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awkness · 3 months ago

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No Man is an Island

(Paternal Platonic Yandere oc & Injured Teenage Genderneutral Reader)

You and a small group of people are left stranded on an island, struggling to survive. One member of the group, Henry, has grown a paternal attachment towards you and has taken on the task of caring for you, but are his intentions truly as benevolent as they seem, or is there something much more selfish behind them?

Content warnings: injury, plane crashes, talks car accidents, coma, and child death, and general yandere shenanigans

Authors Note: This is much more chill then what I usually write. Don't be fooled, though, this dude is still messed up lol

You were on a plane alone, flying back to see your parents when the plane begins to experience severe turbulence. The captain tries to reassure everyone that things are under control, but it only gets worse. It feels like you're in the middle of an earthquake. Oxygen masks fall from the ceiling, and you can barely put yours on before blacking out

You wake up to a horrible, throbbing pain in your leg, and a sticky, humid feeling everywhere else

You're near the shoreline of the beach, a canopy of tropical trees shielding you from the sun. Turning your head, you could make out the main wreckage of the plane. There's a crudely made splint on your left leg, which is swollen and covered in bruises. There are no people in sight

Panicking, you start yelling, trying to find someone, anyone to help you understand what's happening

A middle-aged, gruff looking man comes from the wreckage. He introduces himself as Henry and helps you calm down before explaining the situation to you

The plane had crashed on an unihabited island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, an unknown distance away from the mainland. All of the crew were dead, and most of the passengers were as well. The only people who survived were you, Henry, and no more than ten other people, all variously injured

None where as injured as you, though. Henry says that you had most likely broken your left fibula and tibia when the plane crashed. As the bone hadn't broke through your skin, he says that it should heal on its own, but it would take months, most of it spent on bed rest

The first few days were the roughest. You spent your time in a haze of pain and heat from the brutal and humid temperatures from the island. It was hard to make yourself eat, and you often felt like you never had enough to drink, as your group had decided to ration the fresh water and food that was scavenged from the crash

The other survivors didn't interact with you often. It wasn't on purpose, but they were too busy working to make this place temporarily habitable, and they had no time to think of an injured person who couldn't help them. Plus, you weren't much for conversation anyway, given your current state

The only person you did see regularly was Henry. He checked on you often throughout the day, acting much like your self-appointed doctor. He seemed to have a basic understanding of what medical care to provide you, though, so you weren't about to protest

His bedside manner was good as well, knowing when you were in too much pain to make conversation and when you were lucid enough to want company. He was your only source of companionship for those first few days, being the one to bring you your daily rations of airplane pretzels and coconut water and make sure you were eating.

Whether it was the pain subsiding or you simply adjusting to it, you began to pull yourself out of your pain driven stupor and started talking to Henry more, out of the pure loneliness and boredom of your situation

He was very easy to talk to despite his outwardly serious and borderline intimating disposition. As you talked to him more, you found him to be friendly and a bit corny, occasionally cracking a stupid dad joke or pulling light-hearted pranks on you. He seemed fairly competent at reading people, able to sense your loneliness, and often encouraging you to open up whenever he had the chance to talk

You didn't know if it was out of genuine interest or pity for your circumstances, but you found you couldn't refuse his company. Before you knew it, you started oversharing about your life. Within the next two weeks, he knew pretty much every major thing about you, from your family, your hobbies, where you lived, what your future goals and aspirations were, and so on

On the other hand, he seemed more reluctant to open up, often getting quiet or withdrawn when your questions got too personal, with what constituting 'personal' varying. You eventually picked up that something troubling must of happened to him in his past involving his family, so you stopped pushing, letting him bring up his past on his own time

Outside of superficial facts about him, the only thing you knew was that he was a former US Army Special Forces survival expert, which was how he knew how to treat your injury, and how he knew how to survive on the island

When you were feeling well enough, he would teach you some of survival knowledge he had, teaching you different fire starting methods, how to build a lean-to, and how to crack open a coconut to get the milk. He seemed rather anxious about watching you wield his knife, though, so he did that for you when he could

Things take a turn for the better as the group finds decent shelter that isn't the plane wreckage in the form of uninhabited caves in the heart of the island, along with a waterfall spouting drinkable water

Some are reluctant to leave the shoreline, as the group had taken to maintaining a bonfire there to hopefully signal passing planes or boats for help. A compromise was reached where they would move to the caves and would continue to maintain the fire in shifts

The trek towards the caverns was especially hard on you. The rest of the survivors had gone ahead to carry the supplies to the caverns, leaving Henry to guide you through the thick foilage and uneven terrain

Henry had given you a walking stick to aid your journey, but because of your prolonged bedrest, there were often times you had to be carried, making the journey a slow and tedious one. You apologized, but he brushed it aside, saying he didn't mind, as he often had to carry much heavier loads in the army. He then went on to tell you cherry picked stories from his time in the military to distract you until you reached the caves

He had decided that it would be best for you to sleep near him, in case you needed assistance or if there was an emergency. His reasoning seemed sound, and you were inclined to trust him after all this time, so you agreed

With this newfound stability, things finally seemed to slow down, as people weren't constantly threatened with death by starvation, dehydration, or exposure

This was also the time that the other survivors began to talk to you more regularly

It was how you learned that Henry had become the defacto leader of sorts, given he was the most qualified out of the group. People often came to you to see if he was there whenever they needed him, asking you to pass messages along to him when he wasn't there. Which was pretty often, given how he was usually the person to help gather food or scout out new parts of the island

It was after one of these outings that you began to learn more about him

It had been a rainy, stormy day, which made the groups whole mood sour. Henry was out with a small group to gather food, and you were with the rest of the survivors, hanging out in the main cave

It was easy to overhear conversations in the main cave, noise often bouncing about the walls. It's how you and the rest of the people in there were forced to listen to a heated conversation developing between two of your members

Apparently, one of the more toublesome people of your group had been caught stealing from one of the other members of the cave. Their talking turned to arguing, and the arguing became shouting, which became shoving, which was steadily growing more violent by the second

Some had tried to break up the fight while everyone else had managed to move away except you, who could only slowly hobble away

A fellow survivor was trying to usher you away when someone knocked into you, causing you to fall and hit your head on the cavern floor. You lost consciousness

When you woke, the first thing you noticed was the pain in your head, throbing like a pulse. The second was that you were back in your bed (if you could call a platform of crushed bamboo and palm leaves a bed), a blanket tucked to your chin. The third were the footsteps of Henry as he came over to kneel beside you, his face creased in thought and worry

He then went to question you on how you were feeling, if you knew who you were, if you remembered what happened, as well as checking your eyes and testing your muscles and general coordination

It was only after he was satisfied you didn't have any severe brain injury that he finally relaxed and explained what happened

After you were knocked unconscious, the fighting had stopped, and you had been taken back to your part of the cave to be taken care of as they waited for Henry and his group to arrive

The conversation then faded into silence, as you were too caught up in your pain to keep talking. You closed your eyes and laid back down

It wasn't until later that night that you finally noticed that Henry was still in the room, watching you, face blank and motionless as if he were in another world. You've never seen him look that way before

You nudge him and he startles, completely caught off guard, apologizing for worrying you

You ask him what's wrong, and instead of brushing your question off like he usually does, he hesitates before going on to speak about the family he used to have, a wife and a child, who he loved dearly. One day, they ended up in a car crash. He lived with minimal injuries, but his wife died, and his child ended up brain dead with no hope of recovery. He had kept the child on life support for months before finally pulling the plug

"When I was waiting for you to wake up, it was like I was back in the hospital, hoping beyond hope that a miracle would happen, and I would see them open their eyes again... Y'know, it's the craziest thing. While I was watching you, I kept thinking about how they would've been your age if they were still here. They would of looked just like you."

You apologize, unable to think of anything else to say. He waves it off and tells you not to mind what he said and to go to bed. He was still sitting and watching you as you fell asleep

About five months after the crash, when the group had started to lose hope of there being a rescue, someone had spotted a plane flying across the night sky

Everyone scrambled to strengthen the bonfire on the shore, yelling at the sky in a desperate attempt to be noticed

With Henry's help, you made your way to the fire as well, propping yourself up with a walking stick to keep your weight off your broken leg, waving your free arm to the sky as you joined in the shouting

But it didn't matter. The plane flew away, disappearing into the dark

Some people cried, others flew into a rage, and the rest didn't say a word. Eventually, people slowly made their way back to the caves, disheartened at their loss

After a few hours, it was just you and Henry left on the shore, the dying embers of the fire next to you as you both stared at the sky. He seemed content

You break the silence and ask him if he thinks there will ever be another opportunity for rescue

"I don't know, but I doubt it. With how long it's been, that plane probably wasn't searching for us. We probably won't see another one anytime soon."

"You don't sound too broken up about it" you say.

"I guess I'm not. If you can overlook the heat, this place ain't half bad. Fresh seafood, clean water, a built-in shelter, and 24/7 access to my own private beach. Shit, I don't even have to pay taxes anymore, either. This is the closest thing to paradise I'll ever find."

"You can't mean that, right? We can't stay here forever."

"Of course we can. We have everything we could need. Plenty of people have lived in worse places."

That's not what I mean, what about my family? I want to go home!

The mention of your family leaves him stunned, like he forgot they existed. He quickly regains his bearings and continues

"I don't mean to make you upset, kid, but I think you're misunderstanding me. I know it hurts now, but there's nothing stopping you from living a happy life here. You've got food, a roof over your head, and someone to take care of you, what more could someone ask for?"

You don't reply. Sensing your darkening mood, he offers to help walk you back, and you accept, both of you slowly making your way through the foilage in silence

You fail to notice that the fire was left unattended and how it had slowly died out, leaving the island invisible to any help that could pass by

The next morning, no one bothers to reignite the fire

Afternoon rolls around and Henry leaves, going to fish for your next meal. You pray it isn't sea cucmbers again

Someone comes up to you, asking for some cordage they had lent to Henry. Instead of waiting for him to come back, you decide to search for it yourself

You search his part of the cave and almost give up before spotting a bag hidden in a crevice of the cave. It was so well hidden, you're afraid you might lose sight of it if you turn away. What could he have in there? You're almost certain Henry wouldn't keep rope tucked so far out of sight. But you couldn't help your curiousity. You've been in here countless times, how didn't you notice this? Against your better judgment, you open the bag

You don't find the cordage

Instead, inside the small bag is the bright orange of a flare gun and several unused flare cartridges

#a bit of an abrupt ending but what can you do lol #yandere #platonic yandere #gender neutral reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere platonic #yandere original character

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solbaby7 · 1 year ago

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Take What You Need

pairing: cassian x reader

warnings: just swearing and porn with little plot, prolly a few typos

summary: Stress wears hard on a General's body, so you offer up yours in hopes to provide some much need relief

—

He'd been working so hard.

Forgetting to eat some days and once you'd noticed, you made a point to wake up a bit earlier than normal; a whole hour before he'd stir awake to ensure he had a warm meal and a canteen full of water that you'd ordered be refilled at least twice throughout the day. Cassian always grumbled out some complaint while sleuthing his swords between large wings; hands still wiping sleep from his eyes but he always came home with it empty and a little more life in his cheeks.

"Why not just take a little vacation?" You murmur into his shoulder later than night, his fighting leathers a heap on the ground and Cassian's giant body is pliant in your touch, muscles relaxed from a hot bath and head cushioned by your thighs as your fingers rake through inky hair. "Rhysand wouldn't mind."

"I know but I have too much to do—too little time to get it done. I can't get distracted at a time like this; when Velaris and its people need their safety ensured the most."

It's another version of the same thing he'd always said when you'd ever tried to suggest such a thing but you don't fight it and no anger builds because you know how much this means to him; being able to use his skills to protect his family and his home. "I understand your responsibilities completely; I only worry about the toll they take on you." Your point is easily proven, hands grazing over bare skin and while the hard lines and strong muscle is attractive and jaw dropping, the pained groans that pass full lips makes your heart lurch from the soreness that followed. "When do you get to relax?"

"Whenever you bend over my desk and let me have my way with you."

He means it as a joke—you think. A boyish smirk on manly features, eyes closed in content as you continue your exploration, knuckles grazing the membraneous wings behind him and you'll never grow tired of the goosebumps that litter your skin at the moan that pulls from him. "Okay," You whisper, legs moving below him and he goes to complain, eyes peeling open to make some spoiled little comment about how he hadn't yet given you permission to stop your caring touches but the words never leave his brain. Not when you'd peeled off your—his shirt and tossed it somewhere behind you. "Then have your way with me."

Cassian doesn't answer right away, a little stunned by the breasts displayed perfectly in his line of sight, the dangling little belly ring you'd done yourself with a clean needle and entirely too much time alone. "You're serious?"

"Very." It comes out like a hum, a pleased smile on your face and confidence swells now that you've effectively stunned him to silence with so few words. "You work hard," You explain, eyes actually appreciating the bare skin before you. "I see it and I'm proud of you and if all I can do to help you feel a little better at the end of the day is by being your stress relief—then, I'd be happy to oblige."

He takes no longer to ponder it, rising up and taking in your bare chest like it were the first time all over again. "It's been a rough week, sweet girl." For a second, you think he tells you to fill the silence, to ease you into his fingers hooking into the waistband of your night shorts to slide them down your thighs and over the length of your legs; its dangling over one ankle when he moves on to the next, a low groan emitting when he takes in the bare cunt beneath. "So fucking good to me," Cassian praises and it's when a strong soldiers hands curl around your thighs, fingers gripping at your hips when he drags your ass over the arm of the couch. It's a strain on your back, hips jutted in the air and spine stuck in an arch but you push the mild discomfort aside at how much praise he offers for it. “You just always know exactly what I need.”

The position does little protect you from the ravenous assault of Cassian’s mouth that lowers down against your cunt; lips smacking kisses and tongue darting out to explore until your legs were searching for purchase—something to hold onto or maybe to push against to feel more of his mouth or push it off, you can’t tell but the pleasure is addicting.

Weeks and weeks of your fingers that could never quite compare to Cassian’s; digits thick and skilled when they coat themselves in your arousal and shove it back inside. Every filthy moan encourages him, positive reinforcement fueling his ego more than a million compliments on his physical appearance and he doesn’t slow down until you’re dripping between your legs and struggling for breath. “You sure you can handle it?”

“I have many times before unless something here has changed.”

He chuckles at your smart mouth, the snarky response second nature and he probably would’ve let it go if he wasn’t so high on the dominance—the way you were so quick to offer up your body to him and lay at his mercy while he fucked off the stresses of his job. His heart clenches at the huge display of trust, hands gentle after working an orgasm from you; slick fingers grazing over the soft curve under your breasts. You expect him to linger there; to stick to his usual routine and work as many hickeys onto the malleable flesh until there was no space left to mark but it doesn’t happen.

Just one kiss is pressed to the center of your chest, ears a cutely aware of the boxers dropping to the floor and the throbbing cock burning between your thighs when he smiles down at you with a look you can’t place. "Remember something for me, yeah?"

You nod, words escaping you as you try and fail to figure out that glint in hazel eyes darkened by blown pupils. He's slow about it at first; intentional in the way he teases you with the weeping head of his cock and it takes everything in you not to squirm against the bruising grip on your hips. "I love you."

Your brows furrow at the sentiment, ready to return it either way when it becomes clear why Cassian was being so sweet—so kind and eager to give you pleasure before taking his own because something curls in your stomach when you watch the way he braces himself. Certain he can hear the way you swallow thickly, you glance up at him, voice hesitant. “Cass—“

He cuts you off with a gentle shush, almost placating as he watches where the two of you begin to join and the thick stretch of his head is barely inside before he’s talking again. “You said you wanted to help, right? Help baby, be a good girl and take me.”

It’s easy to give him what he wants when you go boneless in his grasp, each excruciatingly perfect inch of his cock fucking into you like you were as insubordinate and stubborn as his recruits. If it weren’t for the unwavering grip on your hips, the sheer weight behind his thrusts alone would’ve been enough to push you clean off the couch.

It would’ve been a mercy—a reprieve from the brutal pace spurred by your words and there’s nothing you can do but take him, moans spilling and eyes squeezing shut as every single nerve ending felt like it was being electrocuted over and over and over again.

The love shows in his words even when he fucks like he hates you, cock unbelievably deep from this position and the sound of your pussy slurping up his girth is obscene. It couldn’t get any better; watching the hard lines fade to relief, nothing but unrestrained pleasure screwed up on golden skin and your eyes flutter shut when a hand slides up to your throat. “Too good to me,” His voice catches and you know he’s close but there’s something comforting about the fingers loosely gripped around your neck. “—don’t deserve you for a second.”

You’re trying to tell him that it’s not true—that he deserves more than you could ever scrounge up but the words don’t come because Cassian is and he’s spilling such sweet words out even though his fingerprints are bruised into the skin of your hips and you’re certain there’s no way you’re going to be doing much else but sleeping anytime soon. It doesn’t matter, not when his seed is so warm inside and his face finally looks calm as he watches it spill out of you. “Cass—“

“I know you’re tired baby,” The hand around your throat shifts into gentle knuckles dragging slow lines against your cheek; a sweet gesture meant to distract while his other hand stroked around a quickly growing cock. “—but I’m not quite finished yet.”

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar x reader #acotar x you #cassian #cassian acotar #18+ age range #cassian x reader #cassian smut #cassian acosf #cassian x you #cassian x reader smut #acowar #acotar #send asks #copyright

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bunnysnuff · 2 years ago

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Being in a relationship with Charlie and Nick.

Pairing: Charlie Spring x m!Reader x Nick Nelson.

Triggers: Poly relationships. Mentions of Mental Health. Mentioned of Underage drinking. Mentions of homophobic behaviour. Idk, These are short until I get used to writing :)

Send requests :).

- Keeping the relationship secret, because if it got out at school you all knew the possibility of bullies or just assholes in general bullying you.

- Plus not even nowadays, people still don't understand how this kind of relationship work and they tend to hate them.

- Nick gets you and Charlie to play rugby, even though Charlie claims to be no good at it, he mainly just hangs around with you on the pitch.

- You and Charlie quit the rugby team very quickly.

- But Nick still likes to watch you two dress up in his rugby jerseys, even if it's for some lame excuse.

"Your shirt wasn't even that dirty, Y/N."

"Yes it was. Charlie split coffee all over it."

"No, I didn't. Shut up."

-Tao and the others were slightly confused on the dynamic of your relationship, but knew there was something more than just being 'friends'.

-Lots and lots of hugging. I mean lots. Nick loves doing a threeway hug with You and Charlie and lifting both of you off the ground. Whereas, Charlie loves being sandwiched between You and Nick.

-Helping Charlie when he has a bad day mentally. He loves being able to cuddle you both, while he rants and talks out his emotions. Poor boy needs a lot of reassurance. If he doesn't feel like talking, You and Nick usually bring Nellie over or go on a walk, talking about everything and anything to distract him from his worries.

- "I'm Bi, actually." is something you and Charlie quote to Nick everyday, and it makes him giggle. It's defo an inside joke with the three of you.

-When Nick is busy at his rugby practice, Charlie sometimes reads to you. When he's not, he always trying to kiss you and make out with you.

-Nick would be jealous to see You and Charlie all over eachother after practice. He would chase you and Charlie around until both of you gave him a kiss.

-Even though Nick and Charlie are out as a couple together, they still secretly hold your hand whenever they could. You and Nick almost got caught once by Darcy.

-And Charlie always kissing you in school nearly got you caught too.

-All of you hang around at Nick's house since it's always private there. All three of you either have deep, heartful conversations, or giggle through your sentences. There is no telling. Let's not forget the steamy making out all three of you do when Nick's mum isn't home.

-Nick's room being covered in photos of You and Charlie. He loves taking photos of you two. His lock screen is You and Charlie cuddling during a nap at his house.

-The two sometimes fight to get your attention.

"Char, let me spoon Y/N."

"But I'm spooning him."

"But you said I could ten minutes ago... Char, are you pretending to be asleep?"

-The three of you always travel together. And they're so so over protective of you.

-They're so jealous too, Charlie more so than Nick (Nick is confident enough to know no one will ever be him) but since Charlie is always worried that he's not good enough, expect him to be throwing glares left, right, and centre. Pls hug Charlie.

- Charlie is more opened to PDA (public display of affection), so he's always hugging and kissing You and Nick when he's close. It makes the two boys a bit sad when you're all in public, and they can't hold your hand or anything. They want too so badly, but they don't want you to get harrassed.

-Cuddling is very.. tangled. Charlie loves being spooned, and Nick loves spooning but Charlie moves alot in his sleep. It's like once a week, one of you three is pushed off the bed.

-Also Nick is literally a human radiator, so he's usually in the middle on cold nights.

-Nick is usually the calm one, however, he loves the chaotic energy You and Charlie brings to his life.

-Tao getting suspious when he walked onto the rugby pitch to see You and Charlie holding hands on the bleachers, and the flirty waves you gave Nick.

-Eventually, You three decide to tell Tao and the others. They're all super supportive and it's adorable.

-Especially Darcy (IMO).

-They both love sharing clothes with you. It gets to the point where you're not sure who owns what piece of clothing anymore. They've a little game going on. Whose hoddies do you use the most? Nick or Charlie.

- They are both gentlemen, but they’re competitive about it.

#heartstopper #heartstopper imagines #heartstopper x reader #heartstopper season 2 #nick nelson #nick nelson x reader #nick nelson x m!reader #nick nelson imagines #charlie spring #charlie spring x reader #charlie springer x m!reader #nick nelson x charlie spring #nick nelson x reader x charlie spring #nick nelson x m!reader x charlie spring.#charlie spring x reader x nick nelson #bunnysnuff writes✨

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therapybard · 2 months ago

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Pallas and Athena Headcanons

Pallas has many siblings and generally likes them, but a constant competitive atmosphere makes it hard to really connect with any of them.

Athena naturally has a bit of an abandonment problem since her first real experience in life was her Olympic family sending her away.

Triton doesn't really know what to do with Athena, so he just kinda throws her in with his other kids like "This is your sister now. Have fun!" Like adults at family gatherings throwing all the kids together expecting them to get along.

Thankfully, they do get along! Pallas is immediately excited to have someone new around and likes Athena's wings. The others are too cautious of Athena to be as friendly.

There are lots of jokes about Athena's age, mostly from Pallas.

Athena, right before her first spar with Pallas: Don't worry. There's no shame in losing to a goddess.

Pallas: Lots of shame in losing to someone who's only a month old.

Pallas stops the jokes after Athena opens up to her about Metis and what happened to her. She's the first person to get angry on Athena's behalf about it. Not that either of them can do anything about that anger.

Pallas is immediately intrigued by Athena's curiosity and thirst for self-improvement. She doesn't get angry when she loses, instead asking what she did wrong and treating it as a learning experience. Athena is constantly asking questions and never takes things for granted.

Athena struggles with processing and showing her emotions, so she loves how open Pallas is about everything. Her passion is explosive and Athena can't help but get pulled in. She jokes that Pallas feels Athena's feelings for her. That often takes the form of Pallas getting mad on Athena's behalf when people are rude to her.

Pallas is the first person Athena takes into Quick Thought.

Athena figures out rather quickly that she has no interest in romantic or sexual relationships. Pallas is not the same way, occasionally talking about crushes and such with Athena before Athena explains her feelings on the matter.

Way later into their friendship, Athena gets a bit insecure about their relationship. She wonders if Pallas wants more from her, things she isn't comfortable giving. Pallas assures her that she'd never want anything from Athena that she doesn't give willingly and enthusiastically. Pallas is already blessed beyond belief by their friendship. Why would she want anything else?

Although Athena can swim, Pallas is much faster. When they travel together, Athena often grabs Pallas's shoulders and rides on top of her as Pallas does the swimming for her. Athena wants to pay her back for this but her wings don't naturally support two people. She spends a while working on her upper body strength so she can easily lift Pallas. One day, they go to a nearby tall cliff. She is able to glide around for a while with Pallas in her arms. Don't worry, they practiced on smaller cliffs first to make sure it'd work.

As time goes on, Pallas asks Athena if she ever misses her real family. Athena is confused. "You are my real family. No bloodline could ever usurp this." Pallas agrees, saying it was a stupid question. Nevertheless, she fears for the day Zeus realizes he gave up the most wonderful daughter he could ask for, and demands her back.

So, I haven't used my tumblr in a long time, but my Epic obsessed brain needs an outlet. My thoughts are largely inspired by @mer-acle's story Fighting to be Loved but my headcanons should stand on their own.

#epic the musical #epic athena #pallas #pallas athena

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former-ghost-of-the-internet · 6 months ago

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One Night in Medellín

(Screen shot and image edits done by me)

Summary: Takes place during s2ep5, when Los Pepes first attacks the narcos on the streets of Medellín. You lose your hearing during a standoff and are dumped at the Search Bloc base. Javi comforts you in the aftermath, finding ways to communicate through your temporary deafness.

Javier Peña x f reader

Word count: 3526

Rating: 18+ for some dark content in the background. My blog/‘place I keep my reblogs’ is very Mature, so no minors allowed there, sorry.

Warnings: series typical violence, hurt/comfort, soft Javi, tiny bit of your blood, descriptions of panicked reader, generally able-bodied reader, might read as shorter than Javi, only one instance of female clothing for a funny awkward moment, no specific descriptions of reader, hopefully this is fairly inclusive for everyone. No y/n, no smut.

Authors note: 100% bad information on everything medical related in this story. Any cultural inaccuracies are my own fault too. Apologies to Steve Murphy for being the butt of a joke or two. First time writing in second-person. Not American so the spelling will be slightly different.

Please enjoy 😊

....

Medellín nights were always festive, despite one man’s war with the Colombian government.

You’d had a long but good day, far far away from the UNICEF office and in a little communa church hall, where you and the other doctors and nurses had vaccinated as many children as could be rounded up. Even the abuelitas had rooted out the most stubborn kids, and either guilted them into coming down, or whacked them in the right direction with their walking sticks and shoes, if not open palms on skulls. Each time was a commotion, and to ease hurt childish feelings, you slipped enough pesos into their hands for an ice cream. For the hard-working abuelitas a coffee cart vendor happily provided free coffee, after you had thrown a pretty smile his way and warned him the little old women were worked up enough to be a threat to anyone not on their side. And he absolutely wanted to be on their side.

With the unused vaccines stored at a major hospital, and saying goodnight to the local doctors who’d been right next to you since sunrise, you’d headed to a hole-in-the-wall restaurant one nurse raved about during one break you’d taken with her, with free coffees, thanks to a sharp glare from the abuelitas, bless their hearts.

It was further from the city centre than where you’d been told to stay close to at night, but you hoped your very bright UNICEF shirt would offer some protection in the dark. Even your backpack had a big red cross on it. Anything to say you were a doctor, here to help, and absolutely not a threat.

The restaurant was packed, even the few plastic tables shoved outside were full, and the small waitstaff offered paper plates to take-away, which many people had chosen, and sat on the street curbs to eat, under the yellow streetlights.

At last the line to order, which the waitstaff had banished to wait outside the actual restaurant, had shortened to only you and the two men in front of you. They both carried full gym bags. And as you noticed with a slight chill through your spine, handguns tucked into their belts. They chatted together without a care in the world, as you looked away to make sure you didn’t see their faces, even in low-light.

You stared up the street to the top of the hill and the man who walked down it with an assured swagger, encased in khaki pants. Like he’d stepped out of the jungle.

You frowned as he passed under a streetlight. Something about his face was familiar in a bad way.

He had his focus on the men standing next to you, and in a blink, drew his own handgun out.

An arm grabbed you around your shoulders, pulling you back into a chest, your backpack falling to the ground. Then the cold metal of a weapon held to your ear.

Shouts in Spanish between the men, some sort of negotiation happened as you tried to simply breathe. This is what everyone was afraid would happen to you, from the president of Colombia, to your superiors, and your family, down to the Medellín officials and a couple of American DEA agents. They’d all wanted you to stay out of the murder capital of the world. You’d told them no one would target you. The local doctors were still here, so why shouldn’t you?

Now you were a human shield, not because of your work, but because you were the closest person to grab. You had never considered the possibility of it before this minute.

The man behind you moved a step back, taking you with him. Except your legs refused to work, staying where you had left them. Another step back, dragging you along, and your legs crumpled underneath you, making you slide down his body at an awkward angle. Enough for the man in khakis to shoot.

The bullet entered his chest right by your ear. All sound stopped and you were falling.

You landed on a dead man’s chest. On instinct, you curled into yourself and away from everyone, hitting the rough and hard concrete of Medellín’s streets.

Hands grabbed you and hauled you to your feet, half carrying you to a waiting SUV. First you, then your backpack were bundled into the darkness of the back seat. The dead men’s gym bags also ended up with you. The owner of the hands hopped into the front, and the driver took off.

A hand came back to tap your cheek, grabbing your chin and twisting your head to look up. The accidental light of street-lamps and cars flashed across your view. He smiled at you and his mouth moved as if he was talking.

You frowned and focused on his mouth. None of his words were getting through to you. You blinked hard to try to clear away the fuzziness of the world, but it changed nothing.

His mouth made these exaggerated shapes and his spare hand moved in circles, like a hamster spinning uncontrollably on a wheel. Maybe he was shouting at you.

You blinked again to be sure, and then had to shake your head. You couldn’t hear anything.

He smiled then tapped your ear and gave a thumbs down. You nodded.

That caused an explosion of arms from him, as he whacked his driver on the shoulder. Looking back at you, he took note of the UNICEF insignia on your shirt, and you realised where you had seen him before. Carlos Castaño. A paramilitary man based in the jungle, fighting communist guerrillas.

You had met once before. You’d had to get permission from every side, paramilitary commanders, regular military commanders, government officials, and even the guerrilla commanders, before they let you step anywhere near the Amazon. All so you could vaccinate a few children in a communist village.

The communists had been straight-forward to convince, once you talked in their lingo, focusing on healthcare for all. For the others, a bribe that came out of your pocket, another a promise not to get in the way of anything and to get out in under 24 hours. The Castaños you convinced by saying the communists were dirty, potentially disease-ridden plague carriers. If the brothers couldn’t promise you every communist in the jungle dead in three months time, then they had to let you in to vaccinate, so no epidemic could start from their continued existence.

You hated saying it, and drunk too much later that night to get the sound of it out of your mouth, but it worked. Those kids wouldn’t die from a preventable disease. But you couldn’t save them from a bullet shot by mad, greedy men.

Carlos smiled at you again, and pointed his driver to take the next left.

Some minutes later, the car pulled up to the curb. Carlos turned to you and put a finger over his lips and shushed you. Then he dragged the same finger across his neck and finally pointed it at you.

You didn’t know what your face was doing at this point, you probably looked like a scared rabbit, all wide eyes and trembling body. Carlos broke and laughed at you, waving you out of the car. You fumbled with the car door, and stumbled onto the dark, damp street, dragging your backpack with you. They sped off into the night as you stumbled with your own weight.

Not far away, in a pool of white light, was a gate-way guarded by Search Bloc officers. Carlos had dumped you, the little lost foreigner, in front of their base. Your legs co-operated long enough to get you to the gate.

The guards stopped you with one hand up and the other resting on their rifles. You raised both hands up, and announced to everyone’s ears but your own, your name and nationality, that your passport was in your bag. The words felt like they slurred coming off your tongue, like they were heavier than usual. You wondered if you made any sense, but one man nodded at you to continue. It took you no time to dig out your passport.

With a short inspection of your passport, and a torch flashed into your face, the guards waved you through the gate. One of them touched your ear and brought it up to your eyes to show you blood. The other held his radio up to his mouth.

As you checked your ear for more blood, a police car came from the base, and the guards helped you in. A short ride and you were taken inside the bright building. The lights blinded you, and you tried to cover your eyes, barely seeing the medic ushering you to a bench.

You kept blinking, like if you could turn off the world for a bit you would be alright again. You’d be able to focus, to think, to speak, to hear. The outside world was right there in front of you, and as much as you tried to reach out, you were locked behind your eyes.

A warm hand caressed your arm and shoulder, bringing your attention to its owner. Javier Peña. He stared at you with big brown eyes, looking you over better than any doctor. His hand slid down to yours, keeping it safe under his.

Javi listened to the medic, then his attention went to a nearby officer, and you saw his lips ask a question, his eyes straying to the dark streets beyond the base. You shook your head, grabbing his shoulder with your other hand, pulling his eyes back to yours, shouting out your warning in clumsy sounds you couldn’t quite hear. If you had your way, no one, not even the narcos, would be out on those streets tonight. Especially not him.

Because Javi cared. No matter what anyone, or even he said. His heart cared for so many people you’d lost count, though he tried to keep it secret from the rest of the world.

And somehow, somewhere, he decided he cared about you too.

Javi nodded, as serious as ever, and cupped your cheek. Message understood. Relieved, you crumple into him, his arm wrapping around you to hold you close. His chest rumbled, maybe talking to you, or maybe to the officer. After a few breaths, he squeezed your hand and tilted your body back to look at him. He nodded towards the stairs. You nodded back and he helped you up, letting you lean against him.

He led you upstairs, past many doors, until he reached one particular darkened room, and ushered you in. You recognised some of Javi’s colourful shirts piled on a chair, and larger piles of Steve’s shoes, pants, and tops, scattered over half the room and one of the two-tier bunk beds.

Javi led you to a small desk, its small lamp draped a soft light over the room, pulled out the chair for you, and poured a glass of whiskey. He made sure you had both of your hands cradling the drink before he let you take the slight weight from him. You sipped a little at the strong drink, watching as he first gathered up his few visible clothes, shoving them in a suitcase, and then collected Steve’s mess, roughly sorting and folding, then at last dumped into a closet.

Javi went to the neater bunk bed, not Steve’s, pulling back the thin covers, inviting you to rest there. But you didn’t move. You just sat there blinking at the world.

He came back to you, dropped to a knee, and untied your shoelaces, gently taking off your shoes. Setting them aside, his eyes looked you over again, and settled on the whiskey in your hands. He pointed at it, and then glanced up at you. It took a second or two before you realised he was asking if you wanted more. You shook your head and moved the glass away from you. Javi plucked the drink out of your hands. He had a quick debate with himself, ended with a short shrug, and then downed the remains.

Putting the glass on the desk, he swallowed again, before catching your gaze with his. He lifted both hands to his chest, cupping them like the air was something heavy he could hold up, and jiggled them up and down. Then he pointed at you and made a gesture like he was swiping a cobweb away. You frowned and he repeated the sequence. This time his cupped hands looked like a bikini top. You still had no idea what he wanted to say.

With a quick lick of his lips, he reached forward and tapped a finger on your bra strap under your top.

Your face heated as you realised his question. Did you want to take your bra off? Yes, you did, and you nodded at him.

Javi joined you in nodding, but then put a finger up, telling you to wait. Another nod from you, and he was on his feet, dragging out his suitcase again, digging to the bottom of it. At last he brought out a khaki green t-shirt, and placed it on the end of the bunk for you. As you got to your feet, he shoved the suitcase away and retreated to the door, closing it behind him.

He could have stayed and turned his back, but maybe Javi thought that was too hard to mime. You change out of everything except your undies, draping it all over the back of the chair, and slipped on the t-shirt.

The door remained shut. It felt colder without him in the room. You rubbed an arm to try to stop your shivers. Was he coming back? Should you wait? Or was this everything you could expect from him? He had done plenty for you.

He’s probably not there. Why would he be? He’s got files to read still, the radio to sit by, informants to call, Steve to rescue, or maybe he’s finding another bunk to sleep on. So long as he stayed on the base it would be fine. He would be fine.

The hallway is empty. It has to be. You were on your own, you just had to be alright with that. And you would be. Eventually.

It would take time but you would be good again.

You huddled into yourself, your eyes dropping to the ground, as you tried to make your heart understand that Javi had done enough for you tonight. Then you saw the shadow under the door, like something was behind it. Your hand was on the knob before your brain could think.

Javi twisted his body to face you. He had stood guard on your door as you changed. The worried look over his features seems to be a permanent guest this evening.

Your eyes must have said please come back, as he maneuvered you inside with a gentle hand above your elbow, and followed, closing the door again. He sat you down on his bunk bed, and then further down to lie on your back.

He rubbed your arms a few times, slow and comforting, staring at you for a while. At last one hand came up to cup your cheek and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You nuzzled closer, his mustache tickling your skin. Your heart, mind, and body called out for Javi to stay. Nothing else would help you, could soothe your tremors, calm you and find yourself again, like being close to him.

Javi drew back, and your hand shot out to grab his arm, gripped tight so he couldn’t leave you.

His hand still cupped your cheek, his thumb soothing over the slight hurt he’d caused.

When your breathing eased, you pointed at him and then at the bunk below you.

Javi looked over his shoulder at the door, like he was saying he would find another place to sleep, but that wasn’t what you meant.

You jostled his shoulder to get his attention once more, pointed forcefully first at him then at your bunk. Not another bed, this one. With you. This time he understood. His eyes flicked from place to place, your bunk and then Steve’s bunk, even down at his shoes as he thought of something, and then he nodded.

You were shuffling to make room for him when he stopped you. Javi pointed at you then covered his eyes with a hand. He wanted you to keep your eyes closed, so he could get comfy too. But it meant you’d be down another sense. No sight and no sound. The world would be even further from you.

His eyes begged you to trust him. You took a few deliberate breaths, and he waited for you, watching for any sign of major distress. At last, you nodded and used both hands over your eyes to show you weren’t peeking.

In your darkness and quiet, the only company you had was the bunk under you and Javi’s weight next to your thigh. You could smell his aftershave and cigarette smoke, not overpowering, but most definitely there with you, and not leaving anytime soon. Nice and comforting and him. You took deep breaths of it.

He shifted his weight forward, one way then another. Shoes, you guessed. He came back to you, and did a short wiggle. Something landed next to your arm, soft and warm. His shirt.

Javi’s weight left the bunk completely. Panic made your muscles clench, and you forced your hands down into your eyes, trying to glue them in place, and breathed as best you could.

Something rougher and stiffer and warm landed on top of his shirt. Jeans? He was still here.

You waited a long, long moment for something more to happen.

Two fingers tapped the back of your hand. A deliberate action, purposeful, a message to you. Safe to look now. You drew your hands away and saw Javi standing next to the bunk in a pair of white boxers, folding his shirt and jeans away in his suitcase. He leaned over and placed a quick kiss on your forehead. A thank-you for your bravery.

He left before you could catch him, going to the bottom end of Steve’s bunk, lifting it up and closer to your bunk. He repeated with the top end, and you got to your knees, reaching over to grab the metal frame and pulled it in snug next to yours.

Javi, the genius man that he is, had just created a queen-sized bunk bed. Room enough for your body and his broad shoulders.

You watched as Javi climbed into his side, wondering how he wanted to sleep, when he draped his arm over to you, hugging you to lay snug against his side, your head resting on his bare chest, one of your arms across his waist. He fussed with the covers for a moment or two, making sure most of your body was underneath it.

He was warm and smooth and solid. Safe. At last. You breathed in deeply, his unique scent filling your nose, and then let it go. Another in, and out again.

Your heart had settled. The world was as far away as it needed to be right now. Or perhaps the world was as small as this room, as this bunk. This man. Your arms around him, and his around you.

If your eyes closed tonight, Javi would be there, under your touch.

One more thing left to do. You shifted to look into his eyes. They were filled with concern, until you whispered your thanks to his ears alone. Even a tiny smile on his lips crinkled the corners of his eyes. You couldn’t stop yourself from planting a kiss to his cheek. One of his hands cradled the back of your head, and he nuzzled his nose against yours as soon as your lips left his skin, then moved up to your forehead, kissing it again.

Those brown eyes locked with yours for a moment, before he closed his eyelids, and then opened them quickly and nodded at you.

He wanted you to close your eyes. So you did. You felt Javi lean in closer still, and then his lips placed a kiss first on one eyelid, then the other.

Opening your eyes, you pressed your forehead to his, and moved your hand from his chest, to soothe over his jaw, his chin, then trace over his lips. You wanted to kiss him there. And from the glint in his brown eyes, he wanted it too.

But it wasn’t the right time. Both of you knew it. Besides, you wanted to hear him.

Javi’s lips twitched into a soft grin as if he heard your last thought. His mouth formed words, slow but firm. Three short words. Then he settled you back down onto his warm chest.

You felt Javi’s heartbeat against your cheek, counted its beat without numbers, let its languid pace lull you further towards sleep, until at last your eyes closed with the peace he gave you.

And in your dreams Javi’s heartbeat was your world.

....

Thank you for reading!!!!!!!!!!!!

#javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena #javier peña x reader #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x you

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silverskye13 · 5 months ago

Text

Angst prompt courtesy of: @theunderscorwolph

[Part 1 of 2]

[Part 2 Found Here]

Helsknight waited... Probably too long to check in on Tanguish. In his defense, the last time he spoke to Tanguish, he was heading to Hermitcraft, and while Hermitcraft was far from safe, it was, in its own ways, safer than hels. There were fewer people, fewer hazards in general, and there was Tango. Tango wasn't a fighter. As far as Helsknight could tell, he was mostly just squirrelly, and a bit cowardly. But he was fiercely loyal. That went a long way. He had even, misguidedly, attempted to save Tanguish from Helsknight once. Helsknight, who recognized he was a big, scary, angry-looking, armed and armored knight, could respect that. And Tango and Tanguish were friends, and they got wrapped up in each other sometimes, and this was far from the first time Tanguish was gone all day talking to his other half about some project.

It was, however, the first time he'd been gone for two days in a row.

Helsknight didn't really consider himself to be a worrier. Tanguish was an adult. He could take care of himself. And even if he couldn't take care of himself, Helsknight could recognize that everyone had some level of pride. Butting in on someone else's business uninvited was a great way to be a nuisance at best, and a problem at worst. So, Tanguish didn't come back by the evening? If there was a problem, Helsknight would respectfully let him handle it. Tanguish knew to come get him for help. And while Helsknight would feel truly guilty if his dithering caused Tanguish to respawn, he could take some solace in knowing he would wreak holy vengeance on whoever did it.

[That was one of the perks of being a knight: when you pointed at someone and said something along the lines of "Through hels or high water I will smite thee" or some such dramatic nonsense, people tended to get out of your way and let you get to business.]

Day two of no Tanguish, and Helsknight went from being passively concerned, to something closer to open nervousness. He asked, as subtly as he could, around the Colosseum if anyone had seen him. No one had, though Martyn did make a joke about Tanguish finally getting wise and finding a real knight to squire to.

[EB really needed to stop getting between them when Martyn said things like that. The power of a bloody nose on shitty humor was astounding.]

Eventually, Helsknight had given up and decided the best thing to do was go to Hermitcraft and track the little pest down himself. He suited up for what he thought might be a mild amount of trouble -- it was always possible he would run into Wels when he was on Hermitcraft, and if he planned on searching for someone, he wanted to minimize the time he was fighting his double. He donned his chainmail, and the netherite gauntlets and grieves. He made sure the clasps on his boots were pulled tight. He cinched on his netherite sword, and made sure it pulled easily from the sheath.

He picked up his cloak last, and gave it a contemplative frown. In hels, the cloak was a distinctive and somewhat necessary piece of costuming. It was the visual shorthand he needed to inform everyone that he was a knight, and therefore probably knew his way around a sword [and wasn't worth mugging]. For those who knew knights, it told them what Order he was a part of. Useful. On Hermitcraft, however... Being able to tell at a glance that he was a red-themed knight in dark armor, who looked suspiciously like but not quite enough like one of the other server members...

While Helsknight weighed the pros and cons of stealth and subtly, two things he was famously very bad at, the shield hanging on his wall shuddered and kicked, and someone tumbled out of the reflection with a shriek. Helsknight sighed and rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling. He did a slow count to ten in his head, and tried not to be very, very annoyed he'd just spent twenty minutes putting on armor for no good gods-damned reason.

"Tanguish," Helsknight hummed, when he thought he could keep his voice relatively neutral, "for no reason in particular, I think we should make some ground rules about when you should check in with people--"

Helsknight turned, looked down, and anything else he was going to say vanished out of his head with such abruptness, it made his ears ring. Laying prone on the floor of Helsknight's cell, staring with wide, somewhat terrified eyes and the kind of grin that screamed about recently realized mistakes, was Tango. The Hermit blinked up at him. Helsknight blinked down at him. Somewhere down the hall, somebody laughed at something, which was their only indication that the whole world hadn't frozen with them when they made eye contact.

Helsknight could say, with honesty, he never expected to be put in a situation where a Hermit stumbled into hels, much less into his cell in the Colosseum, surrounded by all the biggest, scariest, most dangerous people in hels. At a complete loss on what to do, he fell back on what he thought was safest: namely, making sure no one got killed over it. Helsknight leaped over Tango -- who screeched ingloriously -- crossed to the door of his cell and slammed it shut. There was no lock -- he'd never needed one until now -- so he settled on turning his back to the door and bracing against it, content in the knowledge that, should someone come inside, he would be the first one to know.

It did not hearten him to see that Tango was still on his floor. He had apparently, when Helsknight stepped over him, curled up as small as he could, anticipating some kind of attack. He'd thrown his arms up over his face, and now peered at Helsknight through his fingers, humming tuneless, horrified syllables.

"Tangotek," Helsknight said, concentrating on keeping his voice very calm and very quiet, "you aren't welcome in my home."

"I didn't know I was going to end up here," Tango whispered back, his voice high and tense as a violin string.

"Go home."

Something flickered in Tango's eyes, something like determination. Helsknight hated that look.

"Uhm. N-no can do. Sorry."

"Can't." Helsknight said, barring his teeth at the Hermit. "Or won't."

Tango made a face at him, tight-lipped and tense. He propped himself up on his elbows. "Uhm. If. If I say won't, will you kill me?"

"Possibly."

"Then I can't. Definitely, definitely, physically can't." Tango looked around, scrambled to his feet, and dashed to Helsknight's bed. He, admirably, only winced a little when he set his spawn -- probably worried hels worked like the nether, and the bed would manage to explode somehow. With a bit more confidence this time, Tango stated again: "Can't."

"I can break that." Helsknight seethed quietly, and tried very hard not to grind his teeth. "It would piss me off. I like being able to sleep here. But I can break that, and send you back to Hermitcraft."

"But you don't want to do that," Tango said nervously. "Because-- uh-- you'd have to kill me, and Tanguish would be really, really upset about that."

"Tanguish isn't here. So either run home, or I will... escort you there." Helsknight put on his most wicked grin, and placed his hand on his sword meaningfully.

Tango staggered a step back away from Helsknight, somehow managing to go paler than he already was. The redstone freckles adorning his face sparked, and the flame of his hair took on a slightly green cast. The idiot Hermit was apparently made of very stern stuff, though, because he didn't flee for the nearest reflection. He took a few seconds to breathe. He had his own sword, a fact that Helsknight only noticed because his hand twitched towards the hilt uncertainly. Helsknight wasn't alarmed. Tango didn't move like someone who knew how to use a sword well, and he was fairly sure the Hermit's hands were shaking so much he would drop it if he tried to draw it.

Tango swallowed hard, darted a tongue across his lips, and asked with only a minimal tremor in his voice, "Uh, T-Tanguish isn't here? Like, not here here, or like... Not in hels, here?"

Helsknight narrowed his eyes. "Is he supposed to be?"

"He left my place yesterday, and said he would be back in a few hours," Tango explained quickly. "I thought-- like, you know, maybe he decided to wait until morning? But. He didn't come back. And I got worried. He. You know. He tells me if he can't make it. It's-- all it takes is a reflection to talk. You know? And I did look in my reflection, but I couldn't see anything, which normally means he's not by one. It was just dark."

Tango crossed his arms. It was a gesture that somehow made him look smaller.

"I thought-- I hoped-- you know. Hopping through the reflection. I could just check on him. Make sure he was okay. I think. I think maybe it just took me to his spawn point."

Tango thought that statement over, then flashed Helsknight an incredulous, almost horrified look, "Why is his spawn point your bed?"

"Tanguish was supposed to be with you," Helsknight frowned.

"You haven't seen him?"

"No." Helsknight rested his hand on his sword hilt, mostly just so he wouldn't fidget. "Could he have gone back to Hermitcraft and you just missed each other?"

"I checked," Tango said, shaking his head. "I have... X gave a few of us console access. I did a few scans... Is there. Anyone you know with that kind of access for hels?"

"Hels and Hermitcraft are different places." Helsknight wrinkled his nose. "Maybe Evil X?"

"Cool! We'll talk to him then!"

"Oh sure," Helsknight spat derisively, "I'll just go knock on the front door to Evil X's tower and ask politely for admin access, will I?"

Tango grimaced. "Will he not... Like that kind of thing?"

"Oh he'd just love it. One more thing to hold over my head." Helsknight snorted. "It wouldn't work anyway. I have a pact that says I can't directly oppose him. If he, for the gods know what reason, has Tanguish, and I knew--" Helsknight made a parrying motion with his hand. "It's better if I don't know. Keeps my hands from being tied."

"Huh," Tango leaned back against the wall, slightly more at ease. Helsknight wasn't sure if he liked the fact that the Hermit was getting comfortable. "I kind of figured you and X-- uh, Evil X, would be friends."

"Why in hels would we be friends?"

"Well, I'm friends with Wels. And. You know. X. I just kind of figured..."

Helsknight decided the best thing to do with this statement was ignore it.

"I will check the house," Helsknight said. "You go back to your server. When I find him, I'll tell you."

Tango shook his head vehemently. "No! Nuh-uh. This is my rescue mission."

"While I appreciate your tenacity," Helsknight bared his teeth at the Hermit, causing him to shrink back a step, "hels is for helsmets. You wouldn't last ten minutes here. And I'm not wasting time keeping you safe."

"You protect Tanguish just fine."

"Tanguish can outrun everything that chases, and out-clever anything else."

"And he came from me," Tango said, crossing his arms petulantly. "I'm plenty smart! And I can be speedy in a pinch!" He sniffed. "We'll just give your house a look-around, easy-peasy."

Helsknight made to argue, and then a thought occurred to him.

"This isn't my house."

Tango blinked. His eyes shifted around the small, relatively bare room. The single desk, shield mounted on the wall, and bed.

"Is it... An outpost or something? You put this up while you were exploring?"

"This is my Colosseum cell," Helsknight said. When Tango only stared at him blankly, "Surely Tanguish has told you about the Colosseum."

"I mean... He did."

"I have a room here. For when I don't want to walk across hels to sleep."

"There's a bunch of fighters out there."

"There is."

"Fighters who... Dislike... Hermits."

Helsknight snorted.

"W-well!!" Tango sputtered, noticeably more nervous, but doing his best to ignore it. "I'm! Still not leaving! So! We'll just have to be quick. And once we get outside--"

"We'll have to walk across hels. Hels, the city, is very big, and has a lot of people in it."

Tango put his face in his hands and let out a keening whine of dismay through his fingers. It was the kind of noise that suggested he didn't know how to growl in exasperation, so he howled instead. Helsknight, begrudgingly, admitted to himself he was being [a little] harsh. He decided, against his better judgement, to have a little mercy.

"You really want to find Tanguish."

"Yes! Yes I do!" Tango snapped, looking up at him beseechingly. "I mean, is it really that hard to believe you're not the only one who wants him to be safe?"

Helsknight's skepticism must've shown on his face, because Tango let out another of his exasperated, half-syllable noises and ran his hands back through his hair.

"Look, I promise I won't get in your way. And I'll go home the second we find him. I just... I'm worried."

Helsknight sighed and tried his best not to roll his eyes. He crossed the room to where he'd left his cloak, and motioned for Tango to join him. Hesitantly, nervously, Tango stood and waited as Helsknight flung the cloak over his shoulders. It would have been far too long, but he gathered some of the length to turn into a makeshift hood, bunching it awkwardly around Tango's shoulders. It took some folding and some pinning, but after a few minutes, Helsknight stepped back and nodded. It was passable anyway.

"Keep this on while we're in the Colosseum," Helsknight informed him, pulling the hood down low over Tango's face. "With any luck, people will assume you're Tanguish. Or at least that you're supposed to be with me."

"And, uh, if that doesn't work?" Tango asked, his voice pitching the barest bit higher in nervousness.

"We'll burn that bridge when we cross it," Helsknight snorted. He checked one last time to make sure his gear was all in place, and, squaring his shoulders, led the way out and into the cells.

Nobody noticed them leave the cells. Or, at the very least, nobody noticed who Tango was. A few people stopped Helsknight to try and talk, but when he made it clear he had places to be, they let him pass. Helsknight's patience was not a thing anyone wanted to shorten, even those few dangerous people who could probably weather the aftermath.

Soon enough they were walking down the streets of hels, Tango hovering so close to Helsknight's side they occasionally walked into each other. Helsknight wanted to be annoyed. He wanted to be even more annoyed by all of Tango's jabbering. The Hermit would make observations as they walked, pointing at buildings and asking questions that Helsknight rarely deigned to answer.

They weren't here to sight-see. They were here to find Tanguish. So when Tango asked him his twentieth question of the morning [You guys have a working water fountain? How do you have water in hels? Is it an update suppression thing, or does hels have different rules than a standard nether hub?] Helsknight scowled and started walking so quickly, Tango had to jog to keep up with his long strides. Panting, and focused on putting one foot in front of the other without tripping over cobblestones, he couldn't ask any more questions.

[Praise every god and saint in hels.]

Eventually they turned onto the street Helsknight's house was on, and immediately he knew something was wrong. Even from the end of the street, Helsknight could see the front door was open. A cold fist of dread clenched itself in his stomach, and Helsknight ran up the street, Tango protesting as he tried to keep pace.

The house had been ransacked. The door wasn't just open, it had been halfway knocked off its hinges, and the window at the front of the building had been smashed. He hadn't yet stepped inside, but from the red light streaming into the open doorway, Helsknight could see his little dining table and chairs had been knocked over. There was broken glass on the floor, and the pale gleam of metal -- Tanguish's dagger, dropped in a scuffle. There was no blood that Helsknight could see, but that was cold comfort.

"Oh... Shoot." Tango panted, standing beside him. "This is your house?"

Helsknight found himself swallowing past a growing lump in his throat. "Yes."

"Did you... Not go home yesterday?"

"No."

"Shoot." Tango said again, tugging on the edges of Helsknight's cloak nervously. "He left Hermitcraft in the afternoon. Would he-- would he have gone straight to the Colosseum if--"

"Probably."

"So. So this probably happened when he got here," Tango glanced up at Helsknight, gauging the knight's hesitation, and then picked his way cautiously to the door. "Does your house get broken into often?"

"If it did, there would be a lot fewer thieves in this city."

"I'll uh... Take that as a no." Tango stepped gingerly inside, the broken glass crunching beneath his boots. His tail, a liquid, fiery thing like his hair, swept around the floor, glinting off the glass shards like a field of sparks. He picked up Tanguish's knife and flipped it over in his hands, studying it before slipping it onto his belt. "No blood. Obvious signs of a struggle. I mean, he had to have been ambushed right? Otherwise he would've run for it. And they took him alive because, well, I mean, he would've just respawned right?"

The lump in Helsknight's throat got tighter. It was suddenly very hard to breathe.

"Right?" Tango prompted again.

"How much do you know about helsmets? How our respawns work?" Helsknight asked quietly.

"I know respawn is rough for you guys." Tango raised an eyebrow at him. "Or, I assume, I guess. Tanguish seems pretty scared of dying, anyway. And I know you take deaths in the Colosseum very seriously. A lot of warrior culture weirdness stuff."

Helsknight swallowed. The fear of speaking his thoughts out loud grabbed him by the throat and pinned him still. Adrenaline, cold and sourceless, sent ice through his veins. His fist clenched around the hilt of his sword, his instincts as a knight searching for a source for his alarm to fight and dispatch, even when his logical mind knew there was none.

[He didn't want to say it out loud.]

"Sometimes."

Helsknight cleared his throat uncomfortably. He didn't look at Tango. His eyes wandered around the broken glass at the Hermit's feet, watching the flame of his tail glint off the brittle, jagged edges.

"Sometimes."

He swallowed again. He adjusted the buckle on his gauntlet. It suddenly felt too loose around his wrist. He was too vulnerable to talk about this. He needed plate mail, or a helmet. Hels, he needed castle walls and a full garrison.

"Sometimes we... When the universe... We are. Uhm. We're different than--"

He could feel Tango's gaze heavy on him. His skin prickled with the weight of his stare and his own growing, frigid alarm. Something like panic, a rare and terrible beast, was crawling awake in Helsknight's stomach. It gnashed its teeth against his insides, and he felt the desire to laugh, or shout, or throw something, or maybe just throw up in general.

[Don't say it out loud.]

"Tango, sometimes we dont--"

"Well it's about gods-damned time!"

The amount of relief Helsknight felt at the sound of that hostile voice was profound and dissonant, and incredibly welcome. Mostly though, it was an excuse to focus all his pent up fear on something physical he could kill, and he praised every god and saint in hels as he turned to face the newcomers.

A group of four vaguely thug-like helsmets stood in the street less than twenty paces away from him. Helsknight's gaze swept across them, noting their mix-match of leather and gold armor. Two had swords -- gold and iron. One was twirling an axe in her hand in a flourish that was probably supposed to be threatening, but mostly just told Helsknight she'd been practicing axe-flourishes instead of axe-throws. The person who'd spoken, a rather weasely looking thug with a knife on his belt, grinned with glad maliciousness.

"We've been waiting for you to show up, tin can."

Helsknight didn't rise to the [insult?]. It wasn't worth his time. He cast a quick glance in Tango's direction, catching the fading flicker as the Hermit hid somewhere in the house. Good. Helsknight would prefer he not be under foot.

"Who are you?" Helsknight asked coolly, not really expecting a response. He flexed the fingers of his sword hand restlessly, itching to draw his blade. "And what have you done with Tanguish?"

"Come quietly and maybe we'll tell you," the ringleader said, motioning broadly with one hand for his thugs to fan out around him.

The three fighters moved to circle Helsknight, one stopping just in front of the ringleader, while the other two began stalking further up the street. Helsknight did the mental math of four against one, while he was surrounded, and decided he didn't like the odds.

Helsknight attacked before the first swordsman, the one with the golden sword, could pass him. He turned and drew his sword in the same motion, and the strength behind his cleaving overhead strike shattered the softer metal of their blade neatly. His second swing, lightning quick, took them in the throat. He pointed his bloodied sword at the second swordsman, who froze in shock, blade up in a shaking guard position, as they watched their ally fade into twitching death throws.

"Will you make me ask twice?" Helsknight hummed, his voice as level as the point of his sword.

The swordsman's eyes darted over his shoulder. Helsknight frowned, felt more than he heard the approach of something. He ducked and spun, sword arching over his head to catch a weapon strike that instinct told him was coming. There was the loud clash of metal on metal, and when Helsknight straightened, he found two more thugs had joined from... Somewhere. The roof perhaps. Helsknight backed up several steps, trying to keep the entire group in his sight line, and his back to his home. At least with his back to a wall, no one could get behind him. The four with weapons drawn advanced on him slowly, wary of his speed, and the efficiency of his strikes.

"Throw down your weapon, gladiator," the ringleader called to him. "If all you want is to see your friend again, we'll take you right to him." He flashed a wicked grin. "Though we might rough you up a little first."

At that, the axe-weilder leaped forward -- some uncanny sense of Helsknight's, honed for danger, demanded he duck as a whisper of noise hissed by his ear -- and she fell back shrieking, a bloody hole punched in her shoulder. It was only when the arrow cracked against a far wall that Helsknight realized she'd been shot at close range with a very high power bow. Tango leaned through the broken window, a terrified grin on his face, another arrow already knocked.

"Fight fair why don't ya!" He crowed and loosed his second shaft. This one grazed the thug closest to Helsknight, and he used the distraction to ram his sword through their chest.

What followed was a frenzy of breath and movement, seconds that ticked by as ages that he measured in the studied arc of his blade. One thug, then two, then three, scythed down like wheat in a field, crude skill and cruder weaponry breaking against his fortress of an onslaught. It was only when the last one fell that he realized the ringleader was making a run for it. Silent as a breath, Helsknight yanked his knife from his belt, aimed and threw. It hilted itself in the back of the ringleader's left knee, and he fell to the cobblestones howling.

"Holy-- nice shot!" Tango laughed, the high piping sound of the traumatized and terrified. "What are you--? Wait! Helsknight! Wait a tick--!"

Helsknight wasn't listening. He was angry, and the implication that Tanguish was captured somewhere goaded him on like a burning brand between his shoulder blades. There was a very mean little animal of panic in his chest again, warring with the adrenaline of the fight, and he thought, if he had the mind to, he might tear the ringleader in half with his bare hands.

[It would be easy. One hand on the back of the neck, one at the base of the spine. His boots were heavy, and if he planted a few strong kicks at the knuckles of a vertebrae he was pretty sure he could--]

It was a mountain of restraint that made him stoop instead to pick the ringleader up by the collar and slam him into the nearest wall. His head bounced against the bricks behind him and his breath whooshed out of his lungs, leaving him dazed and gasping while Helsknight leaned his full weight into him to pin him still. Not that he was going anywhere fast with a bad knee anyway.

"Talk," Helsknight growled, nearly nose to nose with the thug. "My friend. Where is he."

The thug whined, eyes screwed shut and teeth gritted in pain. "I'm not-- I'm not telling you anything. Y-you're not that scary."

For a very brief moment, Helsknight was so angry he actually did see red. He pulled his gauntleted fist back, fully intent on putting a dent between the thugs eyes -- when Tango leaped up and grabbed his forearm in both hands, dragging it down again.

"Hey! Hermitcraft to Punchy McMurderface!" Tango shouted frantically, clinging to Helsknight's arm for dear life. "Don't do that!"

"Why shouldn't I?" Helsknight snarled, grinding his teeth.

"Because if he's concussed unconscious he can't answer your questions, skippy!" Tango snapped fearfully, flinching back as though he expected Helsknight to punch him instead.

Helsknight, who had been expecting a much more stupid excuse [Something like, "Oh no Helsknight, don't punch the bandit that's mean and icky!" maybe] was momentarily caught off guard by the logical answer. He stood there, glaring down at Tango, panting as the red tinge the world had taken on faded back a bit.

"I'm st-still not answering your stupid questions," the thug sputtered bravely. "If you th-think I'm going to betray my guild--"

Helsknight hissed a breath out through his teeth. He reached for his dagger at his hip-- and remembered he'd already thrown it.

"Besides!" The thug gasped fearfully, realizing, probably, what Helsknight was looking for. "Y-you're a knight right? You've gotta be! No run-of-the-mill gladiator swings a sword like that! Knights don't torture people! It's against your religion or some shit."

Helsknight, whose anger was boiling up his throat again, considered the implications of renouncing his knighthood for one afternoon. Less than an afternoon. Surely it wouldn't take more than an hour to break a few bones. His Saint could only damn him to a lesser ring of hell. Maybe if he explained it was for something very important when he went to confession--

Tango spoke first. "Yeah but, knights are the law, too, aren't they?"

The thug briefly stopped breathing.

"I mean, they're deputized, technically." Tango continued, shoving his hands in his pockets. Helsknight suspected it was so no one could see them shaking. "At least, that's how knights in my world work. And I haven't seen any cops around. So. He's the law right now. And I don't know a lot about hels law, but I know you cut people's hands off around here for stealing things."

Tango looked up at Helsknight. "What do you think, Killer? I mean, technically they stole a person, right?"

Helsknight, despite his current fury and desperation, and despite his fearsome reputation, and despite, even, his ugly thoughts of a few moments ago, was not a torturer. He had inflicted some terrible wounds on people before, some to the point of what he would call cruelty, but never had he drawn a weapon with the explicit aim of causing pain and suffering. It was a line he had never really dared to cross, barring a few very harrowing fights with Wels, when he had flirted with the idea of that danger and eventually stayed his hand. There were some things a man could not do without carving out pieces of his soul in the process, where the gap between thought and action was a chasm, and to cross it was to never return to safety again.

Helsknight searched the darkest parts of himself for the will to remove someone's hand to get information. He searched the darkest parts of himself for the will to torture someone to find out where Tanguish was. A very sick, cold, empty feeling opened up in the pit of Helsknight's stomach. When he looked to the thug again, he had scrubbed himself of anger, and adrenaline, and, he hoped, fear. His expression must have been truly grim, because he watched the thug's face pale fearfully, his pupils pinpricks in too-wide eyes.

Helsknight threw the thug to the ground, forcing Tango to stumble back a few steps to get out of the way. His boot came down on the thug's shoulder, pinning him against the cobblestones. Panicked hands scrabbled at his ankle, nails sliding off the metal of his grieve. Helsknight was reminded of a rat trying desperately to climb out of a well, drowning.

"Hold your arm out, and hold it still," Helsknight said, his voice deathly calm. He leaned more weight into his heel, eliciting a long whine of pain from his captive. "I would hate to miss your wrist, and take your arm off at the elbow instead."

The thug was clearly panicked. Helsknight honestly couldn't blame him. He was very close to panicking himself. He kept shoving his feelings down into that cold empty place in his stomach, and replacing them with the mask he wore when he played the villain in the Colosseum. He quietly, forcefully, informed himself that this was a role he was playing, and like every role, he would play it very well. And then the performance would be over, and he could feel feelings about it then. After the screaming had stopped, and the blood had dried.

Tango had turned his back to him, his hands clasped over his ears. He did not run away. He did not leave. It was a show of solidarity Helsknight neither wanted nor expected, but found himself grateful for anyway.

"Last chance," Helsknight said. He lifted his sword, ready to plunge it down into the outstretched arm. He thought, in the detached way of the horrified, that if he could catch the tip of his sword between the bones of the wrist, that might be the fastest way to... To...

The thug closed his eyes and turned his face away.

Helsknight let out a long, slow breath. He drove the sword down. The thug screamed. The blade cracked against the cobblestones.

There was no blood. There was no dismemberment. The thug had pulled his arm away at the last moment, and clung to Helsknight's boot with both hands, shrieking. Helsknight's ears were buzzing. He couldn't hear what the thug was saying. His heart was racing, and his mind was so terribly, terribly empty. He felt... Numb. It was very hard to keep his sword in his hands.

A hand tapped gently on his arm. Helsknight blinked down at Tango, feeling vaguely like someone was waking him from a nightmare.

"Let me go!" The thug was yelling, scrabbling with renewed vigor against Helsknight's boot. "I told you what you wanted! Let me go!"

"Did you... Catch all that?" Helsknight asked, trying desperately to pluck coherent thoughts from the droning emptiness in his head.

"Sure thing."

[Ah... Good.]

Tango kicked his boot against the thug's side, more a nudge than anything. "Alright. We're going to let you go. Tell your guild boss or whatever that we'll be outside his place tomorrow at noon. Be ready to negotiate or -- uh -- be ready to get dead, I guess."

It was not a threat that would go down in the annuls of history as a great villain monologue, but the thug, shaking and terrified and in pain, took it deadly serious. Helsknight released him, and he hobbled away down the road as fast as he could on a bad leg. They watched him in silence until he disappeared down a side alley, leaving them in an empty street scattered in left over items from the other fallen thugs.

"Tomorrow?" Helsknight asked, his voice sounding very far away in his own ears.

"Today," Tango answered. "Telling them tomorrow makes them think they have time to prepare, and if they're preparing, they're not, you know, hurting Tanguish."

"Ah."

"You alright?" Tango squinted up at him. "You look like you're in shock."

"Mh." Helsknight dropped his gaze to the ground. His dagger had been left behind. He took a step forward... and sank to the ground.

"Woah! Hey, hey! Easy big guy--"

Helsknight found himself on his hands and knees, shaking, smothering under the weight of guilt and his own potential for horror. His head was buzzing again, a nauseating sound like the static of the void. His eyes found his dagger again, and he lunged for it. Moving on something between impulse and habit, driven by guilt and self-disgust, he ripped the blade across his wrist, spilling blood across the ground. With shaking hands he grabbed up his sword and set the tip against the cobblestones, his forehead pressed against the hilt, eyes screwed shut.

"Saint of Blood and Steel," Helsknight breathed, with all the desperation of a sinner crawling to an altar, "forgive me for what I would have done." He pressed his forehead so hard against the cold netherite of the hilt, it hurt. "Please, please, forgive me for what I would have done."

His nose stung with the smell of blood and metal and salt and sealing wax. His mouth tasted like bile, and he could feel every fluttering heartbeat in the cut on his wrist. The buzzing in his head, slowly, slowly, alongside the speed of his racing heart, ebbed. The animal panic curled up in his chest and grumbled as it started to ease itself to sleep. He realized someone was rubbing circles into his back, and whispering at him, and tugging at his hands.

Tango was not trying to be reassuring. At least, he wasn't trying to be reassuring so that Helsknight would be calm. He muttered things under his breath like, "Okay, easy now, no big deal, it's fine," and "Let it go. Nice and easy. Good knight. Scary knight..." The circles he rubbed into Helsknight's back were shaky and awkward, and very clearly a distraction for his other hand, which worked on uncurling Helsknight's fingers from the knife. Helsknight, his exhausted wits finally returning, had mercy on him and released it. Tango snatched up the knife like it were a snake he feared would bite someone. He grimaced at the blood on the blade, and, not knowing what else to do, wiped it off on Helsknight's cloak, before shoving the knife beside Tanguish's in his belt.

"So, just for establishing the rest of this afternoon," Tango said, when he realized Helsknight had come crawling out of his stupor. "Should I be worried about you hurting yourself randomly? Like, does this happen on a regular basis? Do you have triggers I should be making safe words for or--?"

"No." Helsknight said, trying not to feel ridiculous.

"Right. So that was just a one time thing? Because if it's not a one time thing, I'm not judging or anything. But, like, I might recommend seeing a hels therapist or something."

"No I--" Helsknight had no desire to explain that he had a Saint, and that Saint had tenets he'd sworn to, and he had been preparing to go smashing through them like a sledgehammer, mostly because she didn't want to admit it to himself either. He didn't want to admit that he had been on the verge of turning his back on everything that made him himself, because he was desperate and scared, and he didn't want to admit that if he wasn't a knight, he had no idea what he even was at all. Instead he fell back on what the thug had said, because it wasn't wholly true, but it also wasn't a lie. "Knight. Torture. Against my religion. Or. Whatever."

Helsknight leaned on his sword like it was his last hope of salvation.

"Very, very against my religion."

"R-right." Tango put on a complicated expression. The kind of expression one gives when they're realize they're walking on a minefield. "But. You know. You didn't actually torture anyone. Right? So. God can't be mad. So you don't have to slash your wrists for god, right?"

"I would have." Helsknight's eyes found a chipped cobblestone. "If he hadn't moved... I... Would have."

That feeling of frigid dread spidered it's way down his ribs again to pool in his stomach.

"Well. But. But. You didn't." Tango swallowed audibly. "You didn't. And that's what god cares about, right? And, even if god does care, you were following the letter of the law. And if god cares about that too. Uh. God. God can. Take it up? With me."

Helsknight barked a half-hearted laugh. "You going to defend my honor from god, Hermit?"

"Yes," Tango said uncomfortably. "Because I was the one who told you to do it. So. Double damn both of us, right?"

They looked at each other. They looked away from each other.

"Tanguish is going to kill us when he finds out what we did to find him," Helsknight said.

"I won't tell if you don't."

They looked at each other. Tango offered a hand to help Helsknight stand. When Helsknight took it, they grabbed each other's forearms, and it felt uncannily like a pact, or a promise.

"I won't tell if you don't," Helsknight murmured.

Helsknight sheathed his sword, and ran a hand through his hair, trying, with some success, to pull himself back together.

"We should... Get moving." Tango observed, looking up the street.

"I didn't hear a word he said."

"I've got it all up here buddy," Tango said, tapping the side of his head and offering a half-smile that didn't quite make it to his eyes. "So uh... You know anything about a Thief Guild?"

#the barking writer #rns ficlets #rns angst prompts #helsknight #tangotek #tanguish (mentioned)#tw blood #tw violence #part 1 #whatever it was getting long anywag #im not mad it posted youre mad

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loveephia · 2 years ago

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Can you do Bokuto, Tendou Suna, Iwaizumi? So that they see their girlfriend again after she was away for a long time? I love You Work!!💕💕💕💕💕

how some of the HQ boys would react to seeing their girlfriend again after a long time from a business trip. (bokuto, tendō, suna, iwaizumi.)

content: (🦷) tooth-rotting fluff, them being very sulky generally, you guys are married here, suna's is inspired by a scene in the k-drama "true beauty", kita cameo in iwaizumi's, and yes, atsumu says an among us reference.

⚠ warning/s: manga spoilers.

note: THIS REQ WAS SO CUTE WHATATAT@?(# i haven't written for tendō, BUT i love a good challenge. >:3 iwaizumi's ended up being a bit long on accident. 😭 THANK YOU ANON AND ENJOY READING!!!

BOKUTO KŌTARŌ

when you told him you'd be gone for three WHOLE months, his hair just drooped down, the gleam in his eyes are no longer there, and his childish grin is gone.

baby literally gets so sulky about it :(((

"do you really have to?"

HE HAS THE PUPPY DOG EYES AND EVERYTHING STOPPTKEPDK 😭😭😭😭

"believe me, kō. as much as i don't want to stay away for that long, i have to."

every day he wakes up (with his arms around a pillow instead of you), he tries to be optimistic

"another day closer to seeing my wife!"

can't have him messing up at practice yk

but when he finally sees you at the airport, gosh, he's just all smiley about it

he picks you up and spins you around like in the movies

"i missed you so, so, so much!" he's pecking your face all over, ignoring the looks from other people, because hIS WIFE IS BACK 😭😭😭😭

"kō.. people are staring." you giggled

"let them!"

SATORI TENDŌ

"no way—! you gotta be joking!"

HE IS IN UTTER DISBELIEF.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE GOING TO BE GONE FOR THREE MONTHS???

"who's gonna be my taste tester then!?" his voice cracks

the tendō chocolatier business CANNOT FUNCTION WITHOUT IT'S OFFICIAL TASTE TESTER.

before you leave, he gives you a free box of handmade chocolates galore to snack on the plane

and, ofc, a little kiss on the cheek

when you open the box on the plane, there's a little note

"don't eat'em all on one go! love yaaa~ :3" HOW CUTEJKSJDKEJDK

when you're finally back from the trip, you stumble into tendō's arms

"oof—!" he says before patting your head, "there, there, y/n."

SUNA RINTARŌ

"what." he deadpans

"i know.. but i have to—"

"no way. i don't accept this. you're seriously leaving me?" he sounds so offended that people may think you two are fighting.

he pretends to be all mad about it, but you know he's just joking around

so when you're gone, suna has to physically hOLD HIMSELF BACK FROM CALLING YOU EVERY SECOND OF THE DAY

"she wouldn't want a clingy boyfr— husband." he corrects himself

yeah, he calls you anyway.

when you pick up, you say, "hello, my tarō! how are you?" in that sICKENINGLY KIND TONE SUNA HAS OH, SO MISSED 😭😭

you've only been gone for three days

"please come home. i miss you. please." did he just say please twice?

when you're finally home, it takes every inch of sanity left in suna so as not to drag you away for cuddles

the expression on his face tells you everything, and you giggle. "i'll just shower first, then we can cuddle." and his face LIGHTS UP

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

"even oikawa's said some terrible jokes, but this one is by far the worst."

"nope! it's not a joke, baby."

when you're gone, iwaizumi is so upset because you'd usually give him a little kiss goodbye whenever he goes off to work :((

so now he's extra grumpy while coaching the national jpn team.

"oi, hinata! you should've been able to get that one!"

"if you can't hit it right, another hundred laps for you, ushiwaka!"

"suna, stop slacking off, or i'll have that old captain of yours come back and scold you!"

suna knows iwaizumi's threat was only towards him, but that statement got even ATSUMU AND ARAN SHIVERING.

SO THE TEAM IS ALL LIKE "???" BECAUSE WHO PUSHED IWAIZUMI'S BUTTONS SO EARLY IN THE MORNING 😭

"which one of you is it. come on, fess up!" hoshiumi hisses

"i believe bokuto lost iwaizumi's pen the other day." ushijima states

"wow, are we just throwing each other under the bus now?" suna snickers

"it was an accident! i didn't know he'd get this mad about it!" bokuto tried to defend himself, "come on, tell them, atsumu!"

"i was in cafeteria with grey." atsumu lifts both hands up, metaphorically waving the white flag

"you all are insufferable." sakusa groans

you can imagine how confused the team got when after three months, iwaizumi's mood was no longer grouchy since you had finally come home

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storiesofsvu · 1 year ago

Text

Anthony DiNozzo NSFW Alphabet

Anthony DiNozzo x reader warnings; nsfw, sexual situations. a.n: i know some of you have been asking for this and i'm ngl, it's likely not what you expected, but these are my headcanons and what I believe. I think there's a lot of wild opinions out there about this man and we're all entitled to our own lol.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Tony’s generally pretty soft, and pretty wiped. He’ll collapse into the bed, an arm winding around you, encouraging you to nestle into his side while you catch your breath. If it’s more of a casual thing, he’ll likely get at least half dressed, sharing a glass of water with you before he drops your clothes into your lap. (or if he’s at yours, he’ll just get dressed). It’s not too much extra cuddling for the casual partners, he doesn’t want to blur those lines, even if you were already friends.

But if you’re his girlfriend, or he wants that, there’s lots of soft cuddles, his fingers tracing up and down your back, he makes sure you rehydrate, offers up a snack, leftover Thai food in bed kinda thing. A massage is likely part of the foreplay, but a nice warm bath or steamy shower is definitely an aftercare thing for him.

B = Body part (your favourite body part of theirs and theirs of yours)

You love Tony’s shoulders, they’re broad, strong, he’s in good shape and they prove it. He can pick you up and toss you around a bit when he feels like it. You’re also drawn to them after a long day, when you know he’s had a rough go and without a word you’ll wrap yourself around him from behind, holding him for a moment before you start to massage his shoulders.

For him, if it’s a sexual thing, Imma say he’s a boob man. Don’t get me wrong, he loves ass too, but there’s just something about tits that he can’t resist. Not as sexual, he loves your hands, loves the innocent way you pick up one of his hands in yours, tracing patterns, following the lines. He loves to hold you, always grabbing your hand when you’re out on the streets together.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically).

He’s normally one to use condoms, but if it’s an established relationship with another form of birth control he’s all for coming inside you, getting to fuck you bare and really feel everything. It’s primal, it’s intimate, it’s how he feels so utterly connected to you. On the more dirty side of things, he absolutely loves coming in your mouth, whether it was a blow job or after making you come and him pulling out, it drives him wild seeing it painted on your tongue/lips and cheeks while you’re looking up at him with a wild grin.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Honestly, would not put it past this man to be intrigued with pegging.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) He’s got a good level of experience and certainly knows what he’s doing. Some people like to tease that he’s all talk, and if you do, he’s definitely going to show you just how wrong you are, cause he’s great at what he does and takes pride it in, especially with how many orgasms he can give you.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying) Hear me out: missionary or variants on it. He likes to see your face, watch the way it scrunches up, the way your mouth falls open in silent pleasure, watching the way your body twitches and shivers as he fucks you. Positions where he can really get his hands on you, feel your skin on his, play with your tits, have access to your clit, ones that his mouth can latch onto your body, leaving marks so you remember how good he made you feel. He loves to throw a leg or two over his shoulders, able to plunge even deeper into you. Morning sex he loves a good spooning from behind.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I think this one’s pretty obvious, I mean, it’s DiNozzo. He loves to throw a joke or two in there, especially during the foreplay, before or during the time clothing starts to come off. Before he’s completely flustered with just how hot you are, he’s constantly tossing out one liners, using accents/weird voices and the like. And there has definitely been an occasion or two where he made you laugh so hard it put a hard stall on any action happening, but to be completely honest, that just made him love you more.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

This depends on the relationship, if it’s a one night thing, or a friends with benefits, then he holds back the intimacy and keeps that mask up. If you’re someone he loves, then he can really turn it up, candles, tenderness, showing you just how much he loves and cares about you through physical affection.

J = Jack off (masturbation head canon)

Weekly at minimum, likely in the shower for easy clean up. If it’s been a long/stressful week he’s likely to self indulge, especially to help him sleep at night.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He’s into the role play aspect, loves to go out pretending you’ve never met and face the “challenge” of picking up someone new, throwing in some new tricks and the like. There’s likely some more themed looks, not necessarily full blown costumes, but the aspect of getting to be someone you’re not kinda thing. He likes to make you come, so overstimulation is definitely gonna be on this list too.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

Any surface in his/your apartment. Bedroom, couch, the cushioned bay window sill (at night, likely by candle light so no one can actually see in, but the risk factor still plays), bent over the kitchen counter, in the shower, you can bet you’re going to christen every surface in the place.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

To put it simple: you. Doesn’t matter if you’re dolled up with a full face of make up and your hair done, ready for a fancy date night, in a new lingerie set you bought just to torment him, or if you’re in one of his t-shirts and your faved cotton panties on a cozy, lazy Sunday, every single one of them will get him going and he can’t keep his hands off you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything with extreme bondage or any level of pain past a hand spanking. He’s seen a lot of really dark stuff in that realm while at work/on the job and a: doesn’t ever want to hurt you, or b: bring back any dark thoughts, especially while in the bedroom. He wouldn’t ever hurt you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Absolutely loves both.

You cannot tell me he doesn’t adore eating pussy and we both know that he’s fucking incredible at it. He’ll happily bury himself between your legs for as long as you’ll let him, especially if he knows you were having a bad day, he’ll eat you out for hours.

The days when you call him into the bedroom looking all seductive on your knees with that little smirk on your lips are the days he just can’t get his pants undone fast enough. He’s never one to do the “downward shove” and he’ll rarely ask for blowjobs, but fuck does he ever love it when your lips wrap around his cock and you encourage him to thrust into the back of your throat.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Bit of both. Depends on the situation, depends on if it’s a quickie or not. If there’s not a lot of time, if it’s a sneaky bathroom hook up it’s gonna be fast. If he’s about to leave for a longer case/UC case, it’s going to be slow, sensual he’s going to take all the time he can to admire every inch of your body before he has to go.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Loves ‘em. Sometimes you’re ready for date night and he knows he needs to have you *now* and you’re not gonna complain about him ruining your lipstick cause you know he’s gonna make it up to you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s up for experimenting, playing around with kinks and the like, but he’s not super risky. He’s got a reputation/career to think about so certain things are just out of question from the start.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This man can go for round after round. He’s well aware that he might not be able to fuck you over and over again, but he can easily use his mouth, fingers, or pull out a toy to taunt you with while he recovers. And he’s never going to complain when you start to jerk him off or go down on him to help things along.

When it comes to how long he lasts, it kinda depends on the situation, how long its been, how utterly turned on he is, but he’ll always make sure you finish, multiple times.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He owns accessories; blind folds, maybe some silk ties to bind your hands together, some kind of pinwheel/pleasure wheel, while he doesn’t like lots of pain, he’s into sensation play, temperature play, things to spice things up without hurting anyone. Once he’s with someone, he’ll learn what they like, check out their collection, have a conversation about toys and likely invest in a couple that they like, he knows that a vibrator isn’t competition, it’s a helping hand in the bedroom, whether he’s there or not. And then there’s the added benefit of him getting to say “well… show me how you use it when I’m not around” and watching you get yourself off.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s not the biggest sexual tease. He likes to tease about sexual things outside of the bedroom, make little comments in front of mutual friends about your sex life (nothing that would ever offend you, they might turn your cheeks hot, but he always knows you’re okay with sharing that information). He’s also the one who will likely take bets on sports games, trivia nights and the like, and the loser owes the other head at the end of it. When it comes to actually being in the bedroom, he struggles to keep his hands off you, he’s the bratty one, so you’re likely not the one getting punished.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not overly loud, more groans and grunting, swearing, soft mutters of “god that feels good” “fuck, don’t stop” “that’s my girl…”

W = Wild card (a random head canon for the character)

He’s not afraid of subbing. While he’s pretty dominant most of the time, like I said earlier, he’s the fucking brat. And he’ll act up on purpose on nights when he knows you’re more likely to get annoyed, casting him a warning glance of “you’ll pay for this later” and it will only egg him on more. He’s never opposed to being teased and edged and loves seeing you take control in the bedroom.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I don’t think I even need to explain this. He’s thick, big enough, not huge to cause pain, but a bit larger than average.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not as intense as you would think with all of his quips and the like, he likely jerks off at least once a week, has his favourite porn sites/stars. If he’s with someone, there’s sex at least once a week if not more, and he loves a good lazy Sunday where you don’t even get out of bed, fucking all day.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Unless he’s completely wiped, he’s almost always the second person to fall asleep. He likes to know that you’re taken care of, that you’re comfortable and safe. He’ll slip out of the bed, making sure you’re warm and tucked in before getting you a full glass of water on the nightstand, that your phone is plugged in and alarms are set and ready for the next day. He’ll slip back under the covers and pull you into his arms, watching you sleep with a soft smile on his face as his fingers trace the curve of your lips, your jawline with a feather light touch before he finally falls asleep.

____________________

@fandom-princess-forevermore @cabotfan42 2 @alexxavicry @rainbowelshrhian @princessgemini98 @m00nkn1ghts @supercriminalbean @hbkswife @onmykneesformarvel @kmc1989 @happygirl-0408 @prentiss-theorem @boimlers-gonna-boim @tinyprettyangel @happygirl-0408 @winchesterbeau

#ncis #anthony dinozzo #anthony dinozzo x reader #anthony dinozzo headcanons #tony dinozzo #tony dinozzo x reader

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kazuyakun · 9 months ago

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In a Relationship | Miyuki Kazuya

Pairing: Miyuki Kazuya x Reader.

For a while I was stuck on Miyuki's character, but I think I've been able to figure him out a bit lol.

-Miyuki relies on trust. He just wouldn't be in a relationship with someone that he doesn't know well or trust. It takes him a while to truly open up and be genuine, and he just wouldn't do that with a person he feels he can't trust.

-It does take him a while to feel comfortable. But the chances are, if he's dating you then he's already thought about various things in depth, like if he's ready for that and he feels he can devote himself to a relationship.

-He's very passionate with everything that he does so that translates to relationships as well. While baseball is always his priority, his relationship would be too. He'd be busy a lot but I think that he'd be the person to make sure you always feel loved.

-Things like texting brief messages throughout the day updating you on his day and asking about yours, sending a dumb meme or gif so that you know he's thinking about you and making sure you eat.

-He doesn't have a lot of time to cook because he's busy practicing but he'll at least prep the meal.

-He's not exactly a big fan of PDA but not entirely against it. If he's joking around, it'd be easier for him to be a bit more affectionate around other people. Like a kiss on the cheek, ruffling your head, or even tickling you to annoy you.

-He can be extremely blunt. So you can always expect him to keep it real with you. He tells the whole truth, and in the process he may hurt your feelings with it. If he does, then he'll apologize awkwardly and in his own way.

-Miyuki is very sarcastic so he'd like if you can bite back.

-For affection in general, he enjoys cuddling. He gives good hugs but sometimes likes to be dramatic and joke around, like slumping on you or not hugging you back completely. If you go to kiss him he might make a sarcastic comment like "ooh cooties" but once he's done laughing it off he'll give you a real kiss.

-When it comes to relationship things, he can be a bit lost though. Mostly from inexperience. He looks at it like goals, and plans effectively. So he always remembers important dates and things you've told him but when it comes to romance then he's a bit lost. Research will be his best friend with that and every once in a while a spontaneous and special date might occur.

-But he really enjoys quality time the most. He's always watching baseball, and when you're there to watch it with him it makes him happy. If you don't know much about it, then he'll take the time to explain the game. He always talks about game calling and everything and it makes him happy if you're listening.

-It's been said he talks a lot when happy, so just expect him to be yapping about anything when he's around you. It can be random like his point of view on things, or a bit deeper like his plans for the future.

-Would like if you have your own hobbies too. He likes being intrigued and interested. So if you have something you're passionate about then he'll watch you and ask you questions about it.

-A good kisser. He puts his all into it. When he's kissing you or doing things for you it's because he wants you to know that he values you. He's not the best with voicing his vulnerabilities and inner emotions, so that's the best way to show you.

#Miyuki Kazuya #Miyuki #Kazuya #Miyuki x reader #Miyuki kazuya x reader #Kazuya x reader #Daiya no ace #Ace of the diamond #Daiya no ace x reader

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oneshlut · 1 year ago

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Could you possibly do some hcs for Jax with a s/o that's a tsundere at times and he finds their reactions to his teasing amusing? (If you don't know what that is defined as a term used to describe a person or character who swings between emotionally hot and cold, in particular when dealing with a love interest. Especially used to describe someone who is usually cold or cranky but occasionally shows a soft, kind, mushy side.)

A/N: yesyes! i know how much you folks love flirty/teasing jax, and i am here to feed you all. eat up my little weirdos😋

Lovingly Hated (Jax x Tsundere!Reader) [Headcanons]

Rules For Requesting

Characters I Will Write For

Masterlist

Summary: Headcanons of a flirty Jax with a tsundere S/O, how Reader reacts to his teasing

Oh, when I say he makes fun of you, he makes fun of you. Nothing amuses him more than making you mad, irritated, or just generally pushing buttons. I feel like we've gone over this many times before, but yes, he's a total asshole. Never too mean to you, though.

When he eventually gets with you, (how that happened is another story), he realizes you get irritated not just by him being a dick. Rather, being the opposite. Seems like you get flustered by just the slightest bit of flirting. And he teases you relentlessly.

Jax is always up for good comedy. Why not make his own? To him, you're his own personal amusement. Yes, he still views you as a person, with feelings and all that jazz. But he's not just about to pass up this opportunity. After all, you just looked so cute, getting all flushed and defensive.. he couldn't help himself!

So, despite your many protests, he continued to tease you. Even if you stated how much you hated him, and even told him to his face how huge of an asswipe he was, the slightest glint of a dorky grin gave it all away. Jax could see through you like glass.

On this subject, he never gets hurt at your remarks or denying of feelings. Again, he can see right through you, so putting up a facade in front of him is a bad idea unless you want to be joked about it to your grave. Honestly, Jax finds himself enlightened at the scowling look on your face, because he knows--even as much as you try to refuse it--you love him. And here returns the strange feeling in his digital stomach.

Will call you cute little nicknames just to see your reaction. Some examples being: Sweetheart, Cutie, Sugar, Love/Lovely, Sunshine or Sunflower, Angel, all that jazz. And yet, that's just the tip of the iceberg. Though, one that Jax notices that you favor, is Darling. He makes sure to use that one more than the others. His personal favorite, though, is sweetheart. It always seems to make you stumble.

If nothing else, you were one of Jax's favorite people. That thought made you lightweight. But, god, if you ever admitted you enjoyed his company, you wouldn't hear the end of it. You hardly ever showed him your mushy-gushy side, since you had hated getting so open and vulnerable. Normally, when you did eventually get soft, he had teased you about it. But he knows when and when not to joke about things with you.

Sometimes? He's completely incapable to joke. If you're irritated and tough part of you managed to slip away, and you had told him how you genuinely loved him in a heartfelt way.. Jax would crash.

Jax is more of someone to give affection rather than take it, so if you hugged him, held his hand, or, you know.. kissed him, he wouldn't be able to handle it and would just freeze up on the spot. But, of course, Jax still teased you about it afterwards.

Days will go by where you just fight back and forth like children. You'd deny your feelings for him, and he'd tease you about it. Over and over and over again. Kind of like a 'nuh-uh', 'yeah-huh' situation.

Jax himself doesn't like to get sentimental. If he's gonna show you in any way that he likes you, he's gonna do it by flirting playfully until you get sick of it and just say you like him. He'll say something like: 'Don't worry, I like ya too', then walk away, leaving you slightly befuddled and warm.

He may tease and flirt all the time, but know that Jax genuinely loves you. He loves the way you fight and tease back, he loves your reactions, he loves everywhere that you go. Not like he'd admit it or anything.

But, if there's anyone you're gonna get with, I'd be surprised if you choose Jax. Because believe me, around here, Valentines Day is treated like another April Fools.

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callofdudes · 9 months ago

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I've got a pride month request coming along as well, I'm just getting lots of writing juices back. So don't mind me, sorry, a little "fun" mental health post. Don't take all of this as 100% as I'm not a mental health professional but I do study psychology for leisure.

Dissociation and indifference.

While able to crack jokes and engage with others, he's generally learned to keep his hands out of hot water, and if he does, he doesn't show that it burns him. On top of many mental health medications causing fatigue, distance, and emotional lows, Ghost does his best not to express the stress that work brings to him. Which is something that can be seen either as a strong male role model, or the less healthy version, evasion of one's emotional needs over physical.

Let's be honest, Ghost spends most of his time in the gym rather than talking to a therapist. And while working on yourself physically can be a breath of fresh air, sometimes it's good to let the mind breathe too.

It takes him a lot of time to open up. For a lot of people, recognizing that trust is trust no matter how close you are to the person. Ghost's lack of trust does not distinguish between blood or friend. It has to be him that makes that step, but it's working through the indifference that helps get to the core of his pain. As indifference to topics like mental health discussions can be a coping mechanism against how one feels.

"Simon, can I get you some tea?" You asked when you looked over at him and saw him sitting silently on the couch. He rubbed his knuckles as he stared at the wall, then shrugged.

"Are you hungry?"

Another shrug. "Depends what you're making." He finally responded, deadpan and unenthusiastic. You frowned softly and decided to make him some tea. Soon heading to the couch, you set down the cup and sat next to him.

You quietly relaxed. "Would you like to talk about anything?" You knew you had to let Simon come to you. It was difficult, but extending that offer and reassuring him you were there was always the first step.

He was quiet for a moment. "No."

"Ok... When you're ready." You gently rubbed his shoulder. You relaxed next to him and turned on the tv. The faint glow of the passing frames flashed against his pupils but his reactions to it were minimal.

After some time, he reached for the tea and took some sips. "Y/n...?" He shifted slightly.

You looked over at him and nodded.

"Can we... Talk about something?"

You paused the movie and shifted to sit facing him some more, giving him your attention. "Of course, what do you need to talk about?"

His shoulders relaxed slightly at the reciprocation, and slowly brought his needs and feelings out, letting you see the inner workings for a little bit. And you listened.

Dramatic emotional switches.

Sometimes this is harder to analyze or to catch, but this can be a sign of stress or like indifference, a cherry aversion to the hectic world around us.

While this can absolutely just be someone's nature, mental health is most times disguised within layers of regular everyday emotion that not even the person doing it may realize.

I think Johnny's cheerfulness comes from his nature, but under stressful circumstances it can come out as a way of attempting to feel in control of his hectic environment. We don't see this often, but it is common amongst individuals struggling with stress and anxiety.

But after these stressful happy sprints, it can lead to an emotional low due to stress catching up, or being too much to ignore and push aside. Leading to days of not feeling happy at all. Common themes of depression can be random emotional highs, followed by feeling like the world is horrible and you'd rather die than do anything else.

Like with Ghost, this can absolutely be a character trait to boost morale in friends, not wanting to see them fall into the emotional state they are wishing to ignore. During work, Johnny comes off as a strong and intelligent role model, and I think he knows how to distinguish work and personal life better than the others. Willing to confront the bulk of his feelings and stress when in an environment where he doesn't feel the need to constantly be the last line of morale.

It had been a while since you'd seen Johnny. You'd recently come back from a pretty excruciating mission and you couldn't blame him for wanting rest. When dinner rolled around you headed to his room and knocked. "Johnny?"

A minute of silence before Johnny perked up. "Come in."

You shifted the door and headed inside to see him relaxing on his bed with his sketchpad. "Hey y/n." He smiled warmly, sharing his warm presence with you.

"Heh Johnny, food is out in 20, guy hungry?"

"Yeah! I'll be out in a bit. I've just gotta finish this drawing."

"Cool, can I have a look?"

He hesitated slightly, then nodded, his smile returning. "Yeah sure." He sat up and let you come over and see his sketchbook. You looked down at the drawing and smiled softly. "I keep forgetting you're so good at that."

He looked up at you, the smile on his lips not fully translating to the lost expression behind his eyes.

You looked at him, and gently touched his shoulder. "You good? I know you had a close call, even if the medics said you were good."

"Yeah, I'm feeling good. A little sore, but it comes with the territory." He closed his sketchbook.

A moment of silence came between you two, and the look you gave him made tears spill into his eyes. "Johnny..." You opened your arms.

Johnny hesitated before hugging you tightly. You held him back, gently stroking his back. "You're ok... We're all ok." You assured him as his tears wet your shoulder. "You did amazing.."

Johnny let out the burst of emotion, finally allowing himself to come down from that false high, and rest in the knowledge that he was ok here.

Overworking, trouble distinguishing work from personal life.

Price has a tendency to overwork himself when he's feeling stressed or agitated. Oftentimes indulging in one or more cigars to momentarily get a hit of relief for a much more extensive problem. When growing up with role models that pushed for perfection and hard work it can make it hard to distinguish the stresses of work from personal life. Price ends up taking a lot of the work stress home, and vice versa.

This can lead to him feeling even more stressed or striving to trap the things going on around him in both personal and professional settings under his thumb. Burying himself in his work can help him feel like he's being productive or that he has control over what happens in that space.

He's constantly reassuring his team, as captain even if he feels out of control it's his job to keep his head on and make sure his team feels like he has both hands on wheel, which can be stressful. Over time this is a tactic that has been branded into his behaviour and he is always doing this.

In his home life this can affect how he acts in the home, including feeling a need to take control more often to feel that people he loves in his environment are properly taken care of.

This can also lead to his underlying anger and tendencies to push down his frustrations and work it out through physical activity or cussing at a wall until he's tired. But, also not the type of person to go to therapy about this, as he may not even realize it's a problem if it's so deep in his routine.

You leaned on the doorframe of Price's study as he worked away. He'd had dinner in there, and the plate was still stacked on the edge of the desk where he'd mentally told himself he would take it back.

"You doing ok, John?" You asked, and walked over to him.

"Mhm. Got stuff to do for Laswell..."

"Important report?"

He shrugged. "Something like that. Just need a bit. I'll come away soon."

You nodded and gently rubbed his shoulder. "Well, don't work yourself stiff, ok?"

He nodded after a moment, his eyes not leaving his computer. You didn't say anything else and left him to his work. Around an hour later you came back. "How's it coming?"

"Mm... More stuff to finish." He muttered, still glued to the screen.

"It can wait, you're off duty... I'm sure Laswell knows that."

This time Price didn't respond, and you knew you needed to step in. "John." You came over and gently touched his shoulder. Finally, he looked up at you, searching your eyes for anger.

You gently squeezed him. "Why don't we play a game together?" You gave him a soft smile, and his shoulders tempted to give way under your touch.

"Why?"

You gently took his hat off and brushed his hair away. "Because, I know you need to do something, so come do something with me. I want to spend time with you."

He leaned slowly into your touch, allowing you to close his laptop. "Can I pick the game?"

"You know you can."

Price stood and you wrapped your arms around him, and he hugged you back. "We can do this together, you're home..."

Mistrust, underlying frustration and vocal outbursts.

Life can be extremely stressful in their line of work and from my perspective, this shows in Gaz's contrast between his calm collected nature and the vocal outbursts he has. This is no doubt because of stress and building frustration that he is struggling to control.

His mistrust in authority or inability to understand or rationalize his surroundings can lead to these outbursts. Kyle's calm and collected side is something to be desired, but when he's alone and has nothing to focus on, that anger can quickly turn unchecked. Whether it be beating a punching back or spending most of his time angrily analyzing interactions or comebacks to conversations in his head for hours.

It's a constant loop, while working, while trying to relax, he's always got an interaction that irritated him running through his head. Or feeling like he isn't smart enough because he couldn't come up with the answers for the conversation at that moment.

Kyle was beating himself up. He felt like such an idiot. I had the bastard right in his hands. He frowned, throwing another furious kick at the punching bag. "Bloody- stupid bastard!" He ground his teeth angrily.

By that point his frustration was obvious. You went over to check on him. "Everything ok, Kyle?"

"I fucking had him!"

You nodded a little. "Hey, can't blame yourself, we all have mishaps."

"Not this time." He said with exasperation. "I had him right there! I had him in my hands! And he still got away..."

You reached over and gently took his arm. "Kyle,"

He moved away, but you gently touched him again. "Kyle, look at me, please."

He exhaled heavily and looked at you, the frustration evident. "I know it's frustrating. But we'll get him. We always do."

"I know..." He hung his head. "I wish I could have done more... The look on the captain's face.."

You gently took his hand and squeezed it. "You're strong, Kyle. You're the best of the best." You gently rubbed his knuckles. "But even the best of us make mistakes, and mess up. You don't have to worry about being perfect."

He blinked, his frustration filtering out from anger, to tears. "Bloody... Hell.."

"Can I give you a hug? You look like you need one."

His shoulders dropped, and with that you gently hugged him. "We'll get him... I promise. But we aren't pinning this on you, ok?"

He squeezed you, a tear rolling down his cheek. You'd stand there as long as he needed, as long as he knew the weight wasn't on him to be the perfect soldier.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #captain john price #ghost x reader #call of duty headcanons #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick #john price headcanons #captain john price x reader #john mactavish headcanons #john mactavish x reader

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fr3sh-tragedies · 6 months ago

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Headcanons

[Inside Out 2] Valentina [Val] Ortiz x Female Reader

Summary: General and romantic headcanons for Val with a female S/O.

Word Count: 1.87k Content + Warnings: None Category: Fluff + Slight Angst || Headcanons + Drabble

[A/N]: Not sure if I'm going to write consistently for her since she got so little screentime and we know very little about her, but I did want to at least share headcanons and a small drabble.

Enjoy!

General

Generally laid back and extremely kind-hearted, Val is usually the one her friends rely on for advice, comfort, and support

She has a cool temper, and it’s hard to get her genuinely worked up over something

She trusts most people easily because they trust her easily

She has a very open personality and welcoming nature, so it’s not hard for people to let their guard down around her once they’ve known her for a short while

On top of being trusting towards other people, she’s also trustworthy herself

Any secrets or issues someone decides to share with her stay with her. They don’t leave her and make it to anyone else unless said person explicitly says it’s okay to share what they’ve said

Val is an extremely patient person, especially when it comes to her friends and family

She tends to keep an open mind about everything and never shames others for the things they enjoy, so long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else

In regards to those she’s close to, she can be very teasing and often jokes around about the smallest things

Because of how much she trains and competitively plays hockey, I have no doubt that she’s got a bit of muscle

She’s definitely lean, but I’m sure in real life she’d have a decent amount of muscle, especially in her arms and legs

Aside from hockey, I can see her having other aspirations and hobbies

While exercising, she’d probably like to listen to music, specifically old bands she used to like listening to in middle school and the beginning of high school

This interest in old music was sparked to life again after meeting Riley and talking about “Get Up and Glow”

On top of this, I can see her listening to podcasts while studying, especially ones that revolve around her interests – mainly hockey

I also like to think she enjoys video games, even if she’s not the one playing them

There isn’t a specific category of games that she prefers. She enjoys them all

We saw it in the movie: this girl is extremely friendly with others

She likes making sure others feel secure around her, and her Wiki page literally says one of her main dislikes is peer pressure, so she makes an effort to be accepting of almost everyone

It deeply concerns her when she takes notice of people not taking care of themself, so she’s quick to offer any help she can

She’s extroverted, and often encourages other people to try stepping out of their comfort zone when it’s necessary

She’s a kind, confident, caring person who just wants to see the best in others, though she isn’t one to shy away from standing up for other people or herself

Romantic

Love language (receiving) would absolutely be quality time, and likely words of affirmation as well

Love language (giving) would be a mix between three: quality time, words of affirmation, and physical touch

She enjoys getting to spend time with you whenever she can. Whether you’re joining her team during one of their hangouts or not, she wants to be with you

Her favorite thing is seeing you smile or fully brighten up the room when she compliments or encourages you somehow, so she makes sure to do it often

She’s not touch-starved, but does enjoy physical contact and affection, which is clear throughout the movie as she does things such as draping her arm around someone, standing shoulder to shoulder, and bumping people with her shoulders and hands

If you’re someone who loves physical affection, you don’t necessarily have to ask for her to provide it

She can read you like a book, so she’s almost always able to tell when you’re wanting her near you

Need a hug? She’s there

Want to cuddle? Her arms are pulling you to her in an instant

Craving a kiss? She’s leaning in regardless of where you are or who’s around

Even if you aren’t directly asking for her touch, it’ll be there. During hangouts – or even out in the hallways – she’ll have her arm draped around your shoulders or waist, or have her hand resting on the small of your back

If you’re someone who prefers to have your own space most of the time, she’ll respect it 100%, only stepping over that occasionally if she’s genuinely worried something’s wrong. She’ll hold you close to her and try to get you to talk to her about whatever is troubling you, then she’ll let you go once you calm down

She’ll still stay near you, but she’ll give you your space again

If you have a hard time initiating or expressing your want for some kind of touch, she’ll simply ask you or encourage you to either explain what you’re wanting or show her, assuring you that she won’t judge you for it

I can’t decide whether or not she’d have any proper relationship experience considering how devoted she is to hockey, as well as the fact she’s only 17-18, but from how she treats others throughout the film, I think she would be a great partner. She’s shown to be kind, empathetic, and patient with others, and she doesn’t shy away from standing up for people

Gifts from her aren’t necessarily common, but they aren’t rare either. She’ll take her time when picking out a gift for you, wanting it to be meaningful and special

She thanks you plenty of times if you give her a gift because she wants you to know that she truly does appreciate it, even if it’s something small

Arguments aren’t very common with her due to her open-minded nature, but even when they happen, they aren’t harsh and often they’re not over something serious. I can see her having playful arguments with you more than anything, solely because of her more laid back attitude

However, she isn’t one to hesitate to put her foot down if things get aggressive. She’ll defuse the situation or step away from it until you’re both able to think with a clear mind. Her moral and core beliefs are strong, so even while she tends to be open-minded with others, there are certain times where she won’t put up with it

She’s often the one who cheers people up. Because of her protective and caring nature, she often stands as an emotional pillar for others and will happily help them through whatever is troubling them

There’s no exception for this with her partner. She’ll often check in on you, even if you’re having a good day, and will consistently give words of encouragement to help boost your confidence

Regardless of what’s going on in her own life, she’ll always be a shoulder to lean on if you need it

Dates are a weekly thing at the very least. She adores getting to spend time alone with you, and dates are the easiest way to do so

While most of the time she’ll invite you over to stay the night and do simple things such as watching a movie or ranting about whatever comes to mind, other times she’ll take you out to restaurants, arcades, carnivals, libraries, cafes, or anything that she thinks you’d enjoy

Now, during most instances, she isn’t one to show off. She enjoys impressing you, but she often gets too absorbed in what she enjoys to think about showing off – namely hockey

There are times here and there, however, where she might do something slightly flashy during practices, even though she earns teasing from her teammates about it. She always shrugs them off with a smile, though. She knows they like you and mean well

Overall, she’s a patient, kind, and understanding partner, and she’ll do everything she can to make sure you know just how much she loves and cherishes you

Like she did just about every weekend, Val had invited you over to stay the night, and just like you did every weekend, you said yes. You had arrived at her house a few hours prior and were now sitting with her on her bed, rambling on and on about one of your latest obsessions. You hadn’t realized that you weren’t really letting her get a word in, but she didn’t mind. She always enjoyed listening to you talking so passionately about the things you enjoyed, and just looking in her direction confirmed that.

As you waved your hands around with each word, you failed to take notice of how she moved to lie down beside you, head resting in her hand. Soon, after recalling all you had said, you paused and let out a small, sheepish “oh.” You turned to her, ready to apologize for your endless blabbering about your interest. You froze, however, upon seeing the way pure love, care, and admiration filled her eyes as she gazed up at you, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Shyly, you smiled. “Sorry,” you still managed to blurt out. She shook her head and waved your small apology off. “No, don’t be,” she replied just as softly. “I love hearing you talk. Plus, you always have this beautiful little smile when you’re talking about things you like.”

Face reddening with her words, you scratched lightly at the back of your neck. “Are you sure you don’t mind? I don’t want to annoy you.” She rolled her eyes with a smirk. “You could never annoy me.”

Wordlessly, she patted the spot in front of her, inviting you to lie down as well. You did so and gazed over at her for a while. “So what happened next?” She asked, already settling back against her pillows to relax as she listened to you. Gleefully, you started up again on your rambling, excitedly explaining the things you liked and disliked as she stayed there, studying every little crease in your features as you smiled and laughed and talked.

Regardless of how long you continued to talk, there was no doubt that she was hanging on to every word. She chimed in here and there to solidify the fact she was following along, asking genuine questions and keeping notes of how you reacted to certain details.

As you finally ran out of the things to talk about, you fell silent, expecting to see her asleep beside you. When you turned and rolled back onto your side, you instead found her staring softly back over at you, that small smile gracing her lips never faltering. You grinned back, taking note of how her pupils were blown with love as she focused entirely on you. For her, you were the only thing she cared about in that moment.

She adored the sight of you in front of her.

She adored the feeling of you when she reached out to pull you into her chest.

She adored the almost intoxicating scent that greeted her when your body met hers.

She adored hearing you murmur a few smaller details you had forgotten to mention.

She adored the way your fingers traced out random patterns against her back.

She adored the way you were always there for her, how you never judged her once, how you gave her all your love and trust. She adored you, and only you.

#fluff #x reader #female reader #inside out 2 #valentina ortiz #val ortiz #val ortiz x reader #val ortiz x female reader #valentina ortiz x reader #valentina ortiz x female reader #inside out val

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