#I wrote this a while ago but I was scared to post it

[skrunksthatwunk]

yyh cast pet type headcanons!!

i am thinking about them and i am giving them animals to hang out with. yeag

hiei - falcon

falconeers don't really own their falcons. it takes a long time to build trust with them, and they can fly away at any time. they are wild animals

i think hiei would appreciate that untamed quality, and the speed, sight, and skill of them. i think he'd want a capable animal companion, if any at all

note: kuwabara would be freaked out by the emphasis on competence/functionality as well as the impermanence of it. he views animals as creatures to be protected and cherished, while hiei would rather spend time with something capable, self-sufficient, and useful (stealing this idea from my eikichi fic bc i think im right)

the closer an animal or an animal-owner relationship is to a baby/baby-parent relationship, the further he wants to be from it. it grosses him out a Lot. to him, it's like adopting an adult and then babytalking it

most peer-like relationship with animals

kurama - chia pet lol ferret/rat

i think he'd enjoy small, clever troublemakers

there's some tension inherent with kurama owning any prey animal (i think they sense his foxness), but if he finds one that isn't bothered by it, i think they'd get along just fine

enjoys training them

could keep them in his hair lol

somewhat used to short lifespans relative to his

relates to them and how they feel as animals to some extent, but he's much more likely to take control via a caretaker role than treat them as peers, like hiei

botan - chinchilla/sugar glider

i just think she'd like something soft fluffy and exotic. just seems like it'd suit her :)

pretty strong anti-reptile anti-bug bias. they freak her out

open to birds of a certain flavor. i think she'd like doves and pigeons for their dumb sweetheart-ness

also most likely to get something like a mini pig or a pygmy goat, though i think she would feel quickly overwhelmed by them

kuwabara - cats

obviously. *gestures to canon*

if i had to guess at a reason for it i'd say it's a matter of feeling appreciated. you generally can't get cats to do anything they don't want to do, so that means when they show you love, it's extra special. and i think his perseverence with challenges could help him win over even the most reluctant of cats, as well as his gentleness and unconditional love towards those critters

i think kuwa likes winning animals/people over and feeling chosen and seen

strong preference for very social animals, particularly mammals (so not, like, hermit crabs). i think he'd like dogs too

hates mice, so kurama's rats would be a bit weird for him

not huge on fish or reptiles, but willing/able to admire the coolness of them after freaking out for a bit. not huge on bugs and usually doesn't get over that

yusuke - it's complicated

i hate to say it but i don't think yusuke's really an animal person

HOWEVER. i do see him having a 50-year love-hate relationship with a sassy parrot. idk why i just think he'd argue with a bird

less used to short lifespans relative to him, would probably do better with something that lives longer, i.e. a parrot, while he's adjusting to that reality

bonus points bc he's kind of a bird (puu bird imagery)

though i think he'd appreciate feeling wanted and loved, i don't know that the responsibility of a pet would make him feel grounded and secure (i.e. kuwabara), but more anxious and constricted.

his carefree lifestyle would conflict with high maintenance pets, so he probably avoids them for a long time until he's ready to settle down

i think he likes dogs like he likes kids. they're cool to spend time with, but he's probably not gonna feel ready for them until they get dumped on him. i can see him dogsitting for keiko.

shizuru - cats, but for different reasons

a bit like hiei, i think she appreciates self-sufficiency and independence

not huge on kittens, see above

would really like a very chill very lowkey cat

yukina - hear me out. it's not birds

ok. i know birds are probably everyone's first thought bc of her bird friends at tarukane's, but i have a counter-proposal:

i think yukina loves birds but wouldn't want to trap them. she strikes me more as a feeding-birds-at-the-park type + knows what it's like to be trapped (and resents it)

she would be very willing to take in a wild bird that, due to injury or illness, could not be re-released. i think she'd love that

instead, i propose: hermit crabs and brine shrimp

yes im making her be into sea monkeys

my justifications for this are pretty limited. i mostly just think she'd be really into little guys. and i think she'd have a bit more interest in pets that would be considered weird or boring by others (i.e. cockroaches, beetles, tarantulas), especially if they come from non-icy climates. i can picture her holding everything from an iguana to a maggot with similar enthusiasm. but i think she'd likely start with small aquatic guys

plus, she feels a lot less bad about the trapping thing because they need to be in water to survive. it feels more right to her

anyway i just feel like she'd enjoy aquatic stuff. maybe because it's novel, if the ice world was too cold for them to be accessible

i like to think there's ponds on genkai's property that she could put koi or turtles in

oh dude can you imagine her with a frog terrarium bc i can

likes mammals as well, but fascinated with cold-blooded creatures due to novelty

keiko - hamster/gerbil/dog

i also struggled with her a lot, but i think she'd be a dog person

AND i also think she'd be into those small rodents, i.e. hamsters, gerbils, guinea pigs (for smth bigger). maybe she had a few as a kid and never really got bored with them like others did. quite passionate about their value as pets, very upset about how they are treated by broader communities

part of me says she'd want a little dog and part of me says she'd want a huge rowdy dog (a bit like yusuke), so maybe she can have both. as a treat :)

though if i had to place anyone as interested in raising farm animals (as livestock or as pets), it'd be her. idk why but i can see her caring for geese and pigs and stuff. she wouldn't mind the hard and often dirty work of it

genkai - tortoise

i think she'd appreciate a slow-paced, low maintenance kinda guy

long lifespan bonus

it's really easy for me to imagine a big tortoise on her compound just free roaming

or perhaps little turtles in ponds around the property

plus turtles kinda inherently have old lady swag to me

toguro - snake

he's used to things kinda climbing all over him

also appreciates the low maintenance aspect

would probably look at a snake dislocating its jaw to eat something whole and go "would you look at that,, you're pushing your limits to feed yourself,,, for you it's a matter of survival. truly i have much to learn" or some shit

sensui - chickens

uh. i don't have an explanation for this one. i think he and itsuki would raise chickens that's all

i think he would carry them under his arm and he'd like watching them walk around

koenma - dwarf hamsters

just the tiniest little fit-in-your-palm types. makes him feel bigger

i can just imagine one of those wire cages behind him in his office idk vibe checks out

[g0thsoojin]

🦴

[anonyanonymouse]

🙈

[paradoxlemonade]

I still can’t get over that one person who followed me despite having something a la “people who like whump and other gross things dni” and I’m just here like ma’am this is my house. We write whump here

[our-lady-of-mcr]

.

[jamisafan]

(A question that turned into a rant because I read an aroace Leo fic :D)

I just need clarification on something real quick.

When someone asks you out and you supposedly like them, your supposedly not supposed to feel super duper anxious to the point you feel on the verge of a panic attack and the deep feeling that you just really really don't want to feel like that anymore (the anxiousness) and in connection, don't want to go out with them.

I'm correct in this? Yes?

And when you find out someone had a crush on you, you supposedly aren't supposed to suddenly feel super anxious about it.

And your supposedly not supposed to fear people or close friends getting crushes on you or feel anxious when you start thinking they do?

Or, what about if someone flirts with you, and you flirt back. And you think, "Hey, this isn't so bad!" But then when it starts to become more your like.... nooooooooooo. Or maybe I do like people, and I'm in denile?

I've been friends with guys and some of my friends will start constantly saying "you like hiiiiimmm. He's you boyfrieeennnddddd." And suddenly I'm on the verge of tears and feeling all hot in the face and stressed and being like.... "do I like him?" When In reality, I probably don't..... I think???? AHWVEISVWEEK

Okay, I've been questioning being aroace for a while but I just read an aroace Leo fic and now I'm like...... that sounds about right (i also read loveless by alice oseman a bit ago and was like..... this main chracter me???) But I'm also not really..... against that stuff??? I'm more of a "if it happens it happens" type of person.

For example, if I someday meet a person that I just have a super crazy and deep connection with them, I won't really want them out of my life? I'd want to like..... hang out? I don't know if I can think of that romantically, if I'm being honest.

Idk. Maybe I'm in denile or something. Or I really just could care less about lables. I just don't know if I even care that much? If that makes sense.

I have my favorite fictional characters and my mom. That's all I really need. I love my mom, and I love my fictional characters! Like all the Leos, Cole from Ninjago, and Hunter from TOH!

And sure! All my siblings have gotten partners before, and I sometimes feel awkward during Christmas, BUT THATS FINE!!!!! And yeah, I feel the need to look away when people at school are being all flirty and touchy when they are dating, but hey! I can give them privacy and just quickly stroll on past them!

[suenitos]

oh . that’s not

what happened to hello

[screeching-bunny]

Yandere! Townspeople Harem x Lucky Reader

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

A/N: I have no clue what I was on when I wrote this 💀. This is also inspired by a Reddit post I saw long time ago.

🌟 Yandere! Townspeople who are absolutely enamored by you and everything that you do. They treat you as if you are some kind of entity waiting to be put on a golden pedestal and paraded around town. You are essentially the town’s golden boy/girl/person, a mascot if you can even call it that. In their eyes everything that you do is inspiring and encouraged. It also doesn’t help that you were born with this amazing power that causes you to become extremely lucky. No matter the deed, every action was thrust into the spotlight as if it were a gracious gesture for the community's well-being. Take, for instance, if you ever fatally shot someone the townsfolk would erupt in applause, discovering the individual to be a notorious mass murderer and your action saved the town.

🌟 Yandere! Townspeople who can’t help but gush over every miniscule achievement that you got. You got a perfect attendance award? They wouldn’t expect anything less from you. Did you just get a participation trophy? Well they're cheering for you as if you just won the world cup. To say their actions are embarrassing is definitely an understatement. Everytime they cheer for you, you can’t help but die a little bit on the inside.

🌟 Yandere! Townspeople who absolutely cannot fathom the idea of you moving out of their town. They would much rather skin themselves alive and commit arson than to allow you to leave them. Everywhere you go, there will always be some form of eyes on you. There will always be some type of survance of you at any time of the day. Depending on the person, the townspeople's love for you can either be platonic or romantic. Basically half of the town wants to fuck your and the other half sees you as their beloved child or grandchild.

🌟 Yandere! Townspeople who may or may not be human. Like sure they might have the occasional human sacrifices but what town doesn’t!?!? This is totally normal behavior that people exhibit. What’s that? Did you just see a tentacle coming out from that woman over there? Nahhh. You must be imagining that! What a cute and overactive imagination you have there. In all seriousness, it would literally die for you. You're just a cutie patootie to them. Your small teeth are so cute compared to their razor sharp fangs. You know, you could really use that small mouth of yours and suck on their–

🌟 Yandere! Townspeople have a monthly ritual where they gather around to brag about all of the items that they stole from you. Never in your life will you see someone so happy to own a pair of used underwear that didn’t belong to them or some used pair of socks. If you looked up a textbook definition of “down bad” then a picture of the Yandere! Townspeople would be the first images to pop up. In your presence these people act as if they had never touched grass or seen the sun before. They all seem to have some type of mutual agreement that in your presence, they would try to act somewhat normal in order to not scare/scar you too much.

—

From a young age, your luck was apparent. In school, while others struggled with exams, you breezed through them effortlessly, always managing to stumble upon the exact answers needed to excel. Teachers marveled at your natural knack for stumbling upon solutions, even in the most challenging of situations. As you grew older, the extraordinary luck only seemed to amplify. Job interviews turned into job offers within minutes, as if the universe conspired to ensure your success in every endeavor. Colleagues joked that working with you was like having a lucky charm around, as projects that seemed doomed to fail miraculously turned into resounding triumphs whenever you were involved. It might seem great and all BUT DAMN WAS THIS LIFE SO FUCKING BORING!!!! Which is why you decided to spice up your day a little and rob a bank.

“Oh hello [Reader]! Is this going to be the usual procedure?” The bank teller asks you with a smile on their face as you hold a gun to their face. “You know… the weather is perfectly nice today. It would be a perfect day for a date don’t you think–”

Suddenly a thunderous crash was heard, the police burst through the bank doors, their badges glinting under the harsh fluorescent lights. Guns drawn and voices booming commands, they swept into the lobby, faces masked with determination. Until the police chief sees you and lets out a tired sigh, “Guns down everyone, it’s just [Reader].” A faint sound of disappointed groans can be heard from the crowd of bank patrons from the back. “Why are the police here so soon, I didn’t get enough time to admire their pretty face.” another voice could be heard, “For real, their never this fast in an actual emergency. I mean they only just shot and killed one person, it's really nothing to worry about like who cares–”

—

“You are free to go [Reader], again.” the police officer states as she releases you from your handcuffs. “Turns out the man that you shot ended up being a drug dealer. You really have a special talent for catching criminals don’t you. She states as she gazes at you with loving eyes. “You know I’m free after this shift, you think we can–”

Before she can finish her sentence you walk away with a dejected look on your face. You couldn’t believe how boring a day this turned out to be. Seriously, you wished that something exciting would happen in this town for once you think to yourself. Failing to notice a scene behind you. One that consisted of a bunch of monsters eating the souls of the innocent while on their knees for a statue that seemed to look like you. They all seem to be gripping onto something though– HEY, WAIT A MINUTE ARE THEY HOLDING YOUR UNDERWEAR!?!!?

[mirohlayo]

Hi, can I request a Reader x F1 grid story where reader breaks her arm/leg and she can't race because of it, but she still attends the races to watch with her team? And then the drivers start to draw on her cast as a feel better soon gesture.

Maybe she also posts it on her social media throughout the day to show fans the progress of the drawings.

Thank you so much xxx

P.S. Love you writing

Hi !! So as you requested I used the F1 grid, but only the drivers who I write for originally (+ Albon). I also wrote reader as a F1 Academy driver to make it more easy to write and more realistic. It's the first time I write something like this, so hope you'll enjoy it girll !! ᥫ᭡

DRAWINGS ON MY BROKEN ARM

( because maybe you just need some love from your handsome friends. )

warning : none just a broken arm, a cast and fluff

note : I really struggled a lot to find some good cast pictures, these ones are a bit awful lmaoo sorry

word count : 1.3k

It was not planned. This was absolutely not what was planned.

As you get out of the car with difficulty, greeting pleasantly the driver who kindly accompanied you to the Suzuka circuit, you try as best you can not to move your arm too much. If you make unnecessary efforts you will tire yourself out for nothing.

You absolutely did not choose to break your arm. It was due to a mistake, a very big mistake indeed. While you were testing your car during free practice, during a session where the falling rain flooded the track with water, your tires did not grip effectively and you found yourself thrown against the wall, in a fairly serious crash. surprising.

The teams immediately helped you, and while everyone was asking you if you were okay after this crash, that's when you realized a big problem: yes, you were okay, but not your arm. . And after a short stay in the hospital, you now find yourself - or rather your arm - stuck in an amazing cast.

You obviously cannot participate in the next F1 Academy races. But you can, however, do something else that is much more energetic and beneficial for you in the state you are in: attend the F1 race which is currently taking place in Japan.

After all, being locked up for almost a week in your apartment was totally boring and you really need a little fresh air, and above all the passion for this sport to stimulate. Being a very close friend of certain drivers, you did not hesitate for a single second to accept your team's proposal when they offered to accompany you to the Suzuka GP.

Now there you are in the paddock, trying to slip through the others to get to the Mercedes garage. There where you find Georges, who smiles with all his teeth at the sight of you.

“Hello you” He walks over to you and starts to wrap his arms around you in order to give you a hug, but a reflex immediately makes him step back. “Oh sorry, I forgot you have a... little problem” He struggles to finish his sentence, grimacing at the sight of your wrapped arm in a cast.

You giggle before patting his shoulder. "Are you better since your crash? I saw that a few days ago and I was really scared for you." His eyes scan you, he is worried about you. You smile softly at him to reassure him. "Don't worry. I may have a broken arm but that won't stop me from supporting you in this race."

“Oh, Y/n!” Lewis' voice calls out to you, and you turn to face him, Charles next to him. They both smile at you, taking care not to touch your arm so as not to hurt you further. "I'm so sorry about your crash. You must definitely be disappointed." Lewis affectionately caresses your shoulder, a show of affection and support.

"At least you're alive, that's the main thing. It's good to see you here, the other guys miss you you know." Charles explains the situation, telling you how worried and scared the pilots were following your accident. You also received several messages from them on instagram, in which they supported you and showered you with kind words.

“Y/NNN!!” Daniel screams your name from afar, a big smile on his face as he almost throws himself at you. “Hey watch out for his arm.” Lewis alerts Daniel so he doesn't hurt you, but he doesn't seem to hear anything and comes to take you in his arms. “Daniel, I’ll go back to the hospital if you continue.” He finally pulls away, carefully observing your cast.

“Maybe I should call the others, they’ll be happy to see you.” Charles volunteers to bring the other drivers back, while you chat with your friends. They are all very respectful and very attentive, they are sincerely empathetic towards you.

In the distance, you finally see the rest of the boys arriving.

“Here’s my girl.” Lando comes to wrap his arm around your shoulders, a smirk present on his lips. You push him away, grimacing to tease him, and he holds his heart as if you had just broken it into a thousand pieces. "I know I shouldn't have sent you that 'get well soon' with a red heart on Instagram, hypocrite." He pretends to roll his eyes but his smile betrays him.

"Indeed, you shouldn't have. Your teammate was the first to message me and that's why he's my favorite boy today." Oscar tssk while crossing his arms, however amused by the situation. Max, Carlos and Alex are discreetly added to the group that has just formed around you.

“Even with a broken arm, you can do a lot of things you know.” Max told you in a confident manner. “Like Lance last year.” Carlos chuckled at Lando, both nodding at the same time because they thought the same thing. You can't help but feel alive again.

It's true that the last few days were difficult. Alone, injured and locked in your apartment, you no longer had much of a taste for life. You kept asking yourself questions about your future, about the rest of the races of the year. You were also worried. But you knew that coming here, being surrounded by your closest friends again, laughing and talking with them, was all you needed. You can only be grateful to them.

“I have an idea guys!” Alex then exclaims, drawing attention to himself. “Since Y/n is injured, and her cast is… white and bland, we should draw to give her courage.” He said while pointing at your cast. The other drivers nod, agreeing with the Williams driver's idea.

“I will have the honor of drawing first!” Then begins George, who is already ready to fight to have his drawing on your cast. "She wants a drawing of her favorite driver which is me. Too bad for you, George." Lando, and his sassy attitude, is ahead of the Mercedes driver. “I bet I draw better than all of you so let me do it.” Carlos steps forward to assert himself.

They seem to be on the verge of fighting over who will have the honor of drawing best, or who will draw first. You laugh while calming the situation. "Look, you're all going to be able to draw. We just need some markers." You remark, as you wave to your team in the distance to help you.

It doesn't take long before they arrive with a small pencil case filled with different colored markers. You then sit on a chair in a corner of the garage, the nine drivers around you. Oscar is the first to draw on your cast, while the others are still fighting over who will go second.

In the end, after a good session of laughter and slightly failed drawings, the result is there. Your plaster is decorated with designs, each one as extravagant as the last, but that doesn't matter, because their intention comes from the heart. This sincere gesture will certainly give you courage for the rest of your adventure, you are sure of it.

And as they all give you one last smile, one last hug, they leave to prepare for the approaching race. You end up joining your team further in the VIP stands, ready for the start of the race. “What a beautiful cast” Your engineer nods at the magnificent designs on your arm, and you smile. “Beautiful may not be the word, but it’s very precious to me for sure.”

And as you share a laugh, the red lights go out, as the din of cars echoes throughout the circuit. For a moment, everything seems wonderful. It's crazy how a simple little attention like drawings can brighten up your day a little more. And can also brighten up the day of others, like those of your fans for example...

yourusername just posted !

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and others...

yourusername: maybe no more arm but at least I have my handsome boyys ❤️

view comments

danielricciardo: if anyone wonders who drew the beautiful star, it’s me ✌️😁

⤷ landonorris: you wrote on her arm instead of her cast you dickhead

⤷ danielricciardo: I was feeling different 😜

user: Alex just writing his name makes absolutely sense

user: no cuz they're literally the SWEETEST ahww

⤷ yourusername: only oscar cuz he's the one who drew the best

⤷ danielricciardo: but you said it was me earlier

⤷ yourusername: i lied plus you literally drew on my SKIN instead of my cast 😠

landonorris: my girl not giving any credits to my amazing beautiful drawing 💔

⤷ yourusername: yeah cuz you have no talent, keep it up it's awful mate 🔥🔥

⤷ landonorris: hypocrite I hate you

charles_leclerc: take care of yourself y/n ❤️

georgerussell63: I slayed, my drawing is lit

⤷ yourusername: no 🙄🥱

user: i need friends as precious as them, love their friendship !!

[deactivated072320241242]

—𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭—

pairing . Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader

summary . she needs you, in multiple ways — she's just scared to ask for it.

warnings . smut — I am NOT responsible for the content you consume — thigh riding, scissoring, fingering, vulnerable sex (because yes), taking care of Nat because she deserves it.

notes . English is not my first language, I'm brazilian, so I apologize for any grammar mistakes. this is probably the first fic I ever post so hi hi!!!

(I'm sorry if this is bad, I literally wrote that in a waiting room, completely in a rush.)

divider credits: @cafekitsune ^^

You didn't know exactly why the TV was on. You weren't interested on the show, and Natasha wasn't even looking at it. Her eyes looked down as she fidgeted with her fingers. You could tell she was anxious, that something was bothering her.

You just never expected that this was something to do with you — no, you didn't do anything wrong. It was her.

Natasha and you met years ago, and had been in a situationship for a while now. You weren't friends, but somehow, you couldn't recall the time you started dating (because it never existed). Friends with benefits was too cliché, and maybe not enough to describe what you actually had with her.

To begin with it, you met Natasha when she was still an Avenger. You were never part of the team, but they treated you as if you were. You were close to everyone, but specially Natasha. There was a reason she had let that happen, since according to her, she was in New York to be a hero, and not to have friends.

Friends.

The moment the russian started to blush whenever Thor teased her about how close she was to you or when you simply stared at her for a few seconds or more was when she realized that she made a mistake. A good one, she hoped. In a heartbeat, she was telling you her story.

You listened — just, listened. Your hand went to brush her hair behind her ear whenever she looked down, and the sparkle of pride in your eyes was not something she could miss. You didn't pity her. You didn't try to bring up a justification for what she went through, or to bring up a solution to fix her. You were proud of her for who she became, and were there for her whenever she didn't want to be that person for a while.

It was with that trust in you that she found herself wanting, craving even, something more. She's human, wether she like it or not. She can't deny her feelings or urges, not even the most dangerous spy can.

So her walls broke when you said you were going with her to Norway after the Avengers split.

Natasha shifted a little in the couch, the blankets around her getting all crumpled as she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. Your focus went from the soft patting of the raindrops in the window to the woman next to you, as you frowned a bit.

"Nat?" you called, leaning your side against the backrest of the couch and looking at her. "What's wrong?"

She turned to you, a little startled, but tried to shake it off with a small grin. "Oh, it's nothing. It's just a little hot in here."

"We're in Norway," you laughed, giving her that goddamn smile of yours. "And.. it's raining."

"The..." she shook her head, failing miserably to come up with an excuse. "The blankets are making me hot."

"Mhm, are they?" you raised an eyebrow, and pulled the blankets off you both, and letting half of them fall to the floor. "Better?"

Natasha shivered, but nodded nonetheless. You saw she was unquiet, and that this looked a little more serious than the normal.

"Natasha."

"Yeah?"

"What is going on?" you repeated your question, scooting closer to her and placing your hand above hers — just to make things worse.

Natasha almost whined at your action, which made you pull your hand back and frown even more. "I'm sorry,"

"No, it's not your fault." she shook her head. "It's mine."

"Then tell me." you smiled softly, lifting her head up to meet your eyes with your pointer finger. The sight of her green orbs was something you maybe never saw before.

"I..." she mumbled, clearing her throat. She then grabbed your hand and held your wrist gently, not sure of what to do next. "I don't know."

"It's okay," you whispered, bringing her hand up and placing a kiss on it. You had no problem with being affectionate and she didn't mind either, but today, it was different.

"Y/n". Natasha whispered back, looking into your eyes and getting lost in them. She was clearly unsure of what to do, and how to express what she was feeling. So she brought your hand up and placed your palm above her heart. Faster than the speed of light.

"Hey..." you cooed, tilting your head as you felt the aggressive beating against your hand. "You... are you, scared of something?"

"No." she quickly shook her head. She wasn't having any negative emotions right now. "I'm not anxious, I'm not scared.. I'm just.."

"Just what?"

The fact she was not having an anxious episode or a panic attack made you slightly relaxed, but not completely — then you realized, the touches you were giving her made her sensitive. She was needy.

The Red Room turned her into a closed person, and that didn't completely vanish when she was with you — it was like there was a bug in her system that had to be fixed, soon. She couldn't be totally open, but not completely closed.

You smiled at the thought, and leaned in closer, inches away from her face, which made her breathing uneven. "Tell me what you need, Nat."

"I..." she took a deep inhale and placed her hand on your cheek, pulling you into an unexpected kiss — a desperate one.

She kissed you frantically, her movements with urgency as she placed her hands behind your neck, trying to pull you close. You couldn't say you expected this, but it wasn't unwelcomed either.

Your hands went to her waist as she shyly crawled onto your lap, her legs hooking around your hips as she pulled away for air, her forehead against yours.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." she breathed, feeling her eyes start to burn with unleashed tears.

"You have absolutely nothing to apologize for." you murmured, arms gently wrapping around her as she straddled you. "It's okay, let's not rush things. Let's take deep breaths, mhm?"

The fact you wanted her to calm down before anything almost calmed her down instantly, but she breathed with you, then leaned her head on yours, her cheek on your hair.

"I just need something," she whispered, more calmly now. "I—I think I need you."

"And I'm here," you turned your head to press a kiss on her temple, caressing her back. The redhead melted.

Natasha leaned down to kiss your lips again, but not with urgency. She sighed softly against your lips, her hands moving to hold your face, and yours, to hold her waist. It didn't take long for her to start moving slowly — she shifted, instead of straddling your lap, her legs were around your thigh. Your eyes opened, and you broke the kiss to look at her.

"Nat, my love," you whispered. "Are you sure of this?"

"Please." she uttered back, closing her eyes and gripping your shoulders. "I know you'd ever hurt me.. you would never disrespect me, you would stop if I asked you to. Right... right?"

You smiled sadly, realizing she was trying to reassure herself, and not actually ask you this. "Yes, yes, Natasha. I want to take care of you. I want to see you, beyond that shell they turned you in. I want you to feel comfortable enough with me to ask for this, and this is such a big step for you."

She sighed in relief, hearing the honesty in your voice. She nodded, clearing her throat. She leaned down, hiding her face on the crook of her neck and pressing small, gentle kisses on it. Then her hips started to slowly move, and the tiniest bit of friction made her gasp. "Y/n..."

"Shh," you held her hips, guiding her through her own pace. The little high waisted shorts she wore rolled up, so surprisingly thick that you could feel her wetness. "That's great, Natty. Move yourself for me, like this."

Natasha whined at your words, starting to grind against you slightly faster. The clothes were starting to feel uncomfortable, as she felt the need of you seeing her. She grabbed your hands, and slowly moved them underneath her blouse.

You did what she wanted, grazing your fingernails against her skin and slowly massaging her flesh, resulting in a soft moan of hers. "Take it off." You looked at her with a questioning look, even if you had an idea of what she was asking for. "Undress me, Y/n."

Given her permission, you smoothly lifted her blouse and pulled it over her head, letting it fall to the floor. She stopped her movements briefly, just so you could slide her shorts and panties down her thighs, her heat now in contact with your leg making you groan.

She felt your hands moving up to unclasp her bra and smirked softly, holding her arms out so you could take down the straps. That woman was surely breathtaking, her body, her marks, her scars, her voice, her everything.

"Natty," you uttered, pressing kisses in the valley between her breasts and moving up, to her ear. "There's so much I wanna do with you..."

Natasha closed her eyes, your touch making her shiver again, as she began to fastly grind her pussy against your thigh. "Please." she quickly removed your shirt and soon enough, you both were completely naked.

The feeling of skin against hers, the human touch that she never felt when getting off with a strap while thinking of you was unbelievable, a touch that she knew that wouldn't hurt her. It was so good, so different from the men she seduced when a spy, so different from the men that touched her in the Red Room.

"My pretty girl," you hissed, throwing your leg above hers and starting to grind yourself with her. "So beautiful, and all mine."

"Yes," she panted, burying her face in your neck again as her nails lightly scratched your back. "Y/n, please."

"You're coming with me." you sweetly commanded. Natasha started to whisper things in Russian that you couldn't really understand, but you took it as a sign that she was close.

Soon enough, Natasha's legs started to shake and her moans on your ear got slightly louder, you both coming together, her juices mixing with yours. She didn't stop, though. You gasped, looking up at her. She still needed more.

"Touch me." Natasha growled, grabbing your hand and moving it close to her cunt. She was starting to feel confident, and you liked it.

You didn't think twice before burying your middle and pointer fingers on her hole, using your thumb to slowly rub circles on her clit, biting your lip at the sight of her back arched. All for you.

"God, Y/n," she moaned, using her own hands to squeeze her breasts and circle her hard nipples. "Yes, just like that."

"You like it like this?" you asked, shoving one more finger inside her, her moans getting louder. She slowly started to lift herself from your fingers, just to lower her hips again, riding your fingers. "You're gonna come for me again?"

"Yes!" she nodded frantically, her breaths coming in little gasps for air. She gripped your shoulders tightly, throwing her head back and orgasming again. It took a while for her to calm down, and you didn't waste time before gently taking her and laying her down on the couch, spreading her legs and pressing soft kisses on her inner thighs, licking her juices and making her squirm around.

"Y/n," she murmured quietly, reaching her arms out.

"Oh, baby." you pulled Nat into an embrace, holding her close to your chest and caressing her hair, running your fingers through her red locks. "It's alright."

Natasha whimpered, wanting to hide herself in your arms and never come out again. She closed her eyes and laid her head on your chest, arms circling your waist.

The talk about this could wait. The silence was comfortable enough for now.

[twistyfish]

Can we get some comfort from the boys please? God especially after that last post with us being so insecure that hits me like a rock. MC’s selfish for having all of them I wanna be loved too 😭😭😭

(I love MC but jealousy is uncanny)

It doesn’t help that I read an angst no comfort a while ago and I still am not over it- help 😭

sure! i just wrote a double dose of angst so i hope this eases the pain. i don’t know why the hell sylus’s is so long, so don’t ask me.

prompt~ comfort.

content warning for brief mentions of death, periods, and detailed descriptions of blood.

𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴

Zayne

“Please don’t leave me,” you whispered into the cool fabric of his jacket, gripping the velvety material in your fists. You were sitting on his lap facing him, your legs swung around his hips and hugging his sides.

“I would perish at your side before leaving you,” Zayne whispered back. “No entity in or outside this world could rip me apart from you.”

“I don’t want to die alone.”

“You’re not going to- why would you say that?”

“Zayne, I’m scared of dying alone, please don’t ever leave me alone.” Your voice was panicky and you weren’t making much sense.

“You’re not going to die alone, honey. I won’t leave you alone,” he reassured you softly. “Where did this fear come from?”

“I just… I’ve been alone for a long time. I don’t want to feel that way again. I don’t want nobody to remember me.”

“Sweetheart. You aren’t alone. You have family and friends who love you so much. And I love you so, so much more than I can describe. I even think about you when you get up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. How could I not remember you?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered.

Zayne wrapped his arms around you, holding your head with one hand and rubbing your hair soothingly.

“You’re the love of my life. You keep me warm on chilly days. You nourish me. Please never think otherwise.”

𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖

Sylus

You were hunched over on the couch, curled up and gripping your knees. You were intensely nauseous, and it felt like a cat was clawing up all your insides. Your periods were notoriously brutal.

You were being extra cautious not to leak on Sylus’s leather couch, placing two towels beneath you and doubling them up. You flipped through channels on the TV miserably, pulling your fluffy blanket higher up around you.

It was all politics and sports. You shut off the TV and closed your eyes, trying to just marinate in the warmth of the blanket.

You were somewhat peaceful, until you realized the seat of your pants felt warmer than usual. Wide eyed, you scrambled up and checked the towels. The top one looked like the Japanese flag. You lifted it, and the bottom one mirrored it. Praying, you lifted the bottom towel.

The leather couch had a thick blotch of red on it, and you groaned aloud. You stood up and tossed the blanket to the side, ignoring the shooting pains in your back and stomach. Upon standing, you felt yourself leak down your leg. There was now a small red puddle on the floor that you were dripping into.

You seethed. Deciding against retrieving paper towels and potentially leaving a trail behind you, you took off your stained pajama pants and wiped the floor with them.

It wasn’t very effective, as you were bent over cleaning the blood and simultaneously dripping onto the floor at the same time. You were too embarrassed to call any of Sylus’s staff, so you ended up giving up and putting your pajama pants in a heap on the floor and sitting on top of them so you wouldn’t do any more damage.

You sat like that for a solid twenty minutes before Sylus came home. You heard his steps as he entered the room and turned your head, both dreading and being relieved at his arrival. His expression changed from suave to confused as he saw you on the floor sitting on your pants.

And then he saw the bloody towels and stain on the couch. “Oh, shit.”

“I’m so sorry,” you started.

“That’s a lot of blood. Are you okay?” His voice was soft and concerned.”

“Yeah, it’s just my period. Aren’t you mad about the couch?”

“Me? Mad about a couch? I can replace this a thousand times over. I’m more concerned-,” he bent down next to you, “-about the amount of blood coming out of you.”

You looked at him, both weary and confused. “I told you, it’s just my period. It’s pretty standard to bleed a lot.”

He shook his head. “Not that much. Get up.” You complied and stood up, revealing your pajamas which were soaked through by now. His scarlet eyes widened. “What the hell? That’s not normal.”

“It is normal. It happens every month.”

He shook his head, picking up your soiled pajamas and towels in one hand and wrapping his other hand around your bloody thighs. He hoisted you up like you were weightless, ignoring your protests.

“Sylus! I’m covered in blood, stop touching me!”

“You act as though I haven’t seen bodies doused in blood.”

“That’s different. This is blood from my literal va-“

“I’m plenty familiar with that orifice of yours, my love.”

“Oh my god.”

𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝

Rafayel

Your cheeks were flushed, and you were hacking up what felt like several lungs. After much harassing from Xavier, you had taken a sick day and were now taking the hottest shower of your life in an attempt to steam out all the muck in your throat.

You blew your nose one last time before exiting the shower, getting dressed with a heavy head. The air in the bathroom was hot and damp from your shower, and you felt like you were swimming as you walked to your bedroom. You ended up clumsily turning the fan on and collapsing on your bed.

And then the doorbell rang. Of course it did, because you and Rafayel had made plans for a movie night that you’d forgotten to cancel. You groaned into the mattress and forced yourself to get up. You answered the door with what must have still been a very pink face, because Rafayel immediately said, “You’re all red. Are you that nervous to see me?”

“I’m sick.”

He immediately pulled away and lifted his shirt over his mouth. “You’re sick? Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

“I was busy being sick, genius.” You were too tired to banter. You sneezed, to which Rafayel made a face. “You need some TLC, Ms. Bodyguard. I’ll be happy to assist. From a distance, of course.”

You didn’t feel like arguing, so you allowed him to lead you inside and prepare you some stew and hot chocolate. It was surprisingly comforting, and Rafayel didn’t pretend to be disgusted when you coughed up mucus. He rubbed your back while you coughed and attacked you with kisses when you sat quietly with a throbbing head.

Even when you pushed him away, reminding him that he would likely get sick from all his close contact, he waved away your worries.

“I need you to recover as quickly as possible so you can protect me. When I’m sick, you can just pay me back.”

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Xavier

You fell out of a tree. That was the short version of it. You and Xavier were having a climbing contest, and the branch you’d been holding onto wasn’t very stable. Well, the branch itself was stable, but the bark you were gripping wasn’t. It ripped off in your hands and took you with it.

You let out a squeaky noise when you hit the ground, almost like a dog toy. You would have laughed at yourself if you weren’t in so much pain.

“__! Shit, shit, shit!” Xavier was down the tree in an instant, like a rodent that spotted a snake. He sprinted to your side and hovered over you frantically while you laid on your back and tried to regain your breath. He ended up refraining from calling an ambulance because you had enough life in you to beg him not to. So, he drove you to urgent care instead.

Thankfully you weren’t hurt too badly, but you did end up with a bruised tailbone and a fractured rib, so now you were in the middle of the healing process with Xavier asking you questions every twenty minutes or so.

He’d ask, “Are you in pain?” to which you’d respond, “Yes.” And then he’d ask “Where?” And you’d angrily say “My butt.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know. It’s okay, it was my fault.”

“But climbing the trees was my idea.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Do you need a butt massage?”

“No, idiot.”

Xavier was very apologetic for the next couple of weeks, sleeping over at your house every other day and bringing you burnt baked goods to tide you over. He took care of you in his own sweet way.

[sylustful]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ A Slice of Heaven for the Sinner

"there is no love purer than mine."

he is heartless, unforgiving, and cold. he takes and takes and takes because it's his given right. you are no exception. when the two of you meet in a nightclub, he watches you with intense interest, his eyes devouring your soul without even touching your skin... but when he does, there's no going back for you.

ೃ⁀➷ TAGS: vampire! Sylus, pure but bold reader, corruption, dubcon (reader secretly gets off on being scared and forced), size difference, heated make out session in the car, manhandling, pet names (ie. sweetie, babydoll, pretty girl, dollface)

ೃ⁀➷ MIKI'S NOTES: Sylus is an asshole but he's really nice, i promise. this is my first post on tumblr so please be nice. smut will happen in the next part, i just wrote too much for the build up to it that i decided to make it a two parter ksjfdjf anyway, have fun reading!

here is part two.

ೃ⁀➷ WORD COUNT: 3053

Sylus is hungry. starving, actually. like a bottomless pit opened up in his stomach and nothing can satiate his hunger. hunger for what, exactly? he doesn’t dare share; but he can feel his fangs tingling, his body vibrating, and his mouth watering at the sight of a beautiful young lady on the other side of this club. the strobe lights do nothing but irritate him and make his concealment in the shadows more difficult than he wished, but nightclubs like these were always a reliable source of fresh, young blood. though, in the recent past, all blood to him has tasted icky like tar and stuck to his teeth.

but when he saw her, it felt like fate was calling to him. seeing her face was like meeting an angel, watching her dance like a siren, and god… the way she talked. her voice a sweet honey dripping into his ears and sticking in his brain. Sylus watched her hands moved up her body and sway her hips as if he were watching one of many symphonies he attended, his gaze focused and eyes drilled to her fingers playing his favorite instrument. he wanted to make her sing. he wanted to know what beautiful music her moans would create, pressing his fingers into her skin like notes on a piano, pressing his foot down to make her voice resonate throughout his dark bedroom.

but he had to be patient. good things come to those who wait; and while in most cases, Sylus was the type of man to just take and take, he wanted to savor this woman. his eyes followed the veins tracing under her skin, his ears perked up to listen to the blood flowing through her body and her firm heartbeat. his fingers clenched tightly to his pants, his own blood racing and boiling with adrenaline that he could feel himself getting lightheaded.

but he had to wait.

it amused him knowing that you were none the wiser to the sinful thoughts he had about you. how would meek, little kitten like you run away from him? would you let him chase you? push you down into the dirt and let him ravish your small and trembling body? his fingers twitched again, his cock growing in his pants and pushing against the seams. Sylus moved his hands up his thighs, pushing against his hardness for some kind of friction, and he bites his lip to suppress a groan. a part of him wanted to just grab you right now, force you to sit and watch him jack off to you. your wide and curious eyes watching how his hand jerks and squeezes his dick like it was the most interesting thing in the world to you. or maybe you would be scared, begging him to leave you alone and call him disgusting.

“hi.”

his eyes widen, looking up to you. holy shit, you’re hotter up close.

wait a second. what the fuck? he doesn’t say anything at first, dumbfounded that the gods actually answered his prayers.

you furrow your eyebrows. “hello…?”

he clears his throat, shifting in his seat and picking up the whiskey he ordered two hours ago - it’s watered down. “evening,” he replies, smiling at you.

“you’ve been staring for a while,” you tell him, sitting down next to him and brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

he lets out a curt chuckle. “i hope i haven’t frightened you with my gaze.”

Sylus feels as though he could fucking bust in his pants just from her closeness. he could smell her perfume, like a bouquet of roses just waiting to be picked and set in a vase. would she like roses? could she prick him with her thorns? he couldn’t help but flash a devious grin at you.

you laugh, crossing your legs - fuck, you have good legs - and rest your chin in your hand. “i felt as though if i didn’t come over here, you would’ve burnt me to a crisp with how hot your eyes were boring into me.”

oh, he wanted to burn you. mark your skin with his name with a hot iron so everyone could know you belonged to him.

“well, now you’re here. so, am i as intimidating as you think?” he asks, crossing his own legs to hide his aching erection growing harder and more painful.

Sylus watches your eyes drag up his body; the way his shirt clung to his body like a second skin, his suit jacket lazily hanging over his shoulders, shoes polished enough to shine under the strobe lights. he prided himself in how he dressed, making sure that his presence and influence could be felt no matter where he was in the room. he watches you bite your lip, clenching his fist to restrain himself from reaching out and tugging the lip from your teeth to bite himself.

“you are indeed a scary man,” you admit breathlessly, your eyes eventually meeting his but you still keep your gentle smile. “but i feel like you like knowing you’re scary.”

God, if you’re listening, let Sylus fuck you without restraints. let Sylus drag you out of this stupid fucking club with these stupid fucking people and take you back to his place so he can give you the most mind-blowing sex of your life. he wants you. he fucking needs you.

he then leans in to you, tilting his head to the side and grinning at you flinch and back away from him. your hands stay together as they rest in your lap, your fingers unconsciously pulling your skirt down. a part of him wanted to rip the flimsy fabric to pieces and bend you over the table and fuck you in front of everyone at the club, but he knew better. settling for a brush of his fingers against your cheek, careful not to cut you with his sharp nails. one day, he’ll actually cut you and lick the blood from your cheek. your skin felt soft and smooth under his fingers, moving them down to your neck and staying there. he could feel your blood pumping underneath him, speeding up at his touch, not sure if it was from fear or excitement, maybe both.

“i’ve never been to a nightclub before,” you whisper to Sylus, watching his eyes stare at your neck. “i wanted to stay home and study for exams but my friends dragged me out here.”

he laughs at this, pulling his hand away and back to holding the cup, rubbing his thumb up and down the glass. “studious little girl, i see. i applaud you for your dedication to the academics.”

your stomach flutters at his praise and you fidget with your skirt a bit more, looking down. “it’s not like i don’t like to party or think it’s lame, i just don’t really care about going out when i’m perfectly fine at my dorm.”

Sylus rests his chin on his fist, watching you needlessly explain yourself. he doesn’t care why you came here, he’s just glad that you are. but it comforts him slightly knowing that you aren’t a social butterfly like he is. “i completely understand, babydoll, don’t worry,” he reassured her with a nod. “i feel the same way as you.”

careful. don’t scare the prey. give them the space they need to make their own decision. lull them into that false sense of security and safety before pouncing. he makes sure to watch her body language, the way she relaxes at his reassurance and eyes light up with satisfaction. her nodding in agreement and then…

“i’m glad you do, really, not a lot of people understand the struggles of being a homebody,” you says with a sigh of relief, laughing a little.

bingo. caught ya.

Sylus then reaches out his hand to her, giving the purest smile he could muster and says, “so, why not ditch this place and go somewhere more… quiet? i got this really cool place i go to when i want to cool my head and relax on my own.”

└───❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚┘

this is crazy. you’re crazy. you’re fucking insane. are you serious? driving to a random place with a random stranger? what if he’s a serial killer who murders young women? surely it isn’t just his devilishly good looks that is illegal about him. you don’t even know his name!

you quietly groan into your hands and internally bash your head against the wall as you try to reason with the logical part of yourself that everything is fine. maybe he’s actually a nice guy who just wants to show you the cool place he mentioned? he did say that he didn’t like crowded places like you. true kindred spirits! this man is fine - both literally and figuratively. he looks like the type of guy who could keep you safe if someone else tried to murder you.

you can hear the man chuckle and you turn to him, raising an eyebrow. “what’s so funny?”

“nothing, sweetie, don’t worry,” he replies in that sensual, deep voice that has heat pooling between your legs.

everything about this man just screams evil energy yet you can’t take your eyes off of him. the way his forearms flex as he grips the steering wheel, the veins in his hands twitching with blood flowing through it. it was like he melted into the car with how dark everything was, his figure merging with the shadows as if he was a monster lurking for prey. you swallow at the thought that you might be his prey tonight. it’s terrifying. he’s terrifying. his aura grips your throat and fills your body will oil, mixing with your blood and tainting it. his blood red eyes catching yours every so often, forcing you to tear your gaze away from him out of embarrassment, only to look back at him out of stupid curiosity. you curse yourself for not even thinking about jumping out of the car. you’d be injured but you’d at least not have to worry about him killing you in a forest or something. but a small part of you, a part you don’t like to recognize, is thrilled at the danger of this man.

his tongue swipes at his teeth, flashing razor sharp fangs like a trophy at you. whether it was on purpose to scare you or a habit he developed, it stirred an uncomfortable warmth at the pit of your stomach. you can’t pull away from his pearly whites, his tight skin and strong jawline. you can’t stop staring at his lips and imagining it bruising yours with relentless attacks against your mouth. what is wrong with you? you never thought of anyone like this before. you finally gather the strength to look away again, your thighs clenching together and hands fiddling with your skirt. you now kind of regret not putting on lingerie. well, you didn’t think you had to considering you were just going to dance with your friends and not go home with anyone. yet here you are…

“so… you’re not some serial killer out to get me, right?” you ask in a half-joking manner, the tip of your mouth twitching. you internally smack yourself, realizing your stupid question.

the man bites back a smile as he replies, “would it comfort you if i said no?”

no, no it wouldn’t.

you adjust in your seat, feeling your thighs sticking to the leather and curse under your breath. the man reaches back, using his strong thigh to keep the steering wheel steady as he grabs a blanket from the backseat to give to you, gesturing with his eyes to your seat. you stare at him flabbergasted before hesitantly taking the blanket and shifting around, eventually finding a comfy spot and sighing with relief at the soft fabric under your skin. you mutter a ‘thanks’ before looking back down, your cheeks flushing pink.

“it’s a spot you can park your car at to view the city from a high vantage point,” he says suddenly, turning to you. “there’s a streetlight with a camera that cops use to make sure people don’t do weird shit.”

you meet his gaze, processing his words slowly before nodding. “oh, i see.”

fuck, are you genuinely stupid? how are you this bad at conversations?

you try to say more but the man just laughs, reaching over to give your thigh a gentle squeeze, leaving you breathless and your skin burning. “i know that you’re skittish, i’m surprised you actually accepted my offer to come with me,” he says again in that gentle tone, rubbing his thumb on the outer part of your thigh. “i wish i could do something to make you feel more safe around me.”

you stare at his hand taking up 70% of your leg, your mind spinning at his fingers pressing into the fat of your inner thighs. you want him to move up. to touch you more. to just fucking fuck you with his fingers and make you scream because you know damn well he knows his way around women. you want it. you want him. at this point, death be damned because you’re going to have sex with this man tonight and if he kills you, oh well.

the two of you eventually make your way to the spot he was talking about and he backs into the parking space, popping open the trunk and unlocking the doors. the man steps out first and before you can even process anything, he’s already opening the passenger door for you and extending his hand. you take it, your stomach fluttering again at his skin brushing against yours, the size of his hand completely enveloping your own. you step out of the car and follow him to the back, a cold feeling returning to you as he lets go and sets up the blankets and pillows in his trunk, pushing the seats back for more space for the two of you to sit. he then sits down at the center, smiling at you and gesturing for you to sit with him. you blush, taking his hand once more and taking a spot between his thighs, his arms staying at his sides so as not to touch you. he’s a gentleman, of course.

the view is wonderful. absolutely breathtaking. the lights of the city flashing like fireworks and showcasing the beautiful Linkon you know and love. the skyscrapers, apartment buildings, and homes, grocery stores and malls, it’s all in your field of vision and you reach out, almost cupping it into your hand. you watch his hand slide down your arm, meeting your hand and cupping it as well.

“Sylus,” he says, his breath fanning against your shoulder and you shiver.

his name, you think.

“Sylus,” you repeat slowly, that warm feeling coming back into your stomach and you lean back against him. “sounds dangerous.”

he chuckles, using his other hand to cautiously snake around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him, resting his chin on your shoulder and nuzzling his nose into your neck. “you sound divine when you say it; like it was made for you.”

you turn to him, and he looks to you, a tension filling the air as you stare at each other. you want to kiss him. you really, really want to kiss him.

Sylus tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and leans into you, his lips brushing against yours and you reciprocate, letting out a shaky breath before he presses them harder, moving his hand to the back of your neck to keep your secure. your eyes flutter close, opening your mouth for him to enter with his tongue and he kisses you like no one has every kissed before. it’s a breakthrough, a significant point in human history. he kisses you with a fever, a heat that bubbles under your skin and lights you up like a firework. Sylus bites your bottom lip and pushes you down onto the floor of the car and hikes up your thigh, bruising your skin in his grip and keeping it hooked around his waist. Sylus is urgent in the way he kisses you, as if you’ll disappear into foam if he doesn’t kiss as much and as deeply as possible. he gnaws and growls and takes you, forcing you to reciprocate his violent assaults on your mouth and skin as he kisses down your jaw and neck, nipping at your skin in which you groan and tug at his hair.

“how are you this fucking sexy?” he huffs against your neck, his hand moving up your leg to grip your panties, pulling it tightly against your core and you whimper. “you’re just begging me to fuck up this body, aren’t you, dollface?”

you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, looking down at his tussled hair and glowing red eyes, his sharp fangs shining in the moonlight. you want him to hurt you. to bruise and cut your body, to manhandle you like the doll he says you are. but before you can answer him, he devours you again, forcing his tongue into your mouth and almost choking you with it, drool falling down your cheek as your eyes close again, unable to do anything other than take what he’s giving you. you tug at his shirt, arching your body into his touch and whining into his kisses, signaling for Sylus to give you more of whatever he’s offering. you feel him tightening his hands on your body, squeezing your hips and pressing your already dripping cunt against his cock, gasping at how hard he was.

“tell me what you want, pretty girl,” he whispers to you, kissing back up your cheek and hooking his thumbs under the waistband of your panties, tugging again. “fucking tell me what you want me to do to you.”

your breaths are shallow and quick, mind fuzzing at the pleasure melting your brain and causing you to struggle to form even a single, coherent sentence. “i don’t… i want… hah- i need you.”

Sylus chuckles, two of his fingers pressing against the wetness soaking the thin fabric separating you and him, your hips bucking into his hand. “oh yeah? you want my fingers fucking this pretty cunt?”

[ateliersss]

Oh, take me back to The Night we met

Pairing: Yautja x Fem!Reader Summary: 1936, eighty-eight years ago, you met him, the creature that changed your life in a way that goes beyond human imagination. Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: Attempted Rape, SA, Murder, English isn't my first language Word Count: 10.162 After the Blooming Family series

⇨ Surprise! I hope you are surprised because I was starting to doubt myself. I actually believed I wouldn't even finish it this year. Anyways, I wrote the finishing 6.800 words in the last seven hours and my brain is mush. I hope it didn't affect the pace or logic of the plot. If so, I will edit it in a few days. Comments are always appreciated.

⇨ Also, if you tell me I wrote an unrealistic reaction to seeing a Yautja's face for the first time, let me tell you, you and I wouldn't be here if I hadn't reacted the same.

1936, Earth

“Thank you, ma’am.” The soldier in front of you returned your identity card, the national animal printed on it facing you.

You returned his bright smile with a tight one. You were already used to identifying yourself to patrolling soldiers after work. It was for “safety measures”, according to the government.

While you were busy putting away your identity card, the boy looked nervously over his shoulder to his comrade who nodded back to him, encouraging him to finally man up and just tell you what he had rehearsed a dozen times already to eventually make a move on you and ask you out.

“A-And thank you for your service, ma’am!” He blurted out, louder than he intended to, with a soft blush covering his cheeks.

You closed your purse and looked up at him in confusion.

The boy, you now noticed, had to be at least five years younger, probably around the same age as your younger brother, Emil. And you recognized him now, too. He was patrolling around this area two to three times a week.

At your confused face, he gestured a little awkwardly to your uniform, the white dress and blue-grey blouse underneath it. “D-Doctors and nurses are in desperate need in times like these a-and saving lives is a remarkable job!”

“Oh.” You looked down at yourself before you pulled your coat tighter around your body and smiled softly at him. “If that‘s all I‘ll take my leave now. Have a good night, gentlemen.”

He visibly deflated at your words and mumbled a quick “Have a nice evening, ma‘am.” but you barely got half of it when you turned around to continue your way back home. The second your back was facing them your smile dropped.

You hated it, hated this, this so-called life you and everyone around you had to live. Horrible and disgusting things were happening, but no one dared to speak up. You were all trapped, too scared to act, too afraid to do something.

And the people could feel it, the tension that was stretched so tautly that was just waiting to snap. The whole world was holding its breath, deferring that one moment when the match would ignite and reduce everything and everyone to rubble and ash.

Meanwhile, your brother was beaming with pride as he was now considered old enough to join the army and could finally fight for his country. On the other hand, your father, the only other family you still had in this world, was far more reluctant when it came to the plans of the government and his son’s naive blindness of patriotism.

No one was talking about the horrifying wrongs your home country was doing for years now, but everybody knew, everybody saw. And if someone even dared to utter a word about it, they disappeared.

That didn’t stop your father from ranting about it behind the closed doors of your home. He did so, of course, in Emil’s absence. He was family, yes, but nowadays blind obedience could manipulate even a brother and son to go against his own kin.

You loved your brother dearly. He was a good guy and he only held a very strong pride for his home, his people, and his culture. But sadly that was the only thing he acknowledged around others. He denied the “rumors” of a genocide going on and overlooked unintentionally the more sinister motives of others in the world of politics and the military. He was truly and utterly blind, but you couldn’t condemn him for that. Not really.

The Great War ended when Emil was three years old and you remembered him crying when your father told him he couldn’t participate in it anymore. Ignorant of the horrors that happened at the Front, he and a few boys from around the neighborhood would play war and were disappointed when they were told it was over. The worst part was the elder men sitting on benches near their battlefield, telling them their people were the superior power since they had been able to hold their own against three opposing countries in the end.

You sighed and started to fumble around in your purse for your keys as you reached your destination. After a quick look into the mailbox — the usual evening newspaper and another flyer that encouraged men between the ages of twenty and forty-five to sign up for the military — you made your way up to the first floor and poked around in the lock with the key, a little distracted by the newspaper as you were searching the headlines for anything concerning. There was another report about a skinned man found hanging upside down from a church tower. Unbelievable. At times like this and there was a maniac running around, killing people in the most grotesque way for fun.

“I’m home!” You called into the dimly lit hallway, knowing your father was sitting in his usual spot in the living room.

After dropping your purse next to the wardrobe, toeing out of the white pumps, shrugging off the coat, and hanging it on the coat rack, you walked through the corridor and past five doors. The ones leading to the bathroom and the kitchen were open as always, just like the door of Emil’s bedroom. Although it hadn’t been inhabited for a few months now, you would always leave it open after cleaning. It was false reassurance, but that way it seemed as if he was still home.

“How was your day?” Your father asked gruffly from his spot on the wing chair, the morning newspaper still in his hand before it got replaced by the evening issue you handed to him with a kiss to his temple.

 “It was…”

Screams.

Blood.

Wails of a newborn.

A cold body.

“…long.”

“Mhm.” Your father hummed, his eyes scanning the front page before turning it. “Hah! Sightings of another black cloud of smoke and the authorities tell the public another farmhouse burned down. Do they think we are stupid? Unbelievable these people! Think they will get away with it, hiding it from the public eye, and no one would notice!”

You weren’t entirely sure if he had even listened to you, but you didn’t care. You weren’t very eager to start a conversation with him anyway.

“I’m in my room. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

Though you didn’t expect a response, you waited a few seconds — maybe today he would ask if his son had finally sent a letter — before you turned around to retreat to your room.

Since your father had lost his legs in a bomb attack at a munitions factory where he had worked during the Great War, he had changed. A lot. Before he was quite a gentle and jovial man who worked hard and never shied away to show how much he loved his family. Nowadays he was resentful and bitter towards everything happening around him.

It was exhausting, not only listening to his complaints day in and day out but also being nothing more than a maid and caregiver to him. You were the sole breadwinner in this house. You worked yourself to the bone in a business that was equally about life and death but gave you more grief than joy. At least it made the medical care of your father a little easier. The surgery, the medicine, and the wheelchair would have cost you a fortune.

When you would get off work, more would await you at home. Taking care of the household was your responsibility for nine years now since your father wasn’t capable of doing it anymore. After the first week of dusting and sweeping, washing the dirty laundry and ironing the clean ones, going grocery shopping and cooking as well as taking care of your father like washing him, helping him get to the toilet and such, you cried yourself to sleep with the thought of quitting and running away.

But you didn’t.

You were miserable, yes, but you stayed. You stayed with the hope of a better life in the future. Maybe you will be married to a nice man in a few years like your girlfriends already were. You had experience with men, sure, but none of them you would consider fit to be your husband.

In your bedroom, you quickly got rid of your uniform until you were only in your undergarments, a baby-blue silk panty that flowed around your mid-thighs and an uplift brassiere of the same fabric and color, both with a lacy hemstitched design. You were about to throw the white and grey-blue dress to your other dirty clothes when you noticed red speckles on the left sleeve.

Yes, the day had been long, too long for your taste, and when your shift did end, you felt hollow once more. You could still see her in that bed, screaming and crying.

Watching her, you had wondered if you would ever end up like her.

You shifted in your place, second-guessing, before you finally turned and looked at your reflection in the mirror that occupied one corner of your bedroom. You hesitantly lifted your hands and placed them on your belly.

No. Your job showed you women struggle and in pain every day. You would never do that to yourself. Being a mother was not worth the probability of taking your last breath during labor, giving your own life while granting another to your child.

Today was another reminder of that.

The girl in the delivery room, Johanna, was sweet and lively. You met her occasionally on a monthly check-up when you assisted the doctor who took her into his care. She would tell you about her and her husband trying for this baby for years and how excited she was.

You bit the inside of your cheek when tears once again started to well up in your eyes when you thought of how helpless you had felt when you stood in that room. Your colleague, an older and more experienced woman, was holding the crying newborn in her arms. The doctor was doing his all to save the unsavable while Johanna’s body got colder as the dark red spot grew bigger on the white linen of the bed.

Today had shown you once again that you would never let something like that happen to you.

“You have to incise into her abdomen.”

Not ever.

“No!”

Not in a million years.

“No, Mi’ytiar… you have to, you have to.”

You would never put someone else’s life before yours, not even the one of your never-going-to-happen baby.

“Save our baby. Forget me… ju-just save our son… please.”

Sighing, you got ready for bed. You were far too tired this evening to get anything done. The laundry had to wait until tomorrow and your father probably already had eaten, so there was no need to get to the store. For now, you needed to stop thinking.

A whole week passed and you had followed your everyday routine like every other day. Occasionally, when you walked past the room where Johanna had delivered her baby and made her husband a widower, you paused and stared. Instead of the freshly made bed and the stark white linen, you saw her, dying as she bled out. You saw the doctor, yourself by his side and the nurse holding the baby at the foot of the bed.

You jumped when you felt a hand on your shoulder and you turned to see said nurse smiling pitiful at you.

“You are still there, right?” She asked softly, her eyes scanning your face.

You swallowed and nodded. “It’s like that every time I come here. I don’t know why. She’s not the first I watched dying during childbirth.”

The elderly woman patted your cheek and guided you away from the delivery room by the crook of your arm, pulling you away from the sorrowful abyss before you could drown any deeper in it.

“You liked her, that’s why.” She started, “I had a Johanna, too. A long, long time ago. Although she was a lot younger, she was just as excited to be a mother. Poor thing died just like her baby.”

You gasped and now it was you who looked with pity at her. “Why?”

“The baby was stuck.” The older nurse sighed, “She pushed and pushed and tore. By the time the doctor started to cut her open, she died of internal bleeding.” She had to clear her throat before she continued, “The baby died with her. A little boy. He got himself tangled up in the umbilical cord.”

You turned your gaze from her face down to the ground and watched your feet walk an unknown route. Swallowing down your tears, you forced yourself to concentrate on not stumbling over your own feet.

You did like Johanna. You had empathized with her, even though children would never be part of your life. She had just wanted a baby, a part of her and the man she loved united in one body, and all that she got was death. She hadn’t deserved it. At least the thought that she might be together with her baby in heaven now thanks to her belief in God soothed your heart a little.

“Go home, (Y/N).” The elderly nurse interrupted your train of thought.

Looking up, you saw her holding up your purse and coat. Apparently, she had led you to the lounge where the doctors and nurses spent their lunchtime.

“But I still have six hours to go.” You tried to argue, but bit down your lower lip when she shook her head.

“If someone should ask for you, I will tell them you didn’t feel well and that I sent you home. There are certain benefits as head nurse.” She winked at you, pushed your belongings into your hands, and shooed you in the direction of the exit.

“I promise I will feel better tomorrow.” You called over your shoulder and waved at her, giving her one last smile before you shrugged on your coat and left.

Thirty-two minutes later, you got off the bus and turned around the corner into your street, your purse dangling back and forth on your wrist. With your extra five hours, maybe you could finally start that book on your bedside table if your dad wouldn’t find any reason to turn your attention to him.

Feeling slightly more cheerful, you walked a little faster, already searching for the key. Like always, you checked the mailbox — nothing again — before you hopped up the one flight of stairs to your apartment, the sound of your heels on the wood filling the otherwise silent staircase.

The noise seemed to attract the woman living across from you because you barely reached the top of the stairs when she ripped her door open and stared at you with wide eyes.

You paused and looked at her in concern. “Mrs. Walter? Is everything okay?” You asked and carefully inched closer to her.

For several moments, you didn’t get an answer. Only when you opened your mouth to ask her again, she slowly lifted her trembling arm and pointed past you at something you could not see.

Strange. The only thing back there was your apartment door, so…

The slamming of Mrs. Walter's door barely reached your ears when you turned around. All you could hear was eerie silence, not Mrs. Walter quickly putting her distance between her and the door, not the dog barking from above you that got awakened by the slamming door, not the traffic noises outside.

The door that you diligently locked every morning before you got to work and unlocked every evening when you returned home hung on its hinges. In quick strides, you reached it and ripped off the note that was nailed into the wood under the peephole. Your eyes scanned over the words as you pushed the door open and entered the apartment.

A search was carried out here due to a tip-off of a conspiracy against the country and its people. All residents are requested to report immediately...

Tears clouded your view and made it impossible to make out the rest of the words. But there was no need to. You already knew what you needed to know. Your father was dead, no questions asked, no evidence to prove that he was innocent or guilty, no interference by the judiciary. He had dug his own grave since he started to badmouth and criticize the current sins committed by the government.

You slowly navigated your way through your destroyed home, your hands supporting yourself against the wall, careful to not get caught in something with your pumps. You had to duck under the big shelf close to the entrance of the living room. It was tilted to the side so that the upper part was now leaning against the other side of the wall. Everything that had ever been placed onto it — pictures, plants, certificates, and other little knick-knacks — was now scattered on the floor.

It got even worse in the living room. Everything had been turned upside down. Your father’s chair was thrown to the side just like the couch and the coffee table. The books from the huge bookshelf that covered the length of the smallest wall in here were pulled out and tossed on the floor, pages ripped out and strewn on the floor. Pictures were taken from the walls and the glass crunched as you stepped over them. Dirt was covering the floor as if someone had been digging in the soil of the potted plants. The carpet was overturned, partly thrown onto the couch, and revealed the wooden floor it usually covered.

Your living room had been thoroughly searched and you doubted the rest of your home looked any different.

In a daze, you carelessly let your purse drop to the floor and shuffled to your bedroom. Opening the door, you were greeted with a view you had expected — your bed was tilted to the side, clothes from your closet were now scattered on the floor, and your mirror was lying face down on the floor.

When you saw the pictures of you and your family carelessly thrown into the corner, you couldn’t hold the sob in any longer. You sank to your knees, curled into a ball, and cried to your heart’s content with your eyes squeezed shut.

You lost your mother at a young age, lost your father for the first time after his accident, lost your brother to the country, and now lost your father for the second and final time. Now you were wholly and utterly alone. Not for long, though. If you didn’t come forward and turned yourself in to a possible fair trial in the next sixteen hours, you would be taken just like your father and die the same way he did.

Your breakdown had been apparently so nerve-wracking and tiring that when you opened your eyes, it was dark inside your room and outside your window. Groggily, you propped yourself up and looked around, disappointedly ascertain that you hadn’t been dreaming at all. Your eyes scanned your room, still a little out of it, until you spotted your clock on the wall, surprisingly intact. 9:24 PM. Now you had less than ten hours left.

How would you spend your last ten hours in freedom? You didn’t know, but you for sure wouldn’t do it in here. You needed to leave.

As quick as you could you switched your nurse uniform to a skirt and your favorite blouse, fixed your make-up and your hair to look less like a mess and more like the respectable woman you usually were, and left the apartment after putting on your shoes, coat and grabbed your purse. At first, you strolled around with no real destination in mind, but the darker it got the higher the risk of being stopped by a patrolling soldier.

You had enough money with you to occupy yourself with a few drinks, so why not enjoy yourself, let a little loose. You never really got the chance to try it out. Your job unironically prevented you from unnecessarily damaging your liver and you had the responsibility to take care of your family. Your girlfriends always invited you on girl’s night, but sadly you had to decline almost every time, be it your father or another night shift forced upon you. They had another planned on the weekend in a few days, the first one in a very long time you would have had time for. Not anymore. When they would sit around a table and share the newest gossip, you had already started to rot away in a mass grave.

You entered the first, non-shady-looking bar and plopped down on one of the bar stools on the right. When the bartender finally took notice of you, all he needed to do was to take in your gloomy figure pitifully slumped in your seat to grab a glass and fill it with a brown liquid. No words were spoken — you didn’t feel like it and he noticed that — as you grabbed the glass, tossed the liquor back, and placed the now empty glass back down. The alcohol, whatever it was, burned like hell and you couldn’t help but cough, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. The bartender meanwhile had wordlessly filled your glass again and without any hesitation, you emptied that one too.

You spend almost four hours like that. Losing count after your sixth shot, your head started to feel funny, like the world around you was spinning too fast. You mused what your life would have been like if your mother hadn’t died when you were just nine years old, if your father hadn’t lost his legs when you were seventeen, if your brother had chosen a normal job at your current age. You could have grown up like any normal girl, could have joined your friends more often to hang out, could have started going on dates again after your last boyfriend dumped you for neglecting him.

And what about your future? What about the man you wanted to marry in a few years? Every day you daydreamed of someone who would just sweep you away in his arms and take you far, far away from here. There had to be a place somewhere where you could live your life in peace without a brewing war and the constant fear of death. You waited for someone who would make your life easier than it currently was, who would take the weight from your shoulders and not add some more on them every single day. Someone who loved you passionately and would spoil you after nine years of labor where you worked yourself to the bone. Someone who would take charge and let you rest when you needed it. Someone who was the other half of your soul that hopelessly awaited to be rejoined with its counterpart.

When you reached out to your glass for the nth time, a hand softly clasped your wrist. Looking up, you saw the bartender giving you the same pitiful look you had received for God knows how often today, from your colleague at the hospital to some of the other patrons who entered and left the bar during the last few hours.

“I think you should get home.” He said firmly and pulled his hand away.

No longer being hindered, you lifted the glass up to your lips and emptied it in one go. “I no longer have a home.” You dully answered, your speech a little slurred.

“We close in a few minutes.” He tried another route, anything to get you to stop drinking.

He may not be interested in what personal business you have to drink yourself under the table, but even he wouldn’t let a young woman like you do that to herself.

“Fine.” You mumbled, grabbed your purse, and searched for the money that was stored somewhere in there. You hummed when you finally found it and without looking at it, you dropped it down on the counter. “Here.”

You held onto the sleek surface of the bar to lift yourself up and from your seat, supporting your whole weight with one hand while you needed several attempts to grab your coat. Not bothering to put it on, you turned to leave and even you were surprised that you could still walk in a (more or less) straight line.

“Hey, you paid too much!” The bartender called from behind you.

Not bothering to stop or turn around, you simply proclaimed, “Keep it. Where I go I won't need it.” and pushed the entrance door open.

Outside, you tilted your head up, closed your eyes, and took a deep breath of the cool night air. It instantly freshened you up and cleared your mind a little. Looking left and right along the sidewalk, you decided to take the left and began strolling wherever it was taking you, once again with no actual destination in mind. You had no idea what time it was, but you guessed you had around five or six hours left. If you’re lucky and didn’t get held up by some patrols, you could visit the park one last time where your parents, Emil and you would hold a picnic every summer when you were younger. It would only take you ten minutes on foot. It wouldn’t hurt to visit the place that held so many good childhood memories and bask in them in your final hours.

You were walking for mere two minutes when you heard a whistle from your right. Halting your steps, you turned your head to the side and looked over to the source. There, on the other side of the street, were two men sitting on a bench and two standing around them. One was holding a beer bottle while the others were smoking their cigarettes.

“Hey, pretty lady.” The one with the beer bottle called over to you and lifted it to toast to you.

You quickly snapped your head back forward and continued on your way, your strides bigger and faster to create as much distance between you and them as possible.

When you thought you were safe, you felt a hand clasping your wrist whose owner pulled you back and against his strong chest.

“Hey, hey, hey.” The voice of the man with the beer bottle breathed against your ear, sending an uncomfortable shiver down your spine. “Don’t be shy. We were just celebrating my friend’s promotion.” To your horror, he put his hands on your hips and turned you both to his three companions who had seemingly followed him, all of them wearing leering grins. “Why don’t you join us, hm? We could need a little entertainment.” He murmured against your neck, his breath reeking of alcohol.

Before he could place his lips anywhere close to your skin, you struggled out of his grip and stumbled a few steps away from him. “I-I’m sorry, but I need to go home. I’m already late.”

The man who seemed to be the leader of the bunch stepped closer to you, smirking when you accidentally walked right into one of his friends. The guy immediately held you against him, keeping you in place.

“I think you could spare a couple of minutes.” The leader said firmly and reached for your blouse.

Fear seemed to be a great way to quickly sober one up because the next thing you did was stomp down on the foot of the man that was holding you, your heel hitting his toe perfectly, causing him to let you go with a cry in pain and a curse. Next, you rammed your knee into the crotch of the man in front of you and when his body doubled over, you pushed him to the side and bolted down the sidewalk.

Not daring to look back, you sprinted as fast as you could, but the alcohol made it hard to keep balance, not to mention the nausea that bubbled up in your stomach. But you ignored it and tried to keep it down when you heard their calls from behind you, coming closer and closer.

This was not how you wanted to spend your last night, this was not how you imagined it. Tears clouded your view and you narrowly escaped the grabby hand of whatever guy that was closest to you when you ducked down and sharply took a left turn into an alley.

Unbeknownst to you, you were being watched.

The next thing you felt was hard concrete as you fell forward when a heavy weight collided with your back. You cried out in pain when you hit your head, then hysterically screamed in panic when you felt hands on your skirt and you started kicking around, not caring if you hit something or not. You heard a grunt when your heel finally made contact with the shoulder of one of them, but you had barely time to bask in your little victory when a punch to your face almost knocked you out cold. Your body went instantly slack, a long-winded groan leaving your mouth.

“Move your ass and hold her down.” The voice of the leader sounded from somewhere above you. “And turn her around. I like to watch their face when they give up.”

Hands turned you on your back as your screams and cries accompanied your attempts to fight their hands off.

“No… please no.” You begged as your wrists were pinned above your head by a pair of rough hands. “No!” You screamed louder, in a high-pitched, panicking voice when your blouse was ripped open, your brassiere following suit, and your chest got groped by a calloused hand.

You squeezed your eyes shut when you felt an eager mouth around your nipple, harshly sucking on it, while your breasts were still in a painfully hard grasp. You tried to gather your last strength, the drinks earlier and then the hit to your head from the fall tempted you to just fall unconscious, but you bucked your body up in hopes you could throw whoever was above you off of you.

Only you couldn’t move. Someone was straddling your thighs, hindering you from moving.

You finally forced yourself to open your eyes and the blurry image of the leader pushing up your skirt presented itself in front of you.

“Stop, please! Help!” You started screaming again, causing the leader to sigh in annoyance.

“Could you please shut her up, for fuck’s sake? I’m trying to enjoy myself here.” He growled at the guy who was holding your hands down, his patience growing thinner with every passing moment he wasn’t able to force himself inside you. “When I’m done with her, you get what’s left of her.”

“No, no, no, no...” You wailed when you heard the clinking of his belt and a zipper being opened, but you soon got silenced when a palm pressed down on your mouth.

Rather than keep watching him, you closed your eyes in defeat, now only feeling how he moved closer to your crotch, his fingers pushing your underwear aside, and positioned himself against your entrance.

A dull thud behind your attackers stilled them for a moment, but a raging roar got them to whip around. You kept your eyes squeezed shut, not wanting to see whatever feral animal was going to maul you and those men.

A scream, something wet splashing on you and something, someone, heavy landing on top of you got you to finally open your eyes again. You stared right into a gaping hole where the head of a person normally should be. Maybe it was the shock of almost ending up left on the ground in this alley, covered in bruises, blood and bodily fluids after they were done with you, that kept you from screaming.

In a daze, you pushed the corpse off of you, and looked down at your body. It was covered in blood, parts of a splattered brain, and white fragments that had been the skull of the leader of the group. His head had bursted into pieces. No animal could have done that and no human either. There was no weapon on earth with that much destructive power, so what…

With slow eyes, you looked up from your soiled legs. The guy now lying dead next to you had been obscuring the view of a large creature standing no more than three meters across from you.

Whatever it was, it seemed livid. Its body was heaving with wrathful breaths and its long fingers were twitching, clenching into fists before relaxing them again. The massive form of it was hidden by darkness and you could barely make out its silhouette.

It felt like an eternity with you just staring at the creature and it (probably) staring right back. The other assaulters, two of whom had fallen to the ground in shock with the sudden attack on their leader, hadn’t dared to move a muscle. Maybe they were in a trance just as you were, not for the same reason of course.

“H-Hey!” The fourth guy squeaked, breaking the tension that seemed to suffocate the whole alley. “Wha-“

In a practiced, seemingly effortless movement, the creature whipped out its arm, and something silvery shot out of the darkness. It wrapped around the throat of the man, choking him and sending him to his knees. He was clawing his neck and tried to remove what seemed to be a whip made out of sleek silver and grey material. 

You watched him as he desperately tried to free himself and blood started to flow from where the whip was wrapped around his neck down to his shirt, turning the light blue fabric deep red. Your eyes then traveled along the bladed chain, you now noticed, to the other end of it, and found the large creature moving towards you.

If you would have been able to make a sound, you would have, but you were still too out of it that no noise escaped your bloody lips when you were finally able to distinguish your savior. 

It was indeed huge, a massive body that was dwarfing any human being you could think of. Its appearance was bizarre. Its feet and calves up to its knees were in unusual boots, made out of metal instead of leather and an interesting design. You wondered if it was the skin of the creature, or if it was wearing a net-like cloth that was visible on every body part that wasn’t hidden beneath armor like the chest plate that bleed over into a full sleeve of its arm. It was covering the left side of its chest, but not enough to conceal a rather fit upper body. You found yourself staring a lot longer at the well-defined, almost sculpted abs of it. It was no doubt a male.

As you were eyeing the creature up, he yanked on the whip. You were only aware of a dull thud when the bladed chain cut off the head of the man who had been in its hold. 

You didn’t register when more blood sprinkled on you as you were too busy trying to imagine a face underneath that strange mask. With his green, brownish, and beige reptilian skin, the long black tendrils sprouting from the head, the long claws, and the animalistic posture, he was without a doubt not human. 

An arm wrapping around your throat from behind, preventing you from breathing evenly, brought you back to reality. You immediately put up a fight, scratching it and pulling on the arm in hopes he would let go.

It was one of the attackers that had fallen to the ground when the creature had appeared. He must have scrambled over to you when his last companion was foolishly enough to run up to the murderous beast, trying to do something quite laughable, only to be impaled by a spear and was now hanging on the wall to the right like he was a portrait above a chimney, the spear rammed through the brick of the apartment building.

The idiot behind you thought the creature would let him go if he was holding you hostage as if he wasn’t going to kill the both of you just like his buddies. So foolish, you internally sighed.

“S-S-Stop! I‘m warning you!” He screamed at the towering figure which was closing in on you. “I will… I will kill her!”

The creature stopped a few steps away from you and reached behind his back. Quicker than your eyes could keep up, his hand shot forward and he threw something of the size of an orange at the man.

Yelling, the man loosened his grip, his instincts kicking in to fight against whatever was sticking to his forehead. In his struggle, he fell on his back and started rolling around on the floor when the little device made a strange wiring noise. His body went stock still when he was engulfed in a net, restraining him. Then the man screamed bloody murder when the wiring noise grew louder and the device pulled the net tighter around him.

You turned to him, only to see the strings cutting into his skin, drawing blood, until only pieces of his body were left of him, leaving him unidentifiable to whoever would find him and his friends.

Now it was only you in that alley. You, the beast that saved you and the bloody massacre turning the place into an image of horror.

You were going to get sick if you stared at what had been a living and breathing human once any longer. Rather than wanting to face the creature when it was going to kill you, you turned back around and then startled back. Said beast was crouching in front of you, the head cocked to the side.

He reached out a clawed hand and you closed your eyes, preparing yourself for whatever gruesome death he had planned for you. You thought back to everything you had achieved in your life, every person that was still dear to you, said goodbye to every place you loved to visit, to the movie you had wanted to watch in a week with a friend, to the unread book on your bedside table and every dream you had wanted fulfill — you had actually planned to do that in a few hours. At least he was going to give you a quick death and not whatever the authorities had done to your father.

Something poked your cheek.

Your eyes snapped open and you were met with a closer view of the strange mask covering the creature‘s face. His hand was outstretched and a finger was prodding your skin. A strange noise was coming from behind the mask, something you could only describe as a rumbling purr. 

You stayed still, afraid if you would only move a muscle it would set the creature off, and let him drag his clawed finger up to your temple where a trail of blood had started to run from the wound you got from the fall. You hissed in pain when the pad of his thumb stroked — probably unintentionally hard — over your lower lip, the rough skin touching where it was busted. He pulled its thumb away only to replace it with the back of his pointer and middle finger to caress your jaw and down to your throat. The touch caused you to swallow which he most likely could feel. Only when you felt the scaly sensation on your skin dip too deep, too far beneath the ripped remains of your blouse, you gripped his wrist.

The creature’s head snapped up where it had followed his exploration. You flinched back at the sudden movement and quickly loosened your hold on his wrist, pulling it away like you had burnt yourself.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, your voice hoarse.

What if you had just signed your death? What if you touching him like that had triggered him? What if he thought you were a threat now? What if he thought of it as highly offensive? What if he was going to kill you now? What if-

A low thump caused you to flinch when he hit the left side of his chest with his right fist. With parted lips, you looked from his fist up to his masked face and then back again, confused, both at the gesture and the lack of aggression towards you. Almost as if he could understand the look on your face, he repeated the action with a little more determination after he inched closer to you. You were more focused on his sudden closeness, daring not to move back, but you hastily turned your gaze down to his fist. It was a little hard to concentrate on what he was trying to tell you after the vast change of demeanor — from murdering in cold blood to trying to… communicate with you?

“You?” You tried hesitantly.

It really was your best guess on what he could mean.

A soft growl reached your ears from underneath his mask, making you tense up but relaxed in relief the second his attention turned to his forearm. You watched in curiosity as his clawed pointer finger ghosted over the armor-like wristband that started flashing in a bright red and made strange beeping noises like when a caller on the other line hung up before you could. Your mouth opened without you even noticing. You had never seen something like it, probably no one ever had. How was it functioning without cables like your telephone and radio did?

“Are you telling me you are married?”

You jumped back a little when a male voice chimed from his wristband.

“To a cup of tea, I will never say no.”

“I can’t believe you put the jar in the oven!”

You looked at him in astonishment as more voices sounded from his forearm. Human voices.

He kept repeating the same three sentences, but they seemed to get shorter with every replay.

“-telling me you are… telling me… me.”

“-a cup of tea… tea.”

“-you put the jar in the… you put the jar… the jar… jar.”

He seemed to be satisfied as he let out a deep, low-pitched chirp before he played the cut and put together word snippets to you, his head facing you now.

“Me-tea-jar.” He hit his chest once again before playing the word again. “Me-tea-jar.”

“Meetja?” You tried the word, tried how it felt on your tongue.

He let out a deep grumble before he played the same word again and leaned even closer to you.

“Me-tea-jar.”

“M-Meetiar. Mi’ytiar.”

With his head slightly cocked to the side, he tilted it forward in a one-movement nod as if to say, “Now you got it.” and his fist hit his chest one last time.

“You. Mi’ytiar. T-That’s your name?” You asked and hoped you put the puzzle pieces together correctly.

Another nod before he pointed at you.

“Oh.” You softly said, shifted slightly your hips, and nervously placed a hand on your own chest. “(Y/N). I’m (Y/N).”

“(Y/N).” Your voice sounded from his forearm when he touched his wristband. “(Y/N).”

You couldn’t help the small smile and you nodded. “Yes. (Y/N).”

The creature — Mi’ytiar — lowly grumbled in appreciation and you breathed out the air you had been holding in your lungs in a laugh. You couldn’t believe you talked, more or less, to something that undoubtedly didn’t belong on earth while you were surrounded by death after being spared from something that would have scarred you for life just because you had been out drinking to have one last night in freedom until you would follow your father in an early grave. Your life really had taken a strange turn in just a few hours.

“What are you?” You asked him and tilted your head to the side.

“Hunter.” He communicated with the help of his wristband.

“Where do you come from?”

“Sky.”

“Sky.” You repeated the child’s voice and looked up.

So he came from the sky. You wondered if he meant the clouds, or maybe the moon. It could be the stars for all you knew. Was he the only one living there, or were there more? Maybe one like him lived on each star the night sky had to offer.

As you were looking up in thought, Mi’ytiar took his time to admire you. You were, what you humans would use, adorable. He didn’t hunt humans very often as they weren’t much of a challenge, but sometimes he would visit earth out of curiosity. Your kind was interesting and his ancestors had been quite fond of them when they used them to breed their prey centuries ago. Humans have made a continuous development from then to now, so it was fascinating to watch.

Like he watched you now. He admired your wide eyes, the curve of your nose, and your rosy cheeks that displayed the dried tear streaks of panic and fear. He admired the shape of your lips and the cut that had caused you pain when he touched it. He admired your shiny hair that had once been pulled up in a neat bun but was now hanging loosely and messily around your face, framing it like it was a piece of art. He admired your small, shaking hands that were desperately holding the ripped-open blouse together, protecting your modesty, and the naked skin of your trembling shoulders when the fabric had slipped down to your biceps. You had been so incredibly warm and soft when he had touched what you were hiding now.

A quiet hiss got you to look back at him and you watched with uncertainty as his fingers first pulled on the one tube that was connected to his mask and then the other before he removed it anxiously slow. You mentally prepared yourself for the most horrific sight of your life, but when the top half of his face was laid bare, you sucked in a breath. It wasn’t the foreign shape of his head, the texture of his skin, or the spiky triangle-shaped bumps that circled the sides and the back of his head like a crown, clearly dividing where the roots of his hair ended and his face started. It was his eyes, though an abnormal orange, that were salient and captivating you. They didn’t look like what your wildest fantasies had to offer, but somewhat seemed almost human — a black pupil surrounded by an orange iris. And not just any orange. It was the kind of orange that stretched across the sky at every sunrise and sunset. The only difference you spotted from your own eyes was that he had a black sclera instead of a white one.

You would have gotten lost in them if he hadn’t removed the mask fully so his lower face was showing too. You wouldn’t exactly describe it as terrifying, but the sight of his mouth was, to say it simply, unnerving. It was hidden behind four tusks that represented his mandibles. You were fascinated when he suddenly made a clicking noise but were taken aback when he extended the fleshy texture to reveal two rows of teeth. It was like he had two jaws, one when the mandibles were retracted to his face and one when they were extended and showed his actual mouth. His upper jaw held three teeth with two larger fangs on each side, his lower jaw held the same amount only were they a little thinner, so his fangs wouldn’t hinder his mouth from closing.

Even after the initial shock subsided, you wouldn’t exactly use the word pretty, but there was something about him. Thrilling and particular, astounding and intriguing, but also alluring.

The longer you looked at him, at Mi’ytiar, the more accustomed you got to his appearance.

Another clicking sound reached your ears and you stopped mapping his features with your eyes, only now realizing how he looked down at you with his head tilted to the side. When you mumbled his name, almost as if it took all your courage, he straightened up and his eyes snapped to your hand that had loosened its grip on your blouse. He followed the movement of it getting closer to his face and when you turned your hand so your palm was facing him, his own hand reacted fast and grabbed your delicate wrist.

Bad idea, real bad idea, you thought. He wasn’t exactly hurting you, but his grip wasn’t exactly soft.

Instead of tugging against his hold in an attempt to free yourself that would obliviously fail, you let your arm go slack. Instead of panicking, you remained calm. Instead of screaming at him to let you go, you kept your mouth shut and waited for his next move. If you triggered him in any way, he would surely kill you.

Mi’ytiar, on the other hand, was amazed with you, in awe. He wouldn’t be the first Yautja to be enthralled with a human in this kind of way, sure, but he hadn’t expected to be one of them one day. You were extraordinary in the way you looked at him, didn’t mind the proximity he had put you in, and apparently seemed to seek for it.

Contrary to what you believed, he pulled your hand closer to his face by the wrist, causing you to move from your side-sit on the floor to get on your knees. Your lips parted in surprise when he pulled his mandibles in and he himself brought your hand up to his cheek.

The sensation underneath your touch was unusual and new. His cheek wasn’t like that of a human when you would press the fat until you could feel the jaw bone. It was springy, considering it was only a fleshy layer that covered his mouth. You moved your hand down to his outer jaw which consisted of his mandible and followed the length of it with your palm. You could feel the firm muscle and bone and gave it a gentle, experimental squeeze. Almost automatically he made a soft purring noise like that one of a cat and you blushed at the possibility that he was enjoying the caress.

You, of course, had no idea that you were touching a highly sensitive part of his anatomy and would be alive to tell the tale afterward.

Just as you were curious about him, he was eager to explore you as well. Carefully, he reached out and through the ripped-open front of your blouse. Seconds later his palm made contact with your stomach and he could feel how you tensed up. He looked up into your eyes, but when he found nothing that indicated that you despised his touch, his hand ran along to your waist and down to your hip, his thumb absentmindedly stroking your belly. It was strange how you could feel his thumb near your navel and at the same time his other fingers on your lower back, taking the width of your hip like it was nothing.

The both of you were too busy in your explorations that you had grown ignorant to your surroundings, so when a scream filled the previously quiet alley, you grabbed his extended arm, not to push it away but to hold onto it in panic, while Mi’ytiar whirled his head around to the two outlines standing near the street at the end of the alley. Your body was hidden by his massive one, so it looked like a monster was kneeling among his freshly killed victims, basking in the glory of his crime.

Mi’ytiar’s mandibles flared and the guttural roar that left his lungs made you cling to him in fear. Not of him, but the consequences that you would have to face if those who had stumbled upon this scene without context would call for the patrolling soldiers. You heard more screams and hastily retreating footsteps as the couple ran as if their lives depended on it.

Large hands grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you up on his shoulder, causing you to squeal in surprise, and you had barely time to hold onto him before he started climbing up the metal scaffolding of the balconies of the apartment building, jumping up and landing on the roof. With an arm secure around your waist, he jumped and ran further and further away.

And you let him.

2024, Yautja Prime

“What you smiling for?”

And all of a sudden, those purred words were taking you from your past life to your current one. You hadn’t even noticed you had stopped drawing random figures and forms on Mi’tyiar’s naked chest. At some point, you had started daydreaming with that far-away look in your eyes and a smile slowly making its way on your lips as you were lying on him, between his legs.

“Just thought of the night we met.” You drawled lazily and rubbed your cheek against his reptilian-like skin. “My hero in shining alien amour.”

“My amour does not shine.”

Now you had to laugh. Sometimes you couldn’t help yourself when he was so bluntly clueless. Humans and their analogies were oh so confusing.

“It’s a human saying, my love.” You explained as you crossed your arms on his wide chest and rested your chin on them. “A male who saves a female from danger. A male who would sacrifice himself so the female can get away without harm.”

Mi’ytiar reached towards your face and cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking your cheek before he dragged it over your lower lip. You were dreamingly looking up at him, basking in his loving touch. You were placing your hand on his and turned your head to the side so you could pepper his palm with light kisses.

He couldn’t help his body’s reaction, he just couldn’t. He was starved of your touch.

You suddenly stopped your sweet kisses when you felt something big poking your stomach. You looked down, although you could only see how your breasts were pressed against him before you looked back up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“You are insatiable.” You smirked and hoisted yourself up after placing one last kiss between his pecs.

You straddled his midriff but left enough space between you and him so you could reach underneath your body and grab his semi-hard cock. Even at this size, you had a little trouble to fully embrace it and getting your fingertips to touch.

You hissed when you felt the familiar sting of his sharp mandibles and teeth digging into your skin. You tilted your head to the side and offered him more access. Mi’ytiar let out a feral growl when your blood finally hit his tongue. He relished in it, tasting so sweet, just like the rest of you.

Grasping your hips with both of his hands, his claws scratching your delicate skin, he pushed them down to his crotch.

He needed you again, needed to be so deep inside you, so he could see the bulge of his cock forming in your tummy. Just the thought of it made his hips snap up, barely missing your entrance, and dragging his cock through your sopping wet folds that were covered with your combined releases from your last mating moments ago. It elicited a whiny moan and a wiggle of your hips.

“Stop teasing, tanhì. Put it in.” You groaned and started rubbing yourself up and down his rock-hard cock, coating it with your mixed cum that was still leaking from your hole.

Mi’ytiar wrapped a large arm around you and started to get up, his other arm supporting himself, to manhandle you on your back to be on top. The second your hazy mind registered what he was doing, you placed both of your hands on his chest and pushed him back down. You preened when his body immediately went slack, allowing you to do as you pleased with him.

He was staring up at you with flashing eyes. You didn’t take the lead very often, preferring it to be dominated by your mate, but when you did, he was gladly giving you the power you wanted.

The first time you had tried to be on top, it had gone from steamy to ugly pretty quickly. You had been on your back when you tried to push him and switch your position, but since he had been unmovable like a rock, you had untangled yourself from him and told him to lie back. You were straddling his hips, humping his hardening cock for exactly thirty seconds before he flipped you over and on your back again. You had then mewled and tried to push him back once more, causing him to growl. For your attitude he bit roughly into your throat, hoping it would keep you submissive. You let out a cry and hit his chest with both of your fists. This time Mi’ytiar had shown you his displeasure more vocal when he slammed his flat hands next to both sides of your head and roared right into your face. Safe to say, it scared the living daylights out of you and caused you to escape his caging arms. He, of course, followed you quickly and tried to amend his outburst rather with purrs and snuggles than words.

The next time you were on top, he vehemently focused on staying seated on the edge of your nest with you on his lap as you rode him with his helping hands on your hips. His eyes strayed from the spot where his cock was disappearing inside of you, to the bulge in your stomach that grew and shrunk with every movement, to your bouncing breasts, to your pleasure-contorted face.

After that, he couldn’t get enough of you being on top.

The same was the case now as you slowly inserted his throbbing cock into your-

A wail broke the sensual atmosphere, causing the both of you to jerk your heads to the doorway connecting the room to the rest of your home. With your maternal instincts kicking in, you practically jumped up from your mate, his half-inside cock slipping from your tight heat, and run to the room where the sound was coming from.

Mi’ytiar slumped back with a displeased grunt. He loved his pup dearly, truly he did, but he hadn’t been able to mate with you for an eternity — five months, double the time the healer had advised you to keep from being intimate with each other after the pregnancy because a certain someone had been overly cautious with you — and his cock throbbed painfully at that sorrowful thought.

He got up from the nest and followed the direction you had run off to. Your five-month-old pup was sleeping alone in his room for only a short part of his life. Before that, his crib had been standing next to the nest in your room, quickly accessible and in reach should he need any sort of attention. Now he was sleeping in his big brother’s former nursery you had lovingly prepared when you had been pregnant with Akail, your first pup.

Mi’ytiar watched you standing in front of the crib in the middle of the room, your back to him, as you rocked the whiny pup in your arms. The wholesome thoughts of his beautiful mate taking such good care of his youngling quickly turned into an animalistic need to breed you once more when his eyes trailed over your curves that had gotten bigger after bearing his second son. They fixed on your legs where trails of semen were running down your skin from between your inner thighs.

He was faster by your side than you would expect from a being of his size. He pressed his bare body against your own, hands on your hips pulling you closer, his cock digging into your back. Mi’ytiar bent down to snuggle his face into the crook of your neck, purring lowly.

“He was just hungry.” You whispered as you watched your pup falling back to sleep.

Bending over, you placed your little one back into his crib, careful not to disturb him. You had to bite your lip when you felt Mi’ytiar pull you back against his crotch to rub himself against your ass. All you needed to do was push your ass back into him for him to grab you, throw you over his shoulder and turn to leave your son’s nursery.

Giggling, you looked back to the pup’s crib and whispered, “Dream of the stars, my little Toyah.” before you got carried back to your nest.

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[sl-ut]

still here

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

description: joel is older than y/n, but that’s never been a concern of hers until very recently.

warnings: UNEDITED, age gap (legal), swearing, mentions of sex, mentions of ageing, mentions of health issues, mentions of insecurities, angsty, i literally stole the final line from tlou s1e3

words: 2.3K

date posted: 29/03/23

(idk how i feel about this yet, the idea just popped into my head and i wrote it in about an hour and a half so don’t be too mad if its not great!)

Fifty-eight was not old. Y/n had been reassuring Joel of that since they had started dating. Maybe he was older than her, but that had very little to do with the way that she felt about him. 

His age was among his biggest insecurities. He was a man who had lived through and was hardened by the apocalypse, while she was just a child when it happened, and was able to deal with the trauma of the world ending much better due to the fact that she simply couldn’t remember any part of her life from before. The apocalypse had taken a great toll on him, both emotionally and physically. 

Twenty-odd years ago, he was a relatively young man, and a rather fit one at that. As a contractor, his body had developed and hardened from the amounts of physical labour that he was constantly performing, and while he was still physically active after the outbreak, his age made it more difficult to prevent his belly from softening and his joints from weakening. He was less willing to admit that he was insecure about his physical appearance, though he did very little to hide it. In fact, he had batted her away during their first few times having sex when she had tried to unbutton his shirt, instead choosing to stay mostly clothed while she was nearly bare. She did her best to assure him that she was very attracted to him, though it still took quite a bit of coaxing before he was willing to shed his clothes in her presence. 

Her attraction was not phased by his age, in fact, it may have been accelerated by it, though she could not deny the fact that it definitely frightened her. When she first met Joel, she was a bright-eyed twenty-year old who was morbidly turned on by the sexy fifty-year old man next door, and was wildly ignorant to the looming danger when she had started a relationship with him a few years later; the world was not built for long lifespans anymore, and there would come a day when Joel would no longer be there with her. During their early relationship, Joel warned her of exactly that, but she waved him off and promised him that it didn’t scare her.

And it hadn’t, until fairly recently. She was grateful that she, Ellie, and Joel had come across Jackson; she was able to let her guard down, socialise, and thrive in the new community. She and Joel were able to settle into their new home while Ellie set up camp in the garage out back, and they could look forward to actually living rather than basic survival. The lessened worry in her life allowed her to see what was right before her for the first time.

She had comforted Joel before when he complained about the pain in his knees and hands, though she was truly seeing the effects that it was having on him since their arrival in Jackson. Just last week, the man had nearly thrown his back out from laughing a bit too hard at something that Ellie said, and his salt-and-pepper hair seemed to have lightened considerably more. 

She had even noted his lowered libido, having gone from wanting her at least once a day to once or twice a week–though she was certain it wasn’t for a lack of physical attraction on his end, as he had been eager when she began to kiss him, only his body seemed to be working against his wants. That was his greatest insecurity yet, especially since it had begun happening on a more regular basis. He was always quick to apologise, offering to help her out in other ways, though she always assured him that everything was fine, and it was.

Everything was fine, but her fear of that changing was growing exponentially with every physical sign of his ageing. She did her best to hide her concerns, knowing that they would only be proof of his insecurities, and instead made an effort to keep him healthy in a more subtle manner, such as suggesting that he eats less red meat, inviting him on long evening strolls through the town, and forcing him to join her for long bubble baths to soothe his aches and pains. If he had picked up on this, he hadn’t mentioned it, and she could always tell when he did, because he would wave it off or do something ridiculous that would only end up proving her point.

Then came the final straw.

She was working in the gardens with Maria that day, chatting back and forth happily and they worked to tidy up the growing crops. They had become good friends in Y/n’s time in Jackson, bonding over their shared love for the Miller boys. Maria had been rambling, going on about something that Tommy had done to piss her off earlier that week, finishing her story with a shake of her head before she changed the subject.

“Oh, I meant to ask you,” the woman turned her head, “How’s Joel feeling today? Tommy told me about what happened, that’s an awful scare. At his age, chest pain is not something to be taken lightly–not to say that he’s old or unhealthy, but you know how it is.”

Y/n froze, tilting her head at the woman, “Tommy told you…chest pain?”

“He never told you.” Maria’s expression tightened, realising that the younger woman had no idea what she was talking about. She sighed, dropping her tools and turning to face Y/n as she placed her hands on her hips, “Look, I don’t mean to be the one causing issues between you two, but this isn’t something to mess around with. The other day, while Joel and Tommy were out on patrol, Tommy said that Joel suddenly got dizzy, weak, and was complaining about some pain in his chest. Now, in saying that, I know that he’s been to the doctor, and he’s probably got his reasons for not telling you.”

Y/n pursed her lips, face hardening at the sudden burn of tears at her waterline, “Yeah, I’m sure he did. When did you say this was?”

“Earlier this week. Tuesday, I think.”

She shook her head. It was Saturday, meaning that it had been almost an entire week since this happened and Joel had neglected to tell her. Y/n chose not to respond, quickly finishing up her work before bidding Maria goodnight, heading back to her shared house with Joel.

When she arrived, there was no response to her call, but Joel’s coat thrown on the back of the couch betrayed that he was home, and the soft sounds of his guitar coming from the back porch revealed his location. The strumming came to a stop as the backdoor creaked open, his eyes turning to face her with a soft smile.

“Hey, darlin’-” His peaceful expression shifted to one of worry when he took her in own sombre face, “What’s the matter–did something happen?”

She shook her head, shrugging as she leaned against the railing, “I don’t know, did something happen? Because today, when I was with Maria, she seemed awfully concerned about how you were feeling.”

Realisation dawned on his features, his brows furrowing as he moved the guitar out his lap and ran a hand over his face, “Baby, it’s nothin–”

“Don’t do that,” she scowled at him, “don’t tell me it’s nothing when it’s so clearly not nothing. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you worrying about me.”

She scoffed, “Fuck, you did a great job of doing that, didn’t you? What am I supposed to do when I hear from someone else that you had to go to the infirmary almost a week ago because you had chest pain? I mean, really, that’s not something to fuck around with, especially–”

“Especially what?” He challenged, already knowing what she was thinking.

Y/n stopped, debating whether or not she wanted to say it, “Especially at your age.”

He stood up and marched to the other side of the patio and rested his hands on the railing, looking out across the small backyard. Y/n could practically feel the emotions that radiated from him; a mixture of anger, annoyance, embarrassment, and shame. 

She sighed, moving to rest a hand on his back, “Joel, you know I don’t care about your age. I love you, but I need you to start taking care of yourself. This needs to be a wakeup call, I mean, it definitely is for me.”

“Why,” he huffed, “you finally coming to your senses? Finally realising that sooner or later I’m gonna–”

“Please don’t say it,” she whispered, sniffling softly as she rested her forehead in the middle of his back, “Please, please, please.”

Joel scowled, sliding away from her grasp, “About time you start to face reality, darlin’. I’m old, I’ve accepted it. Maybe you should wisen up and go find someone who’s not gonna leave you sooner or later, huh?”

Joel escaped into the house and out the front door, slamming it shut behind him. Y/n let out a shaky breath, moving to sit on the bench where Joel had been when she had gotten home, curling into herself and letting silent tears streak down her cheeks. It was only moments later when she heard her own name being called, Ellie creeping out onto the patio nervously.

Y/n wiped her cheeks, smiling weakly at the girl as she sat next to her, “Hey Jellybean.”

Ellie smiled at the name, having not heard it for a while now. She felt somewhat bad about that, having been a result of her requesting to be treated more like an adult, “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I was just over there, so…”

Y/n smiled at the teen, curling her arm around her shoulder affectionately, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just…concerned, I guess.”

She nodded, leaning against the older female, “Are you guys gonna be okay?”

Y/n smiled at the child-like question, as if she were asking her parents if they were getting a divorce–which, to be fair, she sort of was, “Yeah, baby. We’ll be okay.”

“Are you sure?”

The uncertainty in Ellie’s voice caused her breath to catch in her throat, finally thinking over the fight. Were they okay? Maybe you should wisen up and go find someone who’s not gonna be leaving you sooner or later. Those words in themselves felt like a knife driving into her gut–was that him ending things? She had dealt with Joel’s insecurities before, but he had never blatantly told her to leave him behind, nor has he ever explicitly pointed out that he would probably die long before her. Before she could even finish her thought, her head fell forward and a loud sob escaped from her throat. 

Ellie was quick to pull her into a hug, awkwardly trying to soothe her as she wept into her shoulder. She listened to her ramble on, struggling to understand everything that she was saying, frowning to herself as she made a mental note to go after Joel the moment that she felt comfortable enough to leave Y/n to herself.

– – –

Y/n’s eyes fluttered open as she felt the mattress shift beneath her. Her foggy vision took in her side of the room, dimly lit by the lamp on her bedside table before she glanced over her shoulder, finding Joel’s back as he leaned down to untie his boots. His back cracked as he straightened up, reminding her of their fight, though she was feeling more confident that he hadn’t broken up with her considering that he had come to bed with her. 

She reached out tiredly, fingers brushing over his back as she murmured his name. He turned his head slightly to acknowledge her, but he didn’t entirely face her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice hoarse from crying, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know,” he sighed, finally twisting his body to sit sideways on the mattress. His own face showed signs of stress, and his eyes were rimmed with red, “I know, baby. I’m sorry too.”

Joel apologising was no small feat, that much she knew. Normally when they fought, he would give a simple you were right and do something nice for her, but it was very rare for him to actually apologise.

“It’s just…” she pushed herself to sit up, “I know you don’t like to think about this, but it’s really scary for me. I’m not stupid, I know you’re older than me and I know that there’s no stopping the inevitable–” she choked, “but I won’t apologise for trying to prolong it as much as possible.”

He dropped his head, “I know, I’m scared too. Just the thought of leaving you here all on your own…”

She crawled across the bed, smoothly working her way onto his lap and engulfing him in a tight hug. The weight of his arms around her pulled yet another sob out of her throat. His large hands found purchase on her back, sliding up and down her spine as his chest shook with his own tears. 

She pulled her head out of his neck, staring up at him with large, teary eyes. Her hand came up to cup his cheek, forcing him to meet her eyes, “Please let me help you. I’m not ashamed of you or your age, but I don’t know how I’m gonna live without you, so please tell me next time.”

He nodded, “I’m sorry. For not tellin’ you, and for being so fuckin’ old.”

“I like you older,” she snorted, fingers stroking along his furry jawline, “it means you’re still here.”

[midnightsnyx]

aaron hotchner | photograph

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

a/n: i’ve never written criminal minds before but i have always been a die hard fan & wanted to try writing new characters other than what i usually write so i wrote this little blurb and decided to post it. pls be gentle, im sensitive lol

word count: 600

contrary to popular opinion, aaron hotchner wasn’t as cold as he seemed. he just needed to be around the right people, be around his people.

you knew this from the moment you met him, when he frantically rushed to the customer service desk after his name was paged over the intercom. you were doing your grochery shopping when you bumped into a lost little boy. he told you his name was jack, and that he had accidentally wandered away from his daddy. as you walked him to the customer service desk, he assured you that he absolutely was not scared but his dad would be and you needed to call him right away.

“daddy gets scared if he can’t find me,” jack told you solemnly while you waited with him until his dad showed up.

you were a kindergarten teacher and despite the insistence of the employee, your instinct was to stay with jack until his father arrived. in the short time that you spent with him, you learned a small amount about the boy. he told you that he wanted to be superman for halloween, he was six-years-old and his daddy worked for the FBI.

“jack!”

you turned your attention away from the boy to see a frantic looking man rushing towards the two of you. jack immediately jumped off the counter and raced towards his father, letting himself be scooped up and hugged tightly. you started to walk away, confident that jack was safe when a voice stopped you.

“thank you,” a deep voice said and you turned to see jack’s father looking at you.

you smiled. “no problem, just doing what anyone would do.”

he smiled tightly, and shook his head. “not everyone.”

you didn’t understand the deeper meaning behind his words until you’d been dating for a few months and he finally let you into the darker side of his life. after the cases that didn’t end well, and you got a first hand glance at just how cruel people could be.

“aaron,” he introduced himself, still holding jack but offering you his hand.

you shook it, told him your name and when jack innocently asked you to go for ice cream with them, you took the leap and accepted.

that was over a year ago, and you can’t imagine your life now without the two of them. even if your laundry doubled in size.

aaron had a bad habit of leaving his wallet in his pants pocket so you always had to double check every pocket before you put the clothes in the washer.

you were doing a load of laundry, shaking a pair of pants when his wallet tumbled out onto the floor. a picture fell out of it, and you smiled softly when you picked it up and saw a photo of you and aaron, taken at some dinner at rossi’s house. neither of you were looking at the camera, aaron’s hand tucking a loose piece of hair behind your head and you laughing at something.

you were staring at the photo for too long, because when a pair of arms wrapped around your waist you jumped but immediately relaxed when you looked up and saw aaron smiling at it.

“you keep that photo of us in your wallet?” you asked and he hummed.

“and a picture of jack,” he replied. “something to remind me that there’s still good in the world, even on the worst days.”

you turned around and wrapped your arms around him, tucking your face in his neck.

“i love you,” he whispered and you smiled.

“love you too.”

[echantedtoon]

RUN AWAY BUT I'LL FIND YOU AGAIN

@hantengus-fuckass-clones

@hantenguclonesimp-minuszoha

This is a sorta sequel to my Yandere Demons And Brides posts. Basically just headcannons of the demons of Y/n managed to escape.

Warnings for yandere themes, kidnapping mentions, possibly death mentioned, panic attacks, Hairou shooting himself, entrapment, mentioned wounds and scars, regular demon Slayer content, Douma/Karaku/Enmu IS his own warning, possibly some innuendos, etc.

If any of these warnings upset you pls don't read. I will be including Daki/Ume/Zohakutan in the line up as part of Gyutaro/Hantengu's part but she/he will be strictly PLATONIC yandere!! Absolutely NO romance between her/him and reader!! And her parts will be minor. Nakime is short and like last post I left her Yn GN while the others I wrote as female Yn.

Buckle up guys. This is gonna be a BIG post with all the demons from the last two posts. Especially Hantengu's part.

KOKUSHIBO:

-How you managed to escape him? Who knows? He's Upper Moon One and that's nearly an impossible feat.

-After reclaiming you as his wife, he expects you to take your place as a dutiful wife should. Which is why he's very disappointed when you're just acting scared and always refusing his advances instead of greeting him like a good wife should be!

-He's only allowed to have you because Muzan allows him too for being so loyal and efficient. But that means he can't pause his duties less his master changes his mind. So maybe that's why you were able to find an opening to escape the house he trapped you in. The one he expected you to clean for him and come to take care of for your lives together now.

-He's not shocked by your want to escape him but he is certainly surprised when he discovers the desperation you had smashed a boarded window open he had made sure to tightly close off. The wedding ring he always forced you to wear around him discarded on the floor amongst the broken glass and boards of wood. He didn't think you were strong enough to get it open.

-He has a mixed reaction. He's disappointed that you managed to leave, frustrated too and annoyed, surprised as said you were able to get out, but mostly disappointed. He's not angry. He's got very good control of his anger, if anything he's just disappointed that you would rather try to escape. Deep down he's very upset with himself, a Deep sting of rejection like all those years ago stinging him.

-Its doesn't matter however. He's patient. And it's not like you'll be able to outrun him for long.

DOUMA:

-Remember how I said that you're best chance to get away from him is when he's still confused about his feelings in the last post? If you choose to escape then, then he won't bother. Not at first at least. He'd still be too confused about everything and not know what was going on to go after you until he finally realizes it or someone explains it to him. By then you might hide well enough to never see him again.

-However if you managed to escape after- Bravo! Somehow you managed to bypass Douma and his cult. Only one piece of advice to give you-

-RUN! Run as FAST and as FAR AWAY as you can! Because a Douma with emotions is actually emotionally and mentally unstable.

-When you aren't there and no one can tell him where you are, he feels scared and panicked like never before. He's almost hyperventilating as he tears apart the compound desperately calling your name ordering his cult to search the compound and comb through the nearby forest and mountainside for any signs of you to no avail.

-When he realizes that you left him he goes through a rage he's never felt before. It's so overwhelming that he kills(absorbs) any and all cult members he thinks even remotely causes you to get away. A bloody scene that for once might make Muzan pleased with his existence. He doesn't stop there he tears apart his room to satisfy his anger throwing and smashing anything he can get his hands on and leaving claw marks all over the walls.

-After he eventually comes down from his rage, he feels numb for a while before he starts crying. He's sobbing uncontrollably and curled up in your bed hugging your pillow to him. A wave of sadness and betrayal stabbing him in the heart over and over.

-Why did you leave him?! Did you not feel loved enough?! Did he not give into every whim you wanted?! He stays there unable to control himself or answer his questions until nighttime. Hope you have a good head start because as soon as sunset hits, he's coming after you and this time you wont ever leave him again.

AKAZA:

-To be fair he'd probably be the easiest demon to escape from outta all the upper moons. It's still NOT easy to do so but because Akaza doesn't harm women let alone the one he's in love with, he'll not do anything to actually harm you other than keep you isolated and trapped in one spot because he's afraid anyone would harm you if he let you wonder around.

-He allows you to go outside (only at night and with him so he can watch you-) since he knows being cooped up can't be good for your health. This might be your only chance.

-Someone might not see being cared for is a bad thing but Akaza seems to almost infantize you. You won't be able to do anything yourself. Want to cook? He'll do it! You can burn yourself! Want to go for a walk? He'll agree with him but halfway through he's seeing you limp with your bad leg and just call it quits before just carrying you all the way home. Want to bathe? Ok but he's waiting for you right outside in case you slip and hit your head! He doesn't allow you to do anything yourself and if he does, he's right there or just outside the door in wait.

-You're best chance of escape is just crawling through a window during the day and legging it as far as you can. If you do do this, expect him to have the biggest panic attack in his life when he sees the open window. Hyperventilating as he pictures the most horrible worst case scenarios of you running into a bear or rogue demon without him there to protect you. Or worse- WHAT IF YOU ENCOUNTER DOUMA?!

-Hope you know a good hiding place because once he catches you, you're never being left alone again.

NAKIME:

-You literally couldn't escape her with her teleportation powers but let's say you did for the sake of this post. Sneaking out by diving through an open doorway she opened for another demon or Muzan.

-Its was a surprise really you made it out. Like Kokushibo she's very good at controlling her anger and wouldn't really be anger even. She's just disappointed and a bit annoyed her Husband/Wife(whichever you wanna go by with the lady demons like last post) would still insist on being childish and trying to run away again.

-She'll be impressed you made it as far as you did but be weary of sudden doors whisking you back home to an annoyed demon 'wife' again.

GYUTARO (+PLATONIC UME/DAKI):

-You could've simply gotten away if you had boarded the train with your soon-to-be husband and never saw either demon again as they never left the Red Light District.

-Good luck escaping Daki's belt and the underground home they keep you in. You're too scared to fight back so you remain casual and polite out of fear (and to try and think of a way to escape).

-It won't be easy. They take turns in rotation. Daki loves dressing you up and chatting with her like always like nothing changed. Gyutaro will hold you to himself and feel relieved just having your warmth against him. If they aren't around then Daki has her talking belt minion guard you or she puts you in a belt for a while. It's rare for all three of them to be busy at once but it has happened more than one time. They don't think you can escape the hole in the ground anyways.

-Well you do. One day while they were all busy. Clawing your way through one of those thin tunnels until you reach the surface freed. You're alive. Dirty, a little thin, and scared out of your mind. But alive and free for now. You better get out of the E District because of you do stick around they'll catch you sooner or later.

-Both have a similar reaction when they come home and discovered you gone. Daki throws a massive half tantrum half crying fit. She tears her talking belt minion to shreds blaming it for your escape. It's ok. She'll make a better one later when she calms down but right now she'll cry and throw a fit while demanding her hyperventilating brother fix this as he usually does.

-Gyutaro has a similar reaction to a emotional Douma. He'll tear apart your underground home, and when he can't find you he'll fall into a hyperventilating mess of emotions. He's absolutely pissed off. That's his default emotion after all so it's his first reaction but he'll start falling into a mess of tears and crying as realization jabs into him. He knew he was ugly. He's so ugly even a practically blind girl would eventually run away from him. He's a blubbering crying mess like his sister for a while until both are calmed down enough to think with clear heads.

-Hope you were able to make it to that train because you don't have just one but TWO demons coming after you.

GYOKKO:

-Possibly the second easiest one to escape from. All ya have to do is yeet his pot off a cliff side or something but the problem is he'll quickly teleport back to you angry in another pot.

-Your best bet is to use flattery and his own ego against him and to your advantage. Tell him how honored you were to receive such beautiful pots from him. Listen to him sing his own praises. His guard will lower as you both talk to each other about his pots, art techniques you both use, and anything else involving art or himself in some way. Honestly if he wasn't a demon and kidnapped you, you probably wouldn't have minded the conversations.

-Play along as his little mise. Holding still as he carved your likeness into a vase or allow him to watch as you shakily work a needle and thread too closely. Eventually his guard will be down enough for you to escape.

-While he's not sun proof his pots are. While he's gone, turn the pot he uses to get inside your home upside down and place the heaviest object you can on it to help delay his entrance as you run into the daylight.

-Oh he'll be furious and throw a fit about you leaving and how you treated his precious vase, but he's more preoccupied by the fact that his precious muse has vanished into the wind. Luckily for you, he's the easiest demon to hide from. Just stay away from vases and any art studios for a long while. He's sure to be close by looking for you.

KAIGAKU:

-All I can say is good luck. While Kaigaku isn't the brightest, strongest, or emotionally adept demon he's definitely not someone you can easily trick or escape from. You can't get more than a few yards away at most before he notices you walking away from his distracted form and barks a demand for you to return to him immediately!

-Doesn't help he also keeps you in the Infinity Castle where lots of demons watch you with hunger. They only don't eat you because you're around Kaigaku's side at all times and no one wants to tussle with Upper Moon Six, especially if it was Kokushibo who brought him in. Kaigaku is smug about having you always paraded around on his arms.

-You have to use the same tactic for him as you did Gyokko. Compliment him subtly and every once and a while. Keep it casual however. Doing it too much with cause him to get suspicious and catch onto your plan. However a compliment here and there that sounds like a genuine observation will boost his ego and slowly but surely let his guard little by little down around you. To the point he leaves you in a room he marked as his own when training with Kokushibo.

-He's absolutely terribly shocked and PISSED when he discovers you gone and later learns that you had taken Nakime off guard by diving into an open doorway as she wasn't looking. Oh now he's not just pissed, he's ENRAGED!! You'd better run, run, run. Because as soon as the sun goes down a cursing black rage filled shadow is hunting you down even if it takes him all eternity.

HAIROU:

-(again couldn't find a gif of him) Outta all the lower moons Hairou would be the hardest to escape from. Not only can he teleport using shadows, but he has guns, and summoned shadow wolves on his side.

-He can get overwhelmed by his emotions and have a panic attack from the PTSD and end up shooting himself. That would be the ideal time to flea, when he's too overwhelmed by emotions to really take in his surroundings and know what's going on. You have to be quick though because he can recover pretty quickly after the gunshot.

-If you're somehow able to escape from him some other way he's having the worst panic attack of both his human and demon existence. It'll take him all night and many rounds of ammo before he's actually able to get his head together enough to really get a hand on the situation.

-You must get creative as you run however. He'll track you down using his shadow wolves like a pack stalking down a deer.

HANTENGU (+ CLONES):

-Hes actually the easiest Upper Moon to escape from. It's just a matter of timing and how you execute it is all.

-You're best bet is to use his own delusions against him and do your plan when he's by himself without any clones present to stop you. Act sweet to him. Tell him you're glad you're 'husband' is home and that you were going to run out and grab him something to make for dinner and to just make himself comfortable. He's so delusional and thinks you're just being a sweet 'wife'(nevermind you two aren't married) that he believes everything you say.

-Wont even put up a fuss as you smile casually and wave at him before walking out the door on your way to town to 'buy ingredients' only you skip right past the town and you don't walk you freaking RUN!! Run, run, run as fast and as far as you can before he realizes that you aren't coming back.

-He's so delicious that he doesn't suspect anything. In fact he takes a nap and wonders about the house for hours waiting for you when you don't show up once it's night time is when he knows somethings up. He doesn't believe you ran away however. No. To the day he died Hantengu believes his poor wife was abducted by another demon or slayer.

-Hope youre far away because he's ripping himself apart and sending his clones out to search for their poor 'wife.'

SEKIDO:

-He may not look it but he's very concerned about their 'wife.' He doesn't know what happened to you and he doesn't care. He wants you back and he wants you back NOW!!

-First thing he does is yell at Hantengu for twenty minutes about stupid he was to let you go by yourself all defenseless and weak. Next he's ripping up himself and Karaku to get the others and ordering them in the scariest most threatening tone ever to get out there and FIND YOU! Even if it was the last thing they did.

AIZETSU:

-Crying, blubbering mess. He knows you weren't happy with them but did you have to run away? Did they do something wrong? No. It must be because something awful happened to you because they weren't there. You'd never run away from them!

-Most emotional outwardly and on the verge of an anxiety attack the entire time they're looking for you. Once they find you(if they do) he's holding onto you and sobbing into your dress about how sorry he is.

UROGI:

-Man is molting in anxiety. He's making panicked turkey noises while he's looking for you. He thinks it's a game at first thinking you're just playing chase but when it becomes clear you're actually GONE he's running around like a headless chicken panicking.

-The most likely to spot you from up above so be sure to stick close to trees and outta sight because if not then you'll find yourself swooped up by a freaked out harpy and flown back to the others...that is if KFC man finds you at all.

KARAKU:

-Is surprisingly the only one that's thinking clearly. He's the clone of Relaxation so he's going to be the calmest one in this situation. But he's still panicked and scared like the others desperately searching for you.

-In a moment of arguing the others blame him for you possibly running away with how he always acts towards you. He has six other clones yelling at his face making him feel very guilty and wonders if it was his fault. He promises to make it up to you and never do it again once they find you. IF they find you.

ZOHAKUTAN:

-THE most likely to find you. He comes out in a last resort when Hantengu and the five other clones are unable to find you. Forces Sekido to absorb the others and let him take over searching with his wood dragons. He can just take shelter and continue looking for you during the daytime with them too.

-Eliminates any and all obstacles in his path until he finds you and entraps you in the mouth of one of his dragons before dragging you back home to everyone's relief. Be prepared for an earful and to be under close observation for the rest of his time alive because Zohakutan will be coming out more often after this.

URAMI:

-Very resentful that Hantengu was dumb enough to let you wonder off by yourself and like Sekido he'll spend a few minutes yelling at him for it too before joining in on yelling at Kataku and going to search for you.

-Be prepared for him to be out a lot more now too to guard you and make sure you don't try anything like this again.

KYOGAI:

-Like Nakime it's going to be nearly impossible for you to escape someone that can teleport to you and shift the mansion around to keep you from escaping. You're best bet is to crawl or jump out the nearest window at the first opportunity.

-Kyogai can't go far from his mansion because that's where most of his power lies so your best chance of truly getting away from him is so flee as far from the mansion as possible. Depending on if it's night or how hurt you are from jumping out the window he might catch up to you.

-He's not the worst demon to be trapped with but his desperation for genuine connection makes him certainly very possessive and he isn't willing to let you go that easy.

ENMU:

-How did you manage to get out of the personal train car he locked you in? He's literally a part of the train and can control how much freedom you have.

-Turns out insomnia is one helluva drug.

-Enmu is not easily fooled. He will not be fooled by flattery, tricks, or challenges. And you're certainly not as strong as him. The best bet is the element of surprise. Pretend you're having one of your naps. He'll sometimes forget your body doesn't work with sleep like a regular person, so when you suddenly tackle him out of the way as soon as he opens the door, he's taken off guard. Take this chance and RUN!!

-Stay away from train stations and trains. You'll probably be able to avoid him as his main body is literally infused with a train. I'm fact stay away from train tracks and towns with stations all together. You never know if a train whistle is just Enmu around the corner.