust of his thumb into your ass. He twists the digit in your tight cavern, moving his fingers away from your cunt so he can watch your pussy clench in anticipation of more.

You’re a prettier sight than he imagined, already messy, body begging for his touch. He’s had many frustrated nights fisting his dick to dreams of catching you.

Enji toys with you just long enough to get his cock fully hard and aching.

You whine as he pulls away, hips pushing back like you’re searching for him, desperate and needy.

He keeps quiet as he unbuckles his suit, wrapping his cock in his hand and pumping, squeezing his fingers around the base of his cockhead.

Taking advantage of you shouldn’t turn him on so much, yet his balls feel heavy as he watches you panic, unable to see the world behind you.

Your head clinks against the air duct, your trapped hands slapping against the bottom.

“En…Endeavor? Please. Please don’t leave me like this.”

He hates that he won’t be able to see the look in your eyes when he fucks you, but it’s too much of a risk to let you free. You’ll slip away like every time before.

You purr with comfort when he grips your ass, pulling at the fat until your pussy is spread to hungry, flaming eyes.

He bursts your relief by prodding his cock into your wetness. Your cunt clenches at the feel of him and he can practically smell your fear.

“I’m not going anywhere, little whore.”

It takes a few purposeful thrusts to get his thick cock to push inside you, your cunt stretching and burning at his intrusion. He doesn’t care to hurt you, mean hands wrapping around your thighs and using your weight to pull your pussy down his cock.

He doesn’t want you ready, he wants to feel your struggle, feel the tightness of your pussy as he punishes you.

Whimpering as he finally gets his length inside you, you grind back against him. He can’t tell if you’re trying to push him out or pull him in.

It doesn’t matter what you want; what matters is what you can give him.

Your pussy starts to gush as he begins his pace—quick, deep, balls slapping against your clit.

Enji’s fascinated by the sight of your wet flesh dragging along his length, sucking so securely it’s like you’re afraid he’s going to leave again.

“I’ve got you,” he sneers in some twisted sense of heroism.

Your reply moan is bubbly, as if you’ve resigned yourself to take whatever you can get.

He pulls your hips up, squishing your body to the top of the air duct as he gets into the heat of his stride. He’s blinded by the pleasure of your warm, went cunt, lost to the primal urge to take, to use.

It’s too easy to abuse you. So small, so exposed. You’re putty in his hands as he spreads you apart even wider, shreds of fabric shuddering against the bounce of your ass.

You sound like an animal trapped in the wall, yelping and cooing all the same as his fat cockhead bullies into your depths.

“You like being a cocksleeve,” he grunts, “your cunt’s so fucking wet.”

Cream is building at his base, smearing into red curls. Your stomach flutters at his words and he realizes he can feel himself in your core.

He could break you if he isn’t careful.

Yet he doesn’t slow down, barely breaking a sweat as he pushes harder, faster, jaw clenching as he chases his high.

He drops one of your thighs, pulling the other higher around his waist as he pounds a fist into the brick wall. The new leverage has your body slipping farther down the chute, trapping you more snugly.

“P-please,” you pant, nails scraping against the metal prison, “I c-can’t take it…”

“Don’t fucking care. You’re cunt’s mine.”

Your ass ripples as his muscular thighs slap against yours, slick dripping into the rips of your costume.

“Such a stupid little girl. This is what happens when you, ah, run from me.”

He can’t hear any response over the wet slap of skin against skin, the slurp of your greedy cunt.

Putting his hips flush to yours, he grinds into your cunt, so deep he knows it hurts.

His hand scrapes up your thigh, big fingers searching for your clit. When his index finger swirls against your swollen bud, you scream, the sound reverberating like a confession in your trap.

Enji presses his forehead to the wall, eyes closing as he feels hot pleasure starting to build in his balls, twitching in his cock.

“Go on,” he pinches your clit between his fat fingers, “cum, cum little whore.”

Your body starts to shake as you whimper, thighs quivering as you lose control. He rubs two fingers against your clit as he pushes harder into you, motions getting sloppy.

Enji grunts, “I said cum, fucking cum.”

He slams into you so roughly that he hears the air duct creak from his pressure. He puts his focus into filling you, stretching you, letting you feel his cockhead spear against the abused, gummy spots inside your cunt.

Your orgasm is rough, sputtering, slick gushing against where he invades the tight suck of your pussy. You thrash against his hold and whine like a bitch in heat, rolls and smashes of pleasure fissuring down every nerve, making your legs kick.

Against every lingering heroic instinct, Endeavor lets himself fill your guts with his cum.

He feels like a volcanic eruption, spewing flames from his skin and molten cum from his balls. You keep him sucked tight as he unloads, cum spilling from the tight squeeze and down your thighs.

His chest heaves with deep breaths, blue eyes opening to stare down at the havoc he’s wrecked.

Your poor body is limp, lodged around his impaling cock. Sweat, cum, and slick drip down your thighs, his fingerprints bruised into your skin. Your costume has come apart even more, peeling down your legs like he’s ripped you apart.

He wonders for a moment if you’ve suffocated; if he’s fucked you to death.

After a few moments, you stir, one weak hand knocking against the air duct.

“For the love of god…” you choke.

Heating the metal just enough to make it malleable, he bends the air duct away from your sweaty, shaking body. Then he tugs you without care, letting you fall onto the floor before his feet.

“Suck me clean.”

A dumb girl would’ve run on shaky, messy legs. But like the smart girl you are, you get on your knees and pop his heavy cock between your lips.

He smirks at the mess of makeup on your face as you look up at him, tongue flat as you lick his cum from underneath his shaft.

Enji grips the hair on the back of your head, shoving your face down to his balls for you to suck the mess you’ve made.

“Not gonna run again, are you?”

“I might,” your moan vibrates against oversensitive skin, “if it means I get your cock again.”

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nasty-redrum · 2 months ago

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Another day as a human warrior on Yautja Prime... I should really name this series.

Gore warning.

Not proofread, I'll go over it in the morning after I get some rest and correct any grammar or mistakes.

Your first hunting trip with a group that doesn't include your master. You aren't anxious. A little nervous, sure, but you've held your own in solo hunts before. Hunting with a group should be no different.

Yautja typically tend to spread off on their own in bigger hunting parties anyway, only sticking together to take down invading yautja from other clans or particularly dangerous prey.

It's only meant to be a hunt to gather meat for the clan, nothing too big or serious.

Your master had been the one to shove you towards the group of yautja, around your age, mostly male. They didn't seem thrilled that you were there, but they wouldn't go against your master's wishes. Most of the yautja in the clan didn't like you, not because you were human—

Okay, perhaps there was some bias against your species, but it was mostly because they saw you as soft and weak. Unworthy.

They only ever saw you hiding away in your master's cave, sewing and threading, seemingly your speciality. They saw you return with small trophies of prey you had taken down on your own, but nothing noteworthy yet.

However, you were certainly praised for the collection of pelts you had acquired during these hunts. You certainly had a knack for skinning creatures and crafting sturdy pelts, your smaller hands must make threading easier.

But decorations only went so far with the yautja.

The dense fog lowered visibility rates in the thick forests of your clan's territory. The tall trees resembled that of thick pine forests back on earth. At least, from what you can remember anyway. Your clan's territory sat at the foot of a large mountain, covered by a large forest that always had an air of fog surrounding it. Thankfully, this meant that this region of Yautja Prime wasn't as hot as the rest of the planet.

Something you're thankful for.

A clicking rumble breaks you away from your thoughts as you look over, a presence hovering over you closely. His broad chest nearly brushing against your shoulder, his helmet a little too close to your head.

"Human, focus." He uttered in short, rapid clicks. He tilts his head to the side, his long mid-back length dreadlocks hanging from his dusty beige shoulders, darker brown spots freckling in from his back.

Auhta.

One of the few yautja who didn't seem outright disgusted by you.

He wouldn't go out of his way to speak to you, but he didn't snarl in disdain when seeing you in the camp either. As far as yautja went, he was relatively friendly.

He treated you like any other yautja who had yet to prove themselves.

Perhaps it was because he was a Youngblood, a yautja who hadn't gone on his Trial yet. By that definition, did that make you a Youngblood as well? Perhaps it did.

He jumped down from the tree you two were crouched in, patiently waiting for you to clamper back down. Once you did, he led the way through the marsh to track down a herd of blood-pigs you both had tracked down. He had insisted that you come along with him while the rest of the hunting party split up to cover more ground.

You observed him while trailing along at his side. Eyeing the neckpiece he wore. A necklace that shielded his throat, made mostly of metal and bones with several feathers added for decoration, and a small bird skull as the centrepiece on his collarbone. It was quite pretty. Honestly, his armour, in general, was quite aesthetically pleasing.

"Where did you get that necklace from? Did you make it yourself? It looks nice." You commented, tilting your head forward to get a better look at it. You were quite similar to a bird when it came to pretty accessories.

Auhta lifted his chin, slowing his movements and puffing out his chest. Almost showing off? He quickly catches himself afterwards and marches forward, outpacing you to walk slightly ahead of you.

"This 'small talk' is not necessary. You have a tendency to talk too much about too little." He chuffs as he keeps his gaze straight ahead, shoulders squared.

Rude...

He turns his head to glance at you from over his shoulder. Oh crap, did you say that out loud? You didn't mean to express that, but you don't regret it either. It was rude of him to disregard your interest in accessories.

Auhta is quiet as he lamented the interaction. Rude? He wasn't being rude. He was helping to save your breath. What was rude about that? He doesn't allow the bemused grumble to escape from his chest.

A loud roar echoes through the forest, instantly setting the two of you on edge. He clicks lowly, lowering himself to a crouch in the direction of the thunderous cry, positioned slightly in front of you.

You back away towards a tree, turning to climb up it to get the high ground. Whatever that sound was, it sounded big.

A large red beast that resembled an oversized praying mantis crashed through the clearing, unholy noises bellowing from its disturbing figure. A Quatza-Rij. One of the deadliest beasts on Yautja Prime.

And the two of you were severly underprepared.

Yet that didn't deter Auhta. He sucked in a breath, widening his stance and opening his arms as a roar bellowed from him. Accepting this challenge almost immediately. He charged forward, directly bodying the beast that was a whole head taller than him.

You knew that he couldn't take it on alone.

You couldn't waste any time. Both of your lives were on the line in this moment. You grabbed your hunting knife from your belt, leaping down from the tree and driving the blade into the beast's neck. Clinging onto its back as its roar pierced your ears. Its raptorial legs occupied by Auhta's attempts to brute force his way through the battle.

But it's snapping jaw dug into your forearm as you held onto its neck, shredding and tearing into your flesh with its small razor teeth. You yowl in pain as you stab the blade deeper into its neck. Auhta is eventually overpowered by the beast, forced onto the forest floor below as the Quatza-Rij throws you off of its back and onto the marsh a distance away, knocking the air out of your lungs.

You suck in breaths of desperate air as you push yourself to your knees. You certainly have the red creature's attention now. You look down at the marsh beneath you, the soggy ground slowly swallowing you up. An idea forming in your head.

"Hey, ugly! Over here!" You called as you got up, waving your arms around to catch its attention. Once you're certain that it's looking, you pull a brave and valiant manoeuvre.

You run away.

The beast roars as it chases after you. Your legs taking you through the marsh as fast as possible as it progressively gets deeper and deeper. At one point, you fall straight in, now covered head to toe in mud. You lift yourself up just enough to peek over the wet ground that threatens to take you. Holding your breath as the Quatza-Rij approaches.

The large beast wades through the mud, having lost track of you. You wait until it's directly on top of you...

As slowly as you can, you raise your arm towards its underbelly, your sickle grasped firmly in your soiled hands, adjusting your grip before you strike. You hook the curled blade inside of the soft part of its tummy, leveraging yourself inside of its stomach. The Quatza-Rij bellows in agony before you yank it down towards you, trapping it in the marsh.

The air inside your lungs are screaming for release the longer you stay under the mud. You could very well die doing this, but you'd die with honour.

You don't have to think about your funeral for long before you feel the beast being yanked out of the mud. You cling onto the handle of your sickle as you gasp for air, flailing around slightly as you're held up high. Still dangling from your sickle. Yet the weight of gravity catches up, your sickle dragging down the belly of the beast as you fall, gutting it in your descent.

You land on the soggy ground with a wet thump. Grunting as you looked at the scene before you.

Auhta had pulled the Quatza-Rij from the marsh, holding its corpse high above his head as he drenched himself in its blood. A roar of triumphant victory echoing through the forest. He shakes his head as the thick crimson liquid soaks him, celebrating in the shared conquering of such a great beast.

Yet as he lets the body drop down onto the forest floor, he looks around, almost frantically.

"Human?!" He bellows, a tinge of concern pitching his roar in a way that had been previously unfamiliar to you.

"Here!" You called, flicking some mud at him as you sat up. Right. Thermal vision. He probably thought that you didn't make it after he couldn't find your heat signature despite the fact that you were literally sitting at his feet.

A trilling chuff escaped him as he looked in the direction of where he heard your voice, his chest still heaving from exertion. He holds his hand out in your general direction. His hand twitched after you placed your palm on his, lifting you up from the ground.

"Well done. The elders shall be pleased with our hunt," He purrs, hauling the Quatza-Rij up on his shoulder. He looks down at you, still holding your hand. "You fought honourably."

His praise makes you feel warm inside. A genuine compliment from him felt incredibly good. There was just something about being complimented by your peer that made you feel prideful.

"As did you," You smile as you both start walking towards the camp, eager to show off your shared kill to the clan. You look down at your still joined hands. "You're holding my hand?"

He chuffs once again.

"I can't see you." He justifies as his grip tightens on your smaller hand, not wanting to lose you.

No, this is not the same yautja from my other post about the yautja gifting you a pelt. This is a different one. I'll write a part two about the other one... eventually. I'll write it when I feel like it lol

Taglist [OPEN] — @nerdylawyerbanditprofessor-blog , @distinguishedprincesstrash , @gremlinartstudio , @me753

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nasty-redrum · 2 months ago

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Do you think yautjas headbutt/tap foreheads to show affection. And would it be considered in the same way we humans kiss? And then interlocking mandibles be a more intimate version of kissing?

Inspo comes from the fact that Mandalorians will tap helmets to "kiss"

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nasty-redrum · 2 months ago

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Random things I think your Yautja Mate would hate

(Filled with headcanons that may not be accurate btw but I don’t care it’s my house)

Being called “Baby”: Does not fuck with that at all. They might find 90% of your pet names endearing, except that one. Do not infantilize them, they hates to think you see them as weak and vulnerable as a baby is. Would honestly loved to be called “Elder” or “Senior Citizen” instead, at least age has some pride to it.

Beds: Yautja don’t really sleep in ‘comfortable’ conditions, their mattress are very stiff and only adorned by furs from valuable prey they’ve killed. Besides that, they often camp on in trees or on forest floors, even in the worst of weather. So squishy human mattresses and fluffy pillows are not their thing, they always feel like they’re sinking. Plus the bed frame can hardly handle their full weight. But blankets are the worst, why would you want to be constricted and tangled up like that in your sleep?? On the plus side, they’ll never hog your sheets. In fact, they may just prefer the floor.

Perfume/Cologne: Okay, so if it’s the exact same scent you had on you the day you met, they can tolerate it. But anything outside of that is a no-go. Scent is largely how they familiarize others and smelling something foreign basically always registers as a threat. If you change it regularly, you might find all your perfume bottles in the trash one day. They find your natural body odor delectable anyway, nasties. If you switch it up on them once randomly, they straight up nearly attack you until they realized what happened and then make you swear to never do it again.

Haircuts: Their dreads are full of sensitive nerves, they’re a large part of Yautja affection and cutting them is a huge, painful sacrifice. So when you have to cut yours at least a few times a year? Horror story, basically. Literally flinches every time they see the scissor snip. They know, logically, that your hair is different from theirs but they still see the equivalent of an amputation.

Shaving: On a similar note, they don’t understand why you would ever want to get ride of your natural fur. Granted, they won’t try to fight this one as hard, but they actually love your fuzzy little hairs and get rather disappointed whenever your skin is freshly smooth.

Periods (if you get them): Another one that they logically know is normal and healthy, but they cannot stand to smell blood on you for an entire week. Their instincts are screaming that their mate is injured and they need to do something to fix it, but they just can’t. You pretty much get doted on and treated like you’re dying of an exotic illness.

Processed foods: They’re diet is a solid 60% meat they killed and 40% fruits/vegetables they foraged. All raw, of course. Cooking seems like a huge waste of time to them but they understand you needing to get rid of harmful bacteria. What they don’t understand is like…Takis. Or Candy Corn. Or Dr.Pepper. Like, anything that didn’t come directly from nature disgusts them to no end, they taste only pure chemicals and they cannot fathom how you eat a whole bag of gummy bears.

Clothes: Okay it’s not that they hate clothes, they just don’t understand your hesitation with nudity. To them, being naked means you are content and relaxed, even if you happen to be surrounded by strangers. They don’t really get body shame. What do you mean you don’t want your belly showing? Why are male chests more okay than female chests? Who cares if your genitals are out? Obviously some clothes have some purpose, but do oomans seriously need special garments just to not get embarrassed while they swim? How absurd.

If anyone else has any they’d like to share, please do! I love the differences in Yautja and human culture.

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nasty-redrum · 2 months ago

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Hi. I was thinking of asking you to write about Elder Yautja and a pregnant reader (hope that's ok, I couldn't find anything about whether you write about pregnancy or not...). They fly to Earth because she is madly wanting to "smell a hedgehog, no, this thing doesn't fit, I want a hedgehog from Earth" (or something like that, I'm not insisting, just so you get the idea). They meet the special forces/military, they classically try to kill them, and our favorite elder has hunted so many people in his long life that he's had enough of it (he's interested in hunting something scarier and spending time with his favorite wife-queen-life) and he just: *tired sigh* 😒

Here you go, I loved this idea so much, hope you’ll like the story too🫶🏻

Elder Yautja x Pregnant Human Reader

Cravings and carnage

He hunted monsters thrice as big as him. He torn spines from warlords. He survived galactic wars, assassination attempts, and the idiocy of youngbloods and yet, none of that prepared him for you, barefoot on the deck of his ship, swollen with his child, waving a human fruit catalog at his face.

"I want watermelon,"

You declare, eyes narrowed, tone threatening.

“Not that tiny melon, not whatever that purple slop was yesterday. I want a real one. From Earth."

Your mate, towering, scarred, and very, very tired stares at you for a long moment. Then he makes a sound so deep and guttural it's probably a growl but could also be a sigh. Maybe a death wish.

"You said you want mango yesterday."

He rumbles.

"I changed my mind,"

You say sweetly, rubbing your belly. "Your child wants watermelon."

He pauses. That always works. You know it. He knows it. The baby is a card you shamelessly play.

“Fine…"

He grunts, pressing something on the console. You're getting your watermelon. The ship lowered into a clearing near a rural farming town. It was peaceful. Dark. Quiet. Ideal for a stealthy retrieval. But, of course, nothing ever goes smoothly when humans with guns are involved.

You stayed in the ship, mostly because he commanded you to, while your Elder stepped into the night, cloaked and nearly invisible, heading toward the nearest melon field with the calm patience of a warrior delivering a sacred offering. He had almost reached the field when the first helicopter appeared. Then two. Ground units followed, and soon the voices of human military echoed through the trees.

“Unidentified craft! Stand down!”

He sighed.

Literally.

A long, deep, guttural sigh.

When they fired the first warning shot, his mask deployed.

When they fired the second?

Heads rolled.

You nibbled on a protein bar in the ship, lazily lounging in the captain’s chair, occasionally glancing at the scanners. Blips disappeared one by one. The ship’s control beeped politely.

“Hostile forces neutralized.”

Moments later, the side ramp opened with a whoosh, and there he was. Covered in blood (none of it his) dragging a massive sack. He dropped it at your feet. Inside there were four perfect, massive watermelons. You squealed with delight.

“They smell so good!”

Your Elder just collapsed next to you on one of the padded benches, huffing out another long sigh, resting a blood-slicked hand on your belly.

“I am retiring.”

He rumbled.

“Sure, honey.”

You said, cracking open the first melon with his machete.

Later that night you were curled up beside him in bed, your belly against his side, fingers lazily tracing the long scar across his chest.

“You’re so good to me.”

You whispered.

His claws gently stroked your back. “You are my queen. It is an honor to slay armies for your satisfaction.”

You giggled. He leaned down, resting his forehead against yours.

“Next time,”

He growled softly.

“Warn me before you demand a fruit that requires diplomatic incidents.”

“No promises..”

You murmured, kissing the underside of his mandible.

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nasty-redrum · 2 months ago

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Thinking of a yautja who is just super curious about your tattoos. How the ink is etched into your arms, your neck, your back, and a little on your chest. He finds himself tracing them. Tilting his head to look at them, studying them. He especially likes the one on your neck. Loves to press his whole palm around it to see if he can engulf the tattoo with his entire hand.

"This one," he said.

"Got it a year ago," you said as you laid your head on his chest, his hand lightly squeezing your neck, squishing the skin of where the tattoo was, "i don't know why i got it," you ended up saying, "just thought it looked cool, I guess."

You didn't seem at all perturbed with his hand around your throat, you just relaxed in his grip as he continued to adjust and readjust his grip on your neck, almost as if he was massaging your throat.

You wondered if he'll ask about the others and what he will think about the ones he can't see yet.

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nasty-redrum · 2 months ago

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A little slutty excerpt from one of my completed reader y/n fanfics.

Predator x Human ship. Spoiler! Contains Sexual Themes/ Bondage

You creep down the stairs--feeling the dusty sift of the unswept stairs cling to your naked feet.

The warmth of the furnace buffets against you like a jungle sun. The heat somehow swells the darkness...makes it more inky, far more inescapable.

The hunter rumbles in the dark, awakened and tracking your movement through the shadow. You don't dare turn on the lights.

You speak with a voice as rich as tung oil, "Be good for me and we won't be needing the rope."

The imposing space of the cellar is quiet until it is broken. His voice a rich and curious trill. You have memorized the steps it takes to reach him, boldly you reach out to touch his iron belly.

It ripples under your light touch.

You are well below his jaws striking distance, and thankfully with all his excited clicking you can pinpoint the position of those dangerous mandibles.

Slowly you slide down and palm those scale-pursed balls. He breathes raptorial, bucking into your hand.

You kneel down before him, blowing hot breath deliberately against his slitted sheath, pressing your lips to his skin to kiss it hot.

Peppering him with your lips, you run the dagger of your tongue into the fleshy rift, trawling a moan into the long opening length of him.

He grunts. You can hear his talons dig into the wooden post--the sound like the sea pressing down on the aching wood of an old ship.

His cock grows out of him, long and hard, glistening with foreign metal and arousal.

You lick at the oozing tip to taste the spark of his galvanized stud. It's bright and thorny against your tongue's flesh, sizzling and buzzing like an angry hornet nesting in your mouth.

You give him another long deep taste, pulling him to your mouth as if his flesh was made of the most ripe and malty sapodilla fruit.

Then you pull yourself out of your sweats cautiously, the cold hissing against your flooded pussy. Testing the reaction of your flesh to his drippings

You swirl your hand over his cock, then dive those same fingers into your vagina.

A pang of darkest want pulses inside your cunt. A savage bite of toothless insides.

You cannot wait any longer. Spinning yourself around to notch yourself against his penis.

He trills low and brutal as a chainsaw. It's obvious how dreadfully excited he is to be sleeved inside you once more.

///

When Mercy Had None Left.

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nasty-redrum · 2 months ago

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FIRST HUSBAND PRANK. yautja x human!reader

You knew your cultures were not the same, and that their humor was ... vastly different from your own. However, that didn't stop you from wanting to prank your husband/mate.

That is - if you could manage to trick him in the first place.

All too quickly, at the start of your relationship, you learned that you could never pull a fast one on him. If it was his instincts telling him you were up to something or if you were just too obvious, you didn't know, but you still wanted to try.

"Just sit here with me, ok?"

You two were on his ship, and you felt like it was a good time to send a message to your mother. How she was ok with you leaving her to be with your alien husband, you weren't sure, but you also weren't complaining.

Tapping a few buttons to start the recording, you then plopped into his lap and smiled, "Hey mom," you began, " just wanted to give you an update on how me and my first husband are-"

Almost immediately, he stood up, his fingers digging into your sides as he held you against him, his mandibles brushing your face until one of them dug a bit into your skin making you laugh and pull away.

"First?! Who's the second?!"

"Oh, you know~," you teased making him groan.

"No, I dont- who is he?"

"Why do you need to know?"

You couldn't keep yourself from laughing or leaning into him.

"So I can kill him and put his skull on display-"

You kissed his cheek, "ok, ok- no need to go that far, I was only kidding! It was a prank, I promise."

He will never understand human humor. Ever.

Meanwhile, your mother sighed as she shut off the recording you (accidentally) sent her. At least you were happy...

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nasty-redrum · 2 months ago

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I wonder how much random gossip alien's hear while stalking for potential prey. Then they got home to their clan and its just:

"So observed these humans and apparently women are seen as objects? If I objectified a woman she'd kill me!"

"I was stalking a group of humans in the desert. And then they started mating... really loud... with cameras pointed at them." "No a whole group, there was 10."

"I watched a white woman tame a bear and out a sweater on it."

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nasty-redrum · 2 months ago

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Iwao Oguro (Knuckleduster)

Head-Canons (0)

One-Shots (1)

[Summary] For some reason you a nurse nurse couldn't stop bumping into the vigilante to the point that a relationship form

[Genre] fluff / Strangers To Lovers? [Pairing / Characters] Iwao Oguro (Knuckleduster) x Nurse Reader

Imagines (0)

Mini-Fics (0)

Iwami Oguro (Knuckleduster)

(Fem! Iwao Oguro)

Head-Canons (0)

One-Shots (0)

Imagines (0)

Mini-Fics (0)

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nasty-redrum · 2 months ago

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hi ur literally a gem for doing this bc the lack of content for mha vigilantes is actually sending me into a frenzy

anyway!! would it be okay to request knuckleduster x gn!reader? maybe smth like strangers to lovers/fateful meetings almost? and the reader doesnt have to be a hero or vigilante they can just be a regular person that somehow got tied up in the middle of it or smth

hope that fits ur criteria and apologies if smths off😭

[A/N] the first post I made that isn't zzz... Nice, anyway I didn't know if you wanted a head cannon or one shot so yeah next time just make sure the I know what you want fully and maybe a little ooc so yeah; hope you enjoy

[type] One-Shot

[word count] 1,800+

[Summary] For some reason you a nurse nurse couldn't stop bumping into the vigilante to the point that a relationship form

[Genre] fluff / Strangers To Lovers?

[pairing / characters] Iwao Oguro (Knuckleduster) x Nurse Reader

You still don’t fully understand how you got wrapped up with the vigilantes. One minute, you were just walking home from your shift at the hospital.exhausted, still wearing your nurse uniform, mentally cursing out every difficult patient you'd dealt with that day. The next, your life was tangled up in something way bigger than yourself.

You turned into an alleyway, taking your usual shortcut like always. Behind you, faint at first, you heard people screaming sharp, panicked cries that prickled at the back of your neck. You paused, heart beginning to race. Then came another sound, closer this time. Not a voice, didn't even sound human. A low, guttural roar that rolled through the alley like thunder. It wasn’t a cry for help. It was something far worse.

You turned around slowly, not out of curiosity, but fear, heavy and cold in your gut. Down the alleyway, barely illuminated by flickering streetlights, you saw what you could only guess was a man. Or used to be one. His skin was an unnatural shade of blue, his bloodshot eyes wide and unblinking. Ice crawled up his arms and legs like armor, jagged and uneven, and you could see the tips of his fingers blackened with frostbite, just like his tongue when he let it loll out, panting like some kind of beast.

You’re frozen. Stuck. Your body refuses to move. The man or whatever he is stares you down with eyes full of desperation and rage. It’s not just anger. It’s hunger. You try to speak, to scream, but nothing comes out. Then, without warning, he lets out another guttural roar and charges. Ice explodes beneath his feet, spreading like a wave as he sprints straight toward you

You try to step back, but your foot lands on a glass bottle. It rolls, and you slip, crashing down hard onto the cold concrete. Pain shoots through your palms as they smack the ground, but you barely notice it. Your eyes lock on the charging man.he’s only three feet away now. One thought flashes through your mind, cold and final 'Is this how I die?'

But then, just as the thought forms, a fist swings past your head, fast, brutal, and perfectly timed. It slams into the man’s face with a sickening crack, sending him flying backward like a ragdoll.

A gruff, rugged voice came from behind you. “Heh, you’re not getting away from me that easily.” You turned, still sprawled on the cold pavement, and looked up. Towering behind you stood a man who looked like he’d fought through a dozen wars and didn’t bother patching up after any of them. He was broad-shouldered and built like a wall, dressed in a worn dark grey jacket with the sleeves rolled up, exposing scarred forearms. His face was rough unshabby and weathered. A faded mask covered his eyes, and there was something dangerous in the way he held himself.

You try to thank him for the save, but he doesn’t even glance your way. It’s like he didn’t hear you or just didn’t care. His focus is locked on the man he just flattened. Without a word, he strides forward and grabs the unconscious man by the collar, yanking him up with ease, like lifting a bag of trash. “Weak,” he mutters under his breath, more to himself than anyone else. His eyes narrow as he inspects the frostbitten tongue hanging out of the man’s mouth, as if it confirms something he already suspected.

From where you’re still sitting on the ground, you can tell he’s annoyed. He clearly wanted to ask the man some questions, but he’d hit him too hard and knocked him out cold. With a grunt of frustration, he drops the unconscious body like dead weight.

Then, finally, he turns his attention to you. “Hey. You.” The sudden acknowledgment makes you flinch, your heart jumping as you blurt out, “Y-Yes?” He jerks his chin toward the limp body. “Call the police, won’t you?”

“O-oh! I can do that,” you stammer, fumbling to pull your phone from your pocket. You start dialing the police, glancing down at the screen as you speak. “Also, thank you again for the—” But when you look up, he’s gone. Just like that. Only the unconscious man remains, crumpled on the pavement. “—save,” you finish quietly, the word feeling a little foolish now.

---

It’s been a week since you saw that man. You’re still not sure if he’s a hero at least, not in the legal sense of the word. But technically, he is your hero.

Ugh. That thought alone makes you cringe, and you mentally roll your eyes at yourself as you walk past the alleyway you used to take as a shortcut. Lesson learned. You’ve avoided it ever since.

But just as you’re about to keep moving, a familiar, gravelly grunt echoes from the shadows. You freeze. It’s faint, but you recognize it. Weirdly enough… it sounds like him.

You sneak a peek into the alleyway and there he is. The man that save you. One man already lies unconscious behind him, while he’s locked in a fierce brawl with another, much larger opponent. Somehow, he’s holding his own. Every move is fast, brutal, precise. It’s like watching a street fight choreographed by nature itself. You can’t help but stare until something catches your eye.

The unconscious man is stirring. Slowly, quietly, he starts to rise. Your hero hasn’t noticed. 'Oh no. What should I do?' The man behind him braces his stance, his arm beginning to harden like stone. Instinct takes over. “Watch out! Behind you!” you shout.

Your hero doesn’t hesitate. He sidesteps just in time, narrowly dodging the hardened punch, then spins on his heel and drives a crushing blow into the ambusher’s gut. The man doubles over with a choked gasp, collapsing like the wind’s been knocked from his soul.

After finishing off the second guy complete with another quick check of his tongue, for whatever reason your hero stood tall. You just watched again, hands at your sides, but at least this time… you’d helped. And then, for the first time, he actually acknowledged you. Properly.

“Thanks,” he said, flashing a big, toothy grin. Most people might have found it unsettling, like a wild dog showing teeth but to you, oddly enough, it was… kind of charming. He wasn’t acting like he did last time either. Less distant. More human.

You coughed into your hand and gave a small, awkward nod. “It was no problem. I mean, you saved me, after all.” He tilted his head, brows scrunching beneath his mask. “I did?”

That caught you off guard. You frowned, mildly annoyed now. “What do you mean, ‘I did?’ You saved me. Just last week. In this exact—” you threw your hands out, gesturing around you “—alleyway!”

For a moment, he just blinked. Then his eyes lit up with recognition. “Ohhh… right. You’re the good looking nurse from last week!” he said, followed by a short, rough laugh. “Didn’t recognize you without the panic face.”

Your face went hot in an instant. Good looking? He actually called you good looking. You opened your mouth to respond with something sharp, something witty but nothing came out. Just air and a frustrated groan.

The man chuckled again, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Didn’t mean to rattle you,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “it's just that I remember you being all skittish.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to recover your dignity. “Well, someone had to keep you from getting sucker-punched." He grinned wider. “Fair enough. Guess that makes us even now, huh… nurse?”

"... Fine"

---

As the weeks passed, you started running into the vigilante more and more. Almost too often to be coincidence. You eventually learned his name: Knuckleduster. And the more it happened, the more you began to suspect he wasn’t just “passing by.”

He never admitted it, of course. But the way he lingered a bit longer after fights, the way his eyes always found you in a crowd, the way he smirked when you called him out on it. it all said more than words.

You got to know his partners well more like students, really. One was a fast-talking guy who slid around like a hockey puck with a jetpack, and the other, a sharp-eyed girl who soared through the air like it was second nature. You found yourself patching them up from time to time. Nothing too serious, just scrapes, bruises, and the occasional sprain.

But somehow, he always seemed to be the last one to get looked at. The one who waited behind while the others left. Sitting there with that cocky grin and battle-worn jacket, tossing out lines like, “You sure you're qualified for this?” just to get a rise out of you.

And yeah… maybe you looked forward to those moments a little more than you should have.

---

It was late, past midnight and the city outside your apartment buzzed quietly with distant sirens and the occasional honk. You’d barely managed to unlock your door with one hand, the other gripping Knuckleduster’s arm as he leaned heavily against you. His jacket was torn, and blood soaked through the side of his shirt.

“You know,” you muttered as you kicked the door shut behind you, “you could stop taking punches with your ribs. Just once.” He grunted in response, half amusement, half pain. “Wouldn’t be much of a fight if I dodged everything.”

You guided him to the worn stool in your kitchen and flicked on the overhead light. Harsh. Too bright. But necessary. “Shirt off,” you said flatly, already reaching for your first aid kit. He raised an eyebrow at you. “Getting bold, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, heat creeping into your cheeks anyway. “Shut up and lift your arms.” With a smirk, he peeled the shirt off, wincing slightly as dried blood tugged at the fabric. His torso was littered with scars, some old and faded, others fresh and angry. You swallowed and got to work, cleaning a gash along his ribs. His skin was warm under your fingers, muscles tensing slightly every time you dabbed antiseptic as you tried to ignore the closeness; even though you know that it's impossible to.

“You really need to learn what ‘taking it easy’ means,” you muttered. “I don’t get the luxury of easy,” he replied, voice low and gravelly. But he wasn’t looking at his wound. He was watching you. You kept your eyes on the bandages, pretending not to notice. A beat of silence passed. Then, softer: “You always do this?”

“What, patch up stubborn vigilantes in my kitchen? No. Just the reckless ones who keep showing up like strays.” He huffed a quiet laugh. “Lucky me.” You tied the bandage off, your fingers brushing the curve of his side. His breath hitched, just slightly. Your eyes finally met his close, quiet, charged.

“Next time,” you murmured, “try not to bleed on my welcome mat.” “I’ll aim for the couch,” he shot back, voice rough but teasing. And despite everything, the hour, the blood, the danger

you smiled.

The silence lingered after your smile, thick with something unsaid. You started to turn away, to clean up the bloodied gauze and wrappers, but his hand caught your wrist; gentle, calloused, firm.

You looked back at him, your breath hitching just a little. He didn’t say anything, just searched your face for a moment. Eyes softer now, less guarded than usual. Like he was trying to memorize you in this moment, the quiet calm between chaos.

“I keep showing up,” he said lowly, “because I know you’ll be here.” That stopped your heart for a second. No sarcasm. No smirk. Just honesty. Raw and stripped down.

You didn’t even realize you were leaning in until he was, too. Slow, like either of you might still back out. But neither of you did. The kiss was brief. Warm. A little rough around the edges, like him but real. And when you pulled back, his hand lingered on your wrist, thumb brushing your pulse.

“Guess I’ll be bleeding on your welcome mat again sometime soon,” he muttered, the smirk returning, but softer now. You rolled your eyes, but your lips curled anyway. “Just try not to make a habit of it.”

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