#i just need to... calm down not too many scenes alright now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thewulf · 15 days

Text

Beneath the Healer's Touch || Azriel

Summary: Request - I was wondering if you could write an ACOTAR fic with Azriel as the reader’s mate where the reader is Madja’s apprentice, but she rarely ever asks her to personally treat their patients, like she’s just there to assist with the equipment and materials and stuff and the IC never really questioned it... Read Rest Here

A/N: Wasn't planning on putting two Az fics out in a row but I just had to write this. Love it so much, thank you for the requests :)

Pairing: Azriel x Female Reader (Night Court Healer Reader)

Word Count: 5.6k +

TW: Use of Magic (fluffy), yelling

You huddle against the rough fabric of the medical tent situated perilously close to the front lines. As Madja’s apprentice your role in the Night Court has always been subdued. Your presence nearly as invisible as the shadows where you often stand. A shy but observant female fae, you’ve adapted to watching and learning. You assisted with the preparation of healing instruments and materials rather than engaging in the direct act of healing itself. Madja, the seasoned healer you serve under has never asked you to step beyond these boundaries . That was until today.

Outside of the tent the clash and clamor of war reverberate through the air. A constant reminder of the stakes at play. Inside the tent the atmosphere is thick with the scent of blood and herbs being punctuated by the groans of soldiers bearing the fresh scars of battle. Each day the flow of injured warriors increases, overwhelming even Madja’s formidable skills.

Her usual calm efficiency begins to wane under the strain. Her movements growing more frantic as she tries to attend to multiple critical cases simultaneously. The limited space of the tent is filled with the wounded and the air is heavy with desperation and the iron tang of blood.

Seeing the desperation in Madja's eyes as she struggles to keep up you begin to feel the weight of every unattended soldier pressing down upon you. Your hands which were so accustomed to organizing and managing the background needs itch to do more — to heal and to help directly.

In a moment of sheer necessity Madja turns to you with a look of grave urgency. "I need you now, more than ever," she says over the din of suffering. Her voice thick with exhaustion. "You must help me heal them. We are losing too many. I have called for more help, but I need you today."

As the urgent call pierces through the chaotic sounds of the medical tent you look into Madja’s eyes feeling the weight of her plea. Your heart races but your response is calm and resolute. “I’ll do it,” you say quickly. The words almost catching in your throat.

Madja reaches out, her hand briefly squeezing yours. A gesture laden with both gratitude and apology. “I’m sorry to ask this of you,” she murmurs as her voice laced with regret as she glances at the wounded waiting for attention.

You shake your head dismissing her concerns with a small, reassuring smile that you hope masks your nervousness. “It’s alright, Madja. I’ll be okay,” you assure her while stepping closer to the first of many soldiers who need your help. Your voice is stronger than you feel, imbued with a determination that you muster from the depths of your commitment to heal. Despite the personal cost.

With a deep, steadying breath you prepare yourself for the task ahead knowing each healing touch will draw the pain into your own body. But in this moment of desperate need your resolve is unwavering. You are ready to face whatever comes for the sake of those who depend on you.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you step forward. Your usual place behind the scenes abandoned for the harsh reality of frontline medical work. You approach the first soldier laid out before you. His injuries severe and daunting. As you extend your hands to begin the healing a part of you recoils knowing the personal cost you will soon pay. With a deep breath you brace yourself against the incoming tide of pain that will transfer to you as you heal him accepting the burden as the price of your newfound duty.

In the stifling heat of the medical tent, you move from one soldier to the next. Your hands becoming conduits of both healing and suffering. The first soldier’s injury—a deep gash across his arm—closes under the gentle press of your palms but the sharp sting of the wound sears through you as if the blade had cut into your own flesh. You stifle a gasp, biting down on your lip to keep composed as the pain lingers. It was a cruel echo of the soldier's relief.

With each healing the burden grows heavier. A fractured leg brings an ache that settles deep into your bones making you falter for a moment as you steady yourself against a tent pole. A burn from a fire spell sends waves of searing heat coursing through your skin. You struggle to maintain the calm exterior expected of a healer. Despite the agony each touch brings you press on being driven by the urgent need around you.

The soldiers were unaware of the cost you pay with each healing thank you with weak smiles and hoarse words of gratitude. You return their thanks with nods and a faint smile making sure to hide the toll their pain exacts upon you.

Throughout all of this the Inner Circle is embroiled in their own battles too consumed by strategic planning and counterattacks to notice the quiet suffering of Madja’s apprentice. They see you sometimes as a fleeting figure moving among the cots, but the depth of your sacrifice remains unseen being masked by the chaos of war and the stoic mask you wear.

The pain accumulates as a collection of injuries that are not your own yet reside within you. As the day wears on you feel yourself weakening. The physical costs of your hidden ability dragging at your limbs making each step heavier. Each breath shallower. Still, you continue, the need to help, to heal, pushing you beyond your limits. The cries of pain are a call you cannot ignore even as each healing tears a little piece from your own reserves of strength.

In the privacy of brief moments alone when you can lean against the cool canvas of the tent and close your eyes, the reality of your situation presses close, intimate, and overwhelming. How long can you sustain this? The question haunts the back of your mind, but you push it away instead focusing on the faces of those you’ve saved on the necessity of your pain for their relief. This is the path you’ve chosen. Hidden in shadows yet illuminated by the faint glow of altruism, bearing silently the scars that no one else can see.

As dusk begins to settle over the camp casting long shadows between the rows of tents Azriel returns from a skirmish. His usually composed expression tightened with discomfort. The shadows that constantly swirl around him seem agitated reflecting his unease. He carries a minor wound. A laceration on his arm that under normal circumstances would be a trivial matter for a healer of his caliber. However, this wound is tainted with faebane, a substance notorious for its ability to thwart fae healing magic.

You watch from a distance initially noticing the way he grimaces as he presses his fingers against the jagged edge of the cut attempting to coax his own magic to seal it. But the faebane embedded in the wound repels each attempt. And with each failed healing his frustration grows. An exceptionally rare crack in his usually impenetrable demeanor.

Recognizing his struggle, you approach him tentatively. The weight of the day’s healings presses heavily on you. Each step toward him a battle against the fatigue that threatens to buckle your knees. “Azriel,” you call softly not wanting to startle him.

He looks up and for a brief moment you’re caught in the intensity of his gaze. His eyes that were usually so guarded and unreadable were now openly display his vexation and pain. "It's this damned faebane," he mutters almost to himself as his hand falls away from the wound.

Stepping closer you offer a small, reassuring smile though your body screams in protest. “Let me try,” you whisper while extending your trembling hands towards his arm.

As your fingers brush against his skin a shock of connection jolts through you. Stronger and more profound than anything you've felt with the other soldiers. It’s as if his very soul resonates with yours. A hum of compatibility that whispers of a deeper bond. Your heart stutters in your chest but you focus on the task at hand pushing away the implications of what this connection might mean.

You press your palms to the laceration and immediately a sharp pain slices through your own arm, mirroring Azriel’s wound. You stifle a cry by biting the inside of your cheek hard enough to taste blood. The sensation is intense, more so because it’s Azriel’s pain you’re sharing now. Despite the agony you pour your energy into the healing being driven by a newfound desperation.

Azriel watches you. His expression shifting from one of pain to concern. "You don’t have to do this," he starts. His voice rough with his own discomfort and the growing worry for yours.

But you shake your head pushing through the pain with a determination that frightens even you. "I can handle it," you lie. The words barely a whisper over the throbbing in your arm. As the faebane slowly loses its grip and the wound begins to close a wave of dizziness hits you. So strong that you sway on your feet.

As Azriel steadies you with his shadows curling anxiously around his form he is acutely aware of the pain coursing through his arm, mirroring the wound he just healed. As a shadowsinger he has always been attuned to the deeper often hidden emotions of those around him. He was capable of sensing the unspoken pains and secret fears that others carry silently. However, this experience is startlingly intense. A raw echo of agony that pulses through him with unusual clarity.

The pain he feels as you heal him doesn't feel like his own. It’s as if he’s tapped into a direct stream of your suffering. This connection, though new and unexplored, unnerves him. It is more profound than anything he has experienced through his shadows before. Almost as if the pain itself has a voice, whispering of shared suffering and mutual burden. He struggles with the realization that he is feeling your agony so vividly. The lines of empathy blurring into something deeper. Something he can't quite understand yet.

In this moment as the faebane's resistance fades and the laceration begins to heal, Azriel finds himself grappling with a mix of concern and a peculiar sense of protectiveness. The intensity of the connection doesn’t fit into the usual confines of his abilities or past experiences. While he doesn't comprehend the full extent of what this means—far from realizing the potential of a mate bond—he recognizes that something significant lies beneath the surface of this shared pain. This unexpected insight into your sacrifice doesn't just alarm him. It shifts something fundamental in how he perceives you. Compelling him to reassess the nature of your relationship and his instincts towards you.

His hands were gripping your shoulders with surprising gentleness. "What is this costing you?" he asks. His voice laced with a rare note of vulnerability having felt a trace of your suffering through the nascent bond neither of you yet understands.

You want to reassure him. To tell him it’s nothing but the shadows in his eyes seem to see through you, recognizing the depth of your sacrifice. In this shared moment of pain and healing the unspoken truth of your connection lingers heavily between you. A secret laid bare by the battle scars you both carry.

You meet Azriel's intense gaze seeing the concern etched in his features threatening to unravel the composure you've fought so hard to maintain. His hands on your shoulders feel both grounding and alarming. As if they're the only things keeping you from collapsing under the weight of your own sacrifices. "I need to keep going," you manage to say. Your voice a strained whisper that barely conceals the weariness lacing each syllable. "There are others who need me."

Trying to inject a note of reassurance into your tone you add quickly, "It's part of healing, Azriel. I'll be okay." Even as you speak the words you feel the hollowness behind them. A contrast to the truth of your pain. But you're determined not to let him see just how much it's affecting you not wanting to add to his burdens.

With a gentle but firm push against his hands you step back pulling away from his comforting grasp. "I have to go," you insist, turning towards the next cot where another soldier lies moaning in pain. You don't look back almost afraid that if you do your resolve will crumble under the weight of his worry and the unspoken connection that you both feel but don't yet understand. You move forward, each step fueled by a mix of duty and the urgent need to escape the intensity of his scrutiny and the complicated emotions it stirs within you.

Azriel was still visibly troubled by the earlier interaction. With your evident strain he insists on accompanying you as you move from one wounded soldier to another. His presence is a silent, watchful shadow that lingers just at the edge of your vision. While the others of the Inner Circle are engaged in the throes of battle, Azriel has chosen to remain by your side. A decision that speaks more of his concern than any words could.

As you press on each healing session takes more from you. Draining your energy, drawing more of your strength. Azriel observes closely noting the increasing pallor of your skin and the subtle tremors in your hands each time you withdraw them from a wound. Despite your attempts to mask your pain, each expression, each falter does not escape his vigilant gaze.

As you lean over a severely wounded soldier focusing intently on sealing a deep, life-threatening laceration the accumulated pain from your healings surges like a tide, overwhelming and relentless. The sharp and unyielding agony lashes through you, blurring your vision and weakening your knees. You feel the darkness creeping in at the edges of your consciousness threatening to pull you under.

In a desperate bid to maintain control you reach out not for Azriel but for the tent’s support pole—a futile attempt to steady yourself. Yet, your hands grasp only air as your strength finally fails. Before you can process the fall Azriel’s arms are around you. His reaction swift and sure. He pulls you gently against him cushioning your collapse as he lowers both of you smoothly to the floor of the tent.

In this moment your pride battles with the undeniable relief of his support. You hadn't called for him. You hadn't wanted to admit that he might have been right about the danger of your condition, yet here he is, the one catching you as you fall. His presence is both a comfort and a confrontation. A not-so-subtle reminder of your own vulnerability.

Azriel cradles you against his chest. His expression a mask of concern etched deep with the lines of fear for your well-being. He doesn’t speak immediately instead opting to brush a gentle hand across your forehead, pushing away strands of hair matted with sweat. His touch is soft, almost reverent, as if he’s both trying to comfort you and reassure himself of your presence.

Around you the battle's distant roars continue but within the tent a quiet bubble of stillness envelops you both punctuated only by your labored breaths. Azriel’s gaze is locked on your face searching for any sign of recovery. Looking for any indication that you might overcome this bout of weakness.

In his eyes there is a flicker of something more—something beyond mere concern. It's a profound realization of your sacrifice. Of the silent suffering you've endured to heal others. And with this realization comes a fierce protectiveness. A vow forming in the depths of his being. He holds you closer, a silent promise cradled in the curve of his arms, that from this moment forward he will do whatever it takes to protect you. To ensure that this burden of pain is no longer yours to bear alone. The bond between you seemingly mysterious and undefined becomes his anchor. The thing he clings to as he silently pledges to be the safeguard you might not admit you need but he knows you deserve.

The pain you've been shouldering now echoes clearly through the bond that neither of you fully understands yet. But its intensity is unmistakable. Azriel feels each pang as if it were his own. A shared torment that binds you together with an ironclad tether. His face was mere inches from yours and is etched with deep concern and something akin to fear. "Hold on," he urges. His voice a low, desperate command. "Stay with me."

As Azriel holds you in his arms feeling the distressing ebb of your consciousness his protective instincts surge into high alert. The warmth from your body seems to be fading and your breathing becomes worryingly shallow. Typical signs that your physical limits have been catastrophically breached. Panic tightens its grip on him. A vivid contrast to the usual calm demeanor of the shadowsinger.

"Madja!" he calls out desperately. His voice piercing the relative quiet of the tent with an urgency that rattles the air. The shadows around him stir reflecting his growing desperation. He needs her expertise, her understanding of your mysterious condition that now seems perilously close to claiming you.

Madja rushes through the flaps of the tent with her healer's bag clutched tightly, the sight that greets her—a formidable Azriel cradling you, pale and barely conscious—draws a sharp intake of breath from her. She kneels beside you both. Her experienced eyes quickly assessing your condition.

"What happened?" she demands. Her voice thick with worry and confusion. As she lays her hands on you seeking to gauge the extent of your depletion Azriel's gaze hardens.

"She's been healing the soldiers, taking their pain onto herself," Azriel explains. His words rushed. His tone laced with both accusation and fear. "She collapsed just now. How could you not know the toll it was taking on her?"

Madja's expression crumbles into one of profound guilt and regret. She meets Azriel's intense gaze with a resigned sorrow. "I knew," she admits. Her voice a whisper of remorse. "I knew, but I thought we could manage it—keep it under control. I feared the implications of her gift being fully exposed. I thought I was protecting her."

Azriel’s anger wanes slightly instead replaced by a sharp pang of understanding. He knows all too well the complexities of hiding one's true capabilities in a world that might not understand or might exploit them. However, his concern for your well-being remains paramount.

"She needs help now, Madja. What can we do?" he asks with his voice softening but still tinged with urgency.

Madja nods. Her focus turning entirely to you. "I can stabilize her for now, but we need to rethink how she uses her gift," she says as she begins to channel her own healing magic into you. A gentle flow designed not to heal but to sustain.

As Madja works Azriel holds you closer. His thoughts racing with concern and resolve. He watches the slight return of warmth to your cheeks under Madja’s skilled care, feeling a blend of relief and determination surge through him. A promise forms in his heart. Not merely to protect you but to truly understand and support your unique gift, no matter the cost.

However, the demands of the ongoing battle pull at him. Madja noticed the conflict in his expression speaks with a calm authority. "She must rest now, Azriel," she advises with her voice steady. "And they need you. The battle isn't over yet."

Reluctantly Azriel nods. The weight of his responsibilities clear on his face. He leans down with his lips brushing your forehead in a gentle kiss. His assurance of returning to you. "I'll be back soon," he promises. His voice a whisper meant only for you. With one last lingering look that conveys all his worry and care he stands and leaves the tent. His figure soon disappearing into the fray.

The war rages on demanding every ounce of Azriel's focus and skill. Yet his thoughts frequently stray back to the medical tent, to you, lying there in recovery. Each moment he can spare he finds himself glancing towards the tent. His mind racing with scenarios of returning to you.

As the last echoes of battle fade and a weary peace begins to settle, Azriel's duties finally allow him a moment to breathe. He wastes no time. The moment he is able he rushes back to the medical tent with his steps quick with urgency and anticipation. Pushing through the tent flaps, Azriel’s eyes immediately seek you out. He finds you awake but visibly exhausted propped up against some pillows. The sight of you, alive and recovering, though still weak floods him with relief.

“I’m here,” Azriel breathes out as he quickly crosses the space to your side before kneeling beside your cot. His hand reaches out brushing a stray lock of hair from your face with a tenderness that belies his warrior's exterior. “How are you feeling?” he asks. His voice low and filled with concern. His eyes scanning your face for any sign of pain or discomfort.

Azriel’s presence instantly eases some of the weight pressing down on you and relief softens your features. "I'm exhausted," you admit but manage a weak smile. "But I'll be alright, just need some rest." Your eyes meet his and even in your weariness there's an undeniable relief that reflects back from his gaze. An unspoken understanding of the solace you both find in each other’s presence after the chaos of battle.

"You had us worried for a while there," Azriel says. His voice a mix of relief and mild reprimand. His eyes scan your face still searching for signs of pain or lingering fatigue. His concern palpable but not overwhelming. "Madja told me you'd recover but seeing it for myself makes all the difference."

Your smile deepens slightly at his words. You were grateful for his concern and the straightforward honesty that always marked your interactions. "I'll be fine, Azriel. Really," you assure him with your tone aiming to put him at ease. "It's good to have you back though."

In the days following the battle, as the camp slowly transitions from a place of urgent healing back to routine operations, your strength begins to return. With each passing day the pain and exhaustion that had once clouded your vision start to fade instead replaced by a growing vigor that Madja assures you is a good sign of recovery. Azriel, true to his word, visits often. His presence a constant reassurance as the camp breaks down around you. The war finally declared over.

Once you're deemed well enough to travel Azriel accompanies you back to Velaris. The journey was facilitated by the magic of winnowing is quick but disorienting. A dramatic shift from the dusty tents and the sharp smells of medicine to the lush, serene beauty of the Night Court. Back in Velaris the city seems to embrace you both with open arms. The familiar sights and sounds of the vibrant city life, the cobblestone streets lit by lanterns and the murmur of the Sidra River, provide a comforting backdrop to your continued recovery.

A few nights after your return, once you feel stronger and more like yourself, Azriel invites you to join him on a balcony overlooking Velaris. The balcony was part of a high vantage point in the House of Wind and offers a breathtaking view of the city spread out beneath a canopy of stars. The transition from the harsh realities of war to this peaceful setting marks a significant shift in your healing process—both physical and emotional.

Seated together on the balcony the atmosphere between you is one of tentative peace. A reprieve from the chaos of the battlefield. The evening air is cool and carrying the gentle scent of night-blooming flowers. There’s a quiet that allows for softer, more intimate conversation. Here with the distance from the front lines you both find the space to reflect on the recent events and the impact they’ve had on each of you discussing thoughts and feelings that the war left little room to explore.

This tranquil setting in Velaris which was far removed from the demands of war allows you both to see each other in a new light. Appreciating the resilience and strength each has shown, and perhaps, beginning to understand the deeper bond that seems to have formed in the crucible of conflict.

Azriel breaks the silence between you with a gentle voice reflecting the calm of the night. "I've been thinking about your healing abilities. About your gift," he says before pausing as if searching for the right way to broach the subject without overstepping. "It's a heavy burden you've carried… taking on others' pain."

You nod appreciating his careful approach. "It can be overwhelming," you admit. Your voice low. Sharing this truth with him feels both vulnerable and relieving. "Especially knowing that each time I heal, I take a little bit of that pain into myself."

The softness of his gaze as he looks at you speaks volumes, and he shifts slightly closer. "Perhaps we can find a way to ease that burden," he suggests. "Explore methods to shield you or at least to share the load." The idea of sharing this part of your life with Azriel, having him understand and perhaps help carry the weight, brings a warmth to your heart. It’s a tentative step towards deeper connection and you find yourself hoping for more.

"And how about us?" Azriel adds after a moment, the question hanging between you like a delicate thread. "These past weeks, feeling everything that you have felt... it’s made me realize how deeply connected I am to you. More than I anticipated." The admission hangs in the air and is charged with an unspoken depth of emotion. You felt it too. The inexplicable pull towards him. Something beyond mere friendship.

You smile a soft, genuine expression that lights up your eyes. "I feel it too," you confess. "It's like there’s something between us, something... more."

The conversation flows more freely now, the initial hesitance giving way to a hopeful exploration of what might be. Neither of you mentions the word 'mates,' still dancing around the full depth of your bond, but there’s an unspoken acknowledgment of the significance of your connection.

As the night deepens between you, you and Azriel make promises. Not grand declarations but quiet vows to support each other. To explore the depth of your bond and understand the extent of your powers together. It's a mutual commitment filled with the promise of discovering not just the mysteries of your abilities but also the potential of what you could be to each other.

With the city of Velaris sparkling below and the tranquil night wrapping around you there’s a sense of beginning. Of possibilities waiting to be explored. Together you watch the stars comforted by the presence of each other and hopeful for the future.

In the quiet of the pre-dawn, you and Azriel linger on the balcony ensconced in the gentle embrace of Velaris' early morning serenity. The sky is a tapestry of deep blues and purples and begins to lighten at the horizon, heralding the dawn. The air around you is charged with the quiet anticipation of the world waking up. A fitting backdrop for the profound moment unfolding between you.

Azriel's gaze remains fixed on the horizon, but his mind is clearly elsewhere—on the revelations of the night, on the words that now hover on the edge of being spoken. Finally, he turns to you with his expression open. He was vulnerable in a way that you've seldom seen from the reserved shadowsinger. "There's something undeniable about the connection between us," he begins. His voice soft, reverent almost. "It goes beyond what we’ve had. Beyond friendship.” You meet his gaze feeling the truth of his words resonate within you. It's a truth you've sensed but haven't dared to define until this moment.

Finally finding the courage to speak what he’s discovered he steps closer making sure to bridge the gap between you. His presence enveloping you in warmth. "I've felt every echo of your pain, every ripple of your joy as if they were my own. It's more than just empathy… it's a bond, a deep, unbreakable bond." His hands find yours. His touch gentle but firm. "I believe we're mates," he says. The words charged with emotion and an unspoken plea for you to feel the same.

Your heart leaps. The simplicity and sincerity of his admission cutting through any lingering doubts. You smile, not just with your lips but with your entire being, accepting the truth of his words and the bond they confirm. "Azriel, I've sensed it as well," you reply with your voice soft yet filled with wonder. "It’s as if there’s been a song woven into the fabric of our days, subtle yet persistent, waiting for us to finally hear it and understand its tune."

Azriel's smile in response is a thing of quiet joy. A uniquely rare and tender sight that stirs something deep within you. He pulls you gently closer and you find yourself wrapped in his embrace. The city around you awakening as the first light of dawn spills over the edges of the world.

In the tranquil embrace of dawn Azriel holds you close. His heart beating a tentative rhythm against yours. His voice carries a rare vulnerability that makes the air around you thrum with the weight of his words. “Do you want that?" he asks softly. His breath warm against your hair. "To always be there for each other. To face whatever this world throws at us, together, as one?"

He pulls back slightly as his hands were still gently cradling your face. His eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. This question isn't merely rhetorical. It's a genuine, open-ended inquiry into your desires. A request for your heart's agreement with his. Azriel's usual certainty is replaced by an endearing, hopeful uncertainty. Highlighting how deeply he values your consent and participation in this burgeoning bond.

You look into his eyes. Into those deep pools of night that have seen so much sorrow and solitude, now laced with tender hope. The dawn casts its first gentle rays illuminating the sincerity and slight apprehension on his face. This moment, this question, isn't just about confirming a bond. It's about choosing to build a future together.

"Yes, Azriel," you respond. Your voice steady and sure, a soft yet resolute affirmation that echoes the depth of your own feelings. "I want that more than anything."

Azriel's response is immediate. His eyes reflecting a profound relief and joy that seem to brighten the very air around him. A broad, genuine smile spreads across his face transforming his usually stoic expression into one of pure elation.

"You've just made me the happiest male in all of Prythian," he breathes out as his voice is rich with emotion. The sincerity in his words resonates deeply echoing the significance of your acceptance.

His arms pull you closer. The warmth of his embrace enveloping you as he whispers, "We'll face everything together, side by side. No matter what comes we won't face it alone."

"Always," you echo back, your voice a soft yet resolute affirmation. The certainty in your agreement strengthens the bond between you weaving your fates together with threads of shared strength and mutual understanding setting a path forward together in the intertwining dance of your shared lives.

Azriel’s smile deepens at your words. His relief and joy palpable. The certainty of your mutual promise solidifies the bond between you weaving your fates together with threads of shared strength and understanding. His hands that still cradling your face shift slightly and his fingers brush tenderly across your lips. A touch so gentle it sends a shiver down your spine.

The intimate gesture holds a world of meaning. As he gazes into your eyes the warmth and intensity of his emotions are clear. He leans in, his breath mingling with yours, and for a moment, the world narrows to just the two of you. Then with a tenderness that quickly deepens into something more he pulls you in for a kiss.

What starts as a gentle meeting of lips soon transforms into a kiss filled with passion and longing. As if all the emotions and realizations of the past days and weeks are being poured into this single, breathtaking moment. Azriel’s kiss is both a promise and a declaration, sealing the bond between you with a fervor that leaves you breathless.

Your arms wrap around him pulling him closer responding to the depth of his kiss with equal intensity. The world around you fades away leaving only the two of you entwined in a moment that transcends everything else. As the kiss lingers it becomes clear that this is not just a bond forged in the fires of battle but a connection that will shape your future, side by side, whatever may come.

ACOTAR Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @kenn-spencerswifey @guacam011y @illisea @hiireadstuff @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @lilah-asteria @fandomarchiveilyd @nickishadow139

Request Taglist: @aelinwya @mira-says

745 notes · View notes

shadowlali · 10 months

Text

the house sitter

COD - Phillip Graves x fem!reader

[18+] wc: ~ 3.3k summary: Phillip gets help from the neighbors’ daughter. masterlist

warnings: NSFW, no use of Y/N, not too many details on reader's appearance, reader can blush but in only one scene, implied age gap, use of toys by and on f!reader, oral (f! receiving), squirting, unprotected sex, creampie, some proofreading a/n: phillip rescues a stray in this and i actually think he would make a really great cat dad! :)

When Phillip bought the new home, he isn’t surprised to find a stray cat at the front door. He's surprised that he's come to care for the small, black cat. He isn’t a superstitious person, but the cat matching the colors of his beloved company only encourages him to believe that buying this home is a good sign. When he's informed of a pressing situation back at base, he's worried about leaving his new friend alone.

He speaks to his neighbors, your parents, and they're quick to offer you as a house sitter. Except, they don’t inform you he’s stopping by to leave the keys and instructions. You hear the doorbell ring and assume they've forgotten their house keys before their trip into the city. So, you open the door in tiny, cotton shorts and a bralette, fully expecting one of your parents to be standing in front of you.

“Oh! Um, hi?” you ask, a little confused to see a stranger at your door.

“Well hello there,” he pauses before continuing, “My name’s Phillip, I moved down the street. Your parents said you could house sit for me while I’m gone for a bit. My cat, Phantom, needs someone to feed and watch him.”

The surprised look on your face is the culmination of a few things.

One, the stranger in front of you is the new neighbor your parents have talked about and who you thought was much older. However, the man in front of you can’t be older than mid-40’s and very handsome. Typical all-American good looks with blonde hair and bright blue eyes.

Two, you slowly become aware of the clothing, or lack of, that you are wearing. And while his eyes stay on your face the entire time, you don’t miss the quick sweep of his eyes and the smirk on his face before his feature cool again. You chalk it up to the heat of the sun that causes your body to warm up, and not because you like the way he looks at you.

Three, you have no idea what he was talking about.

“Nice to meet you Phillip uh – I’m sorry, you said you needed a house sitter for your cat, Phantom? And you spoke to my parents?”

“Ah! I guess they didn’t tell you yet. I just spoke to them on the phone and they said if it's alright with you, you could stay at my house. I’d offer to bring Phantom here, but I think it's best if he stays home.”

“Yeah, okay. I could do that. How long will you be gone?”

“Two weeks, give or take. I fly out tonight and I’ll let you know once I’m flying back. I don’t mind if you have your friends or a boyfriend over as long as Phantom stays calm.”

Now Phillip doesn’t need to mention the boyfriend part, but he can’t deny how curious he is to see if you have one. He wasn’t expecting a sweet nymph, like you, to open the door, especially in those tiny shorts and even tinier shirt. Could it even be called a shirt?

“Uh no – don’t worry. My friends aren’t back yet for their summer break. And… no boyfriend. It’ll just be me and Phantom at your house.”

Phillip smiles wide, “Well, darlin’, I’m sure you and Phantom will have a good time.”

You try not to let it show how much you enjoy the pet-name he gives you or the slip of his southern accent, your nipples becoming sensitive against the bralette and a deep pulse being sent directly to your pus–

“How about I get your number before I leave and take you over to the house so you can get a good lay of the land?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. Um, let me change and put on some shoes. I’ll be right back.”

You hear a light laugh as he steps inside to wait for you. The short drive to his house is mostly uneventful. He asks you a few questions about what you're studying and if you had taken care of a cat before. You actually love cats, and are used to your roommate’s cat back at college.

You also think it's incredibly kind that Phillip took in stray, not expecting someone so imposing to worry about defenseless animals. Phantom has a shiny black coat and is so cuddly the moment you walk in the door. He wraps around your legs, purring deeply. You bend down to pet his soft head, Phantom taking that moment to jump in your arms.

Phillip laughs,“ Looks like he really likes you.”

“I think I just fell in love. I’ll take good care of Phantom. I promise.”

“I believe you.”

He shows you around the house, smooth wood and dark leather a theme throughout. Phillip’s home is far from cluttered, but there are touches of him everywhere. He has photos of what you assume are the soldiers at his company, books placed in random spots as if he needs something to read while in a certain part of the home, but so incredibly tidy and clean.

“Phantom’s taken a liking to sleeping in this bed, I just keep my door open at night in case he wants to come in. He’ll get antsy if I’m downstairs too late, so I try to be upstairs at a good time for him to do his security rounds and then sleep,” Phillip says with a laugh as he brings you upstairs, motioning to the fluffy bed next to his door.

“The guest bedrooms are down the hall. They’re not set up yet and I have too many boxes in there to move right now. You are more than welcome to sleep in my room. I’d actually prefer if you did, to not throw Phantom off his routine. I changed the sheets before I went over.”

Phillip does have too many boxes inside all of the guest bedrooms, so it's not exactly a lie. He's short on time, and can’t stay for too long. And sure, they're all empty boxes that he can easily move into one room. But the idea of you lying down in his bed arouses him like no other.

“Uh, are you sure? I mean I could move some stuff around, I don’t mind,” you say, a blush rising on your cheeks at the idea of sleeping in his bed.

“I’m sure, darlin’. I think you’ll like sleeping in my bed," he says, sending a quick wink your way.

Phillip takes you back home after the tour and gives you a set of keys and written instructions. You pack your essentials, transferring some clothes from your unpacked suitcases into a duffel bag while you wait for your parents to get home.

While arranging your things, you manage to drop the small, black box that holds… well, what helps you destress and take the edge off on these long nights. It's thick, dark pink, and vibrates with enough intensity for you to see stars.

You debate for a second if you want to take it with you. Two weeks without your toy seems too long. You were actually going to use it while home alone but were interrupted and left a little hot after meeting Phillip. You quickly stuff it into your bag once you hear the door open and your parents’ voices float through the house.

Phillip’s house is cozy and interesting. He has a large book collection in his home library and a collection of vinyls. Phantom is great company, either lounging on the various cat posts set up through the house while you read and listen to music, or lying in your lap when he wants attention.

Phillip’s kitchen is fully stocked and has a few plants along the window sill. His garage has only one vintage sports car and a motorcycle, the other lifted truck being taken by him. The nights spent in Phillip’s bed make your heart race. The sheets smell like fresh laundry and the unmistakable scent of sandalwood cologne. You associate that smell to Phillip: clean and woodsy.

You try so hard to be good the first night and respect his bed, but your fantasies run wild. Dreams of Commander Graves spreading your lush thighs and stroking you with his tongue or fingers until your vision goes black. Dreams of his hands gripping your waist as he pounds into you, your hands clawing the sheets from the pleasure.

On the second night, you grab a towel and place it on the bed, knowing you'll cover the silk sheets with your wetness. You're a little nervous and feel a little guilty. What would he think if he saw you right now? Would he enjoy it? Or kick you out and call your parents? Ultimately, the positive fantasies win as the toy is thick and able to hit all the right places. And that’s how you spend your nights, either in Phillip’s ginormous tub using the toy or in his bed.

It's nearing three weeks at this point. Phillip had let you know it might be a little longer until he came back and you know it would be difficult for him to contact you while out doing his job. You should’ve been prepared for him to come back and maybe not let you know in time. Which is exactly what happens.

Phillip has exerted serious amounts of energy these past few weeks. He didn't expect this mission to take so long, but luckily he's back on his jet flying home. Before he knows it, he's passed out from exhaustion and doesn’t call or text you that he's coming back. Once the jet touches down, it's nearing midnight.

Phillip decides against contacting you, believing you’ll be asleep by this time. A short while later, he arrives home and walks in. Phillip walk into the downstairs bathroom, hearing the pitter patter of Phantom’s paws coming to greet him. Phillip’s heart soars, Phantom’s coat only shinier and smoother since he last saw him. Phillip takes a shower, allowing the hot water to wash away his exhaustion.

Phillip would be lying if he said he isn’t at all curious to know what you look like sleeping in his bed. He tries to stay downstairs, knowing he could go into his office and read or watch TV in the living room without disturbing you.

But, what if there is something wrong? What if you had kicked the covers off and were cold in your sleep? What if you left the window open and the hot air was causing it to be incredibly hot in the room? Deciding that he's only thinking of your well being, he ascends the stairs two at a time.

Once he nears his room, he hears low whines and a quiet vibration sound coming from within. Thinking you're in pain, he pushes open the door, seeing your pretty legs spread wide, your head thrown back in pleasure, and the unmistakable view of you fucking yourself with a thick, pink dildo.

“Just like that Commander Graves, fuck me just like that! Oh God,” you plead.

You didn’t hear Phillip walk into his home or the shower turn on in the downstairs bathroom. Granted, Phillip is a skilled soldier who learned to walk quietly given the nature of his job.

You also don’t hear the woosh of the door push open, only hearing the low groan escape from his throat. You jump up in fear, your face beet red once you realize who stands at the door. You're incredibly embarrassed, to say the least.

“Oh – fuck! Holy – I’m so sorry Phillip! I didn’t hear you get home! I didn’t hear my phone either! I'm so, so sorry!” you exclaim, voice on the verge of tears.

Phillip stays still for only a moment, his chest bare and a pair of black silk pajama pants low on his hips.

His hand drag across his face, a smile forming on his lips. ”Who were you imagining?”

“I – what?”

“Who. Were. You. Imagining?” Philip enunciates each word, walking closer to the bed.

Your breathing is fast, your mind trying to catch up to what is happening. ”I – Phillip, I’m sor–”

“No, I don’t want to hear that you're sorry. I want you to answer my question,” he orders.

“I was imagining… you, that it was you, fucking me,” you whisper.

“Is that what you want, babydoll? You want Commander Graves to fuck you? You want my tongue on your clit and my fingers inside that pretty cunt? You want me to fuck you so good you won’t be able to walk tomorrow mornin’?”

You whimper at his words, your pussy hot and slick. He nears the bed, dragging his fingers across the sheets, close to your legs but not quite touching you.

“I need you to ask me, babydoll. I won’t do it unless you ask me.”

“Yes Commander. Please, I want you.”

He grabs both of your ankles and drags your ass to the edge of the bed, your head falling backwards against the mattress. Your thighs are spread obscenely at his waist, your thin nightgown pushed off your shoulders and ruched at your stomach leaving your breasts and pussy bare to his eyes.

He looms over you, dragging his mouth and tongue over your nipples before capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. Phillip’s soft lips caress yours with each kiss, tasting like mint. His tongue plunges in and out of your mouth while his fingers skate from your ribcage to your soft thighs. He gives you one more wet kiss before having you remove the nightgown, his eyes trailing down to your open thighs.

“This cunt as sweet as it looks? So slick and creamy for me?”

You can’t respond, can only watch him fall to his knees to tongue your entrance. Your heart beats in your throat a mile a minute. Your mouth opens in a scream, back arching as his tongue lashes from your entrance to the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Phillip’s moan vibrates against your core, moving his fingers to tease your slick entrance. He pushes a finger in slowly, allowing you to adjust before pushing in a second finger.

“Fuck darlin’,” his mouth moving to leave small bites along your inner thighs, ”your cunt swallowed my fingers so quickly. Look at how red and swollen you are, so desperate for me.”

His fingers speed up, curving inside with each thrust.

“Commander, ah! Fuck, just like that!” your cry, voice high pitched and needy.

“How often did you fuck yourself in my bed? Did you wish I was here with you? Watching you play with this pretty cunt until I fucked you silly?”

“It was the da –” he takes that moment to give a hard lick to your button, interrupting you, ”day after I got here. Yes, I ima – imagined you fuck – fucking me in your bed.” Each word becomes more difficult to say as pleasure claws at your skin.

His hand reaches for the toy thrown haphazardly to your side, turning it on and placing it at your entrance. Phillip continues lapping, inserting the toy inch by inch. Your denied orgasm from earlier only causes this one to hit you like a truck.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the feel of the toy deep inside of you, vibrating non-stop and the feel of Phillip’s tongue slashing at your clit. You move your hips, trying to escape the torrent of pleasure.

Phillip places a firm hand on your lower belly, preventing you from moving, ”Take it.”

You squirt on his mouth and the toy, feeling like you're floating. He finally removes and turns off the toy, wiping his mouth along your inner thighs.

“How was that babydoll?”

You're drunk off pleasure, only able to respond with a small groan. He laughs and mounts the bed, dragging you up to the pillows. Your body is incredibly lax, allowing him to maneuver you he wants.

He places a pillow under your hips, getting you level with his waist. Phillip finally kicks off his pajama pants, freeing his heavy cock. Your energy slowly returning, you place tentative fingers along his length, loving how firm he is. He wraps your hand fully around his length and gives a few pumps, leaning down to kiss your lips and chin.

“Your hands are so soft, darlin’. But I can’t have you touch me too long or else I'll finish too soon. I want to sink in your swollen cunt first, will you let me?”

Your body shudders at his words, ”Yes Commander.”

Phillip leans back, his smile wide, showing his fanged teeth at the corners of his mouth. He spreads open your thighs, pushing your knee to your chest. You're fully and completely exposed to him. The bright moonlight highlights your perfectly swollen and slick cunt. Phillip teases your entrance before slowly pushing in.

“Babydoll,” the nickname draws out in a groan, ”you feel so fucking gorgeous.”

He sinks all the way in, his hips fusing to your folded thigh. Phillip drags out in an unhurried pace, wanting to burn this moment into his mind and body forever. He's a clever and accomplished man who commands respect in every room, but his brain has completely short circuited in this moment.

All he can think about is your gummy walls squeezing him into oblivion, your sweet aroma, and the moans slipping from your throat. Phillip reaches with one hand to pluck your nipples, hard tipped and begging for attention. Your hips begin to twist and match his rhythm, his hips pumping faster and the wet noises becoming louder. You place a hand over his, making sure he doesn’t stop kneading your breasts.

“My poor babydoll… All alone in this big bed. Having to touch herself every night until I got home. So ready and needy for me.”

His words are like honey over your skin.

Your voice is pleading when you whine, ”I needed you so bad, Commander.”

“I’m here now, babydoll.”

You're being fucked into the mattress, each thrust deep and unrelenting. His eyes move from your face to your jiggling tits and to your slick lower bodies. Phillip moves his thumb to swipe repeatedly at your clit, causing electric sparks to shoot behind your eyes.

His thrusts become sloppy and clumsy, lips placing kisses along your jaw and mouth. You twist and squeeze around him, loving how perfect he feels inside of you, much better than you could’ve imagined. Phillip moves to bury his head in your neck, your leg bent as far as possible as he drags out completely before sliding back in with hard strokes.

Lightning spreads fast throughout your body, your nails dragging down Phillip’s back. You cover his cock in your wetness, Phillip’s body becoming weak from the pleasure. He follows shortly after, his moans loud in your ear. Phillip spills inside of you, fucking you until every last drop of him is inside of you. He drops halfway on you, your bodies sticky with sweat.

“You okay?” Phillip asks after a few moments.

“Perfect.”

The rest of the night is spent with your legs around his waist or your ass up while he pounds from behind. You stay a few extra nights at his home, letting your parents know you're still helping while Phillip recovers from his mission. Phantom loves every minute of the extra attention.

#phillip graves x reader #phillip graves x female reader #phillip graves smut #cod x reader #cod mw2 #phillip graves #cod mw2 smut #graves x reader #graves x you #shadowlali

2K notes · View notes

iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 3 months

Note

hi ! i was wondering if it would be okay to ask you to write a hc, however long you please, about the m6 setting off a trigger for mc?

i love your content, you’re the best :3 !

The Arcana HCs: When M6 accidentally trigger MC

CW for descriptions of panic attacks, references to being burned alive/MC canon backstory, and your LI feeling very guilty

-- to set the scene --

It was just a midnight cupcake.

You already knew there were plans for your birthday in the morning, which is why it was such a surprise to see your beloved stealing into the darkened room at midnight with a small excited smile and a single cupcake with one lit candle. For a moment, everything's perfect. Cozy, sweet, calm, if a little blurry from the sleep in your eyes.

Until you reach up to rub the sleep out of them, and when you bring your hands down, the flame of the candle is right in front of your face where you least expect it.

Your beloved's invitation to blow it out and make your first wish goes unheard as your sleepy brain catapults itself into fight-or-flight. Your limbs seize with panic as the flame grows a hundred times the size in your mind, the dimly lit room turning into the yawning darkness of the Lazaret. Your breath comes short and fast and you can't talk - you can't speak - you can't tell them you're not dead yet, you're not dead yet -

Julian

Recognizes the symptoms of panic instantly but is a little confused about why - he doesn't recall you being afraid of midnight treats

Of course, this doesn't hinder him from helping you at all. He's a doctor. He doesn't stop to ask why when there is clearly something wrong and you need his help

Putting the cupcake down (candle still lit) on a nearby surface right away so he can focus completely on you

Being as tactile as he is, his next movements are to lay two large, cool, steady hands on your shoulders and give you just enough pressure to ground you long enough to listen to him

Breathe. You need to breathe. Listen to him while he counts, and he'll get you through this safe and sound

Nobody beats this doctor's bedside manner. His voice is soothing, steady, and just persuasive enough to help you follow his instructions as he walks you through several grounding techniques

Once the panic has passed and you're mentally back in the safety of your room, though, that's when his own questions begin

What set it off? Was it ... was it something he did? It was, wasn't it? Was it trying to talk at midnight? Did he walk towards you too fast?

You can see horror dawning across his face when he puts two and two together, whether because you tell him or because he guesses. He's ready to spend the rest of the night condemning himself

You already know that it'll take much more than accepting his apology to convince him that things are alright

Which mostly takes the form of responding to every apology with a thank you for getting you through the panic, and coming up with ways to let him take care of you

Will propose triggering him in return, to make it even (don't do it)

Asra

Realizes what's happening as it's happening because being fully tuned in to you is second nature at this point and oh no - oh no

Hastily blowing out the candle and summoning some gentle lights instead, reaching out to hold you and try to make it better and worrying as they do so that it'll only make it worse

Thankfully, his touch has been soothing for as long as you can remember. He's tracing a slow square on your palm to breathe in time with, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close

Draping the closest blanket or shawl around your shoulders, using magic to cool the temperature of the room enough to avoid any uncomfortable warmth

Quietly pulling you out of the flashback and back into the mundane, safe present by asking you the simplest questions

Is that a triangle or a circle they're tracing on your knee? Are they touching your right hand, or your left hand? Can you count how many fingers they're holding up? How about now?

When you're back and your breathing is normal again, the silence is tense. He knows what set you off - and he still blames himself for leaving you to a fate like that, even if he fought to change it after

They're quick to try to brush it off, focusing on making you comfortable and lulling you back to sleep to avoid addressing it

But given how inextricably twined the two of you are at this point, you're not the only person who's been triggered by this

Holding him close as well and telling him it's not his fault will result in wide-eyed, vulnerable look, a slow sag in his shoulders, a shared slump into bed together to remember that you're both alive and ok

They are also extremely resilient, and will wake up on your birthday morning ten times lighter for the release and ready to celebrate

Nadia

She's not entirely certain that the flame is what set you off, but she's pretty sure it is and she's already scolding herself internally for putting it so close to your face

Setting the treat down, blowing out the candle as she does and immediately trying to talk to you and figure out what you need

No, she's not an expert on helping with panic attacks, but she likes to think she's an expert on you, and she is dedicated to giving you the best. Talk to her, if you can -

Oh. Oh dear, it seems you can't

She's taking her cues from you, positioning herself where she takes up most of your field of vision, using her capacity to take control and make you feel safe to help you focus

Cupping your face between two manicured, strong hands, stroking her thumbs along your cheekbones and telling you in a rich, authoritative voice to take some breaths, good job darling, another

Slowly bringing you down and practically gluing herself to your side so you don't have to feel alone in this for one moment

At the same time, she's trying not to let you see how her forehead is wrinkling up from the worry and disappointment she feels in herself. How could she do this to you?

Her worst fears are confirmed when she insists on helping you verbally process what just happened, shouldering the guilt of having hurt you and of not taking a moment to think first earlier

She doesn't forgive herself easily when she feels like she's failed in her duty to care for her loved ones. It's a great moment to remind her that care goes both ways and doesn't have to be perfect

Still needs to ramp up her efforts to pamper you over the following days to prove that she can take good care of you

Muriel

Oh, this is his worst fear coming true, and if the guilt of triggering you wasn't enough, he already feels bad for wanting to walk away to work through his own triggers coming to light

He's not going to walk away. Not from you. He just feels bad that he wants to, when you already put up with so much from him

None of the above thought processes slow down his response. The cupcake is being put to the side. He's crouching in front of you and searching for the earliest "ok" to touch you since he knows it helps

And then he's scooping you up, getting you to the safest part of the hut (in the bed, scooted all the way into the corner) so he and Inanna can sandwich you in a warm, heavy, safe embrace

He's tucking your favorite carving into your palm, layering a heavy fur over your shoulders, pressing your hand to his chest so you can feel his deep breathing and mimic it

He doesn't trust his voice, and words are hard anyways, but he knows how to speak with his actions and he'll do whatever works best to tell you that you are safe

And, if you need to talk about it as you start to breathe easy again, he'll listen as much as he needs to to tell you you're heard

Of course, once the crisis has passed and you're doing better, the urge to isolate himself is stronger than ever. His own worst fear came true in hurting you, and that was in an act of love alone

He didn't even need to touch you to cause distress

Until you're both able to fall asleep, the time passes as you trade comfort and grounding, taking turns to reassure each other that the past holds no threat to your present and future

He's not going to ask you to start or tend the fire for a long time, though. That's his job now

Portia

She's frozen in shock for all of five seconds when you start to panic, simply because it's so completely unexpected

Shoves the cupcake aside completely forgotten on a fire-safe surface so she can take your hands in hers and squeeze them enough to make you look at and listen to her

Lowkey panicking because she has patience, sure, but she has very little experience sitting with anyone through something like this besides her older brother, who she usually just slaps out of it

She's going to fix her mistake of making your environment feel threatening by making it feel safe instead

She's shoving Pepi into your lap, wrapping a heavy quilt around your shoulders, trying to find a balance of lighting that's as soothing and cozy and grounding as possible

All while she inwardly battles feelings of worthlessness with uncharacteristic levels of quiet

She's sure her older brother would be more reassuring, with all that worldly knowledge under his belt - or the Countess, who knows exactly how to take charge and make everything better

She's in front of you with your hands in hers, watching you with total faith in your ability to survive and overcome, feeling a little too much like her five-year-old self guarding Ilya from the tooth fairy

Helpless. She feels helpless. And worse, she got you into this mess because she didn't know you well enough

Seeing you pull through and return to your usual self (albeit very tired) is enough to lift her spirits, but it's the way you still want her to sleep next to you that starts to give her hope

She still apologizes multiple times as she's falling asleep

And she's not letting anyone else use this trigger against you, ever

Lucio

He's plenty familiar with symptoms of panic. He grew up on a battlefield and has plenty of suppressed trauma, he knows what being triggered looks and feels like

That said, he's caught entirely off guard because it's a cupcake with a candle in it!! Since when was that scary?? This was supposed to be a sweet romantic gesture, not a horror show -

Oh right right right you're panicking and it's probably his fault and oh no he's familiar with this but that doesn't mean he's good at helping with it, he needs backup

Mercedes and Melchior are already on it. Their doggy senses have one of them curling around your back while the other crawls into your lap, offering their silky smooth fur to touch and soothe you

Lucio is putting the cupcake down to be quickly forgotten so he has his hands free to try to help, doing the things that he's noticed calm you down on a regular basis

Bringing you your favorite blanket, patting you on the back in a steady rhythm so you know he's right there if you need a hug, telling you it's okay to cry, he'll keep you nice and safe

And dedicating every speck of his being to some good quality cuddles if you need them, because he doesn't take a moment of your wellbeing for granted. He's holding you as tightly as needed

There is the aftermath, of course. He won't stop asking until you tell him why you panicked, and then he'll be faced with knowing he's somewhat responsible for both fires

He's actually pretty used to being the guilty party at this point. There's always the fear, deep down, that he'll run out of grace, but as soon as you forgive him he fully believes you

None of this is stopping him from partying hard for you tomorrow

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

199 notes · View notes

coral-melon · 7 months

Text

Tangled Nightmare!

Obey me! Brothers x Curly!MC (reader)

Genre: Crack/shenanigans, Fluff; slightly suggestive?

No pronouns said but probably AFAB

Hopefully isn’t too OOC ._ .🤞

Summary: Your hair is being impossible and you need help detangling your hair. This is for my hella curly hair peeps! Kinda slightly self-indulgent too.. but my other peeps are more than welcome to imagine themselves here!

You’ve been procrastinating over when you felt like washing and do your hair. Under normal circumstances, you do your hair once a week. You kinda skipped it though, saying it didn’t look bad at all — which it wasn’t, why even take the life out of it when it could last a bit longer? It’s been 3 weeks…

Today was the day you were ready to do your hair! Your take out your brushes, washing and styling products. You got everything ready to just be in a happy, productive mood. What could possibly go wrong?

-Dun dun- your hair was impossible! You wash and put plenty of conditioner but your brush just wouldn’t go through! Your arms were tired and your hands were getting cramps; you’ve been at it for a while and tried many things, but nothing! You were on the verge of giving up and going bald, but you go to your last resort, getting another pair of hands and eyes. So you summon your boyfriend!

Lucifer

This man was busy buried in his yet again endless mountains of paperwork. He was so close to just drowning himself in demonus to get by at this point..

But suddenly, he hears your call and the dreadful scene was changed when he was summoned… to the bathroom?

He then sees you, peeking through the shower curtains, bawling your eyes out. He was about to scold you for calling him at such a busy hour, but the thought was kicked right out the window at the sight of seeing your tearful eyes. He keeps his composure though; he needs to understand the situation at hand, after all.

— “My dear, what happens?” He asks as he got closer to you.

— “Lucifer, please help me! I’m on the verge of shaving it all off!” You say after taking a deep breath.

He’s a bit confused at first, but when you reveal the utter mess you had on your head, he understood what you were so frantic about; but at the same time, he was still dumbfounded. He clears throat, and asks you what you need him to do.

You wouldn’t be able to tell that he’s actively stressing on the inside, he’s graceful at everything he does even if he doesn’t have the slightest clue of what he’s doing.

He couldn’t help his mind to.. slightly wonder off. You had sat down on the bathtub with your back facing him, told him how he could pull your hair as much as he wanted.. as long as it detangled the knots, of course!

He had always been infatuated with your curls, but this experience gave him an insight of just how much effort you put into making it look how it always does.

This was also quite satisfying to him, it destressed him to the point where he almost forgot about the work that was still waiting for him at his office.. And for you, it felt like a heavenly massage.. he’ll check you every now to make sure you’re alright.

It took a while, but him being him, everything worked out in the end! Your curls finally softened and ever so defined✨

You thank him profusely, saying that you wouldn’t know what you’d do with yourself it it weren’t for him.

But he simply looked at you with a sinister gentle smile and darkened eyes..

— "I presume that you already know this means that you have a great price to pay for taking up my time, correct..? I suggest you don't keep me waiting for long."

Mammon

Your summon was literally a blessing, he was in a bit of a tight spot with some witches and you saved him in the nick of time!

— “Mammon, you gotta help me!” So I guess it’s only fair he helped you too..

You explain to him what’s going on in a frantic state, would ask you to go to a hair salon, but you starting crying about how expensive that would be. 100% understands and doesn’t question it any farther. So he tries to calm you down, saying he gots this!

— “Ha! Don’cha even worry about it! The great Mammon’s gonna handle this; no problem!✨💪🏽”

His confidence gave you reassurance and put you at ease, you were finally saved! He’d be decent at it, it’s not as unbearable at all and would be soothing to the point of falling soundly asleep.. if he wasn’t so on and off about it!

You’d eventually learn that he just couldn’t help but get distracted by your naked body. Your back facing him, fully exposed to him.. And your hair was just perfect.. ack! Nono! None of that right now! If he could, he’d worship you.

He’d be like: Lord have mercy.. We must stay focused, bothers! We must. Stay focused!

Fell in love with you over and over again every time he passed the brush through you hair. Watching intently how your hair curled so beautifully..

Every now and then, the thought of selling a bit of your hair also came to mind. But quickly gets rid of the idea; you worked how to maintain it, you’d kill him if he chopped it!

Overall, pretty nice and bonding experience. Later thinks about how he wants you to do the same for him.. But he could never admit that out loud!

Feels all high and mighty when you thank him! Of course you should be grateful to him; He took the time out of his busy schedule to help you out and everything! …Kinda forgetting the fact that he would’ve been roasted by witches if it weren’t for you.

— “Hmph, nothin’ I couldn’t handle! Though that’s gonna cost ya a hefty pri—! Oi wait wait! I’m jokin, I’m jokin!… Half joking..”

Leviathan

He was in the middle of choosing a spot to proudly display he’s latest figure collection. But that was soon interrupted when he was summoned to the bathroom.

You call for him as you peek through the shower curtain, motioning him to come closer. He freezes for a moment, until he finally realizes that his in the same room as you while you’re naked.

Proceeds to do that Finn scream*

— “Levi. Levi! Do not freak out, cuz I’m freaking out; and we can’t have two people freaking out! It just doesn’t work. You’re the only one that can help me!” You say, trying to have him not run out on you.

After some back and forth bickering and convincing, you finally managed to get him the courage he needed to help you out!

Don’t look at him though; especially not in the eyes, he’ll simply die.💀

He’s face will be completely red the whole time, you would think he’d pass out at some point… don’t get me wrong, he did — almost. You give him an idea to summon something that’ll splash him with cold water whenever he started to wobble.

In his head, there’s two voices: the one that’s been constantly screaming, and the one that is pretty much worshiping every time he strokes you hair.

Oh, Lemme give you some hope. -Ahem-🎤Don’t be fooled though! This guy does cosplay, therefore knows to do hair. Prove me otherwise!

Knows exactly how to deal with knots without ruining the hair, so at least it wasn’t painful! Your hair is far too sacred for him to mess up!

Once he finishes, there’s a short moment where he feels so proud of himself. But whatever was gripping onto the thin strand keeping his soul together breaks after you gave him a wide smile and thanked him for saving you!

— [ERROR] Levichan.exe does not compute.

Satan

He was getting mad over something, though he himself didn’t know what it was. So he was gonna go destress by flipping Lucifer off but you suddenly summonsed him.

He sensed you were frustrated before he could even see you. So it didn’t come as a surprise when you peeked through while gripping the shower curtains and heated tears in your eyes.

— “What happened, sweetheart?”

— “I’m this close to going apeshit and ripping my hair out.. Please help me!”

Doesn’t know how to handle curly hair, of course. But he’s willing to try. After all, He can’t just leave you like that! Your hair is like a work of art to him, so he wouldn’t want you shaving it off in a pit of rage! You got lucky this time, Lucifer..

Welp, he found a new coping mechanism! This was like a puzzle for him to solve, one that would also make you happy and him quite quite satisfied in the end. That was enough for him to get him going.

He was firm with how he handled you tangled hair, but in a good way. He did his best to not pull too hard and hurt you accidentally.

Keeps it respectful. But~ I do imagine his hands would go through your scalp and gently pulls on the roots of your hair in a very teasing manner. Will play dumb if you ask about it. ((Ever seen that hair pull massage video? Yeah, that))

And/Or, will play with your hair a bit like cats do when they’re massaging their paws onto something soft.

All in all, you’ll feel like you’ve ascended into a new level of lightheadedness with how at ease you head feel. Whatever headache you had a moment ago is long gone!

He comes to appreciate your hair a lot more after this; he’s a blond with short straight hair, so he didn’t fully grasp just how much work it actually is to maintain you hair.. See? A work of art!

He’s already thinking of the next time he could do this. Like I said before, this was his new coping mechanism and I don’t think you can’t do anything about it once he made up his mind.

— “You should let me do this again the next time you wash your hair, it was a very pleasing experience..”

Asmodeous

While in the middle of choosing what perfume and lipstick to where to the day, he could already sense beauty troubles before you could even think about summoning him.

When your call beckons him to come, he is ready. You peek through the curtains with tearful eyes, too embarrassed to really want to show him the mess that happened but not really having a choice at this point.

— “Love, Don’t even say a word! Asmo’s here to help~♡”

Gets immediately to work! He already had his hair products ready. You would think it’s kinda unnecessary to have as many products as he had on hand, but why even question it?

And ooh, how flawless he was.. You felt like you were at a spa with how at ease you felt. You could hear him cry out every now and then, saying how awfully tangled your hair was. But not once did you feel any pain.

But when he isn’t crying, he talks to you like hairstylists do at a hair salon. He tells you about some gossip he heard at Majolish and some products he’s planning on sharing with you. He asks you some questions and all in all, have a good time together. It’s honestly very fun!

By the end of it all, you’ve never felt more replenished. Your curls look the liveliest they’ve ever been, and you hadn’t even added your hair products or defused it!

He finished way quicker than what you would’ve taken. You probably still would’ve been only have way after all this time.

He’ll be fawning over you and saying how obsessed he is about your curls. ..but might start getting touchy since he hadn’t during that whole time. Which is kinda surprising he lasted this long.

— “Why don’t we go straight to my room? I’d love to try some hairstyles and new products on you!… Oh, no need to put clothes on, hon~ ;)”

Beelzebub

He was in the middle of doing some warmups before starting his regular workout routines. So imagine his surprise when he suddenly ends up in the bathroom.

But what surprised him even more was you peeking through the shower curtain, barely being able to hold your tears of frustration. Though you can’t stay feeling that way for long when you have a big fella worrying and asking you what’s wrong.

— “I need another pair of hands and eyes.. Could you help me out?” You say and laugh sheepishly.

— “Y-Yeah, sure! Just tell me what do to..”

The last thing he expected was to do your hair and has no experience whatsoever. But he’s washed and bushed Belphie’s hair before, so how hard can it be?

You two really need to stop underestimating the situation.💀👍

Has no idea what he’s doing but he will be so gentle! He also apologizes softly every time he pulls and brushes your hair, which is quite often.

His hands went through your hair so nicely, massaging your scalp and often playing with your hair. Your hair is so pretty..! So pretty.. it looks good… very good..

— “Beel, do not eat my hair!”

— “Oh, right. Sorry..”

But, I mean come on! Based on his logic, Your hair looks and feels so good.. it even smells amazing! So why wouldn’t it taste good too? It’s very tempting👀✨ if you want a speedy haircut, he’s your guy!

Very good at following directions, and appreciates that you tell him to divide your hair into sections to that it’s easier for him to detangle the knots. He makes sure to ask if it hurts or if you’re doing alright.

Also very respectful! Keeps his eyes where he should be putting them, doesn’t touch you where he shouldn’t and doesn’t make the situation weird; he would never want to make you feel uncomfortable. Though you can see that there’s a soft hint of blush decorating his cheeks..

This ends up being the most unique workout for him, one that required a hella amount of delicacy and patience. And self control.

You thank him for helping you out, joking about how you would’ve just shaved it all off if you couldn’t do it. He’s just happy that your happy.

*Growl..* “Oh, I’m starving now. I’ll head toward the kitchen so come join me when you’re done, okay?”

Belphegor

Obviously sleeping in some who knows where corner in the most uncomfortable position imaginable. Your summon kinda saves him from that.

This guy was dumbfounded when you asked him to help you with your hair. Like, don’t you know him?? He hasn’t even brushed his own hair this week, you think he can handle your hair?!

— “Belphie, Please! I can’t just ask someone else!”

— “Go to the hair salon or something!”

— “Don’t you know how expensive that is?? They’ll charge me a shit ton!”

He can’t refuse you when you’re this distressed about what’s going on. So he’ll reluctantly agree to help you, but doesn’t promise to do a good job. Will ask again if you’re sure you want him to help you; ..oh well, your decision.

Decides that the best course of action..! Is to look it up in DevilTube. Ain’t no way this mans knows what he’s doing.

There’s a 75% chance you’ll end up worse than when how you started. His movements are so stiff, and awkward, way too rough for your scalp, and all in all, just ass.

Will sarcastically tell you to just leave it like that, it’ll work fine as a pillow. That, of course, is not an option.

He’ll also play with your hair, making a bubble tower; and if possible? Make shapes with your hair. I’m telling you, your hair will get a lot worse with him ;—;

But lo and behold, if a miracle happens and somehow managed to detangle it? You’ll never skip a week of your hair routine. This horrible learning experience taught you that routines are very important or else all hell will break lose.

He never exercise, so imagine how how numb and exhausted his arms will feel after this?? Got to learn where you get most of your strength from even if you don’t look strong.. will want to make you just as exhausted as he feel. Do with that information what you will.

Moral of the story, don’t ask Belphie to help you. You’re better off doing it yourself!👍

— *huff, huff* “Your hair must be one of hell’s miserable wonders.. *Pant* You owe me a long cuddle session after this..!”

End

My magic wouldn’t work on Belphie’s dialogue.. ;-;

But Oh god, I had so much fun with this! I could stop laughing at some of them when I kept imagining them in my head. So I hope you too also had a good laugh when reading this! ^^⸝⸝

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me shenanigans #obey me crack #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me oneshot #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me scenarios

291 notes · View notes

sunny1616 · 3 months

Text

Pressure

Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: During the weigh-in conference rafe's opponent, jj maybank, makes a comment that get rafe riled up.

Warnings: some fighting, cussing, mentions of pregnancy

"Standing at 6'2" and 180lbs, Rrrrrafe CamerON!!" You are seated against the wall of the press area with Rafe's team clapping as you watch your boyfriend being weighed in. You usually don't come to the weigh-ins or other press conferences, knowing how tense they can be. And you would've skipped it since you were 7 months pregnant, but you wanted to be supportive of your partner. After all, this was no regular fight because you were in South Carolina for the biggest event of Rafe's boxing career so far against the infamous JJ Maybank. JJ is no joke, with 19 wins, 0 losses, and 6KOs.

The coverage and attention that this fight is getting isn't something that you're used to seeing and it sometimes makes you nervous. Regardless, you decided to be brave and support your man since it's his first time with so many eyes on him. Though he hasn't admitted it to you yet, you can tell that the pressure is weighing on him. You are concerned but not worried, Rafe is tough because of the pain hes been through in his past with his family. He's the strongest and most resilient man you've ever known.

After Rafe's time on the machine, JJ stepped up and flexed. The MC announced his measurements, and the cameras went off. The conference went on as expected, with small insults and verbal jabs thrown between Rafe and JJ. Nothing serious. But then, just as face-off photo op was about to complete, JJ says something to Rafe that makes him rage and right-hook JJs jaw. The stage turns into a moshpit, and cameras go wild. Rafe's bodyguards try to remove him from the stage, but all Rafe wants to do is get to JJ .

Meanwhile, you stand eyes wide and hands protectively on your bump. Rafe's assistant and one of his bodyguards inch closer to you while watching the scene unfold. Eventually, Rafe is taken off the stage, and the announcer tells the crowd the date of the fight, concluding the event. You are then escorted to Rafe's room. Once inside, you take a look around, trying to spot him amongst all the bodyguards and other team members. You then spot him in the corner, sitting on a cubby bench, talking to his manager and trainer. Both trying to calm him down, which marginally seems to be working because though he is seated with elblows on his knees and listening attentively to the two men, he still has a terrifying amount of fire in his eyes.

As you walk up to him he immediately makes eye contact with you. He then looks to the two people talking to him and signals them to give you two some space. While hes still sitting he pulls you and hugs you around the hips. You immediately bring you arms around his shoulder and scratch the back of his head while giving the top of his head a kiss. After some deep breaths he looks up at you and you down at him.

"Lets go back to the hotel. We dont need to be here for another second."

"Okay, but are you alright? What happened up there?"

Rafe exhales, "i dont want to talk about that right now. That mother fucker should sooner be 8 feet under then in our thoughts." Okayyy so not the time to talk about it then, you say to yourself.

"Alright lets go." You both get into a black escalade and drive 20mins to your hotel. Once alone in your room you take a shower while Rafe orders food and makes some calls. Rafe then goes to shower and u lay on the bed with your robe on too exhausted and filled with thoughts about the event. Just as your deep in thought rafe comes out with his robe on and stares at you.

"Can we talk now?" You say.

Rafe looks at you and sighs and lays down on the bed. He turns to face you and says, "He threatened to take you from me. He said that it wouldn't be hard and that the baby wouldn't want a loser of a father anyway after the fight."

You blank.

"Rafe, that isn't true. You know it isn't. The loser part or it being that easy for me to leave you. This probably isn't the right thing to say, but im surprised that got to you. Tell me why it did."

Another breath, "No opponent has ever said anything about you before. That's always been my boundary. I've also never had to worry about it because all my previous opponents were professional, never made it personal. Ever. And I've been so... mentally off for this whole thing because i was partly raised here. My mom left me when i was here. And with the swarming media and dwindling privacy lately and the underdog card, i just feel so... off. There's so much pressure with this one. And i dont want to lose for the team, and especially for you and our girl."

"I love you, rafe, and no matter the outcome, that will never change. Im not going anywhere, and she won't either. She will be proud and in awe of how strong and amazing you are, just as i always am. And as for the past, that's all it is. It's over. You moved on. Nothing can hurt you here. We and the team support you bc this is your fight. We're here to support you bc we all know that you are better than him. You can prove it to yourself, too, by fighting. For. Yourself." With a soft smile, you reach out and cup his cheek, rubbing your thumb over his cheekbone.

Rafe just stares at you in awe. He savors moments like this. He's never felt so lucky. He can never get enough, so he closes the small distance between and meets your lips with his. The kiss emulates love and gratitude. He then pulls you in closer. "I love you, baby. Thank you."

You chuckle and shake your head, "i love you too, bubs. Now come on, the new love is blind episodes come out today we have to see whos gonna get ditched and hitched!" You then kiss his nose and sit up to find the remote. And in lighter air you both happily watch cheesy tv.

Authors note: okayy so this is my first post. Please go easy on me 😅💗

*edited some of it*

#boxer!rafe #rafe x reader #rafe cameron #pregnant reader

153 notes · View notes

sehodreams · 4 months

Note

also anton

https://x.com/jay_andcay/status/1602326102931738624?s=46

Link nsfw

Sorry it gave me a whole idea, just so good.

Tw and tags: fingering, public place, oral sex (f receiving), kind of dubcon even in established relationship with toxic!(?)Anton🧐

Happy Valentine's day everyone! (even if I'm late)

Anton is always a good boyfriend, he knows when and how to make you laugh, he knows when you need a hug from him and exactly what to tell you to believe everything will be alright. However, contrary to the sweet calm boy you met months ago, lately Anton had become… different, as if something inside him had changed the time you’ve been together, making you doubt if he was the same man you fell in love with.

For example, just now when you were at the movies and you had monopolized the popcorn, you thought he'd just make one of his little tantrums until you shared it with him, but instead, in the darkness of the room, with no one beside or behind you, but more than ten people in front, he didn't say anything before his hand slid under your skirt when one of the explosions happened, masking your hard breath with the loud bombing sounds of the action scene. You looked at him horrified, but he hadn't even flinched, staring at the screen with a little grin appearing on his lips that were slurping the drink on his other hand.

"Anton..." You tried to call him, but he didn't move his eyes apart from the movie, pressing one of his pads over your clit. You tried to close your legs and escape his hand, but it was so big that before you even tried it his palm pushed your thighs open enough to cup your whole pussy without any real effort.

You left your drink on the cupholder and tried to remove his hands, legs already trembling with the way he was drawing lines between your lips, taunting your opening to push his middle finger to then continue with the same caress out of it.

You looked at him and tried to push him away again, but he was so strong it was impossible to do something about it. You were helpless beside him and behind all those people, and soon your eyes had started to get wet and your pussy to clench.

It was terrible what you were doing, you shouldn’t like the way his finger intruded your little hole and how the anxiety of being seen made you clench harder and leak more over your skirt.

You were so afraid of leaving a wet spot over your seat that you slid down to avoid making a mess there.

You tried to concentrate on the movie to not feel his touch so much, but his hands were so big soon you were biting your lip and working on not letting your whimpers escape.

More pressure.

His fingers were smearing your juices inside your panties and soon you felt the knot starting to form in your abdomen.

‘’Anton…’’ he could feel your insides holding his fingers your hips trying to meet his palm, movie long forgotten, your whimpers were becoming louder inside the room and you covered your mouth with your hand to not let a moan out when you knew the knot was about to snap.

"Quiet, don't bother the people enjoying their movie, if you want to say something let's talk later" he murmured. Asshole, you thought, you were about to cum with his hand in public and he seemed too proud of it for your own peace.

You repeated the insult inside your mind many times because when you were already clenching around his fingers, an intense orgasm approaching you with strong waves, he pulled his hand out of you, licking the juices that covered them before his hand grabbed some of the popcorn left and started to munch it without care.

Confused, you looked at him with teary eyes, feeling so unfair how he stole your orgasm from you when you were so close to it.

"I hate you" you bitterly said, and he heard you even if he didn't acknowledge you, you knew it because you saw his smile getting wider with every second still there.

Before another important scene happened you stood up and advanced to the exit door that connected the room to the open parking lot, the cold of the night almost throwing you back with how strong the wind at that late hour was.

Anton said no word, he silently followed you with the popcorn bucket in one hand and your almost full drink in the other.

You found his car and waited for him to open your door for you, like he always did, but instead of opening it for you to sit, he left the popcorn over your seat and your drink on the cup holder, closing the door before you tried to get in.

The air was freezing your naked legs and you tried to hug yourself and maintain you warm with your jacket, but it wasn't enough, so when he closed the door you scoffed.

"Anton Lee, you're gonna pay for this" you whispered more for you than for him.

He finally looked your way and you, defiant, looked up to him with a frown.

"Sorry" he said with a smile, cornering you to the door of his car and giving you a peck on the lips "I'll make it up to you."

"How? Anton, you made me lose my movie, I couldn't think of anything that wasn’t my fear of leaving a wet spot with my slick" you argued, "and it's Valentine's day, you could've at least waited until we went back home, you ruined my surprise."

He laughed and kissed you one more time before he went down to his knees and, seeing that no one was around, he pretended to tie your shoes, pushing apart your legs to welcome him.

Your breath hitched again, "Anton..." you whimpered when he left a trail of kisses inside your thigh.

"It's okay, there's no one at this hour."

"And how do you know that?" You inquired him.

"You know the midnight show is the only one I can attend to with my schedule" his head pushed up your skirt up and hid him from your sight. Better, you thought, because you didn't want him to see how much your frown had changed into a soft face with fluttering eyes trying to stay open with the sensation of his lips leaving pecks over your messy underwear.

You heard a curse from him when he moved your panties to the side, sure you were dripping for him with how much he had teased you before.

"Anton?" You couldn't call him again when his tongue started to lap your clit. "Fuck" you hissed with how sensitive you were.

Your skirt was blocking the full view, so, full of shame, you lifted it to see his hair moving up and down with each lick he gave you.

His eyes were closed and his nose was being suffocated with your little mount, but he didn't care, he didn't need to breath in that moment, the only thing he needed was you cumming over his face.

"Anton someone will see us..." You tried to stop him, but not really, you just felt flustered with how good you were feeling doing something so dirty out there with the risk of anyone catching you.

"You just have to cum before the movie ends" he inhaled before going back to his work.

His lips were sucking your little bud almost with fury and one of his palms groped your ass while the other over the floor helped him stay still in his position.

You tried to not be obvious, but it felt so good your head fell and your eyes rolled for a second when he slurped your wetness, tongue already pushing inside your hole when your fist gripped his hair.

‘’Harder’’ you practically begged, pushing his face to your cunt so he gave you back the orgasm he had stolen from you before.

The sound of his actions, the slurping, the smearing, and his groans when his nose bumped your clit without being able to breath made your legs get weak, and soon you were trembling over him, his hand on your ass helping you stay up.

‘’Yes, yes’’ you cried, hips clashing with his face and taking the control of him.

His tongue thrusting your insides and you felt how it touched a spot in the entrance that made you feel as good as when his fingers played with you, it wasn’t as intense, but it left an agreeable sensation that easily made you wish for more.

Fuck, if he ordered you to turn and open your legs to receive his cock you weren’t sure you could say no.

‘’Cum before everyone comes out’’ he ordered instead, making your walls spam on its own and cum with his comma, cumming so hard your voice broke when you called his name.

With your orgasm dripping to his chin, he stayed on his knees until your legs weren’t a shaking mess anymore, and opening his door he made you sit inside as soon as the exit door opened and the other clients started to go out.

You stayed still in the passenger seat while he drove you home. He was so shameless that he didn’t even try to clean your orgasm off his mouth, licking his lips and watching the way with total calm with one hand on the steering wheel and the other controlling the gear shift, unlike you that couldn’t stop asking yourself inside your mind what the hell had been that.

When you saw him beside you one more time he smiled at you, the exact same smile you saw every day when you two started, peaceful, tender, that gave you a sense of comfort every time you were around him, but now with his lips glistening and his hazy eyes, you couldn’t recognize who was the man you called your boyfriend until now.

#riize smut #anton smut #riize hard thoughts #riize hard hours

257 notes · View notes

entitled-fangirl · 4 months

Text

You've made me worry.

Din Djarin x reader

Summary: The reader stands by while her Mandalorian faces a near-death situation. The two realize their feelings for each other.

Words: 2,705

Warning: Near-death situation, crying, explosions, Din actually talking about his feelings....

Masterlist <3

.......................................................

She stood by idly as she watched Cobb Vanth and her Mandalorian scope out the dangers of the Krayt Dragon.

She stood on the sand, her body close to Mando’s in comfort. She was worried. Quite worried. She knew Mando could protect himself just fine, and he often did so, but it didn’t stop her rambunctious mind from coming up with the worst possible scenario.

The Mandalorian’s mind wasn’t too far off from those thoughts as well. He should’ve left her and the kid somewhere safe, somewhere away from what was to happen, but he didn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to leave them out of his sightline. At least here, he could see for himself that they were alright.

A shrill cry sounded through the valley as the sand people below began to panic.

She started to as well. She pulled the child closer to her body. It reassured him that he was safe, but she didn’t do it for him. She did it for her. She needed to know he was going to be safe.

The ground in the valley began to move and the Krayt Dragon emerged from the sand. Its mouth opened, showing its long, sharp teeth. It practically swallowed some of the sand people in front of it.

The sand people tried shooting at it. It seemed to work for a moment, but soon, even the arrows that pierced its skin couldn’t stop it. It drew closer, vomiting acid on the sand people, their screams echoing through the valley.

She felt her stomach drop. She had never seen a Krayt Dragon before. She hadn’t seen many beasts like this before. It made her only admire her Mandalorian even more. He was even stronger than she thought if he felt confident enough in his skills to leave her and the child this close to the scene.

“Almost…,” his voice drew out, waiting for the moment to strike, “…NOW!”

Cobb Vanth pressed the detonator. An explosion under the dragon shook the ground below them.

She stumbled slightly, unprepared. Mando’s hand shot out to her bicep to steady her. He wasn’t even looking in her direction. He did as if instinct. The child simply continued to tuck his face in her neck. She looked up at her Mando. He held a content look to him, seen just through his body language. The dragon was dead. It worked.

She felt her body let out a long sigh before a rumbling sound from up the mountain was heard. Another dragon emerged from the top of the mountain. And he seemed much angrier than the first. His vomit fell a long way down the mountain, wiping out many of the people residing below.

“They’re picking us off like womp rats,” Cobb Vanth said as he moved to get his weapons, “Let’s get after it.”

Mando looked up at the dragon with a careful eye before moving to get his own weapon. He walked back to the child and his girl, giving them a knowing look through his helmet. His hand reached up to her cheek, but fell just as quick as it had came. The two beskar wearing warriors took off with their jet packs.

The woman and child simply watched as they soared through the air. A silent wish left the woman’s mouth in hope that it could protect her Mandalorian.

The two men landed in the valley, Mando’s gaze looking up towards the family he left behind to assure their protection in his mind. That they were far away enough. But he wasn’t sure they were.

“I’ve got an idea. Get its attention.” Mando commanded.

Cobb Vanth bent down, releasing the small missile from the top of his pack. It exploded against the creature’s head. It turned to look the two dead on, moving its body towards them.

“Well, I got its attention. NOW WHAT?” Cobb Vanth yelled.

But Mando was calm. Collected. His Mandalorian side had come through. And when it did, he could become deadly calm. “You still have that detonator?”

The detonator that connected to the bombs that were loaded onto the Bantha behind them? Of course, he did. Cobb Vanth handed it to him without hesitation. “Take it. What’s the plan?”

Mando looked at him through his visor. “You’re going to take care of the woman and child.”

Cobb Vanth’s head tilted in thought. He would do that for him, but it left a question in his mind, “What are YOU gonna do?”

“I don’t know, but wish me luck.” And with that, Mando hit Cobb Vanth’s jet pack with the butt of his weapon, prompting the jet pack to release its condensed air. Cobb Vanth flew through the air unwillingly, leaving the Mandalorian to face the dragon alone.

It did work. Cobb Vanth landed not too far from the Mandalorian’s little family. He ran to them quickly to not only fulfill the man’s wishes, but to watch what would become of the warrior below.

The woman quickly turned to Cobb Vanth, resting her free hand against his armored chest, her motherly instinct taking over, “You alright?”

He nodded, taking off his helmet. “M'Fine.”

Their attention was turned back to the scene in front of them as the dragon let out another cry.

Cobb Vanth had never seen the woman so tense. So fearful. She was shaking violently as she could only watch as her Mandalorian could be killed in front of her. In front of the child.

Mando held the rope to the Bantha as the dragon moved closer and closer. He had to wait for the right moment. Wait for the dragon to get close enough for the plan to work. But the distance between them was shrinking and Mando realized he may not pull this off as well as he had originally thought.

He stayed put as the dragon lunged forward into the dirt, taking the Bantha and the man in its mouth.

A loud cry left the woman’s mouth, coming from deep in her throat. She had seen it all happen in front of her. She had seen her greatest fear come to life. Of all the dangerous things she had seen him do, this was the one to take him.

Cobb Vanth let out a sigh, his body moving toward the woman. He gently took the child from her grasp. His other arm moved around her waist, pushing her back into his armor cover chest to give her stability. He felt her body began to rack with sobs, her hands moving to her face to wipe each tear as it fell.

He felt his heart break at the sight. This was not weeping, or even sobbing. This was the most heart wrenching screams he had ever heard come from a person’s throat. The ground settled, and all that was left was the sand of where he had once stood.

Cobb Vanth began to pull at the woman to pull her away from the scene. She shouldn’t stay here long. She tried to put up a fight, but she knew it was no use.

They began to walk away as they felt the ground move again. He knew he needed to get her as far away from the scene as possible, but he couldn’t help but look back. Either the dragon was ready to fight once more, or something else was to happen.

He pulled her back to where they were quickly.

The dragon emerged from the sand, its mouth opening, revealing electric shocks that came from the inside of its body. Something had flown from its mouth.

Her heart dropped, her tears stopping suddenly.

Her Mando.

He turned in the air to look back at the beast before setting off the detonator.

A huge tremor went through the ground.

She held to Cobb Vanth for support as they watched the dragon explode in the valley.

The Mandalorian landed in front of what was left of its now dead body, the sand falling sand beginning to coat his armor. But he couldn’t care less about that.

He cared about where Cobb Vanth was with his girl and child.

Once he regained his composure, he once again flew into the air, searching for where he had left them. And they were there.

He flew toward them quickly, his heart racing at the sight.

Before he could even land, she was running to him. His feet barely hit the ground before he felt her arms wrap around his neck.

He felt himself relax before his hands moved to her waist, pushing her back, “Hey.” Her eyes met his visor. “Don’t. I… I’m covered in mucus..”

Now he could truly see her face. The tear stains on her soft cheeks. The tremble her bottom lip still held. The sand that coated her hair. And the relieved look she held in her eye.

“I don’t care.”

That was enough for him to pull her to him tightly. Their bodies pressed each other as close as possible, his armor being the only thing that separates them.

Cobb Vanth smiled at the scene, moving himself forward towards the warrior. The child in his arms babbled. “That was some scene you pulled there, Mando.”

The Mandalorian’s helmet shifted up from its resting spot against her head as he looked up at the man. “Got it done, didn’t I?”

Cobb Vanth laughed at that, “Kriff. ‘Bout killed us all. Almost killed her.” His head motioned forward at the girl in Mando’s grasp.

She pulled back from him gently, her body now covered in mucus in certain places. The temporary sticky feeling was worth the permanent relief she had in her heart.

His helmet shifted down to look at her, “That true, Cyar’ika?”

She let out a small sniffle, now slightly embarrassed at the men’s stares, “y…yeah…”

A soft laugh came from Mando’s helmet, his stature relaxing more and more by the second. She was so sweet. So caring for him. His hand moved back down her her waist, leading her off, “C’mon Mesh’la. Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

Cobb Vanth followed behind them with the child, a shit eating grin on his face.

…

A few hours later, the Mandalorian sat at the table of Cobb Vanth’s home. The sheriff himself sat across from him at said table, drinking from a glass of splotchka. The helmet-wearing man’s gaze shifted to the side of the room, where the girl lay on the cot set out for her, her body relaxed and her face holding a peaceful expression as she slept.

“Ya know,” Cobb Vanth said, bringing the Mandalorian out of his thoughts, “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

The Mandolorian’s head shifted back to look at the man. “…seen what?”

Cobb Vanth’s gaze moved to the girl. “Never seen a girl care for a Mandalorian that much.”

Silence filled the room as he considered the sheriff’s words. The man took a drink, continuing his words. “She’s something else, Mando. I’d keep her around.”

Mando became defensive at the talk of her like that. He didn’t like anyone discussing her, even the sheriff. His voice dropped slightly, “I intend to.”

Cobb Vanth grinned, “Good. She’s good for you, for the kid. She’s a pretty thing though.” He leaned on the table to let his voice drop, “Word of advice, Mando? I wouldn’t just keep her around. I’d keep her very close. Dangerous to be traveling with a defenseless thing like that. Pretty, smart, caring. Anybody would snatch her up if they got the chance.”

“They won’t get the chance.”

Cobb Vanth nods, “I believe you.”

…

The next morning, the girl awoke to see the Mandalorian sitting at the table, polishing one of his blasters with a rag. She stretched, letting out a soft sigh. His head perked up to look at her. She felt his gaze on her, watching her every move as if she could disappear if he turned his back.

“‘Morning, Mando.”

He nods his head to her, “Good morning, Cyare.”

She stands up, stretching her legs with another sigh. Her hair was ruffled and her eyes still puffy from the previous day’s excursion, but he still admired her as if she was an angel.

“Cyar’ka…?”

She moved to the table to sit, her body now residing in the chair beside him, “…Mando?”

A sigh left his lips. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say.

“Were you truly worried for me yesterday? You mourned?”

Her eyes flashed with embarrassment before they went back. Her hand began to rub her leg like she does when she’s anxious. He had seen her do it many times before. His hand reached out to steady it under the table.

“…tell me, Cyare.”

Her eyes looked to his visor where she thought his eyes would be before a small nod of her head gave him the message he wished he would get.

His own helmet nods now. He’s never been good at this kind of thing, but now he was going to have to learn.

“Thank you.”

Her eyebrows knit in confusion. “…what?”

His voice came out more confident the second time, “I said ‘Thank you.’”

“…why?”

She couldn’t see his jaw clench under his helmet in thought.

“…You’ve made me worry, Cyar’ika.”

She let out a soft laugh, “And that’s something to be thankful for?”

He nods, his voice strong, “Very much so.”

She wasn’t sure what he meant. Her face must have shown her thoughts because the Mandalorian continued.

“…I have things I worry for now. So, I will say it again. Thank you.”

“…the child, you mean? You’re thankful for the child?”

He nods, his helmet moving side to side, “Yes. I am. Of course. But that’s not what I meant.”

She leaned forward onto the table, “I don’t think I understand, Mando.”

His hand reached out, touching her cheek as it had the day before. Only now, it stayed there. “I worry for you, Mesh’la. Every time I look away, I fear you’ll be taken from me, as if you’re just a dream. But you’re not a dream. You’re here. And… you care for the child in ways I never could. You make him feel safe, and loved and…,” he stops considering if he should say his next words, “… I want to make you feel safe and loved, Mesh’la. I do. I can’t describe how worried I was for you. If I had made the wrong decision and brought you two to your death yesterday. It eats at me, knowing that one day, I may not be there when something happens. When something goes wrong. I worry for you every second. If you’re eating. If you rest enough. If you’re happy. If you’re tired. If you’re scared. If you care for me as much as I do for you…”

Silence falls in the room as both of them are taking in what he said. Even Mando didn’t think that would come out. But it had. And it had all been true.

She takes a deep breath, “I care for you, Mand-“

“Din.”

Her eyes widen, “…Din?”

An audible breath leaves his lungs at the sound of his name on her lips. He nods.

She continues, “I thought you died.”

“You thought I’d leave you and the child?”

He said it with no hesitation. As if it was a ridiculous thought for her to be worried about.

“…I watched it swallow you whole, M…. Din.”

“I’d crawl out from the grave back to you.”

She was utterly speechless. He held no hesitation to him. He was so confident in his words. It left her a little breathless at his wording.

“…you…you would?”

He nods, “I’d do a lot worse for you.”

More silence falls over the room before a realization is in her eyes.

“Where’s the child?”

He wished she could see his lips pull into a grin under the mask. “He’s fine. Cobb Vanth has him.”

She relaxes in her chair at that. Her own lips pull into a smile of her own, “…Strange little family we’ve made, Din. Don’t you think?”

His hand goes over hers, his gloved fingers toying with hers.

“I’d rather worry over you two than anyone else in the galaxy.”

........................................................................

#din djarin imagine #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin #mandalorian imagine #mando #mandolarian fanfiction #the mandolorian #mando x reader #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandolarian

235 notes · View notes

silverbladexyz · 6 months

Note

HEYY! ok hear me out… Dazai x fem reader who just like radiates god and dom energy and he’s rlly down bad for her and the agency are just 👁👄👁 from Dazai’s total submission to her but she’s just brushing it off as a joke and giggling with him.

I owe a huge thanks to @sariel626 for helping me with this oneshot. I hope you like it anon! 💕

The image used does not belong to me. It belongs to it's original owner.

TW: Mentions of suicide and death. Dazai being Dazai. Female reader

An unexpected ploy

It was just another normal day in the Armed Detective Agency.

Currently, it's members were all busy investigating a case regarding a rather bizarre murder involving a government official.

"Now, miss, we're going to have to ask some more questions about what you have witnessed. Did you see anything else that was strange when you stumbled upon the scene of crime?"

Kunikida, notebook in hand and a pen in the other, was getting ready to write down any more observations that the witness may have remembered.

The witness, a young woman in her 20's who went by the name of Mitsuki, shakily opened her mouth to answer.

Only to be interrupted by a certain detective.

"Ah! Who is this lovely woman? No, lovely is too insulting of a word to describe your perfect beauty~"

Well, it was a normal day until the suicidal maniac just had to intrude.

An irk mark formed on Kunikida's head as he started to berate Dazai for rudely interrupting the conversation, but Dazai was Dazai, and he never listened to the man's lectures. Instead, he knelt down before the witness, his lips curling up into a handsome smile as he gently took her hand in his.

"My belladonna, despite all the stress and horror that you went through, you still manage to look radiant and ephemeral. My day has been brightened up with just your pure beauty."

"Would you perhaps join me in a lover's suicide-"

"Dazai?"

The man seemed to instantly perk up at your voice.

"Yes, my belladonna?" He focused his charming gaze upon you.

Exuding a calm and assertive aura, you smiled back at him. It was a smile that could get many people on their knees before you.

"What are you doing? You know full well that she doesn't need to be seduced. In fact, it's the last thing that she needs right now."

"..."

"... You're right! How foolishly selfish I've been! My deepest apologies, my dear; I do find you beautiful, truly I do," Dazai clasped the Mitsuki's hand to his chest, looking at her with a somewhat apologetic look in his eyes.

"But I've found someone much more charming and attractive!"

"E-eh?!"

The bandage squandering machine had instead sauntered to your side, grabbing your hand and gazing at you with such utter adoration in his eyes that it made you chuckle.

"Y/N-san, my belladonna, how about we commit a double suicide instead? Your confidence, your gorgeousness, your everything has captivated me and I fall in love with you deeper with each passing day. This really is none other than-" He was cut off with a giggle.

Dazai's eyes widened as he saw a beautiful smile form on your face, and your eyes seemed to shine as you looked back at him.

"Ah! You really are such an angel! No, a goddess! What did I ever do to deserve to be graced by your presence!" He clutched his chest dramatically, making fervent gestures with his other hand. The rest of the Armed Detective Agency members sweatdropped as they saw this scene play out.

"H-hey, is Dazai-san really alright?..." A concerned Tanizaki whispered to an equally-as-concerned Atsushi, who nervously watched the whole scene play out.

A loud thud! sounded throughout the Agency.

Dazai had been thrown across the room by a ticked off Kunikida.

"Ouch! Kunikida-kun, why did you have to interrupt-"

"Quit messing around! We must gather as much information as we can from the witness, and here you are being an immature idiot! Besides, flirting is highly inappropriate within business grounds! Especially in the middle of a rather important case!" Kunikida continued to lecture Dazai, who merely sat there and retorted with many childish statements.

"My apologies, miss, my idiotic co-worker is always like this," you said, apologising to the stunned Mitsuki, who was watching this unfold as if pigs had started to fly.

"But Y/N-san really is lovely! Ne, Y/N-san, you still haven't said whether you were going to commit double suicide with me yet!" Dazai eyed you from where he sat on the ground, and you discreetly smirked.

"I'll commit double suicide with you only if you complete your paperwork."

The silence that followed afterwards was deafening.

"... Y-you aren't serious, are you?..." Tanizaki managed to stutter out, still processing the fact that you had actually proposed that. Mitsuki made a small noise of agreement, staring at you as if you'd grown three heads.

You merely locked eyes with Dazai, neither of you saying anything for a full five seconds.

The tension that followed was thick enough to be cut with a butter knife.

A ping! sounded. You opened your phone, and nodded.

"Well, that was lovely and all. But I'm afraid that our little act ends here."

Dazai broke the silence, his eyes now dark as he turned towards Mitsuki.

"Mitsuki-san, you were almost perfect in diverting any suspicion away from you. But I'm afraid that despite how believable your story was, it wasn't enough to be fully convincible."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Atsushi about to interrupt, but you silenced him with a glance. The rest of the Armed Detective Agency kept quiet, as they trusted that Dazai knew what he was doing.

"N-now hold on a moment! Why are you suddenly accusing me? I didn't do anything! I told you already, I had only-"

"-Stumbled upon the body of the government official as you were heading home from work," you gracefully cut in, rising from your chair as you fixed your gaze upon the witness, who was wide-eyed and trembling.

"You said that the government official was dumped in some small back-alley. But that was where you went wrong." You nodded at Dazai, who continued your explanation.

"But that was suspicious in itself already. If the victim was a government official, criminals would want to avoid the body being found in the first place. Why? Because the government would then be performing a search high and low for the murderer, using their best resources to find whoever killed one of their own. And criminals hate exposure; especially by someone as powerful and ruthless as the government. The body would normally have been disposed of completely, leaving no trace for the government to find."

"But how does this have anything to do with me? Maybe the murderer was in a rush and simply dumped the body in the alleyway. Or-"

"The body wasn't haphazardly dumped. It was placed neatly on the ground, and besides, your accomplice was always one to do things in an orderly manner. Am I right, Mitsuki-san?"

"W-what?! What is this nonsense?! I didn't even know who the government official was-"

"I thought that it was too much of a coincidence that you were the one to walk by a seemingly strange murder." You smiled at the lady, who looked at you bewilderedly.

"So I asked someone that I knew to look into any recent conversations you had which may be linked to this case. And lo and behold, my suspicions were correct. Despite your messages to your accomplice being encrypted and deleted afterwards, they were easily found by Katai-san." Taking out your phone, you showed her the evidence that Katai had sent you.

A message on the 11th of May, 7:16PM. "I'll need you to take care of a person for me. Best to make it quick and seem like the work of an underground organisation."

Another message on the 13th of May, 5:30 AM. "I've changed my mind. Dispose of the body in the alleyway near my lodging."

You put your phone back into your pocket.

"Even if you might protest and say we have no proof that you were the one who sent the messages, Katai-san had managed to track down and locate your accomplice. He's currently being interrogated by the military police, and it won't be long before he spills the beans. You can also claim that your accomplice would never rat you out, but that's alright. This case has already been solved." You smirked as you continued your deduction.

"The reason you targeted the government official was because of a scandal that he was involved in with your brother. But since it was a government official, this entire matter was swept under the rug, and your brother was framed. However, since you yourself had no power and evidence to prove that the scandal was tampered with, you opted for murder instead. Which led you to conspire with a friend of yours, and for him to do the dirty work while you played the part of an innocent, unsuspecting bystander who so-happened to pass by the scene of crime. Am I correct so far?"

Mitsuki gave a dry chuckle, her face now bearing no remains of the faux act she had put up earlier. She had given up, now that her thirst for revenge was satiated.

"But how did you manage to gather the evidence in such a short time?" You looked at Atsushi, who was still trying to figure out the entirety of this plot twist.

"Ah, that? Well, since I knew Mitsuki-san here would immediately disappear and cover up her traces after we finished questioning her, I had to find some way to stall in order to get the required proof. That was when Dazai-kun had the brilliant idea of flirting with Mitsuki and me so that the Agency would be held up in asking for the witness's account; therefore giving Katai-san adequate time to retrieve what was needed for this case." You smiled at Dazai, who in turn merely smiled back.

"You were close to escaping. But it was the Armed Detective Agency you were up against. And the Armed Detective Agency never fails to find the culprits, whether they are dancing in plain sight or are hiding behind the shadows." Your gaze pierced into the young lady as you delivered your final statement.

"It's checkmate, Mitsuki."

This was rather fun and interesting to experiment with, and I hope reader's personality was to your liking. See you next time, my dear readers! 💓

@circinuus @celesttes @sariel626 @i-just-like-goats @dazaiyohane @irethepotato @xxelfmamaxx @ashthemadwriter @nekokinax

#silverbladexyz #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x female reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader

211 notes · View notes

leggerefiore · 7 months

Note

How would the Pokémon Villain react if they dreamed that their plans were working but their partner died and then they weke up and their partner asked them what they dreamed but they didn't know anything about their plans?

anon, I know its a minor typo but I'm fighting back the urge to Ask Which Villain.

cw: angst, temporary death of reader (its just a dream), a lot of men crying inside but with comfort

characters: Lysandre, Maxie, Archie, Cyrus, Volo

🔥Lysandre🍷

☕️ His heart raced as he watched the Ultimate Weapon absorb the energy it needed. Everything was going according to plan. Scientists and grunts were dead silent, unsure how to process all of what was to come or stricken silent in supposed excitement. Lysandre's preservation of beauty was soon to follow. A world without ugly things… His fists clenched. It felt surreal to consider how everything that he had dreamed of would soon come to fruition. Yet, how he still wished it need not come to these extremes. The terror above the HQ was now irrelevant to him.

☕️ That was until his admins began to alert him to an issue on the lowest floor. Someone had apparently broken into the legendary pokemon's room. They had somehow overpowered all his admins. Marching down to the lowest level, he entered the room to see the cocoon glowing with light. He froze at who stood before the awakening legendary. Who had let you even make it down to this level? The dark and flying type awoke from its slumber with a bright light swelling across the room. He shielded himself from it. However, when the light died down, the sight that laid before him was sickening.

☕️ You laid on the floor in a strange position, completely unmoving. The legendary let out a bellow. Lysandre nearly collapsed to his knees as he felt tears burn his eyes. He dared to approach your body and attempt to shake you awake. Your chest did not rise. Your face was frozen in terror. There were many sacrifices he was more than prepared to make for his beautiful world. You were not one of them. His gaze harshly shifted to the legendary. If the tales of resurrection were true, then perhaps there was still a way alongside gaining his perfect world.

☕️ He prepared himself to force Yveltal back into its slumber but could barely react when its body began to glow an ominous crimson. He barely had time to realise it was charging an attack. Something strange came over him as he leaned over your body, convinced that this was an attempt to destroy your body and prevent his new plans from happening. An eerie red beam of light sprung forth from the legendary, and he could register nothing further in his mind.

☕️ He awoke up suddenly, rising up from the couch in a groggy state. An evening sun hung outside of the window, illuminating the city of Lumiose outside in a peaceful scene. His heart pounded in his chest. The smell of coffee hung around the room as a door creaked open. Turning his head, he spied you entering the living room with a tray. A small cup of coffee and a sweet pastry laid on it. He felt himself calming down instantly. All was well. A dream, of course. That had just been a horrible dream.

☕️ You sat down the tray on the coffee table and rushed over to his side. Your hand pressing to his cheeks relaxed him immensely. His hand came over yours. The idea of losing you… A truly beautiful being in this world… It felt as if a knife was driven into his heart. “My love,” your voice was music to his ears, “Are you alright? You're crying!” Your thumb came to wipe away his tears. Lysandre felt you were too good for him. That is why you were not allowed to know the more grizzly details of his plans.

☕️ “I had a bad dream,” he gave a basic explanation, not wanting to further explore the details. You sat beside him on the couch, gently leaning against his arm. He brought his other to grab the hot coffee from the tray. Quietly drinking a bit, the bitter yet oddly nutty flavour of the beverage calmed his nerves. “Ah, this is wonderful, darling,” he complimented you, “I feel much better now.” You smiled sweetly at him. Such a sight needed to be preserved. Nothing would take it from him.

☀️Maxie🌋

🪨 There was nothing but excitement racing through Maxie's mind as he held up the Red Orb towards the petrified Continent pokemon. The way it resonated with super ancient pokemon to awaken it from its ceaseless slumber left him feeling something after the constant back and forth that child who had insisted on getting in his way. They fell back at his side, while the magma oddly swirled around the pokemon as it regained its colours after countless centuries of slumber. Maxie could finally bring about more land for humanity's continued growth.

🪨 He almost forgot about another in the cave, still with him and the child. Archie and Tabitha both ran out after he made it clear he was not backing down from his intentions. Groudon unexpectedly shifted the magma around it to escape to the surface from the Seafloor Cavern. It spewed the molten rock forward where you stood much too close to the ledge. Your screams barely registered alongside that of the child. Maxie did not know whether to cover his own eyes or those of the child.

🪨 It was then that his communicator began to ring out with concerns about the horrifying drought that Groudon summoned forth. The child had fled the cave after the grizzly sight of what happened to you. The concerns from Tabitha before he acted rang out in his head as he gazed at your body. His admin had brought you here to try to stop him. He did not wish to leave you here, yet he needed to act. A shaky breath left him as he departed from the cavern back to the surface.

🪨 His horror grew worse at the intense heat that swelled over Hoenn from the burning sky above. Groudon truly had brought forth the power to dispel the oceans, but he quickly realised that would mean the end for all life on earth. Your life was only the first of many that would come. He realised where Groudon was going and rushed away with the other two men to try to fix this. Except as they attempted to move away, the sun only got hotter and hotter, and he could feel the strength being ripped out of him by the sudden loss of his partner and the harsh heat. It was not long until he collapsed to the ground. Yet, suddenly, the ground unexpectedly opened a fissure beneath him. His name being yelled by both Archie and Tabitha rang in his ears as he fell to whatever depths were to come.

🪨 He jolted awake in his bed, heavy breaths entering and leaving his lungs. The clock on the nightstand showed an early morning hour. Had that all been a dream? It had felt so real. The smell of burning flesh stinging his nostrils still. Before he could process anything more from the nightmare, something to the side of him shifted. His head whipped around to see you pressing yourself up and rubbing at your eyes. A yawn came from you. More relief crashed onto him. You were alive and well.

🪨 You hand pressing to his upper arm to press yourself up. For a moment, you just looked at him in mild confusion before your expression shifted. You suddenly reached a hand to wipe away tears from his face. Had he been crying? “What's wrong, Maxie?” you fretted over him quietly, stirring up more. Your hand brushed a few red strands out from his face as his mind rushed about how to reply. His nightmare felt too surreal to describe to you.

🪨 “... I had a nightmare,” Maxie mumbled out after a while. His hand grabbed your own as he felt the skin there silently. You were alive and well. He had yet to awaken Groudon. “I'm sorry for waking you up,” he apologised as you leaned forward to press a kiss to his temple. Ease and calmness began to wash over him. Maybe… Maybe he should discuss this more with Tabitha rather than running head first. You would definitely be kept away no matter what.

🌧Archie🌊

💧 Nothing could quite beat the high he felt as he held the Blue Orb high in the air within the walls of the cavern. Shelly and Maxie may have run out in whatever panic had taken over them, but he knew this had to work. A paradise for pokemon was just about to come. He could control Kyogre. Archie knew he could. The water around the sleeping pokemon swirled as the dull colouration from its slumber faded back to its dark blue. The oceans would be protected, and pokemon would flourish.

💧 Yet, as it awoken, he felt himself panic as it escaped the cave. His communicator went crazy as reports poured in about the sheer intensity of the downpour that had been summoned. He could barely believe his eyes when he came to the surface to see what was unfolding. Much to his horror, it was as described. And even worse, somehow you had ended up standing with the other two people. Yet, before he could say a word to question anything, a large wave overtook the shallow part of the sea they stood on.

💧 The ocean swallowed you whole before him, almost like it was targetted. Shelly tried to reach for you as the water pulled you away but fell just out of reach. He rushed over to dive into the waters to pull you out himself, but there was no time as you sank further and further. His lungs met their capacity as he was forced to resurface with a heavy heart. The water made him feel ill as it surrounded him. Shelly and Maxie forced him back onto the shallow area as he stared into the depths of the water. It was not possible. He refused to accept that this had happened.

💧 A scream echoed out from Maxie as another wave came crashing over. This one is bigger than the last. Archie tried everything to escape the force of the water, yet even he knew how next to impossible it was. It became more and more difficult to struggle as he realised that he had doomed the world. The flooding would not stop. Nothing could survive. The darkness of the ocean became an eerie reminder of what he had done as everything began to slip away from him.

💧 Archie shot awake at his desk, staring at the laptop sitting there in confusion. Reports from his scientists and Shelly were still open as he rose up from the slumped over position he was in. What time was it? Apparently, midafternoon, according to his clock. He yawned. Getting up, he wandered over to the other side of his room to see you laying in bed on your phone. Were you bored? He would prefer that to whatever he had just witnessed.

💧 Your attention shifted from the phone to him as you spied your boyfriend and had awoken from his impromptu nap. At first, you smiled, but it quickly fell as you threw off the blanket to rush over to him. Both your hands cupped his face, brushing against his beard. Archie was confused until you moved one of your hands to wipe away something. “Archie?” you spoke his name softly, “Are you okay?” Was he crying? He felt more upset by the fact that he had worried you now.

💧 “I'm fine, Luvdisc,” he reassured you and pulled your hands away from his face. Instead, he squeezed you into a tight hug. What a nightmare. His beloved ocean took away his lover from him. It would never happen in reality. That was what he wanted to believe. Archie pressed a kiss to your forehead, making you laugh as his beard tickled you. “You can swim, right?” he asked, “If you can't, I'm teaching ya right now.” He would make sure you were safe and prepared for anything.

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ If he dared to allow himself a moment of expression of his feelings, he would say the pure elation ran through him as the deity of time and the deity of space were restrained before him by the grasp of the Red Chain. They struggled desperately to free themselves, but it was fruitless. His will was something immovable; his dream just in his grasp. A perfect, obedient world was soon to be recreated from this world that was corrupted by foolishness of spirit. He ignored whatever discussion his commanders had fallen into behind him.

☄️ Yet, his moment wad ripped from him as a being of shadow began to emerge from the ground beneath him. Its ominous glowing eyes filled with rage as it came forth. An attack was directed at him, clearly wishing to stop him from completing his plans. He braced himself, more than ready to take whatever the odd being would hit him with. It never came, however. His body crashed against the stone beneath him as someone shoved him out of the way. Cyrus's body felt like lead when he realised who it was.

☄️ Your body was consumed by the shadowy being before his eyes. One moment, you were there, but in the next, nothing remained of either of you. He heard a sound echoing throughout the annals of Spear Pillar. For a moment, he wondered what it was. That was until Mars rushed over to check on him. He then realised it was him. A scream had worn his throat raw. The blue-haired man stared at where you once were in a trace. He stumbled over and fell to his knees. His fist pounded against the stone. Why had you done that? What foolish emotions had taken over your mind to make you act in such a manner?!

☄️ Another scream echoed out through the area, but he found himself too disoriented from everything to figure out whether it was Mars or Jupiter who had screamed. What he did notice was a shadow growing over him. He raised his head up to see the shadowy form staring down at him again, clearly aware it missed its target. Rage swirled within Cyrus from his interrupted plans and the loss of you. Within a moment, he, too, joined you into whatever hellish realm the being was linked to. His pursuit of perfection was gone.

☄️ Cyrus shot awake from the awful dream as he pushed back the blanket that was on top of me. The room was dim as he shifted to sit on the couch. His head turned to the kitchen where light bled out from. Getting up, he felt himself rush into the room. You stood there in the bright scene, watching as your Rotom possessed the toaster oven on the counter. He felt relief crash onto him like a boulder. The foolish weakness he allowed himself stood before him, unharmed and laughing.

☄️ Your head turned to him with a bright grin. It fell almost instantly, however. You rushed over to him and gently latched onto his arm. “Cy…?” your voice was soft, “Are you okay?” Your free hand rose to cup his cheek. He felt your thumb wipe away tears that had apparently formed under his eyes. Cyrus felt weak. The feeling twisted within him disgustingly. Memories of youth uncomfortably springing forth. Even Rotom had floated over to check on him. His perfect world… He needed to be careful. No errors would be made, nor would anything go unaccounted for. Your lips softly pecked his cheek.

☄️ “… Just an unfortunate dream, is all,” he replied after forcing down the dread that wished so desperately to consume him. Cyrus would not let it. He needed to be the example of his world. His spirit had to be suppressed once more. For now, however, he would allow himself to bathe in your gentle affection. A place to refresh his mind. You did not know anything about his plans, after all. You would never have any reason to appear at Spear Pillar.

💫Volo📜

⭐️ It should have been a moment of pure glory and ecstasy for the descendant of the ancient Sinnoh people. He had called forth the creator of all – The true Alpha Pokemon itself. Its glorious form, something that was placed beyond his words as he stared at the deity in wonder. How much of his youth had he lost to his growing obsession with the shining pokemon before him now? He swallowed as it landed before him, forced out by Giratina and its plates, all gathered together at the Temple of Sinnoh. His curiosity was quenched, but now came his perfect world. Volo could weep with joy.

⭐️ Yet, the moment of glory was destroyed in an instant. The harsh green eyes of the god turned past him. He was nothing before it. Instead, its gaze was trained onto the unconscious person laid carefully on the floor of the temple. You had tried to foolishly stop him, but he easily proved to defeat you. Your team fell to his own, and a quick hypnosis from his Spiritomb had you in your current state. He wondered if Arceus was debating how its chosen hero had been so easily defeated. Before he could further process it, light began to gather above you.

⭐️ His heart stopped as countless shots of light rained down upon your defenceless body. The scent of iron was heavy in the air, and you lay eerily still. A cry came from Arceus. Volo screamed. His throat felt raw as he rushed to your side. This was not possible. Arceus would not attack its chosen one. Why? His breath hitched. The answer was plainly obvious. It was you he had come to care about in this world and no other. A final way to punish the blond for his sins and desire to become a deity. Tears poured from his eyes as he held your lifeless body to his own.

⭐️ His gaze returned to the deity to find it now gone. Rage boiled inside him. No. He refused to accept this. You had been used as a form to mock and harm him. He would never obey a cruel god who allowed people to suffer. Just as he began to call for Giratina, something felt strange. He fell to his knees as he saw the ball of light swelling above his head. As it began to rain down, he felt his anger swell into a strong, resentful curse.

⭐️ He startled awake as you sat over him, looking at him with a worried expression. The smell of the crisp air of the morning stung his nose as he saw the flap of the tent open. A light snow had descended upon the highlands. He let out a soft breath. A nightmare. Not his first, and likely not his last. Your touch soothed away his fears. The feeling honestly inspired more dread than the nightmare had. Volo truly was attached to you. What this would mean long-term was beyond him.

⭐️ Your voice was soft as you spoke to him, “… You were crying, Volo.” His mouth went dryer somehow. He brought his hand to wipe away his tears. Shame boiled in his chest. The idea of showing such bold vulnerability to you terrified him, yet it had happened against his will. Somehow, he felt even more that Arceus was mocking him. You pulled him into your warm embrace, gently combing a hand through his freed golden locks. His shoulders relaxed.

⭐️ “It was nothing,” Volo finally replied after a few moments, “Just a dream.” Reality would be different, after all. He would subjugate Arceus's power as his own and create the world he wished to see. His exposed eye met yours. No harm would ever befall you there, not at his side and under his protection. You did not seem entirely convinced by his words but left it alone.

#pokemon x reader #lysandre x reader #volo x reader #archie x reader #cyrus x reader #maxie x reader #pokemon lysandre x reader #pokemon archie x reader #pokemon maxie x reader #pokemon volo x reader #pokemon cyrus x reader #pokemon/reader #lysandre/reader #volo/reader #cyrus/reader #archie/reader #maxie/reader

234 notes · View notes

thebearer · 9 months

Note

if we're going for soft dom carmy, what about reader using a safeword and carmy looking after them?

i'm kinda struggling thinking of many scenarios where this happens just because i believe that carmen would fall into the worst kinda dom drop if you did. i don't think it would happen often because he's so meticulous with sex in general (with everything, really lol) but esp when it's a little rougher of a scene- when he's a dom.

i think carmen would be very cautious when you played, especially with impact play or anything kinda rough-ish. he is very careful with watching how you react. he's gotten comfortable with knowing when you've had enough or just the slightest changes in tone.

with that being said, i could 1000% see you safe wording with carmen when he's kinda using it as stress relief. i feel like that's part of his thing, like it's an emotional release and he's in control, so he enjoys the dynamic when you do play.

he comes home just fed up. it was stressful at work, some shitty critic left a half ass review that soured his mood. sydney and richie got into it, and on top of it all, it's mikey's birthday coming up and carmen is not coping very well. he decides to play with you, and while you're a little aware he's stressed, you're not worried about it.

he doesn't spank you or choke you, he knows better than to ever do that when he's like this. but he does something he never does- degrades you. one of the appeals for you, is while he'll call you a "bad girl" or "needy" or "desperate" sometimes during a scene, he's never actually mean.

tonight is different. he's started off rough, no warnings or easing into it. no he's abrasive with his maneuvering of you. which is fine, i mean it's not what you particularly prefer, but you can take it if it helps him feel better. it's alright until he starts talking, low grunts through gritted teeth that leave you whimpering.

"stupid fuckin' whore, you know that?" carmen sneers, his pace punishing with every snap of his hips. "useless. this is all your good for."

you can hardly believe it's your carmen speaking to you, half convinced this is some twisted nightmare you were in. it wasn't, you were reminded, his hand yanking on your hair, pulling you back towards him.

"you hear me?"

"yes." you squeak.

"yeah? you just fuckin' ignoring me now too? not gonna fuckin' listen?" carmen growls, one hand around your jaw, pressing you to his chest. "think you're better than me? know better than i do? you fuckin' don't, alright? don't know anything, just a dumb little slut. only good for this right here. takin' daddy's cock, isn't that right?"

you could feel the tears prick your eyes. any pleasure you were feeling was gone. everything felt so violating... so wrong. "no, carm, s-stop."

"what? the fuck did you just call me?" carmen snapped, fingers curling around your jaw.

"carmen, stop. red, stop." you babbled. "red, carmen, i said red. stop."

carmen halted, his grasp falling off of you, watching you scramble away from him towards the end of the bed.

"baby?" carmen's eyes were wide, an eerie calmness in his voice as he scanned over your body. "a-are you ok? fuck, are-are you hurt? c'mere-"

"no." you barked, lifting a hand to stop him. your knees to your chest, covering yourself from him. you felt too vulnerable. "just... i don't want you to touch me." you shuddered.

"are you ok? do-do i need to do something?" carmen's hands were shaking, every ounce of anger her felt gone, fear flooding his system in strong waves that crashed over him.

"why would you say that to me?" you croak, tears streaming down his face. "what did i... is that how you feel about me?"

"no, fuck, no." carmen's hands are shaking, running down his face. "i-i-i thought you would like that. the, uh, the mean shit. i thought you liked it wh-when i did that-"

"-when you called me stupid? and useless?" the tremble in your lip makes carmen's stomach lurch.

"i-i would never... baby, please, you know- you know i didn't..." carmen's chest constricts, strangling his words. he's on the edge of a panic attack, one he's trying to keep down because the last thing he needs is to be consoled. especially when he's the one who's fucked up.

you wipe your cheeks with your wrist, still shaking with your own emotions. "i... i need you to leave me alone for a little bit." you look at him. "i just... i need to calm down, and... and i don't want you near me right now."

carmen feels like he might sob. the burn in his nose tells him he is. but he nods anyways, tongue too thick in his mouth to say anything other than another apology. he doesn't go to the living room or guest room like you think. no, carmen goes to the bathroom and you hear him retching into the toilet through sobs moments later.

it takes him weeks to feel comfortable even playing a little rough again, and when you do- after you beg him to- he is so careful and checks in every second.

while it doesn't happen very much at all, i think the very few times it does, it would be bc of something like that.

#thebearer #bearblahs #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto smut #dom!carmen berzatto x sub!reader #dom!carmen berzatto #carmy smut #the bear

249 notes · View notes

dark-frosted-heart · 26 days

Text

Crown’s S Class Mission - Roger Barel (Premium end)

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this.

Roger: Hold up. Not gonna let you kill my cute student. Now then, it’s time for Instructor Roger’s fun and exciting punishment.

Master of the estate: Oliver, shut that guy up!

Instructor Oliver: The one who needs to shut up is you.

Oliver grabbed the man and pinned him to the floor.

Master of the estate: *cough* Wha-what are you doing!

Instructor Oliver: I won't feel ashamed anymore!

Kate: Instructor Oliver…

Roger: All the members involved have been captured. They’ll be dealt with properly, but first, they gotta be punished for their crimes.

The master of the estate and all members involved were lined up on the platform.

They all had their wrists bound by rope.

Noblewomen: Huh…what’s this all about? What happened…

Roger: These guys were handing illegal substances to the women of this club. Therefore, we’re gonna hold an extremely punishing Spartan boot camp! Endurance squats—start.

Roger’s shout was the signal for those guilty to start squatting.

No matter how many squats were done, Roger didn’t stop.

Roger: It’s hard? No way, we’re just getting started.

(This is a scene from Hell)

Roger’s sadistic, egoistic, and unforgiving.

But he’s not the kind that enjoys tormenting others.

The evidence was in the calmness reflected in his eyes despite his harsh words.

(Ah, I see)

(Roger’s…really pissed)

Master of the estate: Huff, huff…To humiliate a man like this…

Roger: What does being a man have to do with this?

Master of the estate: …?

Roger: Sure, physically, there’s differences between men and women. But those are individual differences. Just like how women are oppressed, we men have our absurd matters as well.

Instructor Oliver: That’s right… Sometimes we’re all assumed to be strong.

Roger: However, that doesn’t give you the right to look down on others. There’s a lot of people in this club working on getting stronger. I got a cute pet dog who’s just like everyone else here.

(He’s not talking about me is he…?)

Roger: They’re the type that gets frustrated and beaten down by a lot of things, but picks themself back up and tries to be strong. No one’s got the right to stop someone that keeps moving forward and wants to be strong.

(Ah…)

How many times have I looked pathetic in front of Roger?

But every time, Roger would provide support from a distance.

(I’m really no match for him…)

Roger: Besides, I heard that the more stylish you are with women, the more popular you’ll be. Isn’t that right, Kate?

Kate: Hehe, that’s not a very Roger thing to say.

Roger: Well let me be just this once. Kate, what should we do with these guys?

Kate: A sin is a sin and evil is evil. We need to condemn all of them.

Roger: As you command.

After that harsh punishment, all those involved were turned over to the police.

The Beauty Muscle Club was dissolved.

The main culprit was to pay a large amount of compensation and was surely never going to see the light again.

And the bodies subjected to Roger’s punishing boot camp would find themselves useless for some time.

Victor, who had rushed over to clean up the mess, spread his arms out.

Victor: Kate, Roger! Ah…I’m glad you’re alright.

Kate: Thank you for cleaning up after us.

Victor: No need to thank me. It’s my job. Oh, that’s right. Here you go, Roger. A special reward like I promised.

I blinked at the check Victor handed him.

Kate: I didn’t hear anything about a special reward!

Roger: ‘Cause we didn’t tell you. This is gonna help fund my research on curses since it gets pretty expensive.

Kate: Geez…you’re so shrewd.

Victor: Kate, I’d like to give you a special reward too…

Kate: Victor, I don’t deserve it.

Victor: Why do you think so?

Kate: Roger told me not to do anything reckless, but I got carried away by my emotions…

Roger: Hahaha. That slap was refreshing.

Kate: It’s not funny…

Roger: It is. Just laugh and forget about that asshole. But Kate’s right. She’ll get her reward later. Because a student who misbehaves definitely needs to be punished, doesn’t she?

Kate: Huh? Woah… Roger?!

Roger threw me over his shoulder and walked away from Victor.

Victor: I haven’t seen that innocent look on Roger’s face in a while. Perhaps I can leave him to Kate.

Kate: H-hey, please put me down!

Roger: You sure are yapping a lot.

Roger sat me down on a sofa. He then sat down next to me and crossed his legs.

Roger: However, I prefer you making a fuss like this instead of depressed.

(Ah, there he goes again…picking me back up)

Roger: The most important thing about reflecting is finding areas for improvement.

Kate: Yes, I agree. What I need to improve on this time is…getting emotional.

Roger: You have a point, but that’s not it. Kate, you can rely on me.

Kate: You…?

Roger: Being strong doesn’t mean doing things alone. I think being able to rely on someone’s also a strength.

Roger’s words touched my heart like gentle rain.

Kate: If I ask…will you help me?

Roger: Of course. I’m your owner after all.

Kate: There you go treating me like a dog again…

(...He’s so sneaky. I would’ve cried if he didn’t say something like that)

Roger: Alright, time to wrap up Roger’s gracious lecture and get to the punishment.

Kate: ……Huh?

Roger: What’s with that dumb look? There’s a difference between reflection and punishment, you know?

Kate: A-anyway, are you going to do something perverted again?

Roger: If that’s what you’re expecting, then I’ll have to meet it.

Roger set down his hunting rifle and removed his vest…exposing his shoulder.

(Eh?)

It wasn’t bleeding, but it was red, as if something chafed against it.

(That’s the shoulder that supports his rifle isn’t it? Did it…)

Roger: I was in a rush to save you that my rifle scraped me when I shot it.

Kate: Sorry…

Roger: I don’t want an apology. Instead…lick it, Kate.

Kate: There’s no way licking will heal it…

Roger: Hmm, not gonna nurse me better?

(That look on his face…He’s totally enjoying this)

(But it’s my fault this happened. So…)

Kate: Okay… Please stay still.

I turned toward Roger and placed a hand on his large shoulder.

And then I ran my tongue over the reddened spot.

Kate: Nn…

Roger’s firm shoulder made me realize just how different he was from me.

(Why do I feel weird when I’m just licking him…?)

Roger: …

Kate: Roger…?

Roger: You’re pretty unreliable.

Kate: You think you're strong-willed, but you're easily manipulated.

(That’s because of you, Roger)

(Because of Roger…?)

Roger: The thought of you listening to anyone worries me. Besides…you’re defenseless and naive.

Kate: Eh? Ah…

Before I could react, the laces on my blouse were undone and my underwear was pulled down.

Roger: They’re already hard. What’s making you so excited?

Kate: No, I…

Roger: Geez… I’ll need to discipline you on not feeling something whenever someone touches you.

Kate: Huh? Kyaa.

Roger turned me away from him and placed a hand on my butt. Roger: This is your punishment, Kate. No matter what I do, you’re not allowed to take pleasure from it.

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikevil jp #ikevil translations #roger barel #ikevil roger

82 notes · View notes

the-laughing-lunatic · 30 days

Note

OH MY GOD TF2 WRITER!!! You are my savior.

ANYWAYS I WAS THINKING ABOUT THE MERCS (more specifically Scout, Spy, Sniper & Engineer if you don’t wanna do them all) WITH A MALE S/O WHO IS CONSTANTLY DYING OR GETTING INJURED DUE TO BADLUCK?

(Of course! Hope you enjoy, thx for reqesting!)

Scout, Spy, Sniper & Engineer x a m!s/o with bad luck (ROMANTIC)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

☆Scout☆

Holy cow is it hard for him to get used to

You die at least once a day but he still cries like a baby whenever it happens

Denies it every time though

“Oh god, it never takes this long, what if my baby’s gone for good? That ain’t gonna happen, you’re bein’ stupid Jeremy. But what if it does? *sniffle* I mean, I- I dunno what I’d do, an just—”

“Hey babe! I grabbed some sodas for us on the way back from respawn, the vending machine was being a pain though. …you alright?

He’d immediately hug you and wipe away his tears. “ ‘m fine. Just glad you’re back, doll. Missed ya.”

Though this guy knows nothing about first aid, he’ll do what his ma always did when he got injured:

“Prince, stop freakin’ out and let me kiss your boo-boo better, kay?”

“Jeremy, I’m not ten, I can handle a tiny bullet wound.”

“Don’t care, c'mere sweetheart. You need some kisses from your hot-ass boyfriend to feel better.”

“What I need is a Medic.”

“C’mon, please?”

“...fine.”

☆Spy☆

Like Scout he’s also dramatic as fuck when you die

Falls to his knees and cries silently over your dead body kind of dramatic

He’s lost one of his lovers before, and it kills him to see it happen in front of him everyday

He’s absolutely terrified that one day you won’t respawn

Doesn’t like to talk about how he feels though, he wants to be strong for his lover

He will require a lot of quality time after you get respawned to calm his mind down that you’re okay

Cuddling, holding your hand in his smoking room, he just needs to be close to you

Helps you when you’re injured, though he does chastise you

(cue homoerotic fixing injuries scene)

“Mon amour, it was simply irresponsible of you to go into the sewers with your luck, it was reckless,” he’d say as he patched you up.

“But you dropped your watch down there, I had to get it back for you.”

“You are insufferably eager, my beau…but it is sweet. Never do anything like that again, though, I worry about you enough as is.”

“Awww, you worry about me?”

“Of course I do, je t'aime. Now shut up and let me help you.”

☆Sniper☆

We all know this guy is hella protective, so of course he’ll protect you even more with how much you get injured.

He’d want nothing more than to keep you in a locked room with nothing to hurt yourself with all day so no harm could ever come to you, but unfortunately that’s “weird” and “illegal”

He constantly wants to be around you to at least try to prevent the inevitable

Even during battles, he tends to double-check where you are on the map to make sure you’re okay, and if you’re not, see who hurt you so he could kill them

He may not have the most traditional sense of first aid training, he mostly knows natural tricks when you’re injured to help you.

“Love, love, calm down, I got some razor strop for your cut there, ‘s like a bandaid. Fix you up real quick, spunk.”

He wants to take you camping but he knows he’d just be anxious about his boyfriend the entire time

“Mick, c’mon, I can handle one tiny camping trip.”

“You burnt yourself on the coffee kettle twice today. It was unplugged.”

“No coffee kettles in the forest though.”

“Can we just stay here where I know you’ll be okay, love?”

“But you wante—”

“I know, but anytime I spend with you makes me happy, okay? If you’re safe and with me, I’m grand.”

☆Engineer☆

This poor man

He’s worried sick about you all the time

You’re not allowed into his workshop anymore after a few too many incidents with the machinery

During battle he’ll constantly do what you want if it’ll keep you safer

You need a dispenser by you even if the rest of the team needs it somewhere else? He’s putting it by you

He makes you wear a spare hardhat of his in case an anvil falls on you or some shit (with your luck it probably would happen)

Since you’re not allowed in his workshop it kind of forces him to be less of a workaholic so he can hang out with his boyfriend

Will stay by your side when you’re injured

“Dell, it’s sweet of you to stay while I have a broken leg, but wouldn’t you rather hang out with the rest of the team instead of here? I mean, it’s gonna be really boring.”

“Darling, I’m staying. I’d rather be here with you than at the snazziest rodeo out there.”

“Ach, young love. Now my patient, here is your paste you must eat. It is good for you, it has plenty of nutrients in it, and definitely not drugs you need to take. And your straw, now tschüss!”

“.....are you still sure you wanna stay?”

“Wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else, sugar.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 x reader #team fortress 2 x reader #scout tf2 #scout tf2 x reader #spy tf2 #spy tf2 x reader #sniper tf2 #sniper tf2 x reader #engineer tf2 #engineer tf2 x reader #fanfiction

75 notes · View notes

bleedingintogold · 7 months

Text

promise

Right-Hand opened his eyes to find himself under what looked like the wing of the jet. Mangled metal and smoke surrounded him.

They crashed.

He grit his teeth as he pulled himself from under the wing, discovering that besides a throbbing head, his leg was definitely broken.

He was forgetting something.

Someone.

He didn't come here alone.

He came with Leader. Where was Leader?

"Leader!" He called out, dragging his broken leg behind him as he crawled away from the rubble. Leader couldn't be too far away, he was right beside him in the cockpit. So he must be on the other side. Right-Hand let his pain escape his throat as he dragged himself along. He heard him before he saw him. Painful, wheezing breathing that wasn't his own.

"Leader! Leader, I'm here!" He wasn't prepared for the scene in front of him. Leader was on his back, with a large piece of metal in his stomach. His navy jacket had turned black, stained with blood. Leader must have been bleeding out for a while, drifting in and out of consciousness.

"Leader. Leader it's okay, I'm here,"

"It hurts," Leader said quietly, eyes meeting his Second-in-Command but not truly looking at him. "I know," Right-Hand assessed as much as he could see, pushing through the blurry vision of his own concussion.

"It's...bad? How...how bad?"

Pulling Leader out would just kill him quicker, not that Right-Hand had the strength to do it anyway. "The team should already be on their way, Leader. Our beacon would have activated as soon as we crashed," Leader only hummed weakly in response, face turning paler by the minute.

"No, no. Leader you gotta stay awake, yeah?" Right-Hand slapped his fingers gently against Leader's cheek.

"Ow..."

"I'm sorry. But you can't sleep, alright? Talk to me, Leader. Tell me about something,"

"Huh?"

"Anything, Leader. Tell me...tell me about..." Right-Hand's head throbbed harder as he tried to string his words together. His eyelids felt heavy. "Hey...hey...you gotta stay awake too," Leader said, making Right-Hand jolt awake.

"Don't...don't leave me alone..."

"I won't. I'm here. I'm here, Leader,"

Fear cruised through Right-Hand's veins when he realized he had just woken up again.

Leader.

No. No. No.

He promised Leader he'd stay with him!

"Shit, Right-Hand, calm down!" Teammate said as she pushed Right-Hand back onto the makeshift bed.

"Leader? Where's Leader?" Teammate's eyes widened at that, exchanging a look with Medic. "Leader's here too, Right-Hand. We found you both,"

"I need to see him. Let me see Leader. Leader!" Medic kept his arm across Right-Hand's chest to keep him down, not needing much force with how weak Right-Hand was.

"Not right now, Right-Hand,"

"You found us in time, yeah? Why are you here then? You should be working on him!"

"Right-Hand..."

"No, no. Go work on Leader, damn it! I'm fucking ordering you to!" He said as he struggled against Teammate and Medic, kicking his IV tower down with his good leg.

"Right-Hand, stop fighting us!"

"He's dead, Right-Hand! He was dead when we found him!"

Right-Hand felt his heart drop at that. Leader couldn't be dead. He was right there with Right-Hand a few minutes ago? How many hours was he sleep?

"Where?"

"What?"

"Where is he?"

"...Leader's right beside you, Right-Hand," Teammate moved to show Right-Hand the second cot. Someone was lying in it. A white cloth draped over their body and face.

"No. No, that's not him. Medic, that's not Leader," "It is. It is, Right-Hand. He bled out as soon as we arrived. Teammate, show Right-Hand Leader's face,"

Teammate hesitated as she turned toward the body of their leader. She gently pulled away the cloth covering his face, proving to Right-Hand that it was indeed Leader under the cloth.

"I told him...I promised him, I'd stay. I promised him I wouldn't leave him alone!"

"You didn't leave him, Right-Hand. He wasn't alone. You were right there until the end,"

Right-Hand reached out to pull Leader's hand from under the cloth, tears falling as he felt cold skin against his fingertips.

#leader whumpee #team dynamics #whump community #whumpblr #leader whump #whump #whump tropes #whump prompt #whumpee

112 notes · View notes

undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

Note

🙌🙌🙌🙌 Just read the one you did for me and holy shit, you are such a good writer 😭❤❤ now if it is okay I am going to do angst or on the verge of angst. One with the ragnarsson family ( both female and Male, maybe even ragnars brother if that is okay?). Their reaction if you got seriously injured maybe even dies when they left their house/town for like an raid??? ❤❤❤

Vikings preference: You get injured while they're gone

Ragnar On the outside, he appears relatively calm and collected, asking you what exactly happened. Once he makes sure you're alright in general terms, he goes out to search for whoever did this to you. Tells them that if they have a dispute with him, they could have simply talked to him but now that they have committed to a violent way, Ragnar challenges them to a duel. Fairly obviously, he wins but decides to spare the offender and instead of taking their life, he takes one of their limbs. Having children with him wouldn't really influence his actions, only the severity of his anger and the damage he does to the culprit.

Bjorn He's seething. Bjorn is very well aware that because of who he is, there are many people out there who don't need any more reason beyond that to spill blood. Apparently, if they can't spill his, yours is just fine. His method of solving the problem is finding whoever did this to you, dragging them out of their house, making a huge scene with an exalted speech, only to kill them in one strike in the end. Until you're alright, and he's very sceptical about your assurance, he visits you during the day but never lingers for too long. Bjorn think he should be out there to catch any scheme in the making. If you have a son of age, Bjorn will take his anger out on him partially: the boy was, after all, told to look after you when his father can't. But if you have smaller children, he's definitely not letting them out of his sight for the next month or so. Also prohibits them from spending time with strangers, just in case.

Ubbe Being a prince, part of him expected something like this to happen, so he's not exactly surprised but still, he thought people had more respect towards him and his family. No matter the severity of your injury, he's off to have a 'stern talk' with the offender, which means more or less that he's going to beat them within an inch of their life while making very believable threats of what happens should they try something like that again. Until you get better, only Ragnarok itself can force him to leave your side. But if you have children, the scale is tipped instantaneously and he's not afraid to decrease the population of Kattegat. He's very family-oriented, so a threat towards his offspring is a threat towards him personally.

Hvitserk Grabs Ubbe to get the problem 'sorted out' which comes down to Ubbe holding down the culprit and Hvitserk going absolutely berserk on them. If anyone asks, neither of them knows what happened. Suspiciously, the culprit themself doesn't speak up about how they got beaten nearly to death. Despite the suspicious obliviousness, everyone and anyone who once wished ill will on you are having second thoughts. If you have old enough children, he considers that 'incident' a sign to start teaching them to fight.

Sigurd More baffled than angry. Out of all the Ragnarsons, he's the least notorious, so why in Gods' names did someone specifically go after you? He figures that the offence wasn't really aimed at him but rather at his entire family and the culprit went for whoever was the easiest target. Which doesn't really make him feel any better: you got seriously hurt by random chance, only because you decided to settle down with him and you, apparently, were at the wrong place, at the wrong time. Depending on how severe your injuries are, he's willing to ask Ubbe and Hvitserk to join him in going after the culprit. After that is dealt with, he begins seriously considering moving away from Kattegat. If you have children, he both decides it's time to teach them to fight but if you have a son, he's going to get the short end of the stick: Sigurd will constantly remind him that when he's gone, it's your son's responsibility to defend you.

Ivar He may be a deranged individual but he's not stupid, so he doesn't storm off to fight the offender in a duel - Ivar knows his chances are slim at best. So he thinks of a perfect ruse, something that would lure the culprit into their own demise. It, quite obviously, ends up working and all of Kattegat gets to marvel at his horrendous and yet impressive genius. Whoever dared to raise their hand against you is not publicly begging for death as some of the bravest men around grimace in disgust. The message to his enemies should be considered received. For most of his life, he was quite convinced he couldn't have children so when he finally has them, he's horribly protective of them. And that means his ruse becomes slightly more unhinged.

Aslaug She can't retaliate in an equally violent way but that doesn't really matter - she has her own way of making life Hell for the offender. Aslaug exiles them publically, making sure that all of Kattegat heard about their wrongdoings. As a queen, she can go even a step further and ensure that all of Norway knows what they had done and no family or jarl will ever give them shelter.

Lagertha Publicly promises to kill them but not before a fair trial. It's not really about justice but rubbing their punishment in - in other words, she follows the way of the Gods to make sure that the culprit goes through absolute torture in this life and the next one. Once the verdict is announced, she spares no time in driving her sword through their chest. Similarly to Ragnar, having children doesn't really influence her choice of actions but only how much anger she expresses and the unsavoury language she uses.

#vikings series #vikings ragnar #viking bjorn #vikings tv series #vikings #vikings fanfiction #vikings headcanon #vikings imagine #vikings ubbe #vikings sigurd #vikings hvitserk #vikings ivar #history vikings #vikings fic #vikings x reader #vikings x you #vikings fandom #vikings preference

526 notes · View notes

spnjediavenger · 4 months

Text

It Won't Last Forever (Chapter 2)

Title: It Won’t Last Forever (Chapter 2)

Type: multi-chapter; father!Hotch x teen!daughter!reader, some bau x teen!reader (platonic!)

Warnings: canon-typical Criminal Minds sadness and/or violence

POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNINGS: panic attack description, flashbacks, alludes to PTSD

Spoilers: S5 SPOILERS

Notes: This chapter is much shorter than the last since the scene has been set but hopefully it’s still good!

The panic attack and PTSD description is a mix of my own experience and some I read online - this is not how ALL panic attacks and PTSD are experienced.

As always, love and/or constructive/friendly criticism is welcome and encouraged!

Word count: 1258

��Trauma fractures comprehension as a pebble shatters a windshield. The wound at the site of impact spreads across the field of vision, obscuring reality and challenging belief.” Jane Leavy

“Ok, babygirl, you know the drill - tell me five things you can see,” Morgan coaxed gently to the girl in front of him. Hotch was needed out of town and Morgan elected to stay behind and watch over Y/n. While she was open to help, she didn’t want to see a therapist. Hotch was against this but was temporarily more lenient since she had his team to help her with her PTSD symptoms. If things got worse, then she would see someone.

“Y- I see you, the-the door, the picture of mom,” Y/n ended the last word in a sad cry.

“Come on, sweetheart, you’re doin’ good. Two more things you can see, stay with me now.”

Y/n sniffled and took a couple breaths. “My bedspread, the floor.”

“Alright, good job. Now four things you can feel.”

The girl ran her hand over her bed. “My knitted blanket…the body pillow behind me…my cheeks are wet,” she sniffled again. “And your hands.”

Morgan gave hers a squeeze. “Good. Three things you can hear.”

“Your voice…cars outside…the air conditioner.”

“Two you can smell.”

“The candle…and I can still smell the detergent on my clothes.”

“Taste?”

She let out a sad, quiet chuckle. “The salt from my tears.”

Morgan let go of one of her hands to wipe said tears from her cheeks.

“That was perfect, sweetheart. How do you feel?”

“Better,” she admitted. This wasn’t the first time one of the team walked her through a panic attack exercise and probably wouldn’t be the last. She could do them by herself at times but it was always better when she had someone with her. Each member of the team had their own methods to help her too. Morgan and JJ typically went with the five things method; Spencer would try and help her regain her breathing while he talked to her, his voice calming to her and helping her to focus on something other than her symptoms; Emily would try and ground her by getting her to pay attention to her surroundings and everything she could feel; Penelope hadn’t been needed too much but when it did happen she, like Reid, would just talk to the girl and try to stay calm herself; Rossi would guide her breathing, squeezing her hands for her to breath in and out; and her dad would hold her and do whatever else she needed. He would usually let her tell him what would help her most in each situation because many of them were different; it was these times when he was most grateful for his team and all the calming methods they taught his daughter.

Right now, it had been Morgan’s turn again.

Morgan smiled and tapped her chin. “That’s my girl.” She offered a half smile. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

The girl frowned again and looked down at her hands, still being held by one of Morgan’s. Y/n squeezed his hand a bit and took a deep breath.

“I just came across one of dad’s guns. And suddenly it was in my hands and I was back there again. I’m so tired of this, De,” she whined softly, looking into his eyes.

Morgan sighed and tucked some stray hair behind one of her ears. “I know, babygirl. I know. And I’m sorry you have to go through this. But it’s all part of trauma, unfortunately. But your dad and your aunts and uncles are all here for you to help you through it. I know it’s hard now but just remember that it won’t last forever.”

Y/n couldn’t help but smile at that.

“What?”

“That’s what Spencer says.”

“And he’s right. But then again, when is pretty boy ever wrong?” Morgan added, rolling his eyes a bit but smiling when that got a genuine laugh out of Y/n. “Ohhh there’s that beautiful laugh we all love so much.”

The girl looked at him and wrapped her arms around him. “I love you, Uncle De.”

He hugged her in turn, holding a hand to her head. “I love you too, babygirl. We’ll all be here for you through it all, ok?”

“Ok.”

Morgan: Y/n/n is asleep. Had a rough day so maybe let her stay asleep when you get back. Your little man is waiting for you though

Hotch frowned and sighed before replying.

Hotch: OK. Fill me in when I get in please

Morgan: Will do

As much as Hotch wanted to see his little girl, he knew he should let her sleep. So when he walked into his home, he happily but quietly greeted Jack when he ran over to him.

“Jack! Hey, buddy!” he whisper-yelled.

“Daddy, I missed you!” his son whisper-yelled back. “Uncle D said Y/n is sleeping and to be quiet,” he informed his father.

Hotch smiled at his son’s thoughtfulness to his big sister. “That’s nice of you, buddy. Did you have a good time with your Uncle D?”

“Yeah! We played a lot and he helped Y/n when she was sad.”

Hotch gave a sad smile that Morgan shared. “That’s good. Alright, it’s pretty late, bud. Why don’t you get into bed and I’ll tuck you in when I put my stuff down?”

“Ok!”

To his word, Hotch put his son to bed when he put his things away. He then went back out to the living room. He sat in one of the chairs to face Morgan on the couch.

“So what happened?” Hotch asked him.

Morgan sighed, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. “She got triggered when she saw one of your guns while looking for something. I helped calm her down but she got pretty tired after that.”

Hotch sighed again and ran a hand down his face. “I-”

He was cut off when a scream sounded from down the hall.

“I’ll keep Jack in his room, you go to her,” Morgan said as both men got to their feet.

“Daddy?” Jack’s voice came.

“Hey, it’s ok, little man,” Morgan said as he went into the boy’s room. “Your sister is just having a bad dream. Come with me, ok?”

As Jack followed him, Hotch went to Y/n’s room to find her writhing in her bed and crying, eyes still closed. He knelt on her bed and gently grabbed her shoulders, making her let out one more scream and open her eyes, shooting up in bed.

“Daddy?” she said, panting.

“It’s alright, honey, it was just a dream. You’re home with me,” Hotch soothed, running a hand over her messy hair.

Y/n let out a breath and ran her hands over her face as she caught her breath.

Hotch sighed as well and didn’t wait to address the elephant in the room. “It’s getting worse, Y/n. I know you don’t want to do therapy but we can’t avoid it anymore. You’re still a minor, I technically don’t need your consent to send you to therapy but I would feel a lot better if I had it.”

Y/n searched her father’s eyes before looking away and nodding. The man let out a relieved sigh and pulled her in for a hug.

“Can one of you always be with me though?” she asked with a small voice.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

The girl nodded into his shoulder and continued hugging him, relishing in his warmth and comfort. She hated the idea of having to let a stranger into her personal life but she knew this wouldn’t go away without help.

Kiera Cass said: “Accepting help is its own kind of strength.”

#fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds x teen reader #aaron hotchner x teen reader #aaron hotchner #bau x teen reader #criminal minds x hotchner reader #derek morgan x teen reader

56 notes · View notes