#don't worry the situation's already under control
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okay, I can cross "vomiting blood" off the Cdrama experience bucket list
#eddie's posts#emetophobia tw#yes I'm aware that vomiting blood is a sign of serious problems#don't worry the situation's already under control#it did make me look and feel pathetic but unfortunately it was not in an attractive way#we can't all be Yu Sifeng from Love and Redemption#it was more of a Harrowhark Nonagesimus moment tbh. humbling to have a human body kinda moment.
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moth to a flame
bucky barnes x reader / winter soldier x reader
"I know you. even when I know nothing else, even when I don't know myself, I know you."
word count: 4.9k
summary: bucky is triggered into the winter soldier during a mission and then goes MIA, until he seeks you out in the middle of the night.
warnings/tags: SMUT, canon divergence (bucky hasn't been successfully deprogrammed in this), kind of dub-con, language, some violence, reader is afab, no use of y/n, friends with benefits situation, angst with a happy ending, 18+ only
“You've reached Bucky. I can't answer the phone right now but leave me a mess–”
You hang up before the voicemail recording finishes. You already knew he wasn't going to answer, just as he hasn't answered any of the other thirty-something times you've dialed his number over the course of the last few days. Or read any of the two dozen text messages.
The messages had stopped delivering and the calls had started going straight to voicemail almost two days ago at this point. And yet you still got your hopes up every time you checked your phone, only to be met with gut-wrenching, nauseating disappointment.
It had now been three days of this - not to mention picking your cuticles until they bleed, flipping back and forth between every news station on your TV in hopes (and fear) of seeing his name, a few collective hours of sleep each night, and too much Red Bull.
Just when you were thinking about trying to kick your caffeine addiction, too.
Three days of feeling completely and utterly helpless.
You place the phone back down on your coffee table, staring down at the thick, white cast encasing your left leg from your foot to just under your knee.
Useless.
You knew you were doing what you physically could - the spread of laptops and tablets on the table in front of you continuously supplying data from facial recognition programs across the United States.
Realistically, you knew he could be on the other side of the world by now, but that didn't stop you from checking. It was the only thing that you felt you had any control over right now.
But it wasn't enough. Not when Steve, Sam, Natasha, Sharon, and every other currently able-bodied team member are out scouring every safehouse and known former HYDRA base in the tri-state area while you're holed up in your apartment with a fractured fibula and a brain that won't let you stop reliving the moments before he went missing.
“This is as straightforward as it gets,” Steve re-assures you both for what felt like the dozenth time that day. “You'll be in and out in no time.”
“So straight-forward that you're going to hang back here while we do all the dirty work?” You joke as you make the final adjustments to your parachute.
“We've been monitoring this base for months,” he reminds you. “This place is as abandoned as they come. Get in, get the intel from the database, and get back to the jet.”
“And then blow the place to smithereens,” Bucky adds with a devious grin.
“And then blow the place to smithereens,” Steve agrees.
If only things had been as simple as he had expected.
You had a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach from the moment that you and Bucky landed on the ground outside of the HYDRA base. You told yourself that you were being irrational - but you couldn't shake the looming feeling that something was going to go wrong.
“See?” Bucky says after removing the USB drive from the computer. He sticks the device in the breast pocket of his tactical vest before edging you towards the desk. “Easy-peasy. You've been worried for nothing.”
“I have not been worried,” you deny, leaning against the edge of the desk. “This place is just old, and smelly, and creepy.”
Bucky takes a step closer to you so that there's no space left between you. He places his hands on the desk on either side of you, enclosing you.
“You think that I can't tell when you're nervous?” He says quietly, studying your face. You can smell a lingering hint of cool mint from his mouthwash. “That I haven't spent enough time learning your body to read you like an open book?”
Your thighs clench together and your nipples pebble at his words. You're almost embarrassed at how easily his voice, his scent, his closeness elicits a physical response from your body. Almost.
“What I think,” you murmur against his mouth. His hands come to grip your hips as he nudges your thighs open, standing between your legs. “Is you're crazy if you're thinking about trying to fuck me in an abandoned HYDRA warehouse.”
He exhales a dramatic sigh. “You can't blame me for trying.”
“I am relieved to know that you'd even want to do that here,” you say, hopping down from where you're perched on the desk. “I really think that shows you've processed your trauma–”
You're cut off by the room going completely dark. Every light, every computer, turns to black.
Bucky's flesh hand instinctively reaches to grab your wrist in the dark, tugging you to him.
“What the fuck,” he groans under his breath.
“We need to get out of–” you start to state the obvious but close your mouth when the computer that you and Bucky had retrieved the data from turns back on.
And then a computer to the right - and then across the room - and another to the right - and one to left - until every computer is on and showing the exact same screen. Bucky's hand grips yours so tightly that it borders on being painful.
Displayed on dozens of screens throughout the room is the face of a man. A man who you've never met, but recognize immediately.
“Zola,” Bucky whispers almost inaudibly.
“Sergeant Barnes,” Zola addresses him with a perverted smile. “Welcome home,” his voice pours from every computer speaker throughout the room and echoes off the walls.
“Steve?” You whisper urgently, clicking on the communication device hidden in your ear. “Steve, we've got a prob–”
“There's no use in that,” Zola interrupts you. “It's too late. They're almost here.”
The following sixty seconds were a jumbled blur that you were still trying to piece together in your mind.
You remember hearing the stream of words spoken in Russian.
Longing. Rusted. Seventeen.
You remember Bucky screaming at you to run, the sound of Steve's voice in your ear telling you that back-up was on the way and asking a dozen questions that you were too overwhelmed to respond to.
Daybreak. Furnace. Nine.
You remember begging Steve to hurry. You remember pleading with Bucky to come with you to try to get away; pleading with him to just look at you, just stay with you, help is coming -
Benign. Homecoming. One.
You remember the moment that Bucky went completely still as the room was infiltrated by HYDRA agents.
Freight car.
You knew that Bucky wasn't there anymore. You could sense it in his stance, in the way he wouldn't meet your eyes, in his silence.
Before you could say anything else to him, close to a dozen HYDRA agents came barreling towards you both. He charged through them, taking down one after the next with ease, until there were just a few left standing.
It was a side of Bucky you'd never seen. You thought that you had witnessed his strength, his agility, his determination, his ruthlessness working beside him in this field - but you then saw just how much he had been holding back.
He fled past the remaining few, out the door and down the hallway of the warehouse. The agents turned to follow him, forgetting about you - until you threw a knife directly into one's neck from behind.
Another agent shot at you, the blow hitting your bulletproof vest and sending you flying backwards onto hard cement.
Before you could catch your breath, there was a sharp cracking noise and a blinding pain radiating from your lower leg - but it was short lived.
The last thing you recall is the man's boot swinging towards your face.
You woke up some number of hours later, in a hospital bed with your temple throbbing and leg elevated in a cast.
“Hey,” a soft voice calls from your right. Natasha stands up from the singular chair in the room, both concern and relief evident across her features. “You're okay,” she begins to assure you. “You have a concussion and a fractured–”
“Where's Bucky?” You interrupt her, your voice scratchy. You clear your throat. “Is he okay? Did Steve find him? Did HYDRA get–”
“HYDRA didn't get him. Steve took care of the last of the agents after him,” she stops you from rambling. There's an immediate sense of relief wash over you.
“But we haven't found him yet,” she adds carefully. “Everyone is out searching for him now. You know we won't stop until–”
A gentle knock on your apartment door snaps you back to reality.
You freeze, your heart jumping to your throat. You stand as quickly as you can manage, grabbing your crutches propped up next to you on the couch.
“It's just me,” a feminine voice calls from the other side of the door. Your heart goes from your throat to your stomach. Not him.
“I'm sorry, I should have text you first,” Natasha continues. “But I brought you food. Street tacos from–”
You turn the deadbolt and unhook the chain lock before swinging the door open.
“You look–”
“Like hammered shit?” You finish for her, nodding your head towards the inside of the apartment as indication for her to come in.
“I was going to say exhausted,” she says, walking past you with a large paper sack of take-out food. Your stomach growls at the aroma - when was the last time you ate something more than a bowl of cereal or granola bar?
“Your favorite,” she tells you, placing the bag on the kitchen counter. “Extra salsa verde and lime wedges. Have you gotten any sleep recently?” Her eyes skim across the empty energy drink cans littered around the kitchen.
You maneuver yourself onto one of the barstools at the kitchen's small island, leaning your crutches on the edge of the counter.
“Yes,” you mumble. “For forty-five minutes from 2:30 to 3:15 today.”
She lets out a long groan, rolling her eyes at you.
“You're supposed to be healing from a concussion,” she reminds you, taking a seat for herself. “Which generally doesn't include sleep deprivation and excessive use of computer screens.” She stares in the direction of the array of laptops that overcrowd the limited space of your coffee table.
“Did you find anything in Connecticut? What about Sam, is he back from New Jersey?” You ask, ignoring her concerns as you unbox your food.
“Connecticut was a dead-end,” she sighs. “We're still waiting to hear back from Sam. There's a safehouse up in Vermont that Steve wants to head to tomorrow–”
“You don't think there's a chance of him letting me tag along for that, do you?” You tap the edge of your cast against the base of the island with your foot.
Her eyes soften as she looks at you. You already knew the answer.
“I know this is really hard for you,” she says delicately. “I may not know exactly what has been going on between you and Barnes these last few months, but it's obvious you care a lot for him. We all do. We are going to find him and bring him home,” she assures you.
You nod at her in agreement, not quite trusting your voice enough to speak.
Your eyes sting as you attempt to blink away the tears that threaten to spill over. You had yet to allow yourself to spend any time crying these last few days and you didn't wish to start now.
Her words remind you that no one knows exactly why you are taking Bucky's disappearance so harshly. You assume that your friends have their suspicions about your and Bucky's arrangement but the two of you had agreed to keep it between yourselves.
They didn't know it had started off being a weekly occurrence - late Sunday evenings, your apartment. Or how it had quickly escalated from once a week to twice, and then from two times a week to three - and instead of just your apartment, it would happen anywhere the two of you had a private (and sometimes public) moment - up against the wall of the communal showers at the compound's gym, in the back of the Quinjet after missions while everyone else would be sleeping on the flight back home, even during team meetings with his hand creeping between your thighs while you try to stay quiet enough to not draw any attention to yourselves.
They didn't know you were supposed to be friends with benefits but that at some point during the days and nights spent underneath one another, the line between friends and something more became blurry for you.
You had just been too chickenshit to tell him.
Natasha sits across from you as you inhale the Mexican food that she brought you. She doesn't say anything else, just keeps you company in a comfortable silence as you eat your first legitimate meal in days.
“Thank you,” you tell her as you're finishing your food. “I appreciate you. I've been going a little crazy here by myself,” you add meekly.
“Of course.” She stands back up. “I would stay longer, but I've got to prepare for Vermont. We're leaving early in the morning.”
“Be safe. All of you,” you remind her. “Let me know if you guys find anything. Just tell me if there's anything at all I can do. And please let me know when you hear from Sam–”
“You'll be the first to know when there's anything to know,” she assures you gently.
“Thanks, Nat.”
“You just try to get some rest, okay?” She requests as she walks toward the door. “Maybe drink some water, possibly consider taking a nice, long shower…”
“Goodbye, Natasha.”
She's chuckling as she closes the door behind her.
You lower your nose to your armpit as soon as the door clicks shut, inhaling.
Maybe she makes a valid point about showering.
Half an hour later, there's a heavy rain beating against the windows of your apartment when you finish bathing. You secure a towel around your chest before yanking off the garbage bag that you had wrapped around your cast well enough for you to rinse off.
Belly full and body clean, you felt somewhat better; at least physically.
You listen to the rain pound down as you sit on the edge of the bathtub, massaging lotion into your skin, and wonder where Bucky is right now - if he's safe, if it's raining wherever he's at, if he's somewhere dry -
You come to a sudden halt in the middle of brushing your teeth. It's hard to tell over the deafening roar of the rain and your bathroom fan, but you could have sworn you heard the creaking of a door or window from your living room.
I double checked the door locks after Nat left, you rationalize to yourself. This apartment is on the fourth floor, no one is going to climb the fire escapes to–
There's an unmistakable shadow visible through the crack at the bottom of the bathroom door. It's gone as quickly as it appears.
Shit. You start to panic as you realize you left your cell phone in the kitchen. As quietly as you can, you look around the small room for something to defend yourself with. A hair dryer, dental floss, a few week’s worth of dirty laundry..
You hear the creaking of floorboards as footsteps seem to creep closer and closer to the bathroom door.
Crutches. You have two crutches. You can clobber them with your crutches.
“I can hear you,” you call to whoever is just beyond the door. “I know you’re out there.”
Silence. No hint of any further movement.
You place one crutch under your left armpit for support, keeping the other one ready to wield as a weapon. “You have ten seconds to get out of my apartment,” you say a bit louder, willing your voice not to waver. “I have a weapon.”
Yeah, a weapon. If you can call it that.
Ten seconds come and go, followed by another ten seconds.
You weren’t going to let someone play this game with you in your own home.
Taking one last deep breath and tightening your grip on the defense crutch, you sling the bathroom door open quickly.
“Oh my god,” you exclaim, immediately relaxing your weight against the crutches, releasing the death grip that you had on your uninjured side.
It’s dark in your bedroom save for a few pale orange string lights hung around your bed frame and the light that spills in from the bathroom, but you would recognize his broad frame anywhere.
“Thank fuck you’re okay,” you exhale, swinging yourself over to where he stands at the foot of your bed. When you’re a little over a foot away from him, you realize he’s sopping wet - his hair dripping water droplets and his skin dewy. His clothing, the same clothing that you last saw him in three days ago, clings to his body like a second skin.
He remains still as a statue, and as silent as one.
“Are you okay?” You ask him apprehensively. You give him a once over, from head to toe. You don't see any noticeable injuries, but he is trembling.
“Bucky?” You ask in a small voice.
His lips are set in a hard line. He doesn't answer, just stares at you. Stares at you like he’s trying to figure out why he’s here.
Stares at you like he’s trying to decide if he knows you or not.
The immense relief that you had felt at knowing he's alive is washed away by a sinking feeling.
His eyes trail from your face and slowly down your towel-clad body. He pauses when he gets to your foot, glancing back and forth from your cast to the crutches on either side. His brows furrow together - almost like he's in pain.
“I'm okay,” you assure him in a shaky voice. “It's just a fracture,” you explain. “I'll be healed in no time.”
You notice that his features relax a bit at your words - just enough to give you hope that Bucky, your Bucky, is in there and he's listening to you.
Do whatever you have to do to keep him here. Don't let him out of your sight. Help him remember who he is, your inner monologue screams at you. Just don't let him run away again.
“Are you cold?” You ask him. You're not necessarily expecting him to answer, you're just trying to put him at ease. “How about we get you some dry clothes?” You add, nodding towards his drenched henley.
You retreat into the bathroom, grabbing a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that he'd left over the last time he had stayed the night - the night before he went missing. They were at the top of the laundry basket - maybe not the cleanest, but better that the wet, dirty clothing he's in currently.
You limp your way back over to where he stands at your bed, leaning against the mattress for support. You set your crutches down and hand him the shirt and pants, which he hesitantly accepts. He makes no move to remove the wet clothes from his body, instead gently places the dry clothes onto the mattress beside him.
“Would you like some help?” you offer cautiously, terrified of doing anything that could cause him to run. You slowly reach towards the clothing that he had just placed on the bed, but he stops you before you can pick the t-shirt back up - grasping your wrist in his vibranium hand.
You can’t stop the small gasp that escapes past your lips. His hold on you is firm, but not painful. You could rip your hand from him if you wanted to - but you don’t.
Instead, you let him hold your hand as he begins to rub his metal thumb in a circular motion next to yours. You’re frozen; watching him carefully as he examines the movements his metal digit makes on your skin.
The goosebumps that appear in the wake of his touch don’t go unnoticed by him. His eyes trail from where his hand holds yours and up the expanse of your arm, until they land on your exposed neck. The towel covering your midsection has started to come loose, hanging low enough to reveal the top of your breasts.
He drops your hand, taking a step closer to you. You have to remind yourself to breathe - your Bucky is in there. Your Bucky, who is gentle, and soft, and would never do anything to cause you harm.
You have to trust that.
He brings his vibranium fingers up to the edge of the towel, trailing them across the mounds of your breasts. Your nipples harden right away, visible through the thin material of the towel.
You would let this play out however he wants it to. However he needs it to.
When his index finger stops where the towel is tucked into itself at your side, you forget how to breathe. He pauses for a split-second before unhooking the cloth and letting it fall to your feet.
He drinks in the sight of you bare before him, his jaw clenched and pupils dilated.
Dozens of times he has seen you like this, and never have you felt so completely vulnerable under his gaze.
And still there's a slickness gathering at the apex of your thighs.
He brings his flesh hand to your waist, putting the faintest bit of pressure against your skin. You close your eyes at the sensation - he's barely fucking touching you and you could melt into him.
Your name falls off of his lips - it's barely even a whisper, nearly inaudible but unmistakable. Your name. He remembers your name.
“Bucky,” your voice cracks when you whisper his own name back to him. His eyes snap up to yours, a mix of realization and hesitation brewing in them.
You bring both of your hands to the tail of his wet shirt, giving him time to pull away before you start to tug the shirt upwards. He doesn't stop you - in fact, he raises his own arms to help you tug the soaked fabric off of him. You toss the shirt in the general direction of your bathroom.
You didn't think there would ever come a time that the sight of him getting naked for you wouldn't make you want to drool.
You unsnap the button of his tactical pants, keeping your eyes on his face the whole time, hyper-analyzing his expression for any sign of reluctance.
You dip your fingers past the waistband of his boxers, his eyes fluttering closed as your hand travels lower.
He's already fully hard as you hold him, stroking him as best you can from inside the confines of his underwear and pants. You pump him in your hand and his head rolls back so that he's looking up at your ceiling.
Fuck, it takes all the restraint you possess to resist leaning forward and sucking on his neck.
Another time, you tell yourself, anxious about overwhelming him.
He curses under his breath - something in Russian that you don't recognize but the expression on his face indicates it to be a praise. There's a shift in his initially reserved, unsure demeanor when you begin to pump him faster.
His head snaps back down, his eyes raking up and down your body once more before he brings his hands to your lower back, maneuvering you against the bed.
You scoot until your back comes in contact with the cool satin of your pillows, relaxing into the bedding. At last Bucky begins to shed the layers of wet clothing covering his lower half, not taking his eyes off of your body as he removes his boots, followed by his pants and boxers.
He kneels on the mattress, crawling above where you lay. You want nothing more than to grab him by the shoulders and pull his mouth to yours, but you are going to let him call the shots.
He nudges your thighs apart with his knee, nestling himself between your legs. He grasps your breast in his vibranium hand, giving it a firm squeeze before rolling your nipple between his icy fingers.
He lowers himself so that he's belly down on your mattress, his face inches away from your pussy. He removes his hand from your breast and you let out a small whimper of disappointment at the abrupt lack of sensation. He uses that same hand to hike your uninjured leg over his shoulder, securing his head between the soft interior of your thighs.
He kisses you, starting at your belly button and working his way to your center. His lips feel like fire against your skin. You keep your hips planted firmly on the bed, fighting the urge to thrust your pussy up to his face.
“Please,” you whine. “Bucky, please.” You swear you can see the faintest trace of a smirk that looks so undeniably Bucky.
You clench your thighs around his face and he lets out a low, guttural groan as his mouth makes contact with you.
Normally, Bucky closes his eyes while he's going down on you - gets completely lost in it. Right now, his eyes are wide open - making sure he doesn't miss the way your mouth gapes when he rolls his tongue around your clit and the way your chest heaves when he nudges his tongue inside you.
You don't know which you find hotter.
You can already feel the tightening of a coil in your lower belly, making it impossible to resist rolling your hips to meet the torturous pace he's set with his tongue. You grind against his face, the thin layer of stubble that's grown across his jaw since you last saw him scratching against the sensitive flesh around your cunt.
You're approaching your climax when he pulls away, making you mewl at the loss of contact. His face glistens with your slick.
He flips you onto your side, placing you on your left side so that your injured leg rests against the mattress. You prop your head up with your hand as he slides in behind you.
His chest presses against your back, the heat of his body warming you all over. His flesh hand juts between your thighs, raising your right leg high enough for him to slap his cock against your pussy.
He strokes himself in his hand while he teases your folds - lubricating himself with your juices.
You turn your head to look at him right as he sheaths himself inside you, filling you entirely in one swift motion.
Fuck, you have to taste yourself on him. You can't handle not having his mouth on yours for another second.
You tilt your head back enough to connect your mouth to his - every worry you once had about coming on too strong and overwhelming him melts away as he opens his mouth for you, moving his lips against yours in an effortless rhythm.
He starts slow, quickly working up to a rapid pace as he repeatedly slams into your cervix from the sweetest angle. The sounds that you're making for him are pornographic - moaning into his mouth as his flesh hand comes around your front, landing on your engorged clitoris. He rubs languid circles while he continues to pound into you from behind.
You pull your lips away from his when you feel your orgasm building. “You always make me feel so good, you know that?” You ask him breathily, your mouth now right next to his ear.
“Every time you fuck me, I'm more sure that no one could ever compare to you. You've ruined me for everyone else. There’s only you for me.”
“Fuck,” he curses and groans your name again - it's the closest he's sounded to his normal self, which only spurs you on.
“I’ve become so fucking addicted to you in such a short amount of time,” you say in between moans as the head of his cock hits your sweet spot just right. “Think about you anytime you're not near me, drives me fucking crazy.”
He flips you - doesn't pull out - so that you're now underneath him. He goes right back to the same brutal pace, bringing his flesh hand to cradle your face as he stares down at you.
Clarity - you recognize it plain as day on his features.
He gives you a few more fast, hard thrusts before you're milking his cock through your orgasm. You crash your lips to his and he's coming - filling you up with his warm seed as he kisses you senseless.
He gradually stills inside you, his body going limp on top of yours as he rests his face in the crook of your neck. You wrap your arms around him, peppering kisses across his scarred shoulder, where flesh meets metal.
“I'm so sorry if I scared you,” he murmurs against the sweat-slicked skin of your throat after a moment. “I wasn't myself. Not even entirely sure how I ended up here - it's like I was pulled in this direction - to you,” he sighs.
You're overcome with such an immense relief at hearing him speak that you could cry. You tighten your hold around him, rubbing your hands up and down his back.
“You could never scare me, Bucky,” you assure him. He pulls out of you, rolling off of you onto the bed beside you and tugging you to his chest. Your cheek rests just over his heart.
"I know you. Even when I know nothing else, even when I don't know myself, I know you."
♡♡♡♡♡
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thanks for reading! as always comments and reblogs are extremely appreciated!
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky x you#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes one-shot#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction
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Male pillars x Reader - Comfort
request: the male pillars reactions towards a s/o that feels insecure about their rank as a hashira
pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Muichiro x reader, Gyomei x reader
content warning: suggestiveness (Obanai, Sanemi)
Tengen:
the pillar meeting, it would start in an hour and you didn't feel ready. everyone in the corps knew the rules, pillars get ranked upon achieving one of two things: behead one of the demon moons or atleast fifty demons.
so why didn't you feel ready? you've fought, since you've joined the demon slayers about two years ago, you've slayed a total of 76 demons. what now? this didn't feel right.
you couldn't stand next to the bravest swordsman between all of you. they were different, they've looked into the eyes of death. you knew, your husband was one of them after all.
perhaps you should quit, tell master Kagaya that you weren't ready, weren't deserving of such a high rank. the insecurities took over your mind, not even noticing how your husband entered the room.
"what's up with that face? ya gotta be more flamboyant, baby!" he encouraged, walking up to you. he sat down next to you, the bed sinking under his weight. "..baby?"
"this doesn't feel right.." you eventually said, his eyes widening slightly. he already knew about your insecurities, you had told him about them, but he didn't want to acknowledge it.
"i know. it doesn't. maybe it never will, but that's something you have to accept." he answered, suddenly appearing more serious than usual. he didn't mantain his "flashy" demeanor during serious topics - he never did.
"did it ever feel right to go outside and possibly sign your death sentence?" he joked, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer to his side. head leaning against his shoulder, he looked down at you.
"i know that you deserve this place. you don't need to worry over it as long as I'm by your side.." he said, his voice having turned more gentle. you gave him a small smile, nodding lightly.
"let's go, i'll help you through it." he told you, standing up and holding a hand out. you took it. he was right, it didn't feel as bad when he was with you.
Obanai:
"stop saying that." he scolded you, not accepting the way you were belittling yourself. you had looked stressed since this morning, now slowly starting to make him worry.
when he asked what's wrong, he was shocked to hear you talk upsetting about yourself. you sounded completely discouraged.
"your opinion doesn't make sense. i know you're the right person for this." he said, watching you sit down on the bed.
"Obanai, listen.." you tried voicing your insecurities, only to feel your breath hitch. he had taken his mask off, standing right in front of you. feeling him press a kiss against your lips, your eyes widened.
"i will show you how serious i am about this." he claimed, hands coming to your waist. truthfully, he typically wasn't the one taking control in these situations, your heartbeat picking up with how serious he sounded.
Rengoku:
small tears gathered at the corner of your eyes, trying to stop them didn't help at all. you felt selfish, thinking of the sacrifices of the other hashira. would you be able to do as they did when it came down to it?
you've seen the scars on Sanemi's body long before you stepped into your place as a pillar. you've watched Muichiro train himself sick - what did you do? your thoughts got interrupted by a warm hand on your shoulder.
"Kyojuro! I.. I didn't see you there." you looked at him, head immediately turning away again. you didn't want him to see your tears, it would only hurt more.
"little flame! didn't you hear me? why are you crying?" he asked, confused upon finding you sulk in your bedroom. he gently turned you to face him, wiping the tears away. they wouldn't fall under his watch.
"what's wrong?" he tilted his head to the side, wanting to understand you. truthfully, he didn't understand what was going on, but he wanted to.
"i don't think I can do this.. all of you did amazing, fighting for the people you love. i'm not like that.." you admitted, brushing his hand off your shoulder, stepping away. he let you. he knew how important personal space could be.
"that's nothing i haven't seen you do already, little flame." he answered, trying to encourage you. he was glad you weren't crying anymore, but he couldn't stand seeing you so insecure either.
"but i can see it! or did you see me rupturing my eardrums to save others?" you spat back. you would regret your attitude later - he didn't deserve being treated this way, but right now you couldn't concentrate on that.
"little flame, don't compare yourself to me!" he answered, promptly pulling you into a hug. you were surprised by his actions, he normally only was this straightforward with words.
"besides, thinking of it now, damaging my own hearing wasn't the smartest idea!" he confirmed, yet his tone was enthusiastic, you felt yourself smile at his words. sometimes his tone didn't match his words.
he didn't know what exactly cheered you up, but he was happy he made you laugh.
Sanemi:
"you do know how weird your worries are after looking at me, right?" he had a challenging glint in his eyes. it was already clear for him, it didn't matter what you said, he would prove you wrong.
"you don't count, you're a marechi." you answered, looking away. his scars were different, they gave him an advantage. you received them for acting dumb and endangering yourself.
"do you think i'm doing this myself? never. every scar symbolizes were a demon has hit me before." he told you, your eyes widening.
"are you seriously worried about some scars." he asked you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer. he nearly sounded offended at the mere thought. "i like them. i don't see a problem with a few lousy scars."
"did this one make you feel that way?" he asked, nodding towards the scar on your arm. he kissed the scarred skin softly, his eyes staying on yours. "or this one?"
you felt your cheeks flushing, the man slowly finding every scar that was seen, determined to show his own kind of affection. he kissed over the scar on your collarbone, fingers unbuttoning your uniform.
"i'll show you how much i appreciate every single one of them."
Giyuu:
"i don't deserve this. i shouldn't have the right to stand next to you or the others.." you said, clearly in distress. he didn't say anything, staring at you.
your words felt too familiar, too reasonable. he understood your dilemma, he knew that it felt like an endless hole. that's why he remained silent and only listened.
you don't remember when you started talking - insecurities revealing themselves. he hadn't moved since then, his eyes focused on you.
after what seemed like forever, he moved for the first time, standing right in front of you. he would've liked to approach this from a logical perspective, tell you why you were perfect as a pillar.
yet he knew that logic wouldn't come through, that he needed to comfort you differently.
you went quiet, looking at the raven-haired man. before you knew it, you were caught in his embrace.
no words were exchanged and no more actions were initiated. you just stood there, accepting his warmth.
it was enough.
Muichiro:
"i told you to stop doubting yourself." his voice always sounded monotone when he wasn't happy about your behavior. you could feel it even now. he didn't agree with your earlier statement.
"that's easy for you to say, you're a prodigy." you countered, but your argument didn't reach him. he was set on his words. "you're only saying that because i'm your tsuguko."
"that has nothing to do with your title as my tsuguko." was the answer you received from him. he sounded serious, your eyes slowly searching for his.
"you're an exceptional fighter. if it wasn't for you, i would've already died in past missions." he claimed, your words dying down. you had much to say, but the certitude he showed made it hard to argue.
"will i be able to rely on your talent again?" he asked, grabbing your hand. he was serious, he believed in you. insecurities were nagging at the back of your mind, but you wanted answer - to agree.
"..yes." you answered quietly, feeling him gently pull you along. as long as he was there, you couldn't think of your insecurities, you had something to protect.
Gyomei:
the master's estate was quiet, at least his backyard made you think so. the pillars should meet in about 20 minutes, why was no one here? you knew they respected the master - everyone did.
you should've been promoted to a hashira in front of them, it wasn't easy to kill one of the lower moons after all. did they forget? ..or maybe they're not coming on purpose.
you barely survived your interaction with the lower moon, they must've done much more expressive things than you. what if they didn't accept your title?
"[name], are you listening?" Himejima asked, he had noticed you after hearing your quiet mumbles. when you didn't react, he crouched down right next to your sitting for form.
"no.. i don't think i can do this.." you admitted, looking away. he had seldom heard your voice so quiet, your confidence had seemingly vanished. he quietly placed a large hand on your back. "i'm not as good as you, i don't fit into this place."
"i don't think you understand. even the pillars have differences in their strengths." he told you, finally sitting down properly. you glanced up at him, he was much taller than you.
"we learn from our fight. even now we learn with every demon we slay." he encouraged, trying to make you see that there's no need for insecurities.
"let's not worry about this now. tell me how your last mission was." he asked, wanting to make you think of different things. you smiled softly, trying to remember the demon you've fought.
#kny#kimetsu no yaiba#kny x reader#demon slayer#demon slayer x reader#tengen uzui#tengen x reader#obanai iguro#obanai x reader#rengoku kyojuro#rengoku x reader#sanemi shinazugawa#sanemi x reader#giyuu tomioka#giyuu x reader#muichiro tokito#kny muichiro#gyomei himejima#gyomei x reader
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Masked Muscle
“Okay, now put it on” Chris threw the balaclava and the black t-shirt towards his boyfriend Jake, who was sitting on their bed.
“You’re sure about this?” He was clearly not sold on the idea of role play in the bedroom, but he agreed to do it anyway. He was surprised when Chris approached him earlier that day and asked if he’d be willing to dress up as a Russian thug because it really turned him on. But he decided to play along. And now Chris was standing next to him, a shit-eating grin on his face. He was enjoying himself already.
He watched as Jake took off his hoodie and tank top, then put on the t-shirt and face mask. Jake had a slim build, with muscles visible but not bulky, so the large t-shirt was looking kinda baggy on him.
"You sure you bought the right one? This looks like a skirt on me." Jake commented, but Chris wasn't really listening.
"Everything's fine, don't worry about it." He shrugged off his boyfriend's comments and waited for him to put on the balaclava. When he did he took a step closer.
"You look great, babe" He said, and saw Jake's eyebrows rise a bit, but he saw a glimpse of a smile under the face mask.
Then the fun started.
Chris took a step backward, as he saw that the process was beginning. Jake suddenly stopped moving, now standing still, and all his muscles started expanding. His shoulders and chest quickly filled out thew t-shirt, which now hugged his upper body tightly. His arms turned form sticks to beefy guns, with bulky biceps covered in veins. His slim stomach gets covered in muscle, same with his legs that turned into tree trunks.
The entire transformation lasted only a minute or so, and after was done Jake looked at Chris confused.
"Chris... Chris, babe, what... what happened?" He asked, his voice unsteady and anxious.
"Nothing you have to worry about, Jake. I'm just making sure you're prepared for your 'role play' later" He still has a smug smirk on his face, because he knew what was coming next.
Jake was hit with a sudden headache. A painful feeling, as if his brain was squeezed. He groaned and leaned against the wall, hoping it would pass quickly.
"Holy shit... uuuugh... blyat" he murmured to himself "Wait... blyat? Vat? I no speak... Nyet, vat is happen? Chris, vat is happen to me?"
Jake, now speaking with a heavy and thick Russian accent, turned towards Chris, his expression quickly shifting from surprise to aggression. But Chris didn't even flinch, he was in control of the situation the entire time.
"Stop whining, Sasha. You're not here to complain, you're here to obey!" When he called him 'Sasha', Jake's eyes glazed over for a moment and he froze. A few seconds later he was back, but it was not Jake.
"Da, boss. Sasha here to work and make dirty job for boss" He stood straight, almost like a soldier, and puffed out his chest, clearly wanting to show off his muscles. Chris was in heaven. He took a step closer.
"Yes, my loyal brute. You will do exactly as I say, without hesitation."
"Da, no hesitation, nyet. Only strong and obey you, boss" Sasha's voice was deeper that Jake's, he grunted more and was clearly struggling with English vocabulary.
"Oh yeah" Chris growled as he stood inches from Sasha, hunger in his eyes. "Flex for me, brute"
"Da, boss" Sasha nodded and lifted his arms into a double biceps pose. His muscles ballooned, with biceps the size of footballs.
"I strong muscle, boss use Sasha strong muscle" The Russian grunted as he flexed.
"Oh, I will use them, don't you worry" Chris drawled in response, ready to play.
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this is a difficult thing to have conversations about because it provokes really strong reactions in people for completely valid and understandable reasons, so please feel free to hit da bricks on this post whenever you want, but I do want to try and analyse the jonmartin slaps. we get three across 160, 169, and 172, and a line addressing it in 173, and then it never happens or comes up again. none of them come out of nowhere, and they mostly fly under the radar until 173 because they all broadly fit the "slapping someone out of a trance in an emergency" trope, but each of them slowly decreases in urgency.
the first time, the apocalypse starts up and martin comes back to find a passed out jon, can't wake him by making noise, and strikes him in a panic. this makes sense, this is a man who has entered a supernatural coma before and martin had no idea what was going on, so of course he'd jump to something desperate.
the second time, they're in a burning building, jude arrives while jon is still mid-statement, and when making noise doesn't work martin slaps him out of it. this makes sense, they were there for jude and if jon didn't come back to himself then she likely would have hurt them, though martin knew that her powers against them were limited.
the third time, jon is getting pulled into into a repeating statement instead of coming out on his own like usual, so martin speaks once or twice to try and get his attention, and then slaps him out of it. this... again, it makes sense, jon was getting trapped, but there was no immediate peril like before, martin just got freaked out and wanted to leave quickly. he seems to get that it was harsh because he apologizes for it, but they don't linger at all, martin just starts in on them having to leave immediately.
the last time it's mentioned is when they're on night street, during what is one of their most intense arguments. jon tries to talk about the suffering of the children there for longer than he needs to in order to make a point, martin cuts him off, and he pointedly says, "thank you for not hitting me this time." it never happens or is brought up again.
to our knowledge, jon doesn't say anything about the slapping until 173. he's not a guy who's known for speaking up when things upset him, he was amiably working with daisy within about a week of her trying to kill him, so it makes sense that he would just sit with this comparatively more minor thing. however, I do think it's relevant to note that, at this point in their relationship, martin will sometimes voice his feelings and boundaries (not listening to statements, not consenting to mind reading, worrying when jon expresses discomfort with his body), while jon doesn't. from the couple of times he does talk about his feelings this season, I think that tendency comes a few places: he has a hard time being aware of his emotions at all, he doesn't know how to evaluate his emotions' importance in comparison to others', he assumes his emotions are obvious and thus people already act with full knowledge of them, and the topic is just hard to make himself talk about. from what he says in 173, I think the slaps bothered him the entire time, but he made himself be fine with it until he was upset with martin for unrelated reasons and finally let it out.
as for martin's side, I do not think the slaps came from any kind of suppressed desire to hurt or wield power over jon. we've seen him when he's angry at jon, this isn't how he acts, he gets shouty and indignant but never violent. I'd even go as far as to say he doesn't do it in 173 because he's genuinely upset at jon and the situation they're in, and it would never occur to him to deliberately inflict pain on someone he cares about to assert control over them. the connecting line between all of them is fear from something that he wants jon to help him handle. the apocalypse starts, he is stuck inside one of his worst nightmares, and he's paranoid that the web took control of him. he's someone who is "always following, never leading" (170), and he gets tunnel vision when something scares him and his "leader" isn't there.
jon did need to be pulled out of all three of those situations, and words proved insufficient, and maybe a quick jolt of pain was the only thing that could have worked, but martin doesn't seem to consider what that would feel like from jon's pov. in my experience of relationships, if there's ever an unavoidable emergency where you do actually need to cross a line that you never would otherwise, you talk about it afterwards. you do a debrief where you say "I'm really sorry about that, I didn't see another way, I'll try and be better prepared next time." they do this for problems they have later on (177, 198), but martin doesn't do that here. jon's point-of-view just doesn't seem to occur to him. when jon expresses discomfort, he drops the tactic without a word; later, when he needs to anchor jon in the panopticon, he talks him through it before it can get too far. so, it's not about a lack of care for jon's feelings.
I think it comes down to a few things: a) his occasional tendency to treat people as a means to an ends and not think about their perspective. he's so glued to putting others first most of the time that when he stops, he can't find a middle ground and forgets that other people can have feelings about his actions. b) his problems with conceiving of himself as a person of any importance who is capable of doing anything, especially of doing harm. as a concept, "hurting jon" is the thing he would least like to do in the whole world, it is his nightmare scenario and literally the culminating moment of his tragedy. he finds it almost unthinkable, so the idea that he does it casually when he's scared doesn't cross his mind. one of his central worries at this point is that jon is now so powerful that he no longer needs martin, how could he hurt someone like that? he's not anywhere near a comparable level of importance, it's not like he has his own domain that he's not aware of because jon told him about it and he immediately rejected the information. he's powerless and could never bring himself to hurt the man he loves.
I just. think it's an interesting microcosm of some of the lows of their relationship. once the problem is discovered martin instantly takes the note and doesn't put it on jon to explain himself further or assuage his guilt, they are willing and able to adapt, but it still comes from some of their bedrock flaws. martin doesn't understand that he can hurt people, and jon has such an inflated understanding of his capacity to hurt people that it sabotages his self-worth and his ability to respond to pain and displeasure.
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── ୨୧ ! 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗩𝗘 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗗𝗜𝗘
𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader
SUMMARY: When Nick and Matt test positive for covid and Chris has to go into lockdown to prevent catching the virus, who will look after them?
WARNING: Covid-19, sickness.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Y/N sighed as she turned off her car, preparing herself for the long days ahead, not that it was a burden for her to take care of her boyfriend and best friends, almost brothers.
Matt and Nick tested positive for Covid-19 two days ago, and the first thing Chris did upon receiving their test results was send a quick text to Y/N saying that they both had the virus and that he and his brothers would have to be in lockdown for at least five days.
He sent many texts asking her to not worry, as his brothers' symptoms weren't much more than the flu, and that he was fine and would stay in his room so he wouldn't run the risk of catching the virus too, but who said she listened?
Y/N knew that Chris wouldn't have the patience to make healthy food at least three times a day for him and his brothers, and she knew how afraid he was of getting sick too. Y/N didn't have that worry, being a medical student and a resident at LA's main private hospital, she knew very well how to deal with all of this and wouldn't spare any energy when taking care of her family.
The girl was grateful that her boss had empathy and gave her a few days off work.
With that, Y/N prepared herself the day before, going to the nearest pharmacy to buy some boxes of covid tests and a new box of disposable masks, since the one she had at home was running low, and then went to Target, buying several healthy snacks, fruits, vegetables and chicken to make several soups and light food dishes, not intending to make anything heavy or fatty with fear of making the boys' situation worse.
Today, before leaving the house, Y/N prepared a backpack with a few extra changes of clothes, without overfilling it due to having more than enough of it at the triplets' house. Furthermore, she took a purse and put everything she would need: masks, tests, food and some medicines that are allowed during covid to alleviate some symptoms.
Before getting out of the driver's seat, Y/N grabbed the mask she had ready next to her, putting it on her face and finally getting out of the car. Y/N closed the door and opened the back seat, grabbing her backpack and purse, quickly locking the car and walking to the front door. The girl searched the pocket of her Fresh Love sweatpants, soon finding the spare key to her boyfriend's house.
After unlocking the door, she opened it carefully, not wanting to make too much noise, already knowing that one of the boys had a headache, if not all of them.
The girl walked to the kitchen and placed her things on the counter, before going back to the door to close and lock it.
Before Y/N started her first task, she walked to Chris's room, seeing the door closed. She knocked twice lightly, opening it slowly and seeing Chris under the covers staring at the ceiling, in the dark, with only the light from his TV illuminating the space, the girl held back a laugh knowing that her boyfriend was probably losing his mind for staying locked in his room alone for days.
Chris quickly raised his head with the sound, taking a few seconds to realize that Y/N was there, his eyes widening in surprise.
"Babe, what are you doing here?" He asked, getting up quickly and walking towards her, asking with his eyes if he could get closer and the girl rolled her eyes, nodding.
"I came to take care of you three idiots." She mumbled against the mask, closing her eyes momentarily as she felt Chris's arms around her, never wanting to let go.
"I told you not to worry, I had everything under control." Chris murmured, pulling away to look her in the eyes.
"Of course, so much so that you were lying there staring at the ceiling like it was the most interesting thing in the world." She let out a laugh when she heard Chris snort. "I'm sure you must be starving, when was the last time you ate some real food?" Y/N questioned, seeing Chris shrug.
"You talk as if I didn't show up at the hospital almost everyday with lunch for you." Chris snapped like a child, crossing his arms.
"Lunch that Nick made." She argued, laughing loudly when Chris huffed, frowning. "I'm kidding, baby, I love it when you show up at the hospital with lunch for me." Y/N said, approaching and planting a kiss on Chris's shoulder behind the mask.
"By the way, weren't you on duty today?" Chris asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he took his phone out of his hoodie pocket and double-clicked the screen, checking the date.
"I did, but I asked my boss for a few days off so I could take care of you and she gave it to me." Y/N said smiling big, and Chris couldn't help but smile back as he saw his girlfriend's eyes shrink from her happy expression, without being able to see her smile directly.
"Well, since you're already here, I think I'm a little hungry." Chris joked, running his hand over his belly and giving her a mischievous smile.
"Alright little kid, I'm going to cook you something and you're going to stay here in your room and look pretty." The girl said, pushing Chris lightly, blowing a kiss and closing the door behind her.
Y/N walked to the kitchen again, not containing her goofy smile.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
Y/N lifted the lid of the pan, taking the wooden spoon and quickly tasting the chicken soup (here in Brazil we call it canja, and it works miracles when you're sick, and it's delicious), letting out a sound of pleasure for the flavor. She turned off the heat, taking three plates from the cupboard and the spoon, distributing the soup on each of the plates, sprinkling some leek on top before taking three spoons and placing them inside the plates.
The girl took three glasses and added fresh orange juice, which she made minutes before, and took two pills of the only headache medicine allowed during the virus.
Y/N opened one of the cabinets and took three trays, placing them side by side on the counter and arranging on top of each one the plate of soup, the glass of juice and the medicine pill.
She quickly grabbed the first tray and walked carefully to Matt's bedroom door, bending down and placing the tray on the floor before knocking on the door three times.
"Matt?"
"Y/N? What are you doing here?" Y/N heard Matt's voice, feeling in his voice the pain the boy was feeling.
"I came to take care of you three, I made some soup and juice, they're in here." She replied, hearing the boy move around inside the room before walking away and returning to the kitchen, hearing the sound of the door opening and closing a few minutes later.
Y/N took the second tray and walked to Nick's room, hearing his voice behind the door, assuming he was on a call with someone or recording a video. The girl bent down and placed the tray on the floor again, knocking firmly on the door to make sure Nick heard.
"What are you doing outside your room, Chris?" Nick shouted from inside the room, making the girl laugh. "Y/N?!" He asked in surprise before quickly opening the door and Y/N applauded herself for wearing the mask. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be working?" Nick asked, holding the camera in one of his hands, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.
"I took a few days off to take care of you three. And I made real food!" Y/N repeated the same sentence for the thousandth time, pointing to the tray, smiling when she saw the taller's eyes light up.
The boy bent down, picking up the tray with one of his hands and straightening up, raising the camera again and smiling wide at the lens.
"Guys, Y/N brought food for us, the hungry ones. Everyone say "thank you Y/N"." Nick spoke into the lens, smiling widely at the girl before closing the door after seeing her turn to go back to the kitchen.
Finally, the girl took the last tray and walked to the last room, her boyfriend's, where she would stay for the rest of the days, knowing that the boy was free of the virus.
"Honey? Open here for me, please." Y/N asked from behind the door, entering the room after Chris quickly opened it with a smile on his face, staring at the soup on the tray.
The girl let out a laugh, placing the tray on the boy's computer desk and sitting on his bed, pointing at the food.
"Bon appétit, my love."
"What would I do without you?" Chris asked, approaching the computer desk and sitting in the chair.
"Starve and die." She replied, laughing loudly behind her mask as she saw Chris shove a spoonful of soup into his mouth as he nodded quickly, without actually hearing her.
#sturniolo x reader#x reader#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#love#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo fic#imagine#chris x reader#doctor#youtuber
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hi requesting a jeno x reader where jeno is so strong compared to reader and he gets turned on by that and it results in him manhandling reader -🦋
boyfriend!jeno × fem!reader (18+ mdni)
summary: had a bad day? don't worry, he'll make it better.
a/n: so, FIRSTLY, i actually didn't understand the concept of manhandling in a sexual situation, but i tried my best after doing some research, i'm sorry if that's not what you wanted 🥺 i can try another one if you don't like it!
cw: smut, pwp, unprotected penetrative sex, petname.
jeno wasn't sure when exactly he started to feel this way, but whatever it was that drove him crazy and made him feel so intensely was all your fault.
you were tiny, small, delicate—so much that he couldn't help but want to... break you. he knew he was stronger and bigger than you, and he couldn't help but feel the desire to exert that strength over you. it wasn't in a bad way, of course, but at first he was hesitant about that, like, what if you actually broke?!
however, you weren't quite so naive either. you had noticed his subtle glances at your neck, the certain intent in his gaze suggesting he wanted to wrap his hands around it as soon as he could.
and you were partly to blame; for example, you had toyed with him by squeezing his bicep or wrapping his arm around your neck in a side hug, all small, innocent actions that seemed purposely designed to provoke him further.
and then you gave him the chance to fulfill his desires. first, it started with just restricting your movements, like pinning your hands above your head with just one hand while the other held your waist to keep you in place as he was too busy burying his cock inside you.
then, it became him wrapping his hand around your neck, just light squeezes that were already making him thril inside, seeking for more, and you were more than happy to submit yourself to it.
he enjoyed seeing you helpless under him, and that's why, after a seemingly harmless discussion about "how was your day," you ended up bent over the kitchen counter. his hand pushed your face down against the cool surface—a small hint of dominance and control that leaves you feeling vulnerable and exposed.
the skirt of your dress was lifted until he had a nice view of your ass. your panties draped around your ankles as he thrusts into you from behind. the wet sound of his cock sliding through your slick folds was all you could hear, besides your loud moans, of course. “y-you should see yourself right now,” he said hoarsely, “all dumb because of my cock. does it feel good, huh?” he leans over you to lightly bite your shoulder, not really getting an answer from you.
feeling you body respond positively, jeno slides his hand around your neck and applies just enough pressure to make you gasp. he leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he says, "is this what you wanted? to be completely at my mercy?" not able speak, you nod frantically, your pants turning into whimpers. he squeezes tighter, controlling your air flow carefully as he continues to pound into you, each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making it difficult for you to breathe properly.
he groans when he feels your walls clenching around him, indicating that you were close, "let go, baby," he encourages hoarsely, his teeth grazing your earlobe and quickens his pace, his hips slamming into yours. he feels his own release building up, his muscles tensing with anticipation. he releases your hands and grabs onto your waist instead, pulling you back into him as he thrusts even harder.
your hands were holding the edge of the counter as you try to hold on, your body shaking from the intensity. jeno's finds its way to your clit, rubbing slow circles as he continues to choke you. seeing you like this drives him wild, knowing he's the one making you feel so good. "come for me, baby" he murmurs huskily, increasing the pressure on your sensitive bud. your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, your whole body convulsing as you cry out out his name. he follows shortly after, emptying himself inside you with a final grunt.
you stay like that for a moment, both trying to catch your breaths before jeno slowly removes his hand from your neck and pulls out of you, his seed dripping down your thighs. “wow, that was… wow,” you said still panting, making him chuckle and spins you around to face him, catching you when your legs buckle slightly. “are you good?” he asks softly, cupping your face and caressing your cheeks. “yeah, i think i'll always tell you that my day was terrible if that's your way of comforting me.”
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lay all your love on me - oneshot.
modern aemond x wife reader 18+ minors DNI, you will be smited.
an early valentine's day piece.
word count: 2.2k
i don't do taglists any more unfortunately -- @huramuna-fics -- follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings!
content: smut with little plot (specifics under the cut), bdsm themes, allusions to infertility, established relationship, no use of y/n, no description of reader, aftercare
lay all your love on me - ABBA • gimmie! gimmie! gimmie! (a man after midnight) - ABBA
warnings: bondage, edging, ruined orgasms, orgasm control, deepthroating, face fucking, ball-gagged, p in v, creampie, breeding kink, bdsm dynamics, dom/sub, brat taming, use of sex toys, knifeplay
You shouldn’t have listened to Aegon’s advice. Aegon, the brainless older idiot brother of your husband, gave you advice to spice up your marriage and hopefully, to conceive a baby– as he apparently had a few children running around, and this somehow made him an expert.
And you took it.
It started off innocently; more dirty-talk, heavier touches, bites that left small marks of ownership for both of you to admire. It began to move onto silken sashes loosely holding your wrists together, fingers gagging your mouth.
Then, it shifted with the creation of your safeword.
“Pomelo,” you said, a tad more confidently than you should’ve.
“Pomelo? That’s what you’re choosing as a safe word?” Aemond chuckled, perking his brow.
“Yep, so you won’t forget.”
The bindings became tighter then afterwards, but not uncomfortable, of course. Aemond was a gentle husband in most facets, and this extended to his bondage of you. He would have you reassure him that they weren’t too constricting, weren’t chafing and were comfortably snug.
Once his work was done and you soothed his worry, it was like a switch flipped in his head. Gone was your gentle husband of two years, and out came something primal and feral. It's always been there, right under the surface— broiling and writhing to come free, his blood set aflame.
You realize now what amazing control your husband has— over himself, over his environment and most importantly; over you.
That is how you ended up in your current situation— a cocktail of taking Aegon’s advice and stoking the flame of Aemond’s inner depravities. Your current situation being tied to a chair in red, silken sashes, adorned like a present ready to be opened, legs spread slightly, arms tied back. A matching ball gag muffled your gentle whines as a red bullet vibrator was carefully nestled in your folds.
This was your Valentine’s Day gift to Aemond; allowing him to tie you up and edge you for as long as he wished, watching you almost fall apart each time— before he snatched away your release. He even tied a lovely little bow across your breasts; a treat for him for later.
Saliva dribbled down your chin as you watched him; he was still dressed from work that day, business casual with black slacks and a white button up, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, hair pinned in a neat bun at the nape of his neck. He had his phone in his hand, changing the frequency of the vibrations on the bullet expertly placed just grazing your clit, teasing you and circling you. You looked a mess already, drooling and whining against the gag, toes curling at every minute sensation— while Aemond looked groomed and tailored to perfection, just watching. Cheeky bastard.
Your eyes roved his form as he pulled up a chair, finally, across from you. You swore you could see the distinct bulge of arousal tightening around his pelvic region, but he turned around before you could confirm it. Asshole. You wouldn’t be surprised, with the insane amount of control that he had over himself, if he was willing away a boner, just to tease you.
While he was turned away, you rubbed your thighs together, eager to ease some of the ache you felt from being denied.
“You know you aren’t supposed to do that,” he chastised, somehow knowing you were getting up to no good with his back turned. “You’re being bad, love.”
You responded with a few indignant grumbles, more saliva slipping from your lips and sliding down your chest.
“Back talking?” Aemond mused, finally turning around, chair in hand. He turned it so he was sitting with his chest against the back of it, arms propped on the wood as he held his phone in an almost lazy manner. “That won’t do. You know I hate when you’re bratty.” he hummed, adjusting the speed once more on his phone. His voice said one thing, but his eyes said another. He loved when you were bratty— it gave him a chance to tame you.
This exchange had been going on for thirty minutes already and you felt tears in your eyes at your ruined orgasms. You were screaming silent pleas to him from a look alone, your lashes damp with welling tears.
“Does my wife want to come? I thought you had more stamina,” Aemond tutted, his voice perfectly trained to feign disappointment.
You wilted under his faux admonishments, shaking back and forth against the bindings, chasing the high that would never come. The legs of the chair squeaked slightly as you moved it.
“Don’t,” Aemond said firmly, turning off the vibrations completely and putting his phone aside. His voice took a darker note now, not like the playful scolding before. “You’ll hurt yourself,” he got up, hand stilling the chair. “Do you want me to touch you?”
Your chest heaved as you nodded profusely. Yesyesyes, pleaseplease! Your skin crawled delightfully as he reached between your legs and slowly, deliberately slowly, pulled the bullet from your folds. It was soaked and slick. He reached up then and untied the gag, as well, rasping a finger over your poor swollen lips.
“My poor baby,” he cooed, before pulling back. He began to undo his belt and your mouth filled with saliva instantly— that had to be some sort of pavlovian response, how pathetic— your eyes were trained on his hands as they flexed, discarding his belt and shirt, then his pants without much ceremony. Your eyes hadn’t deceived you earlier, he was rock hard, to a point it almost looked painful. “You’ll get yours soon, I promise.” he said, running his palm down his length as he positioned himself— one leg up on the chair you were on, one hand behind your head. ‘Open’, he mouthed.
Your swollen lips opened as he guided his cock into your mouth. The salty, musky taste and smell of him, so familiar and comforting that it caused your eyes to flutter, enveloped your senses. He slid his length across your tongue until he nestled nicely in, drawing you in at the hilt. Your nose brushed his mound of neatly groomed short and curlies. He was all consuming, so in control— all you could do was look up at him.
“You don’t need to do the work, baby,” he murmured. “Just sit there and look pretty.” his now free hand caressed your face, thumb drawing circles over your cheek as he began to move. It was slow at first, to help you get used to it— you were very used to letting him fuck your face, but it was always nice to start slow. You felt his cock slide in and out, against your tongue, prodding at your throat.
Usually, he would put music on, or have the T.V on as background noise— but that wasn’t the case tonight. It was silent, save for the sound of the rocking chair, his soft pants of pleasure, and the downright vulgar noise of you taking him in your throat. It was straight up pornographic and you hoped that soundproofing the room had actually worked.
His fingers curled in your hair. “So… good for me,” he praised, voice tenuous as he edged himself now, wanting to make it last. “So good, letting your husband fuck your throat.” he clenched slightly, stopping his movements and clasping two fingers at the base of his cock— a close call, apparently. Times like these were where you could see the edges of Aemond’s control frayed, like threads of an old sweater. It delighted you greatly, and you wanted to see him let go completely and lose it. You hoped tonight would be that night.
You caught your breath as he showered you with compliments, wiping away your tears. “Such a good wife, my sweet girl,” Aemond said, absconding from you temporarily to fiddle with something in his discarded trousers. “Gonna open my present now, yeah?” he returned, clicking a small switchblade open— one he kept in his pocket for miscellaneous purposes. The two of you have indulged in knife play before, and it’s something that particularly excites him.
The flat of the blade pressed to your skin, the cool sheen of it making your skin prickle. He dragged it up carefully, the edge away from your flesh until it met the sashes at your breasts. Aemond sliced through them like butter, followed by the ones on your arms and legs, effectively freeing you. You gave a gentle sigh of appreciation and approval— as he always required before the final act, just to make sure you were alright.
Once receiving it, he swept you up from the chair, picking you up with ease. He wasted no time pressing his mouth to yours, tasting himself on your tongue. Your brain felt full of fuzz and bees, still numbed by how badly you wanted to come. Your clit was practically throbbing, warmth spreading through your core as he took you to the bed— not the bed you slept in, but one you both had bought especially for the play room. He laid you down so gently that you almost forgot where you were— until you looked in his eyes and saw the eclipsed pupil, his usually calm blue eyes (one less blue than the other from his childhood injury) was totally engulfed by blackness. He reminded you of a shark, besotted to the primal urges of their nature when they smelled blood.
His cock sunk into you without any resistance, like slipping on a lubricated glove. The fit was still snug, but eased some of the ache you felt.
“Aemond…” you sighed softly, body relaxing as he rested inside of you. It felt like laying in bed after a long day, your bones softening. “Need you to fuck me, husband,” you continued. “Please.” you added after, remembering your manners.
He just stayed there, still, staring at you. He didn’t move.
“Please.”
No response.
“If I am not blissfully fucked out in about five minutes, I’m going to bite you.”
Nothing.
“Pleasepleasepleaseplea–,”
Your whining was cut off as he set an unrelenting pace, right off the bat, hammering into you with reckless abandon, bullying your sweet spot like it owed him something. But he, in fact, owed you something. You reached behind and pulled his hair out of the bun, letting it fall between you like a curtain of snow. His blown out pupils, his hair a mess, his movements were erratic– he was losing control.
His hand supplanted into the soft of your hip, clenching onto it for dear life as he drilled into you. You pinched his free wrist as a reminder– to which he dutifully remembered, his digits falling to the apex of your thighs and rasping over your clit in rhythmic ministrations. Your legs locked around him in an instant, pulling him in impossibly closer as you continued to beg, you were so close, so close–
“P-please– can I?” you asked through broken whimpers.
He couldn’t even respond through his exertions, evidently chasing his own high– he gave a growl in response, nodding. You didn’t just tip over the edge, you were fucking pushed, as your pleasure came to an all consuming, mind numbing climax. Your neurons fired off on all cylinders, electrifying through your body and coming to a conclusion: Holy fuck. You felt wetness squidge between your legs as you soaked Aemond, in turn, gripping him like a vice.
The mask of power he had been wearing slipped and fell off completely, as he scooped you up from the bed (without slipping out even once) and gripped you by the ass, pistoning up into you with feverish, animalistic panting. His fingers left red indents on your soft bottom, his teeth sinking into your shoulder, a dragon tasting his meal. His knees almost buckled as he came, a long grunt indicating it– as well as the coupled feeling of him emptying his balls inside of you. He gripped the wooden bedpost, angling you in one arm as he caught his own breath.
His hair was plaited to his forehead as the sheen of perspiration glazed his skin, all the strength had been sucked out of him temporarily, exiting through his cock and into you, apparently. Yet, even still, he placed you back on the bed, bottom towards the headboard. He propped up a pillow under you and angled your legs upward. You were still thoroughly fucked out, so you let him handle you like a ragdoll, you bones jelly. It was your routine to do this specifically– as you’d been trying for a baby for the past year or so.
Aemond returned (when had he left?) with a bottle of water. “Drink, love,” he murmured softly, his disposition back to that of the gentle husband. “Here,” he fluffed another pillow, this time putting it under your head. “You alright?” he asked, uncapping the bottle of water and bringing it to your mouth.
“Mhmm,” you hummed back, sipping the water. “Food?” you asked simply, a goofy grin coming to your face.
“Of course, of course– whatever you want.”
“Thai.”
“Consider it done.”
–
When you inevitably tested positive for pregnancy about two months later, you chalked it up to your Valentine’s Day surprise that did the job– Aemond agreed. Aegon was disgusted, but also took credit for the dubbed ‘miracle baby’.
Aemond wacked him over the head each time he said it, to which Aegon would run away and shout. “I got your wife pregnant, I got your wife pregnant!”
#aemond fic#aemond fanfiction#aemond targaryen#hotd aemond#aemond x fem!reader#aemond#aemond one eye#hotd fic#aemond fanfic#aemond fluff#aemond smut#modern aemond smut#modern aemond#aemond targaryen smut#hotd smut#my writing#lay all your love on me
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`•- Jealous Norton Headcanons
norton campbell (survivor) x gn reader
prompt: jealousy
warnings: jealousy (yeah no shit), physical touch
a/n: i have a hard time writing jealous characters but im gonna try my best today raaah hopefully i do alright also this is valentines event day 4 wahoo alright cool let's get on with it already
ever since the two of you got in a relationship with each other, norton couldn't help but feel protective over you.
he doesn't mean it in a bad way, of course! it's just that he's used to having things he cares about being snatched away, and he doesn't want to lose you as well. he cares about you more than anything else in the world, after all.
don't worry, though, he's not protective to the point where he's constantly hovering around you, obviously. he understands that you want to hang out with your friends sometimes, and he trusts that your friends wouldn't do anything malicious towards you. he doesn't let it get to him.
what does get to him, though, is whenever someone seems to start getting a bit too comfortable whenever you two hang out. you brush it off at first, obviously, since pretty much everyone at the manor knew about your relationship with norton. surely, they doesn't mean for their actions to come off like that, do they?
but norton isn't convinced. something about the whole situation just feels... off to him. he tries not to ovethink it, but he just can't help himself. something about it just seemed to make him feel strange and sour inside. he knows that they likely doesn't mean any harm, but...
he's left feeling bitter and uneasy as he keeps thinking about it. he doesn't quite seem to realize the way he subconsciously starts appearing by your side more and more, keeping a watchful eye on anyone else around. it's just his protective instincts. he doesn't mean to suddenly start sticking to your presence, it just... happens.
norton doesn't really seem to realize that he's jealous. he just wants to keep you safe and remind anyone else who dares to make a move that your his, and you don't plan on leaving him anytime soon.
if the situation calls for it, he pulls you closer to him almost subconsciously. he wraps an arm around your waist and holds you tightly next to him, shooting a nasty glare at whoever was getting a bit too close for comfort. he'll even go so far as to grunt at them, angrily telling them to back off, though he does his best to keep his emotions under control.
if you try to tease him about this later that night, he just grumbles and denies everything you say with the tiniest tint of blush on his cheeks. him? jealous? no, he'd never get jealous... where'd you get that idea from?
a/n: me when i. nortbn cmpball
thanks for reading, and remember to take care of yourself!
#`•- main hall in the archives: headcanons#`•- events in the archives: the philomena's propellente's countdown to valentines day#philomena's files#norton campbell x reader#identity v x reader#idv x reader#fanfic#fanfic author#fanfiction#fanfiction author#x reader#norton campbell#identity v prospector#idv prospector#identity v#idv
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⁑ They see you cry for the first time// Hogwarts legacy characters reactions x reader ⁑
~ Hogwarts Legacy headcanons ~
Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, use of Y/N, mention of death and blood, swearing (censored), Leander jumpscare. Pairings: Sebastian x reader, Ominis x reader, Garreth x reader, Amit x reader, Poppy x reader, Natty x reader, Imelda x reader, Leander x reader.
Feel free to request anything!
-------------------------------
Context: Even after Professor Fig's death, even under great pressure and no matter the situation, you never let your friends saw you crack. Not even a single tear. You were trying really hard to hide your pain and sadness. But it had to come out one day... After fighting against some poachers with your companion, they almost killed him/her. After you saved him/her, you finally broke down. You thought you lost him/her too. You couldn't control your tears. (Pre-relationship)
THEIR REACTION :
Sebastian:
He gets up and dusts himself off without noticing how devasted you were at first.
"It seems like I'm the one who's in your debt now. I owe you- Y/N? Are you crying?"
He almost runs to you the moment he notices.
"What is wrong? Are you hurt? Are you bleeding? Tell me!"
He is extremely worried. He doesn't know why you're crying. When you explain to him you were really afraid of losing him like you lost so many people in your life, he got really quiet for a moment.
"You'll never lose me. We're a team, the best team even. If we stick together and protect eachother, nothing could ever happen to one of us. Besides, I am an excellent duellist!... Look at me Y/N..."
He lifts your chin up to make you meet his gaze. You could see how concerned he was. He wipes away some of your tears with his fingers.
"I'll be the one protecting you next time." You could feel he wasn't only talking about duels or battles...
He is not really good with words so he will go out of his way to try to cheer you up for the rest of the day. He will pick little flowers for you and bring you sweets.
"I'm not great with words but I surely can listen! Please come to me if you want to talk..or if you need a big bear hug! I'm also good with those."
Would hug you very tightly for as long as you need.
Ominis:
He will notice almost immediately when you start crying. He felt your breath pattern change and he heard you slightly sniffle.
"Y/N, may I ask what's troubling you? It's very unlike you to be this upset. I'm worried. Are you hurt perhaps?"
You then explain how scared you were. You feel like you almost lost him too.
He stays silent. He goes to reach for your hand and holds it.
He usually never lets anyone holds his hand because he doesn't feel like he is in need of any guidance and doesn't think it is ever necessary. But he is making an exception to comfort you.
"I appologize for making you worry that much about my safety. But I am still here...thanks to you."
You both make it back to Howarts and he refuses to let go of your hand.
"As you may already know, I am a great listener. I am always available if you feel the need to talk about anything."
"Your safety is also truly important to me. I just want to make sure you do not feel like what happened to you or anyone is your fault."
He really wants to make sure you're feeling better before letting your hand go.
He doesn't care if people can see him holding your hand. All that matters at this moment is you.
"Take your time Y/N. I'll stay for as long as you need me to."
Garreth:
He is very oblivious about the situation. You turn your head to not face him so he couldn't see your tears. But you feel your shoulders shake.
When he notices how your demeanor changed, he just wonders if you were tired or maybe hurt.
"Y/N? Are you alright? I have some Wiggenweld potions if you need any. I even brew them myself."
You try to explain to him how you felt. You couldn't contain your tears. Those poachers almost killed him in front of your eyes... You see his eyes widen.
"Y/N...Please don't cry. I'm fine, look! Please... I hate when I can't see your pretty smile."
He will almost instantly take you in his arms and give you a hug. He will also gently carress your head as he tries to make you smile or laugh.
"Come on Y/N, you usually always laugh at that joke! Smile for your best bud...please."
He will not leave you alone until you feel better.
"Trust me, I think you might need some of that famous Gryffindor courage, chivalry, and determination to make you feel better! You're in luck, I have all of the above!"
He will not leave you for the rest of the day. And if anyone tries to talk to you, he will tell them you need to rest. He wouldn't want you to feel too overwhelmed.
"There it is! There is your pretty smile. Do you feel a bit better now?"
Amit:
After the battle against the poachers, his first instinct will be to check on you, even he was the one who almost died. He'll quickly notice you feel upset.
"Y/N what is wrong? Please don't cry...I'm here for you."
You explained how unbearable the thought of almost losing him too was. You explained how much it breaks you.
"I-I'm sorry...I didn't know how much that impacted you. I should have known. But I'm here for you now. Don't be ashamed to cry in front of me. I'm here..."
As you're crying, he gently rubs your back and hands you his handkerchief. He stays next to you until you finish crying. Then he will talk to you for a while.
"I hope you know you don't have to hide your emotions from me anymore. I still think you're incredibly strong. You're so wonderful Y/N, truly."
He'll almost force you to go get some rest for the rest of the day.
"Please, let me bring you back to your dorms. You need to rest. I'll warn your teachers about your absence, they'll understand. I'll give you the notes I took during class, I insist on that."
He'll walk you back to your dorms like the gentleman he is. He'll make sure you don't have to worry about anything else for the rest of the day.
He will bring some food to you so you don't forget to eat. It's not just an excuse to come to see you and check on you, not at all really
He will try to be more careful about what he does. He doesn't want to worry you.
Poppy:
She almost cries first. The situation really shook her. But when she notices you crying, she focuses all her attention on you.
"Y/N! Please tell me you're not hurt! I'm here, I'm okay, you're okay. Take a deep breath."
You try explaining to her through your heavy sobs how afraid you were to lose her too.
"Don't be silly, I'll always be right next to you, no matter how annoying it can be. They can't possibly get rid of me that easily when you're with me Y/N. That's what makes you such an amazing person... You're always so selfless."
She takes you in her arms. Nobody can possibly make her let go of you.
"I'm so sorry you went through all of that... but you will never lose me."
She makes you take deep breaths and do breathing exercises until you calm down a little.
"Do you feel better? Do you need me to bring you something? Water? Food? Anything? Let me go get that for you!"
You could ask her for anything and she'll RUN to get them for you.
"Don't worry, it's okay to cry. Sometimes I cry too! It doesn't make you weak or anything of the sort! Your tears mean you feel deeply and that's a good thing!"
She'll make sure that you're not alone, not a single second, for the rest of the day. She has to make sure you feel supported.
Natty:
She is very attentive to what is happening around her. So it doesn't take her long to notice your muffled sobs you were trying to hide.
"Y/N, what's wrong? I'm here with you, you can tell me about it."
She tries to stay very calm. She wouldn't want to stress you out more than you already are.
As you explain to her how you felt about losing her too and the fear of her being killed, you can notice how concerned she looks. She sadly knows that feeling all too well.
"I want to support you in any way you need. You are not alone. I...I know how you feel."
She'll make you sit next to her. She will let you cry it out while she hold your hand and softly rubs it with her thumb.
"This is really hard for you, I understand. I will help you work it out. I'll never leave you Y/N. You'll never lose me, I hope you know that."
She'll hand you tissues as she listens to you attentively.
"Is there anything I can do to help? I would do anything to help you feel better."
She is ready to do anything you want. It really hurts her to see you go through what she went through.
Following this incident, you can be sure she will regularly check on you.
Imelda:
She is panting as she tries to get up. She is just glad she didn't die. It was a close-call. When she turns to look at you, she is surprised to see you so upset.
"Y/N? Why are you crying? We won! You beat them all! It could be so much worse, I almost died."
You explain how the though of losing her the way you lost so many people scares you. Your tears are flowing on your cheeks.
"I'm not...that big of a deal. If I knew you were going to cry over me, I would have been more careful... Please...Y/N..."
She slowly pats your back, not really knowing what to do or what to say.
"Hey Y/N, it's okay, I'm still here. And even if one day I die, I'm sure you'll figure out something crazy like usual and resurrect me or something like that. You're that powerful, I'm sure of it. But let's not think about it just yet!"
She usually would NEVER hug anyone but she'll hug you if you ask her. She will complain but she'll still do it for you.
"Hugh! So needy! Just don't hold me too tight, I can't escape death twice in a row. There there, I'm here."
Deep down she enjoys being the one you're worried about. She would never admit it though.
"Don't tell anyone we hugged or I'll never hug you again."
Leander:
He only thinks about himself at first. He almost died and couldn't believe he was still here.
"Holy sh*t you saved me! Y/N... it was crazy. I-... Are you crying?"
You tell him how afraid you were about losing him too. You couldn't bear the thought of him dying.
"Oh...I- hum..."
He doesn't have a single clue how to comfort you. He is very ankward and clumsy with his words. He means well though.
He's the kind of person to not think before he talks.
"Y/N...look at me. I...hum...your tears are beautiful...S-Sorry I just blurt out random things when I'm nervous. But I'm here..."
He'll ankwardly hug you and pat your head.
"It's alright Y/N...Do you want my scarf? You're always begging me to give it to you so you can wear it. Here, take it."
He gives you his scarf you puts it around your neck. It feels strangely comforting.
"You can wipe your tears with it if you want. It's yours now. Red suits you much better anyway."
You burry your face in his chest and hug him tighter.
"I hope it's not just an excuse because you don't need to do that if you really needed a hug from me that bad. I'll hug you everyday if you insist."
In a weird way, his teasing makes you feel a bit better.
#MY FAV KIND OF STUFF TO WRITE#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy headcanons#sebastian sallow#ominis gaunt#garreth weasley#amit thakkar#poppy sweeting#natty onai#imelda reyes#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow fanfiction#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow x slytherin!reader#ominis gaunt x you#ominis x reader#ominis gaunt x reader#sebastian x reader#ominis x y/n#hogwarts legacy oc#hogwarts oc#hufflepuff#slytherin#gryffindor#ravenclaw#leander prewett#leander slander#garreth weasley x reader#garreth weasley x you#garreth weasley x mc
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The best medicine🫂
"You need to relax kid. There's only so much stress a person can take before they explode, like pop."
Derek explained, his voice soft but his words playful. He'd always known Reid was a perfectionist but there was absolutely nothing he could add to the case files that would complete them anymore than he'd already done. Spencer always found the cases with children the most emotionally demanding, especially when it was all out of their control. Even a genius with an eidetic memory couldn't fix what had been done in this particular case.
"Actually experiencing a moderate amount of stress is normal and can even be beneficial, as it can help motivate and focus attention. Anyway, I'm fine. It's nothing I can't handle. Now stop distracting me and let me get back to my paperwork."
Spencer rolls his eyes, his mind engulfed in the case. He sips his 4th cup of coffee from that day, making a face when he tastes the bitter liquid, remembering he'd used the last of the sugar several hours prior. Reid sticks his head back into the case files, scanning over each words at an alarming rate. All of his focus is transfixed on the information in front of him, so much so that he doesn't sense Morgan sneaking up behind him. Gripping him into a bear hug from behind, trapping him against the back of his chair.
He sneaks his fingers, poising them strategically on Spence's sides, steadying them firm against his shirt-clad skin.
"What- Morgan! What on earth are you doing?"
Spencer splutters out, his voice breathy and full of confusion. He struggles against Derek's arms uselessly; whilst he's a genius, there's no way to overpower him with intellect when Morgan has him pinned.
"I told you. You need to relax, pretty boy. But don't you worry, I'm here to help you."
Morgan's smirk is audible, spinning Spencer's chair to face him, he chuckles as he looks Spencer up and down. Reid's face is flushed, a sweet blush that perfectly compliments his cheeks. Looking like a lost lamb, he glances at Derek as his heart starts to beat faster from the cheeky look in his eye.
"Ah, yes because the pinnacle of relaxation is being stuck to my chair. Of course, my foolishness."
Spencer snaps back, matching Morgan's playfulness.
"Just wait Dr Reid, you're gonna be so relaxed that you're not gonna know what's hit you. Now I'm gonna touch you, is that okay?"
Reid nods shyly, unsure of how the situation is going to play out.
"You're safe with me, remember that. Now, I'm gonna need you to laugh for me."
Morgan teases, Reid's demeanor still confused and slightly fearful but when he lets out the breath he's been holding this entire time Derek knows he's okay.
"Laugh for you? What do you-"
Spencer shrieks under his fingers, they poke and prod in the spaces between his ribs. Scratching at all the clothed skin he could reach, smiling down at the snickering genius.
"No! Stop!-"
He begs, throwing his head back and allowing himself to laugh openly. Mentally begging that Morgan doesn't find his sweet spot, he could handle being tickled on his ribs for a while, but his under arms? That's a different story.
Derek traces his fingers over the thin shirt, traveling down to his sides and scribbling his nails over his belly.
"Aww, look at you! Pretty boy can't think when he's getting tickled huh?"
He teases with a singsong tone to his voice, holding Reid in place as much as he can as he writhes in his grip.
"Morgan! Stop!"
Reid begs, letting out a snort of laughter. Derek coos, filling the air with aww's. Spencer pulls at his arms, desperately trying to clamp them to his sides to protect himself from the ticklish onslaught.
He swallows hard and makes a strangled noise, almost like it was stuck in his throat. Derek's fingers squeeze up his sides, reaching his armpits.
"No! Anywhere but there!"
Spencer squeaks a high-pitched noise, trying to swivel the chair around to knock Morgan's balance. His co-worker winks, a shit eating grin rising his lips up into a smile, his dimples deepen and becoming more prominent.
"Oh bad spot huh? Don't worry, it's not gonna hurt, it'll just tickle."
Morgan lets out a laugh of his own as he swirls one finger in each underarm. Practically sitting on Reid's lap, restraining him more as he leans over him. Spencer bucks his hips frantically, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Refusing to look Derek in the eye as he bellows out his demands for him to stop. His demands are only met with a smirk and fingers digging under his arms, searching for the most sensitive spots. When he notices Spence wheeze, gasping for air, his fingers still and remove from his underarms. Derek's hands find Reid's hair, petting it softly, running them through the strands soothingly.
"Breathe kid. It's okay, I got you."
Morgan whispers into his ear as Spencer lets residual giggles spill from his lips.
"You- you are so mean."
Spencer pants, eventually catching his breath and chuckling at his own comment.
"Maybe a little, but you don't seem as stressed now. I'm right aren't I?"
"Well there is such thing as tickle therapy, Tickling therapy releases endorphins into the body, known as the happy hormone, this has an undoubted effect on relieving stress and improving health. But the ancient Romans actually used tickling as a method of torture."
Reid rambles, grateful to be able to speak without being cut off by his own laughter. Morgan smiles down at him once more, happily looking at his best friend. His hair is messy and he's a little sweaty, but his smile is beaming from ear to ear.
"Is that so Dr? You know I'm here to give you 'therapy' whenever you need it pretty boy."
Derek ruffles Reid's hair playfully, rough-housing with him once more. Spence would never admit it, but despite his aversion of touch over his phobia of germs, he loved these moments with his brother.
#mine#knismo shit#tickle fic#criminal minds#fluff#moreid#ticklish!spencer reid#lee!spencer reid#ler!derek morgan#tickling fic#spencer x derek#spencer reid x derek morgan#Derek Morgan#Spencer Reid#Derek Morgan fluff#Spencer Reid fluff#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds tickle fic#Spencer Reid tickle fic#Derek Morgan tickle fic#platonic#Reid x Morgan#moreid fluff#moreid fic#criminal minds spencer reid#criminal minds Derek Morgan
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Abandoned...
Price x reader... tw, death (I'm not good at writing angst so forgive me if it's bad)
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You were a clingy little thing really clingy... Price wasn't used to that not one bit, he was used to things being one and done enough time to satisfy his need then go back to it he was a busy man after all. he barely had time to care for himself how the hell was he going to take care of a relationship?
It was supposed to be a one and done thing just one night to relieve himself and then he'd be good. But you were so damn addicting, a nice little thing to keep his bed warm.
But price is a man of control he can't afford to get too attached, too emotionally envolved with you, you were a soldier you should already understand that you can't hold onto things forever you see it everyday with the comrades you lose, the people killed in the name of good, the sacrifices given to keep the peace.
You should already be used to keeping things at arms distance, that you need to keep your emotions at a certain level but you don't.
You kept your heart open to him even after he warned you against it. But you didn't listen, you didn't think he could do that you trusted him as a lover when he saw himself as just your captain.
So he made a decision... when it was just a mission with just the two of you a simple one really a supposed in and out grab intel and get out a child could do it.
As you were about to approach the building he lets you know "I'm going to scout around the area see of we have any trouble on our hands" his gruff voice meets your ears.
You weren't one to question orders you truly believed that he was watching out for the two of you. You couldn't help the smile that graced your face "copy captain meet you inside yeah?" You said a bite of playfulness in your tone.
He nods "see you on the inside..." and disappeared into the darkness of the night. You progress forward while he goes back to the heli. He was going to abandon you here but you were a capable soldier you knew how to get out of tough situations.
If anything he truly felt he was helping you out in the long run. He needed you to come to reality he needed you to realize that you were a soldier not some lovesick fool.
He was trying to get you off his back really but that's not what he tells himself. Though while it was nice to have a person to keep him company and warm his bed you just went above and beyond always with the hugging, kissing, leaving cute notes in his office, the gifts you were too damn attached to him.
As he makes his way to he heli you radio in "Price how's it looking over there? I don't know about you but somethings off." Price sighed feeling as if you were just trying to find a way to make conversation with him.
"Clear, everything's good over here focus on the mission" and with that he turns off his radio amd enters the heli.
You sneak further into the building it was dead quiet not a sound it had you on edge you held you gun as you made quiet steps to the supposed intel keeping a eye out.
Before you enter the room it was in you get shot at you run for cover cursing under your breath. "Price we git unexpected enemy contact here I got shot at need back up, how copy?" You wait to hear what he says as you get shot at. "Price I need help now" you grunt into your radio.
You try to shoot back but get hurt in the process there was more than one person a whole group a ambush.
"Fuck it's a ambush price I need your help now!" you plead into the radio confused and worried why the hell he wasn't answering "Price please I need you are you down how copy?" You get up to leave running down the halls trying desperately trying to get a answer at least a small acknowledgement that he's alive.
You feel a pain in you leg as you get shot panic fills you desperation claws at your core as you limp to safety you were scared, terrified where the hell was price you needed him, or at last know he was safe.
You try one last time "John! Where are you? Are yo-" a bullet silences you... forever.
It was a quick painless death filled with fear, panic and despair.
When you didn't come back after a few days price starts to worry he thought you would've been back by now where were you? After a couple more days he finally sends some people to go find you see of you were still at the site or if you had already advanced and were lost.
He feels guilt naw at him worry seeps into his bones but he tries to keep a brave face you had to be alive.
It's a temporary balm that soothes his soul for now that was until the body bag came back the sorrowful looks of the soldiers that found you told him everything he needed to know.
A guilt filled his heart when he finds out what happened and the thought that what if he had kept on his radio? What if he hadn't left would they still be alive? The fact he had to live with the guilt that he's the reason he sent you to a early grave the way you went out no one to soothe your worries to hold you as the light faded from your eyes.
Alone and scared left to bleeding for a selfish cause a way to push you away. You should've been alive but you weren't you should've been here talking off his ear but you weren't.
All because of him you were dead and you couldn't come back. And now he has to live with the pain the grief that came from knowing he had abandoned you willingly in enemy territory. He holds onto the anger that maybe if he had stayed for a minute longer you'd be alive.
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hello! Could you do something about Asa after he spends like, a good your looking for his newest member of the collection, and when he finds them, their just, surrounded by diff bugs?
Theres like, crickets in their hair, moths and butterfly all over their arms a few spiders crawling around their legs and their holding a praying mantis in their hands and staring at in awe. Their also babying talking it and cooing at it, when they look up and realize Asa is staring at them, they raise their cupped hands a show him the giant mantis resting their, saying with a cherry yet soft voice and smile "I named her Apple!"
I would appreciate it very much if you wrote something about this :)
But you don't have to, for any reason really.
Have a lovely night/day! Be sure to drink water and eat 💕
How would Asa Emory react to finding his new pet coddling his bugs?
Asa Emory/gn!Reader
Tw for bugs and power dynamics
Requests are open!
Asa moved through the halls of the hotel with efficiency, he knew them like the back of his hand, however that apparently wasn’t helping since he’d managed to...misplace his new pet.
You were supposed to be in your room, you were lucky you had even been granted the luxury of not just being crumpled into one of the boxes, but here Asa is, speeding down the halls and jumping/swerving around his traps like some kind of sick ballet in order to find you. You absolutely won’t be getting out of this without some serious punishment.
Asa curses at himself under his breath for making his place of operations so huge, it seemed like a good idea when he set up here and it was but damn if it wasn’t his Achilles heel in this situation.
Fifteen minutes of searching later his heart is picking up in an unfamiliar way, usually he’s not one to care about others or a stray victim but something in him can’t help but worry about loosing his newest subject already. Whether it’s because he cares for you or because he hates not being in control is anyone’s guess. (He’s soft for you and won’t admit it)
Finally as he’s cracking open a door at the end of the hallway he hears a sweet laugh echoing from further along. Bingo. You’re so dead when he finds you. As he’s about to slam the door open he realises this is infact where he keeps his enclosures for his specimens, he sighs and opts to open the door slowly and quietly as not to startle the bugs.
You don’t even notice Asa enter the room, currently too enthralled in cooing sweet words to the giant mantis in your hands.
Before Asa can demand to know where you’ve been and why, his breath hitches in his throat. There you are, sat on your knees next to the enclosure cases, covered from head to toe in his beloved bugs. The calm careful way you handle them and talk to them like they can understand tugs at his heart, his face softens at the sight, anger long forgotten and replaced by a feeling of fondness, the same one he felt when he was originally scouting you to join his collection.
The crickets cling to your stands of hair, a little messy since you had left your room before Asa got to around to brushing it but he’ll fix that later, sitting contently like they’d never been disturbed in the first place.
Moths and butterflies tap their tiny feet along your arms, fluttering their delicate wings, taking off and landing back with you when they please.
Asa takes in the scene breathlessly, if he hadn’t already been weak for you then he definitely is now. As he approaches by a few steps some thick hairy legs come into view, creeping slowly over your thighs and onto your lap. Tarantulas, two of them, using you as a lap cushion without a care in the world. You really are something special. In the back of his mind Asa makes another note to keep approaching slowly, despite you needing a punishment he’s not exactly wanting his eight legged pets to kick hairs at you in fright.
After a few minutes of blissfully observing one of the tarantulas unhurriedly totters off your leg and begins to move across the room. “Oh, where are you off to little guy? I need you over here with me, I’m already probably in big trouble with sir” you sigh. “I don’t want to loose you and make it worse, besides, I don’t think I could forgive myself if something happened to you under my watch”
In a strange way you suppose you understood Asa’s need to keep you under wraps right now, not wanting this beautiful specimen to disappear from your sight, much like Asa with you.
You swivel on your knees to coax the spider back into your palms, nudging its abdomen for encouragement and letting it waddle back into your hands. From your new position you catch a glimpse of heavy black boots in your peripheral. Oh.
You turn your attention fully to the man above you, heart racing at the idea of what’s about to come, however as you reach his eyes they aren’t filled with the rage or disappointment you were expecting. The black orbs are filled with softness, fondness, almost something sweet you can’t decipher.
Without thinking you present the giant mantis to Asa, still on your knees. “I named her apple!” A beat passes and an array of emotions flutter through Asa’s steely heart, his blank face still giving nothing away. After what feels like an eternity he crouches down in front of you, cupping his hands under your own, assisting in holding the mantis. “A fine name for her, pet. Do you know what species Apple is by chance?” He says in his firm but calm, leading voice, slipping into the tone he uses when teaching his lectures without even realising it.
“Uh-no, no I don’t sir…tell me?” You say, wincing a little at the stumble at the beginning, hoping asking him to tell you didn’t come off as rude or undermining his authority. Asa smiles, not letting anything on.
“She is a Giant Asian Mantis, or Hierodula membranacea, If you want to get technical. These are the most commonly kept mantis as house pets and come in an array of colours, but as you can see, apple is mostly light green. I think your name fits her nicely.” Asa explains matter of factly, hands still cupped under yours for Apple to totter onto.
“Woah” you say without thinking, watching Apple move to Asa’s palms and taking in the information. Asa exhales from his nose in a small chuckle. “Woah indeed, however I think it’s time we get you and Apple back to your respective rooms” Asa says with a quirked eyebrow, giving away that your not going to get away with this unpunished just because he finds you endearing.
Asa helps you round up the specimens and places them back in their individual tanks. After making sure you both wash your hands thoroughly he takes your now clean hand and walks you back to your room, letting you ask him more bug questions as you walk.
Despite how lovely this has been you’ll still be given a stern talking to once you return, Asa can’t bring himself to punish you for your little adventure and entomology lesson but isn’t one to let you off the hook without some kind of consequence, after all he expects your complete submission and obedience and won’t settle for any less. But for now that convocation can wait, and Asa can get you comfy on your knees infront of him, manoeuvring your head via the ring on your collar and finally working the comb through the snags in your hair with care.
I hope you enjoy this! Your rq was super fun to do and the idea was really cool! Thank you so much and feel free to send me more < 3
#slashers#slasher x reader#slasher headcanons#asa emory#asa emory x reader#the collection#the collector#the collector x reader#writing#my writing
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All right, here's the thing about the Todoroki fire-users.
Most forms of glass melt at a temperature of 1,400°C to 1,600° C.
Orange flames have a range of 1100°C to 1200°C.
So unless either of them can exceed the 1400°C threshold and get into the white flame range (1300°C - 1500°C), Shouto and Endeavor cannot melt glass.
But with a blue flame that burns 1,400°C-1,600°C, this bitch sure can.
So now that in the Ambush Simulation AU I've revealed Nine and his entourage are the LoV, imagine the opening scene of Heroes Rising:
Whichever henchmen they've hired to transport the cargo in that car chase scene are careening down the highway, the Pros are in pursuit...and so's the Vanguard.
Car accidents caused by the fleeing villains have put Rock Lock and company out of commission, but Shimura's motorcycle can maneuver through just fine, so he and his passenger are still in the game like it's a Greek chariot race. Nobody really knew the Vanguard was going to make an appearance, nobody knows how they got the info on what was happening, but hey, they're provisionally licensed and can operate under Pros now, so no one's going to complain about the extra manpower on their side.
So my thoughts and prayers are with the poor driver of the armored vehicle whose sole job is to focus on the road. He just wants to survive the night without getting arrested, his comrades can worry about the Pros behind them, he's more concerned about the Pros blockading the road in front of them, one of whom is Endeavor. He's not paying attention to that loud thunk he heard on the roof.
Things are already looking a little sticky...
...and then this crazy bastard appears in the windshield and starts melting the glass. Not breaking it; it's too thick to break without a weapon. Just slowly melting it so the poor guy has enough time to contemplate and regret some key life choices.
(There's a very specific image in my head here and it's the drowned corpse scene from the anime Ghost Hunt if anyone's familiar with that one.)
Anyway, the getaway driver just panics and veers over the guardrail and down the mountainside as it goes in the film, which pretty much leaves Shimura to stop his bike and stare alongside Endeavor down at the path of destroyed vegetation in horror as the sound of screeching metal fades to silence.
Shimura: ....
Endeavor: .... *slowly turns to look at Shimura*
Shimura: *doesn't look up* Hey, don't look at me. You created that monster.
...
And recall that scene ends with Endeavor heading down the hill to investigate the crash and finds Hawks already there:
Touya: What's the situation with my leg? It feels like it's either been broken or impaled.
Hawks: Actually, it's both. That's an...impressive compound fracture.
Touya: All that and I only got a busted leg? *sits up* Oh, no wait, fuck, there's two of you and Endeavor's multiplying.
Endeavor: *fed up* ....scared me to death, you shit for brains. Where's the League?
Hawks: I think they managed to warp out at the last minute. Genius here is the only body I found breathing or otherwise.
Touya: *cackling* Shut the fuck up, Feathers!
...
Shimura: You have got to stop smiling like you regularly devour the souls of small children and their pets.
Touya: *adrenaline wearing off, pain finally setting in* I have no idea what you're talking about.
Rock Lock: *standing over both of them* Exactly what was your plan back there?
Touya: Obviously, I was thinking I could get control of the steering wheel. Not my fault the driver had the nerves of a dandelion. Also, I'm not the one who thought chasing down an armored vehicle with four-door sedans was a good idea, so why I am the only stupid one here? Now everyone be quiet, my head is splitting and I just suffered the indignity of being carried away from an accident by my father.
Endeavor: Carrying you was easier when you were four.
Touya: The last time you carried me is when I was four!
#my hero academia#touya todoroki#hawks#endeavor#heroes rising#ambush simulation#alternate universe#offshoot#tenko shimura#dabi#keigo takami#enji todoroki#shigaraki tomura#boku no hero academia#bnha#mha#league of villains#vanguard action squad
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Hello :)
Can You do a one-shot or headcanon with Veneer from trolls 3 with a fem reader, were the reader is their manager or something like that but she has a crush on veneer that is very obvious and veneer likes to tease reader because of that ? 😅 is ok if you don't want to write this :)
Hey!! Thank you for your request! I enjoyed writing this, there are little headcanons and sketches, I hope this is what you wanted and you like it!🩷
Veneer x !femReader teasing headcanons
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
°He would literally call you all sorts of cute nicknames, not because he usually does this with all people, although rarely, but for you it would be constant and intentional. The dude enjoys and is proud of your embarrassed reaction to this.
°Veneer does not detach from you for a second, it seems that it can be even more demanding than Corduroy, but all the quibbles that he can express to you are purely a reflection of the fact that he wants to tease you, so to speak, to check, to see the reaction. He likes to see how you become stupid in his presence, how desperately you try to keep a cold face.
°while fiddling with paperwork in your office, Veneer often comes to you, under the pretext that «he is your boss and has the right to control your work» but for some reason he doesn’t care at all about his other employees. Feeling the gaze of the big blue eyes of a pop star, your brain melts, your thoughts get confused into one lump and it’s difficult for you to continue working at the same pace as before. Frozen in one place and looking into the space above the laptop, you are unable to do anything, just waiting for what witty phrase will be said by the little attractive bastard who came here at such an inopportune time. “Well, well, kitty, while you spend time looking at the dust on your keyboard, productivity drops, if I didn’t control this, you would continue to shirk!” - Veneer understood that the reason for your behavior was precisely his visit, knowing that you would not turn your head towards him, he also gave the blush on his face. Smiling mischievously at his latest teasing of you, he walked out of your office, quietly closing the door.
°Knocking on the door of Velvet and Veneer's dressing room, you notify them that the equipment is almost ready for rehearsal, and in (…) time it will be ready. Having heard absolutely no response, not even Velvet’s languid sighs, you became worried. After knocking a couple more times and asking if everything is okay, you decide to go inside. Inside, all you could find was Venir lying alone on the couch with his eyes closed, but it didn’t really look like he was sleeping. For a second you were overcome with panic, you quickly approached the pop star, throwing away all your embarrassment in front of his sweet face, you frantically asked if everything was okay. He was still silent with the same beautiful eyes closed. Being the drama queen you are, you've already come up with the worst possible scenario for why he could be lying there like that. You slowly knelt down in front of the sofa, and tilted your head towards Veneer’s face, trying to catch your breath. Suddenly, the opening eyes of the star took you by surprise and swept away, frozen in place, you heard a bored voice and his smug expression on his face.“uhh, you can just ask for a kiss, honey pie, don’t have to force it while I’m dozing.” At this moment, Velvet enters the dressing room, seeing you bending over Veneer in dangerous proximity to his face, she simply snorted with displeasure
“Ugh, I don’t understand why you can’t postpone youre disgusting caresses after the rehearsal?”
And rolling her eyes, the older twin walked away, leaving behind the noise of heels on the tiles. Now, not only you were red, but also the one who was responsible for this room. “h-hah man, this action clearly has a rotten vibe, darling, just move your face away already..” It seems that after this it was Veneer who was the reddest in this situation.
°He asks you to give him a manicure. You, of course, tried to object to this, saying that you were hired not as a nail technician but as a manager, but Veneer’s pouty lips and face were displeased, and you simply could not object to him. And also his constant argument: “But Crimp did this, maybe it’s worth bringing her back?”, of course, after that all your arguments against disappear. At first, you were very embarrassed to do his manicure, but later you noted that every time you wait for Veneer to ask you to do it again. You enjoy holding his hands in yours, each time surprised at how soft and smooth they are. Noticing your admiration, he, hiding behind severe stress and fatigue from star life, asks you to also give him a hand massage, although this really relaxes him! Although sometimes you may notice small scratches on his hands, most likely the pop star wanted to play with his smuggled monkey.
°The constant mentions of Crimp's former assistant were literally driving you crazy. You wanted, no, you needed to know who she was. What if she and Veneer had a relationship?! What if she really is better than you... One day, while you were helping choose the color of lipstick for Velvet, you casually asked her who this Crimp was. To which Velvet gave a cursory answer that it was an annoying sponge that she wanted to fire «literally every day spent with this little splinter» After that, a silly smile did not leave your face, which Velvet called “stupid”, but you didn’t care , because now you know for sure that Veneer really tried to make you jealous.
#trolls veneer#trolls 3#velvet and veneer#velvet trolls#headcanon#trolls 1#trolls band together#trolls 2#veneer x reader#i want to sleep
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Genshin men dealing with separation anxiety.
You didn't really specify any characters except for the men, so I just picked out some who I think fit this description. Hope you're okay with that.
Characters Included: Xiao; Wanderer; Tighnari; Diluc
Content: gender neutral reader; separation anxiety; mentions of insecurities; reverse comfort
Word count: 1,8k words
Thanks again for your request!
Xiao
Xiao is relatively new to the whole concept of dating and relationships in general
He tries to get used to it, but it's difficult for him. For so many years, he saw himself as nothing but a weapon. So this new situation is just something he never thought would happen to him
once he fully trusts you with everything about him would be when this particular "problem" starts to show itself
would have one of the worst cases, in my opinion
he is so used to loss, yet he can't imagine having to deal with your loss. He's sure that should this day ever arrive, it would ultimately destroy him, too
he can deal with a few hours alone, he doesn't need you by his side 24/7
but, once a certain time frame has been reached and he hasn't heard or seen anything from you, he starts to grow restless and anxious
Xiao tries to play it cool, but deep down, he worries about you
are you okay? are you hurt? could you possibly need his assistence? But you haven't called for him.. so everything should be fine, right? But what if you just didn't get the chance to call for him and you were already....
he tries to keep his thoughts under control, but he can't seem to redirect the course his mind has taken
he tries to reason with himself, not wanting to immediately assume the worst possible things
but soon, he can't take it anymore, so he starts looking for you. He searches the places you frequent the most, while maintaining a safe distance so you don't immediately spot him
he soon finds you in the streets of Liyue Harbor, talking to one of the vendors, laughing happily
as he sees you like this, his heart suddenly grows lighter, the impending feeling of dread slowly going away as it's replaced by this warm, loving feeling he always gets when looking at you or spending time with you
he waits until your done with your chat, watches you as you walk away from the booth. Once you're in an area with less people around, he appears in front of you
you're slightly startled, but you start to get used to his random entrances and dissapearances
you smile at him, and the last bits of Xiao's worries are instantly blown away as he allows himself to take in your calming presence
somehow, he always feels at peace with you. No matter what life might throw at him in the future, he's sure he will be able to conquer it, as long as you're there with him..
Wanderer
definitely the worst case out of all the others
but can you really blame him? He endured so much already, has experienced so much pain and heartbreak... can you blame him for not wanting to loose you as well, after he let you in?
it takes time and effort to convince him that your feelings for him are genuine and that you would never, ever leave him behind
it's not like he doesn't want to believe you. He really does, but he just can't imagine anyone being actually interested in him and wanting to maintain a relationship with someone like him...
like I said, time and effort is the key into his heart. And even once you managed to take your place there, he won't openly show it. He's awkward about those kinds of things, it's a whole 'nother issue
once you've successfully broken down the walls around his heart and marched your way in, he really can't handle being away from you for more than a few hours
as soon as you talk about leaving (be it to go to work, or groceries) he begins to feel anxious
because... what if you don't return after all? What if you finally realized how insufferable he is and you decided to not deal with it anymore? He knows you proclaim your love to him daily, but he can't help it
the doubts just start to act up like it's second nature to him, and no matter how hard he tries to suppress it, he can't seem to win against his own mind
his imagination runs wild, painting a hundred different scenarios on how you might leave him and run away
he wants to get up and out there, looking for you, but that would make him seem desperate and he most definitely does not want to be percieved in that way
so he sits it out at your shared home, trying to deal with all those intrusive thoughts in his head, intently watching the clock hanging on the wall, counting the minutes until your return
as soon as he hears the door opening, he is up and "greeting" you at the door
"Took you long enough. Where have you been all this time?"
he tries to sound indifferent, but to you, you can clearly tell that his voice lacks the ususal bite and he seems to be frantic
instead of an answer, you pull him into an embrace, lightly stroking his scalp
the Wanderer is taken by surprise at your actions, but that quickly fades and he melts into the touch, knowing that this was your silent reassurance to him
he acknowledges it, but doesn't comment on it
maybe one day, he'll be able to openly talk to you about everything that bothers him and be completely vulnerable to you. But that day is not now...
he just hopes that you can wait for him until this day finally arrives..
Tighnari
as cool and composed as the fox hybrid likes to think that he is, he has his weak moments as well
although... this problem probably won't arise until after the two of you are mated
he's not becoming overprotective of you and he's also not controlling or anything. He just.... he can't really deal with being alone anymore
in the past, before knowing you and even while dating you, it never really bothered him. He was used to not seeing you for a few days, sometimes even weeks, thanks to your position in the academiya
but now... he can't seem to deal with it anymore. Whenever you tell him that you have to leave for a few days, he dreads for those days to arrive
He's perfectly fine for the first two or three days, but anything that comes after that... total nightmare for him and his crew
He is restless, anxious, constantly thinking about you and your well being
Tighnari knows that you're more than capable of protecting yourself, but still! He's not there to protect you, how can he be sure that you're fine?
Sure, you write letters to him almost daily to keep him up to date and reassure him that you're fine... but what if those letters are written by someone else, who just happens to be extremely good at forging handwritings?
During that time period, Tighnari is also not able to sleep very well, if at all
he tosses and turns througout the entire night, hugging your pillow close to him, imaginig that it was you laying next to him, hugging him and stroking his back like you always do
he thought that this might help him to calm down, but all it does is increase his intense longing for you
he whines, calling out your name in the dead of the night, hoping that by some miracle, you would hear his cry and return to him
when you do come back to him, he doesn't care for any work he has to take care of that day
he will leave it for the other rangers to take care of, he has more important things to attend to now
namely, cuddling you in his bed, wrapping his tail around your thighs and burrying his nose in your neck, breathing in your scent that he missed so much while you were gone
he feels your fingers stroking along his back and he can't help the shiver that runs down his spine when you do so
he won't let you out of bed for the next few hours, after all... he has to make up for the days that you and him were separated..
Diluc
oh boy.. another one with a pretty bad case
Diluc has lost so many important things in his life, he couldn't bear losing you as well
He is a busy man, he knows he can't be by your side 24/7, even if he really wants nothing more
time spent with you is always the most treasured to him. With you, he always feels safe and loved. He had no idea how much he has missed feeling like this until you walked into his life
Now that he has those feelings back again... he won't trade them for anything else in this world
being as busy as he is, he doesn't really have much time to see you. Sometimes, you both go days without seeing each other, this fact made worse thanks to Diluc's unpredictable time management
only when his anxiety keeps getting worse, when thoughts from back then start to flood his mind again, does he give into his desires
in the dead of night, he seeks you out, knocking on your door, hoping, praying to the Archons above that you're not asleep yet
and it seems like his prayers were heard, as he can hear footsteps cautiously approaching the door
"It's me, darling. Please... can you open the door?", he calls before you even have the chance to ask who is out there
without hesitance, you open the door, seeing him standing there causes your heart to ache
without questioning him, you pull him inside, closing the door and then immediately turn to hug him. You instinctively know that he needs this right now
Diluc wastes no time in reciprocating your show of affection, burrying his face in your hair, breathing in and commiting your smell to his memory
standing here like this for a few minutes, you are the first to pull away, asking him to lay down with you
he nodds his head in agreement, following you to the bedroom where he pulls you close into him as soon as you are both comfortable on the bed
night like this have become a common occurance for you, knowing where the roots of his actions lie
without him having to ask for the much needed reassurance, you give it to him, trying to further the comfort with your touches to his arms and back, lightly stoking the skin there until his eyes start to grow heavy and he falls asleep
he has never told you the full story about the things that had happened in his past, and you don't pressure him to do so. Once he's ready, he will come to you on his own, you're sure of that
Until that day arrives.. you can wait and help him in any other way that he needs..
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