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#got so many more scenarios in mind
calbodeing · 1 year
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CalxBode au blurb spoilers ahead!
“I trusted him.” The words escaped Cal’s lips with a raw sort of magnitude, everything hurt.  He’d trusted Bode far more than anyone else had…he’d given Bode everything and now because of him, everyone would suffer.  
Greez stared at him, not entirely comprehending what Cal was actually implying but Merrin did.  Her hands had balled into fists as Cal spoke, “…That’s on Bode Cal, not you.” She said quietly, her voice softer than usual as she spoke.  
Cal let out a self-deprecating laugh, “I told him I-“ he broke off the memory too painful to recall.  BD let out a sad little bleep before it gently nudged Cal’s shoulder with its head.  Cal for his part didn’t seem to acknowledge it, how could he have missed it?  
He’d…trusted Bode, not only with the secrets of the reformed Jedi sanctuary but with his heart.  And in so doing he’d all but destroyed everything he loved in one fell swoop.  
Cal let out a shaky breath and glanced down at his hands…hands that had touched Bode’s body in both curiosity and eagerness only the night before.  
He felt sick, his first time with someone and he hadn’t even suspected that Bode could have been anyone other than the person he’d presented himself as. 
“Listen kid-“ Greez broke off as Cal shot up to his feet and brushed past him and the others as he felt a surge of anger at himself for everything that had transpired.  
“It’s my fault that Cere is dead!  It’s my fault that Bode ever even got his hands on-“ he couldn’t finish that thought as a mental image of the night before replayed itself violently in his mind and he felt an urge to be sick.
Greez was staring at him with a dawning expression of understanding at Cal’s words and Cal shuddered, dropping his gaze so he wouldn’t have to see Greez’s face. 
He wasn’t so sure he could handle seeing the disgust and the anger that- he felt hot tears work their way down his face. 
“…I…I should have known.” He whispered, hating how broken he sounded just then.  “Cal, what Bode did…he abused your trust in him, in the worst possible way.” Merrin said after a beat and Cal scoffed.  
“I should be better than that!  I should have known he was a Sith…I should have at least been able to sense…who he really was.” He pointed out as he wiped at his eyes with a pained grimace. 
“If I hadn’t gone looking for Tanalorr…Cere might…everyone would still be alive.” He went on, knowing in his heart of hearts that it was true.  
There was a long pause then as Cal did his best not to completely lose his composure then and there. “The raiders were already looking for Gaden right?  If you hadn't gone looking, then things could have turned out much differently kid.” Greez noted as he hesitantly approached Cal though he kept his distance.  
Cal swallowed and nodded, though the motion felt disjointed…separate from the rest of him.  “…Right.” he muttered under his breath, deciding not to argue the point, despite the churning miasma of guilt that threatened to swallow him up.  
There was a pause then as Greez and Merrin glanced between each other and then over at BD-1 who was perched on the couch. 
“I need to clear my head.” Cal said after a beat before he headed for his quarters.  He wasn’t sure he could even manage mediation but he couldn’t bear seeing the pitying looks from Greez or Merrin just then.  
He heard the light tell tale tapping sound as BD followed along behind him.  He wanted to forget the past twenty-four hours, though he had a feeling the memories would never leave.
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420pogpills · 1 year
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not to be a toxic dnfer but dream looks at george like he hung the moon and the stars in the sky and george looks at dream like he's the sunshine and the rain and the warmth of home and private jokes and synchronised sleep schedules and and like he's waited his whole life to stand by his side
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someones-sideblog · 10 months
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listening to the 1995 jekyll and hyde musical soundtrack at a crisp 04:46 in the morning and i gotta say. it's making me very normal about the gavins. like holy hell just listen to Confrontation. i dare you to look me in the eyes and tell me that's not a gavin brothers song like it has EVERYTHING IN IT. a shadow of evil clouding the good you had meant? questioning whether or not you are a good person? the fear that your peers will mistake you for a monster?? "you cannot choose but to lose control"??? the whole fucking satan at his side shit????? "TAKE ALL YOUR EVIL DEEDS AND ROT IN HELL"???????? god how i fucking wish i could animate id be cooking some good shit rn
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munamania · 2 years
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not to sound cocky or presumptuous but i know. if i can talk to her alone at some point when school starts i can get her to tell me wtf was going on lmfao
#so weird to think abt like we’ve talked just the two of us bc we both had tunnel vision constantly but we were never truly. one on one#which like yeah we were classmates but the opportunity might’ve presented itself given some of our assignments. anyway#i have decided i’m going to talk to her. i figure worse case scenario what we like don’t talk again#i’m sure he’s already gunning for that at least this way i can get a thought in#i have it planned out like somehow u have to believe despite how sadly i’ve been pining over her for months#i can be chill. somehow. in person. and in fact i was often the more collected one#like bbgirl have some couth. yk. anyway#i’m just. i can live without closure i have with many scenarios in my life#bjt i think given our limited time together but how well we got along it’s well within my rights to be like#Uh hey. wtf was that last semester#but much more nicely and matter of factly. so hopefully he’ll seem insane#don’t bully me for thinking so much abt this i SWEAR some days i don’t think abt it so much#but now that i’ve talked to her best friend recently and i’m thinking about putting my two weeks in and moving#and how well be NEIGHBORS. idk ofc i’m thinking abt it#anyway. might delete this later if i decide it’s embarrassing for me.#abby talks#worst* also. like. i’m so serious i may have gotten on here and lost my mind like she’s so hot etc#but i would say the littlest thing to her and she was like. ugh insane. i miss talking to her :(#snap out of it girlie please. idk how to feel honestly just gonna go with it this semester
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originsofevil · 9 months
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i think that closing should actually be considered a capital punishment
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urfriendlywriter · 8 months
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How to write angst ?
@urfriendlywriter | req by @everynowandthenihaveacrisis @aidyaiden :)
know your character. from their deepest fears to what they cherish the most. know your deepest fear, ask yourself how you will react and feel at that moment. "oh shit, if this happened to me I'll lose my mind" what's that type of scenario for you? write it. :)
decide on the type of angst you are going for!
major, minor, physical, emotional, paranormal, spiritual, verbal, abusive, quarrel, misunderstanding, etc.
and then, decide on--what reaction you can take out of your character by doing what to them.
are they gonna be, held at a gunpoint to give something up? or have their soul wrecked by whom they thought were close to them? or is it going be horror, or etctec, decide on it.
moving on to actually writing it-
Tip 1 - Use sensory details.
her eyes brimmed with tears
his chest heaved
pain clawed at his heart, as his face twisted with hurt
his scream pierced my heart
her lips quivered
she dug her nails into her palms (to distract herself, to stop it from shaking, etc)
show what is happening to ur MC, instead of telling it.
Tip 2 - how to actually write it.
If they're panicking, make them notice too many things at once, show every detail that they're seeing, feeling, from touch, to that burning sensation on their eyes, the blood on the ground, that dryness of their throat, the buzzing in their head and their parted lips unable to trust their own sight, and--and, boom! have them register that they're really really in trouble. and that they've to act fast.
use short, very minimal type of writing for this. make it long, but not long enough that it feels like it's being dragged.
the readers should hold themselves back from skimming the page out of curiousity, they should be in their toes to find out what happens next.
what does your MC do in times of panic? do they chant calm down to themselves, do they get angry, or start crying.. or?? what makes your character genuinely feel an emotion so hard that they'll burst?
there's always something, someone that'll always give them love and easily can be that something or someone to take it away. yk.
Tip 3 - crying.
what is close to your character that u can deprive them of? will it make them cry? beg for it?
what will make ur character cry so hard, that their scream fills everyone's ear, stays in their minds like ghosts and always haunts them?
make a character who never cries, burst out with tears.
while writing crying, focus on the 5 senses, one after the other.
focus it on their breath, make them run out of breath, gasp for air, feel like they're being choked, cry so scrutinizingly. it shud punch the reader's gut.
have them replay what had just happened over and over again in their head
best books and writing styles (for angst) to analyse and learn from (in my opinion);
3rd book in the AGGTM series (yk it hit hard like a truck. it got me depressed in bed the entire time lmao)
Five Survive by Holly Jackson. The moments of red outside of the truck, and moments leading to it.
there's this book called " Warm by @untalentedwriter127 " in wattpad. the author served angst for breakfast, lunch anddd dinner.
and if there's more angsty ones, drop em in the comments! :)
Hope this helps, tag me when yall write a masterpiece! ;)
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berry-potchy · 11 months
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Dad's Best Friend!Miguel O'Hara blurb because I'm obsessed
I love the DBF!Miguel O'Hara scenarios that have you sneaking around and fucking while your family is around and unaware BUT consider:
DBF!Miguel O'Hara who offered to let you stay at his place when you moved out for college. You don't have to worry about rent or anything because he'll take care of everything. He'll take care of you.
It all seemed so good and innocent at the start. You even got to have the place to yourself most of the days because of his demanding job. Miguel said you can bring your friends over but no romantic partners or flings allowed. Not that you had anyone in that way when you're so busy yearning for Miguel. You've had a crush on him since forever and every time you tried to get into a relationship or have sex with anyone, anyone your age, your mind always compared them to Miguel. For the longest time you were hopelessly yearning, convinced that he'd never return your feelings until one night.
You were lying in bed trying to catch your breath after fucking your pussy raw with your vibrator thinking about how hot Miguel looked that morning in his nice suit, ready for an important business meeting he had. You were about to fall asleep when you felt the bed dip and suddenly Miguel was pulling you close to him, your back against his chest. Your bare ass still wet from your own slick, flushed against his erection and the only barrier that separated you was the same sexy suit you had been fantasizing about. He was so big, he felt bigger than how you imagined him and your cunt throbbed, seemingly ready to be used and abused again.
He kissed your neck, licking and sucking, marking you as his while murmuring how long he had been wanting to do this. He heard you moaning his name when you thought he was going to come home late and he immediately called in his office to tell them he's taking a sick leave. He's going to spend that time fucking you, on every surface in the house, making up for all those times you teased him in the mornings just walking around in an oversized shirt and no bra. You didn't even wear shorts around him, gave him a show of your cute ass, trying to reach mugs from the high kitchen shelves. He had to go shamefully jerk off in his car just so he didn't have to go to work with a very obvious boner. How'd he explain that to your dad when he inevitably bumped into him in the office? His precious little daughter living under the same roof as this pervert?
Hearing you moan his name while you fucked your slutty cunt was the last straw, all his self restraint went out the window. He took your vibrator from your hand and let it overstimulate your swollen clit but immediately take it away when he feels you almost going over the edge. You whine and beg him to let you cum but he just laughs. He promised you'll cum plenty of times, more than you can handle.
Of course he eats your pretty pussy out and fuck you all night in so many different ways, in positions you never even heard of. Your pussy was swollen and oversensitive, and you're pretty sure your cervix is deliciously bruised. Miguel kisses your pussy as an apology but gets distracted and tongue fucks you and makes you cum again.
You slowed down some time in the morning. Miguel made you breakfast but soon enough you found yourself bent over the kitchen counter getting railed again. You don't know how this man had that much stamina at his age. You were getting close to cumming when you heard your phone ring. Your dad was calling you. You helplessly looked back at Miguel, expecting him to stop so you can pick up the call but he didn't stop and clicked the answer button for you. Your dad happily greets you over the phone wondering how you're doing and you tried to keep your voice steady and told him everything's good and uni was going great. Miguel leaned over, pressing his chest on your back and driving his cock deeper and harder into you. It took everything in you not to cry in pleasure and you wondered if your dad can hear the erotic sounds of Miguel's cock abusing your sopping wet hole and his balls slapping your aching clit.
Your dad told you he heard Miguel was taking a sick leave which he has never done befor. He was convinced that he must be really sick for that workaholic to finally take a break so he asked you to take care of his best friend for him. You told him not to worry because you were taking really good care of him.
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pomefioredove · 1 month
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only one bed room
summary: it's the sdc and everyone's staying over at ramshackle but, oh no! you're one room and one bed short. being the generous (or gullible) soul that you are, you agree to share characters: all sdc competitors, separate additional info: fair warning I have no replayed book 5 in a while, reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, most scenarios end in cuddles. can be interpreted as romantic or platonic (nix vil and rook's part)
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Deuce Spade
"I don't mind sleeping on the floor!"
it's a big fat no from Vil. waking up sore and tired is unacceptable, and will affect his performance during practice. he will use the bed, end of story.
you offer to take the floor or one of the many stiff and uncomfortable couches in Ramshackle, but he refuses
what kind of aspiring honor student would he be if he kicked you out of your own room?
so, yes, you end up sharing the bed
he's a perfect gentleman about it
he insists on sleeping on the complete opposite end of the bed
to give you your space, of course
not because he's nervous
obviously it doesn't pan out- he's kind of a messy sleeper, and on the first night you wake up with him sprawled on top of you
you decide not to wake him up
you'd been thinking about saving for a weighted blanket, anyway
Ace Trappola
"you better not hog the blankets,"
takes it like a champ, though he might be screaming internally
he already sleeps in a dorm with three other guys- this can't be any different, right?
it totally is
sharing a bed with someone? someone he likes, who he isn't just forced to live with for convenience?
he's not sure how to tease you about this one without coming off as nervous himself
so he just shuts his trap about it (for once) and accepts his fate
in the end, it's no big deal for a player like him
he ends up hogging the blankets, though. hypocrite.
Kalim al-Asim
"YAYYY SLEEPOVER!"
he means exactly what he says
not a care in the world
all he's thinking about is how fun this is going to be! just him and his favorite Ramshackle prefect (Grim heard the news and will be staying in deuce's room to avoid any cracker mishaps)
Kalim, admittedly, is not a creature of great thought. he tends to be dictated by his feelings, and he can be a little selfish sometimes
so when Jamil pulled him aside and asked him to just buy another bed for ramshackle, he ignored him entirely
why would he do that? the situation is resolved, and everyone's happy!
well... not everyone, but Kalim's happy!
he stocks up on Vil-approved snacks, insists you two braid each other's hair and stay up late into the night talking with no one to remind you to go to sleep
(he tried to invite Jamil and got the door slammed in his face)
this arrangement lasts approximately one night
when Vil sees the dark circles under your eyes, it's over
you are confined to the couch, and Kalim is forced to sleep alone
Jamil Viper
"okay,"
really. he's totally fine with it.
besides the fact that he doesn't want to cause any more trouble, he's shared beds with his siblings before. no big deal
he just wasn't expecting to wake up with you snuggled against him
but this is fine
totally fine
he's barely conscious and it's early morning, still dark, the time he's used to getting up at
Vil has things covered, right? he can stay here for a little while longer. it would be awkward trying to get up without waking you
it feels nice having something all to himself for once
he smirks, imagining how jealous everyone else would be:
the beautiful, kind, intelligent ramshackle prefect in his arms? oh, the looks on their faces would almost make this whole thing worth it!
but in the end, he decides to say nothing
he wants to keep you all to himself, after all
for just a little while longer
Epel Felmier
"ain't no way I'm sharing!"
that's what he says in his head, anyway. but it's late and he's worn out from practice (and being shouted at) so he just sighs and accepts his fate
of course Vil would make him do it. it's probably because he's the smallest, isn't it?
you can tell he's unhappy with the arrangement (not that he's making much of a secret of it- he's grumbling under his breath all evening)
he starts coming around to the idea when he wakes up holding something warm
his heart jumpstarts and he nearly panics before remembering where he is
and then he realizes the thing he's holding is... you. somehow the two of you had ended up spooning during the night
but, more importantly... he's the big spoon!
he's almost tempted to wake you to announce that he, in all his manly glory, had naturally assumed the most masculine cuddling position!
(yes he sounds ridiculous. just let him have this one)
he lets you sleep, though. just a little more won't hurt anyone, right?
he's okay with the arrangement after that
Rook Hunt
"I will do it!"
Vil isn't even able to finish his sentence before the vice housewarden is practically jumping up and down
pretty much everyone breathes a collective sigh of relief; a volunteer! thank the sevens. otherwise, this could get awkward...
of course, he quite intentionally ends up with you in his arms
but not for any nefarious purpose, he insists!
he's a light sleeper, and can be stirred by any sudden noise or movement
you appeared to be having some kind of nightmare
it reminds him of a small animal caught in a trap, struggling for its life. he can't bear to see it- it's cruel to let a poor creature go on suffering before you can make the kill
of course, instead of killing you (thank the sevens), he decides to comfort you
he presses your head against his chest so you can hear his heartbeat, and he runs his fingers through your hair until you calm down.
then he keeps you there, just to be sure you don't have another bad dream
if you gave him permission, he would gladly be all over you in seconds. kissing up and down your shoulders, caressing every perfect inch of your body, whispering words of admiration
but he's perfectly content just cradling you for now
hopefully, you will continue to have these nightmares and give him excuses to do this again
Vil Schoenheit
"don't argue with me,"
initially, you just gave him the bed
maybe you were afraid of him; maybe you like him; maybe you just wanted to avoid a conflict altogether
either way, you spent the first night on the terribly uncomfortable floor, and trudged through Ramshackle like a zombie the next morning
Vil was feeling guilty watching you
what? he's not a monster
and he's a leader, which means he has a responsibility. and you had so graciously invited them all into your home...
fine! he'll share. he insists, even
when you try to argue, he shuts you down, repeating all that stuff about responsibility and hospitality, blah blah
and he doesn't want the team manager dead on their feet
arguing with him is pointless, so you just agree
he wakes up with you against him, sleeping peacefully
now, if it were you clinging to him- he might have had a good chuckle. can't keep your hands to yourself, prefect? I'm just that irresistible?
but the way he's holding you, the way his arms are so tightly wrapped around your waist, the way he's so clearly pressing you against him...
he hates to admit it, but you're an elegant sleeper. it's almost cute
the tension is relieved from your face, your breathing graceful and steady, and your perfect lips open just a sliver...
he is a perfect gentleman, and would never dream of doing anything without your explicit permission, but for one shameful second he thinks about how easy it would be to kiss you
... and then he quickly puts those thoughts aside and tries to get back to sleep
he doesn't want any dark circles, after all
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luveline · 10 months
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𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐠𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐝 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫
when an unknown intruder breaks into your apartment, you call hotch. he races to make it to you in time. requested here. fem!reader, 3.7k
cw home invasion, assault, attempted sexual assault, reader is badly hurt/held at gunpoint, please read with care for the content warnings above
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
"Hotch?" you whisper into the phone, your voice barely audible. 
"Who is this?" 
Hotch doesn't always look at who's calling at night, he just answers. Bad habit. You curl in on yourself where you're on your knees in the closet, trying not to wheeze breathlessly down the receiver. "Hotch, it's me. I need you to come and help me." 
"What's wrong?" He doesn't ask why you're whispering. "Are you at home?" 
"There's someone in my apartment." 
"You're sure?" 
You shift backwards into the embrace of your hanging coats and dresses. It feels as though tens of hands are petting your shoulders, a shiver racing along your spine as a floorboard creaks somewhere in your kitchen. 
"I heard them open my door. I don't have my taser, I…" You stop talking when you hear more movement, terrified you'll be discovered. Regret clings to you. How many times has Morgan offered to teach you self defence personally? "I don't know how they got inside."
It doesn't take more than that for Hotch to click into work mode. "Stay on the phone with me. Don't talk. I'm going to put you on hold to call Morgan. I will be ten seconds at most. Don't panic. Don't hang up. If you think you can leave without being seen or heard, leave, but if you can't, don't show him where you are." 
The invader's footsteps track to the bedroom. You know at once that your tired mind isn't hallucinating a bad scenario to keep you up —this is real. 
You had the hindsight to close your laptop and push it under the bed along with your go-bag, a rucksack full of clothes that you take on cases in different states as part of the BAU. You'd made a quick assessment —your job more than prepared you for this— based on the little information you had. Either the invader knows nothing about you and has assumed you'd be home, or they watch you enough to think you'd be elsewhere. If they think you're here, you're in danger of being assaulted, kidnapped, or murdered. If they think you're away, you're in danger of being robbed. One scenario is a thousand times more preferable than the other. 
You can't help but think of the horrible things you've seen. You know intimately what kind of damage one person can do to someone at their mercy. 
The hold sound is a quiet droning that freaks you out. If you can hear it, the intruder might be able to, too. Like the low hum of the fridge at night or the bumping of the dyer. 
You hang up the phone. 
"I know you're here." 
Your pulse flies through the roof. It pounds so hard you can feel it everywhere, the tip of your nose, your eyelashes. You look through the dark of your closet and panic in the fullest definition of the word. Your heart can't sustain this for long. 
You failed to think of a third possibility. The intruder watches you enough to know you're home. The BAU has a lot of enemies. Anyone could be waiting for you on the other side of the door.
"Come out and I'll be kind," the intruder sing-songs.
You type out a text with shaking hands, your message nearly illegible. 
They knowa 8m hjome. Cant talkk dontcall me
Thirty seconds elapse. A reply comes through. You smother the chirp with your chest. It sounds loud as a shot in the relative quiet. 
Police dispatch 5mins. I'm 10mins. Morgan 12. I will be there as soon as I can. Protect yourself 
That's easy for him to say. You drop your phone in defeat but scramble to pick it up again when you realise it's your best weapon. Or… You crawl to the opposite end of the closet to your shoe rack and slide the shoes apart with honey slow movements, your breath coming in quick, too-loud pants. You never expected to feel this way, you thought you'd know exactly what to do, how to react, but this feels outside of reality. 
You brace the long heel of a shoe between your fingers. Your hand is a vice. 
In your bedroom, the intruder goads you. "I know you're home, Y/N. There's only so many places for me to look, you know? But if you make me check each one, I'll be unhappy when I find you." 
What the fuck? you think. Breaking apart the fear like a knife is anger, a new shot of adrenaline. Who is this guy? You want to spring from the closet and show him how unhappy you are, but your chances of survival improve the longer you can hide. If he has a gun, that's it. You could be dead in the next two minutes. No amount of anger would save you. 
You could be dead in the next two minutes. 
thank you dpr everything, for being my friend aaron, you text. You know how embarrassing it will be to have said goodbye if nothing bad happens to you, but you also know how haunted Hotch will be if he can't get to you in time. You aren't foolish enough to unravel your feelings for him over text, but you're sentimental enough to think they'd matter to him. He'd want to know. 
If things go bad please knoeew that I loved my life and my work and you and the tram more than anything
After a moment, you add, If things don't go bad please nevrr mentiom this 
Footsteps at the closet door. A pause that feels gargantuan, the silence so heavy it threatens to snap the floorboards beneath your knees. 
"Found you." 
You leap up and throw yourself at the closet door as hard as you can, gasping when it swings on the hinges and clips your opposition in the leg. You don't think, you don't look at his face, you simply drive the point of your shoe into his collar. 
He gasps. Something hard and rigid whips upward, your neck snapping to one side as the skin of your cheek splits, gunmetal glancing off of bone. You drop down onto your ass, half out of necessity and half to get away from the pain. You can't outrun it, nor can you escape the forthcoming assault, grunting in shock as the bottom of the gun comes down atop your head. It was likely meant to incapacitate you, but all it does is hurt. 
You flip onto your front, stagger onto your hands and knees, and launch yourself up through the bedroom doorway. You only have to get away. 
He sweeps your legs from under you barely ten feet down the hall. 
You fall. Your knees hit the hallway slats and your face follows, the nerve endings in your teeth ringing one by one and your eyes tearing up as your nose makes a huge thwacking sound. Gasping, you rush to cover your face though the damage is done. Your gasp turns to a sob, hands quickly wetted by blood. 
"Stupid bitch," he hisses. 
You crawl into the kitchen. He steps on the back of your thigh. 
"I have a G43 pointed straight at the back of your fucking head."
"Good for you?" you say, eyes squeezed closed. 
You whimper as he grinds his foot into your leg. 
"Don't think I won't use it when I'm done with you." 
You shake your head from side to side. That can't be what he's here for.
You should ask him what he wants, or threaten him with the approaching police sirens. You should've tried to climb out of your fire escape. You should've set the door alarm as soon as you came home, but you're just so fucking tired lately you must've forgot. Everything feels like a chore. Right now, you're exhausted. 
"What are you going to do?" he asks you. 
You won't negotiate. You don't answer.
Forceful, no time to protect yourself, he kicks you in the side of the face. It hurts worse than the fall, that shattering pain like a firework under your skin. You struggle to keep your mouth shut, hoping that your whining cry is less audible to him than it is to you, scrambling backward toward the cabinets. You're defeated. Maybe you deserve it, for it to happen so easily. Three minutes and you're down. 
"I asked you what are you going to do, Agent?" 
"What am I supposed to say?" you ask. Even to your own ears, you sound pathetic. 
"Whatever I want you to. Now get up, honey." You cringe. "Unless you want to stay on the floor like a dog?" 
"Don't call me that," you say, wincing at the grinding sensation of your jaw. 
"What, a dog? Or… honey?" His tone is smug. "I thought you'd like that. It's what your boss calls you, isn't it? Late at night when he drops you off. Not strictly professional." 
You groan and turn onto your side. The police sirens are getting close. You live in a busy place near a main road, the sirens could be for anybody, but you need them to be for you.
"Get up, honey. You can pretend I'm him, if you like. I'll make it easy on you. I can be nice." 
You deliberate. Do as he says, or risk further agitation. Do what he says. Live to see the end of the night. 
Or drag it out. Give Hotch enough time to get here. 
"You'll pretend to be him?" you ask, sniffing. You can't tell if you're crying or there's blood on your face. 
"Aw. To begin with, sure." 
You sit up. For the first time, you look your attacker in the face. It's difficult to tear your eyes from the barrel, but you do. He has a cruel face, as tall and formidable as Hotch is but with none of his lightness. You put on your softest expression, gazing at him through tears. When you speak, the fear is real, even if you're attempting a facade. "You'll be gentle?" 
"No. You think he'd be gentle? Agent Hotchner?" His lip curls in disgust.
"I don't know," you mumble, looking down at the floor. "You said you'd be nice." 
"We both know you don't like nice." 
"I do," you say, finding your footing in the charade, the sorry victim, whatever he needs you to be for now. You hate giving him anything, but you know in the moment that you'll do what you need to do to save yourself from injury. "I haven't… I haven't done stuff in a long time, I can't just rush into things." 
The gun makes a quiet clicking sound as he points it with more fervour. "Like I believe that. You're probably fucking Hotchner on the side." 
There, that jealousy. He's been watching you, he knows where you live, what you want, and he's still convinced that you're fucking Hotch. It's not logical.
You cling to the threads, trying to pull apart his composure. You'd assumed him an anger-excitation rapist, unafraid to hurt you as he already has, but now you're thinking something else. 
"You think I'm sleeping with my boss? Why?" 
"Besides your constant need to be touching him? It's disgusting, you throw yourself at someone who doesn't want you. You're pathetic. I can make you better." 
You see movement in the corner of your vision. Dark hair, a stony expression. Hotch stands at the precipice of the kitchen in a bulletproof vest, a finger to his lips. Sh. 
Your relief knocks a breath out of you. The invader takes it for pain at being read. 
"Look," he says, softer. Not genuine softness, but practised. As soon as you give in, he'll drop it. You're both acting for one another, but only one of you is a profiler. "You'll forget all about Agent Hotchner once we're done. So just get up." 
You hold out your hand. His eyes light up with malice as he leans down to take it, his gun finally aimed away from your face. 
Hotch moves in. 
"Drop the weapon." 
Your attacker whirls. Hotch doesn't hesitate. Front sight, controlled trigger press, follow through. A bang like a clap of thunder fills the room. 
You flinch down into yourself. Everything goes a little white for a while, people running into the room, a gun skittling across your kitchen tile. Your ears ring from the bang of two bullets and you're sure you've been hit, you're hurting so much, but hands squeeze under your arms to tell you otherwise. 
"You're okay," Hotch says, knee against your thigh, face ducked down to meet your eyes. "Hey, can you hear me?" 
You shake your head. You can hear him, but you're far from okay. Hotch bites commands over his shoulder, holding your waist in his hands like he's worried you'll slip out of them. Tight. Too tight. You suck in as big a breath as you can manage and choke on it, coughing, the wild sting of your wounds a ringer. 
"You did so well," he says as he catalogues your injuries, his frown deepening. He tilts your head up to the light. 
"I knew you were on your way," you deflect.
"You were talking him down." 
"No, I was surrendering." 
"You didn't give in until you saw me. You weren't surrendering." 
"But I would have," you whisper, closing your eyes.
"Doing what you need to to survive isn't easy. But you do it." 
You hang your head. 
— 
Hotch winces at the sound of your skin being sewn closed. Morgan sits beside you in the back of the ambulance holding your hand, your fingers twitching between his with every tug. They dosed you and applied a general anaesthesia, but the pain is pervasive. His eyes keep moving back to your hand in Morgan's. He isn't jealous —he's annoyed with himself. Hotch should be the one holding your hand.
He should've hugged you. The absence of it feels awkward between you, though he's positive that that's the last thing you're thinking of right now.
"Will you have to set her nose?" Morgan asks. 
The paramedic shakes his head. "Not broken. Just very badly bruised. Even the bone." 
"That doesn't need a cast?" 
Hotch should hold your hand, should hug you, should be organising the scene. Should, should, should. The only thing he's managed to do since he incapacitated your stranger is watch you for signs of life. 
You're despondent. In shock, no doubt. You let your friends pass you from place to place with little more than pained sighs for input.
JJ does an excellent job of surveying the goings on, while Rossi and Reid take care of some of the bigger questions: who is this guy, what did he want, and how did it come to happen? 
What did he want? Hotch can guess. Rage collects like the heart of a furnace, a molten cup of steel in his throat as what he heard you say plays over and over in his head. 
You'll be gentle? 
No. You think he'd be gentle? Agent Hotchner?
He'll never forget the way you sounded asking that question. Terrified, begging for a scrap of mercy. 
Emily approaches from behind. "We have a name." Hotch tips his head to show he's listening. "Paulo Danvers. He was part of a crew that installed her security parameters a few months ago. He was vetted. This shouldn't have happened." 
"No, it shouldn't have." Hotch lowers his tone, "She said she wasn't sure she set the lock." 
"It wouldn't have mattered. He disengaged it from the outside." Emily takes a few steps closer to the ambulance. "Hey. Morgan taking care of you?" 
"Don't I always?" Morgan asks, clapping your arm gently. 
You don't answer. 
"What, you're not talking to me?" Emily asks. She's not mad, the opposite. Concern lines her eyes, thin brows pinching together at the starts, though she does her best to smile through it. 
"I don't feel well," you say quietly. 
"Yeah? You're not squeamish, are you?" 
"Don't think so." 
"It's shock," says the paramedic. 
"What's your pain like?" Hotch asks. He's the only person you'll give a straight answer to. "Bad?" 
"Yeah." Your hand is lax in Morgan's. 
"I can give you slow release tramadol to last the night or codeine pretty much immediately. It's up to you. And I'm really not comfortable with releasing you without next of kin. Do you have family in the area?" 
You shake your head. "It's just Hotch. Agent Hotchner," you correct yourself, nodding at him.
"You're her partner?" the paramedic asks. He can sense the disapproval. 
"Her boss." 
"Not her partner?" 
"He's my closest friend," you say. 
He's never heard you say that before, but it's true. 
"I wish you were my boss," the paramedic jokes, turning back to her supplies as she peels off her gloves. "Maybe I'd get better sick pay." 
You're given slow release tramadol and officially pronounced to be on the mend. If he didn't have an FBI badge, you'd be spending the night on a ward. He'd prefer if you did, but you clearly don't want to be somewhere alone right now, and he just wants to give you what you want after having your choices held over your head.  
He's not offended when Emily asks if you'd prefer to stay with her. It's harrowing what might have happened to you had you not heard the initial break in, and the perpetrator would've been a man like Hotch. Tall, white, dark-haired. He wouldn't blame you for needing space from him to feel safe tonight, but he's relieved when you turn her down. 
"You don't have to act like something happened to me," you say.
Hotch clicks down the locks of his car and turns on the overhead light. You squirm in the passenger seat, looking wrecked. Your chin is split, your nose a dark purple mess cut by white splint. You have a cut on your cheek and another just above your eye. 
"You don't think something happened?" he asks, hands on his legs. He can tell you wish he would start the car and take you home without pressing. 
"No, I know, I look awful, but he didn't do anything to me." Why is it so hard to say what it could have been? "You don't have to act like I'm gonna wig if you touch me." 
"You won't mind if I hug you?" he asks. 
"No. No, I want you to." 
It's thankfully a short gap to cover as Hotch leans over the console. He's careful of your face and still you mumble a tired, "Ouch," in his ear.
He rubs your back, slow and soft. "You okay?" he asks. 
You don't answer for a while. It doesn't matter, Hotch'll sit here in his parked car for hours if you want him to, hands on your hunched back. Your face hides away. He can feel and hear your distress building, and he wants you to cry if you need to, but it'll hurt.
"Sh," he hushes you gently, "it's okay." 
"I'm fine." You sound welled up. 
"Someone broke into your home and held you at gunpoint. You don't have to be fine." 
"Yeah, I do. It's my job." 
"No, that's not your job," he says, closing his eyes. "This has nothing to do with your job. This is about something bad happening to you. Don't put walls up now. It won't work, it never does." 
He tries to back away in case you're overwhelmed.
"Wait," you say, your panic like a cough. 
"I'm not going anywhere," he says. 
You sniffle, nodding into his chest. Hotch has comforted a hundred victims of violent assault. He's held the faces of women he didn't know hoping to give them something solid to lean on. But it's different with you, because you and Hotch aren't simply friends. There's a deeper vein of affection, and tonight's event is a jagged slash against it, bringing every unbidden feeling he has for you to the surface. He can't get how scared you sounded out of his head. He knows that feeling is still there. 
"How did you get here so fast?" you asked. 
"I took the side road. And went unavoidably fast." 
You make a small, small sound. He's known you for long enough to understand what it demarcates, unsurprised when the trembling of your shoulders turns to pained shaking. Hotch holds you delicately. He's done so much in his life, made a thousand and one mistakes, used a heavy hand when he could've been sweeter. He's determined to get this part right. 
"I'm with you now," he says. "I'm sorry I couldn't–" This is harder than he imagined. He presses on. "Couldn't protect you from the start." 
"You know why I called you?" you ask, your tone similarly soft. 
Hotch doesn't bother answering. The answer is unsaid, loudly heard. 
"I knew you'd come," you finish.
He puts a hand on your neck to encourage you into place, kissing the side of your head. Hotch will always come when you call. 
That night, you ask to sleep in his room. I'll sleep on the floor, just don't want to be alone. You're in ragtag clothes he'd scraped together for you, and after helping you wash the blood from your hair and face, you're even more impossible to say no to than usual, looking small in a way you haven't before. Hotch sets you up in bed next to him and wonders if he'll ever sleep next to someone he hasn't let down. 
You put that notion straight in your sleep. Hotch lays awake sick with the idea that he's failed you, and you, frowning, snoring, covered in cuts, curl into his side. You cling to his arm so hard he's certain you're awake at first, a bouquet of bruises painted across your cheek. 
Hotch pulls the blanket up over your shoulder, planting a chaste kiss to your forehead. 
He whispers your name, not sure what he'd say if you answered. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed♡ I haven't written long form (ish) for Hotch in a while so I'm nervous but I hope it's good!! let me know also if you'd like a second part cos usually I don't feel like there's much left to tell but for this one the could actually confess :o
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cyberjam · 11 months
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ATSV HEADCANON: they get jealous . . . ☆
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warnings - mainly just fluff, maybe a hint of yandere if you squint, insecurities, gender neutral reader, no use of y/n or reader and jealousy from our fave spiders.
word count - 2.4k
main masterlist <33 | proof read?: yes.
based off of this request: jealous hc !!
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. . . ☆ miles morals!e-1610
He'll try and ignore the nasty feeling of jealousy but it's tough when all he can think about is how joyous you look spending time with another guy that isn't him.
It slowly eats away at him the more time you two spend away from each other, and sooner or later you'd notice the change in his demeanor. He was quieter, his greetings weren't the same, and his energy constantly seemed low. Every time you said something he'd reply with a simple hum of acknowledgment and if you were trying to cheer him up with a corny joke the only thing you'd receive was a faulty breath from his lips and a lopsided grin.
His hugs weren't bone-crushing anymore, his texts were in one-words, and even when you two shared a class he acted different. Instead of the usual passing notes and quiet laughter at inside jokes, he simply turned his body towards the window and stayed quiet. He didn't spare a single glance in your direction until the bell rang. Even then he didn't look at you, blankly staring at the floor while gathering his things and blearily walking out with slouched shoulders.
So many confusing thoughts and hurt feelings from made-up scenarios circled around his brain. He wanted to talk to you so badly and just make sure everything was okay. He just didn't know how to approach it, so it continued to eat at him until you confronted him about it.
You saw him walking his usual route towards his place and couldn't help but chase him down. You constantly pestered him and asked him questions to get to the root of the problem but all he did was respond with simple phrases like "I'm fine.", "M' just tired.", and "Nah, I'm good."
Your dedication and unwillingness to let him go home angry finally paid off when he snapped. His words jumbling and his hands flailing in the air as he unleashed every thought and feeling that led to that moment.
Once he finished his rant, you two stood across from each other in complete silence. His chest lifted up and down as if he was exhausted. No words could come to your mouth, but your legs moved without hesitation and before you knew it your arms engulfed him in a tight hug. You felt bad for not being able to express how you felt in words but all miles needed was reassurance and your arms being wrapped around him was more than enough.
. . . ☆ miles morales! e-42
Miles is very straight-forward and blunt. He speaks his mind, which can be a blessing and a curse. With his over-protective nature and blank-like expressions he's more intimidating than most, especially when confronting people he thinks are getting too chummy with you. If a guy is checking you out, miles will speak up before you even notice. "ay, you got a starin' problem or sum?" in situations like these he tends to get touchier with you. Either resting a hand on your hip or hanging his arm over your shoulders and pulling you into his side.
Miles has a certain phrase that he says whenever you scold him for being so confrontational. "They gon have to get through me to get to you." and he tends to stand on that word.
Miles isn't shy of confronting people, or even using violence when it comes down to it. He prefers to handle situations like these with as least violence as possible. He doesn't want to subject you to that kind of thing, if anything he wants to keep you away from it. It's why he's so protective of you and also why you don't know he's the prowler.
You were walking home late at night all by yourself, and as much as you wanted miles to be there with you, he couldn't. You texted him letting him know you'd be staying late after school because of a project. He mentioned how he wouldn't want you walking home by yourself, especially so late at night. So, he decided he'd drive you back home on his motorcycle.
But when the time came for him to pick you up, you were left stranded. He never returned your countless calls or text messages which led into you walking back home all by yourself. Uncomfortable would be an understatement to describe the way you felt as you whisked your way passed sketchy groups of people with your head down. You took shortcuts and turned into ally's to get away from any potential threats not knowing you'd walk right into the hands of one.
A tall lanky man with sunken eyes somehow cornered you in-between the brick wall of a random apartment complex. You were terrified. Your legs grew weak, and your nose started to sting in warning of the incoming tears. All you could do was push your body as far as you possibly could into the wall behind you. Desperately hoping it would engulf you and take you as far away as possible from the situation.
You shut your eyes, bracing for whatever torturous impact to come. Fortunately, it never did. Instead you felt a swift gust of wind past you and the sound of a hard thud paired with a low groan. You cracked your eyes open only to see the mask of the most-feared vigilante in New York. He walked closer and closer until he was finally hovering over you, his mask nearly touching your nose.
As you stood frozen in shock, a clawed hand rested next to your face. "What I say? They gotta get through me to get to you."
. . . ☆ gwen stacy
Gwen is a liar. You can ask her if she's jealous and she'd respond with a scoff and wobbly smirk, scratching the side of her head before replying with something along the lines of "Jealous? No, way." when in reality she's seething. She wants to be completely secure and unbothered like Hobie, but there's always this nagging voice in the back of her head that fills her with annoyance and bitterness.
When someone shows any type of romantic interest in you she'll get tense and her cool facade will be replaced by her visible discomfort. She knows you love her and is continuously reminded when you shut down any confessions, but that painful uneasiness still comes no matter what.
Depending on what mood she's in that day she'll either tense up and shy away from the situation or desperately try to avert your attention back to her.
When one of your classmates walks up to you complimenting you and eyeing you up and down, Gwen's hand that was loosely holding yours fell to her side before returning to her jacket pocket. Her shoulders squared to her ears as she quietly sighed and rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. She avoided eye-contact with you and the person, choosing to look around the hallway as if she wasn't eaves-dropping into the conversation. (she was)
Once the person leaves she'll grab your hand and start pulling you towards the exit "that was weird, right?" she'd murmured half-jokingly while nudging her shoulder with yours.
The next time you and that person interact is when Gwen is over your place. Once you excuse yourself from the conversation and take the call from your classmate, Gwen once again gets antsy. But she's much more combative this time around. She'll snatch her drumsticks up and start tapping on any and all surfaces she can reach. Calling out your name to get your attention so you can focus on her instead of your classmate.
All in all it really depends on what mood you catch her in. She can either be awkward and tense or combative and loud. At the end of the day all she wants is your attention.
. . . ☆ pavitr prabhakar
Pavitr is quite secure in himself and in the relationship, but he does get jealous on occasion. Never from a situation of you simply getting hit on or someone complimenting you, more so from his own insecurities and made-up scenarios that he plays in his head.
He enjoys the time you two have together fully enveloped in each others presence. So, when that time gets interrupted by someone he gets sulky. Time is already very limited for pavitr. With school and his spider duties on top of it he doesn't have as much time to spend with you as he wants. So once he gets you alone he doesn't want a single distraction to interrupt your private time.
A part of him feels guilty that he isn't able to spend much time with you. He has a small insecurity that pops up every now and then, telling himself that you deserve someone who's more attentive and available to your needs. He wants to be that man for you but his responsibilities prevent him from doing so.
You've already mentioned to Pav that you understand he's a busy man with a hefty schedule, so any time you two spend together is valued and cherished. It makes him happy that you're so forgiving and transparent but that doesn't stop the self-shaming thoughts of how bad of a boyfriend he sometimes thinks he is.
Pavitr has a habit of getting you gifts. When his guilty conscience is eating at him for missing out on a romantic date or simple hangout, he tends to buy you more gifts than usual. A single rose will turn into a bouquet, A cute hand-beaded bracelet will turn into a full jewelry set, a bedazzled headband will turn into multiple hair scrunchies and a full pack of hair care.
Once you've noticed this habit you were quick to shut it down, you didn't want him spending money every time he felt bad for having to bail and do his spider duties.
All he needs is to be pampered and reminded that what you want is him, and only him. Tell him how much you adore him and smuggle him in affection. Whether it be words of affirmation, quality time, or physical touch, Pavitr will immediately be putty in your hands. Just being engulfed by you and having you dote on him will immediately wash away any and all bad thoughts.
. . . ☆ hobie brown
Hobie doesn't really get jealous. He's extremely secure in himself and the relationship. If you're the type of person who likes to flirt for fun or is just naturally flirty, he wouldn't even bat an eye at you coyly chatting with another person.
Hobie knows you only have eyes for him so he never gets defensive or jealous by your coquettish attitude with others. You know where home is and at the end of the day you always return. But that's only with flirting. If you tend to get touchy or make-out with other people then he would get annoyed and slightly agitated. Especially if you'd established there was something between you two.
He wouldn't particularly mind other people flirting with you unless someone was genuinely being creepy and overbearing. He wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable for any reason in any situation. So, seeing you nervously fiddle with your hands or curl into yourself when certain advances were made would enrage him to an extent. These are the times Hobie will take on a more defensive/protective role.
He doesn't get into many brawls (mainly because he doesn't have to) He's quite intimidating so when he tells someone to back down they're gonna back down, quickly and efficiently. If anyone had the balls to step to Hobie in a threatening way they'd def be met with more than they could handle.
But in most situations Hobie usually just plays along with the flirting. He knows you're a good piece of eye-candy so it's not surprising to him whenever you get hit on. His chest also can't help but swell in pride when you mention that you have a partner, who just so happens to be Hobie.
Imagine you're both at the pub. Sitting at the bar, and leaning into each other with lovesick smiles. The sweet exchange of teasing words was interrupted by the gruff voice of the bartender setting down an alcoholic drink you weren't really familiar with. "Compliments from the gentleman over there." he murmured, tilting his head towards a man who sat across the bar. Before you could even fully react Hobie grabbed the glass and downed it within seconds. "Cheers, mate." he responded with a smile while lifting the glass in the air.
You just grow to love and laugh at his antics.
. . . ☆ miguel o'hara
You'll know he's jealous. Miguel is very obvious when he's bothered by something, even when he tries to hide it.
His movements are more stiff than usual and if you're close enough you can hear him lowly spitting profanities in his native tongue. Not to mention when he gets jealous to the point he's genuinely angry his claws will shoot out. There are multiple claw marks on couches and different desks at the headquarters that have yet to be fixed.
He angry pouts but he doesn't really know it. Whenever you're having a conversation with someone and it's prolonged for a little too long or the person you're speaking to is showing some type of interest in you, Miguel will just tower over you from behind with crossed arms and an annoyed look. as he stares the person down.
You're the most important thing in Miguel's life. He's already lost so much in different lifetimes and a part of him feels like he should live his life alone, suffering without a family or a lover simply because he feels like he doesn't deserve it, he doesn't deserve you.
There will be times where he tries to push you away, a part of him feels like if he pushes you away enough and tries to emotionally disconnect from the relationship you leaving him won't hurt as much. You have to be patient and reassure him that you're not going anywhere. The only reason he does stuff like that is because a small part of him genuinely believes you'll leave him at some point.
He tends to be overbearing when he gets jealous. Pushing you behind him when someone starts to be a bit suggestive, staring down anyone who he thinks is getting too comfortable with you, and butting in convos to speak for you when he's close to going over the edge.
Miguel can be overprotective and extremely overbearing at times, but it's always because he has your best interest in mind. He needs you in his life and to keep you he will deflect any and all threats that try and take you away.
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A/N🪷: whenever i think of e-42 miles the killmonger music starts playing in my head lol
this was also a little rushed because i've been busy with work and im a little sleep-deprived, BUT i will come back with another fic soon <3 ty lovelies :)
likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated <33
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kalims · 2 months
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⊹ giving them flowers
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premise. no plot we are just giving them flowers cause guys deserve some too <3
content. fluff, mini scenarios, azul turns into a silly nerd (affectionate)
featuring. jamil, sebek, riddle, azul.
note. actually accidentally posted this yesterday and got a heart attack (also an actual consistent posting schedule...?)
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jamil gives you a look.
he spares a long stare at the bouquet you clutch between your hands, wearing an awfully cheeky grin that's chipping off the scold in his throat. "how many times have I told you this?" he deadpans.
but from the obvious fact that you're holding it. it's not like jamil can do anything about it.
"you don't buy flowers for yourself," he says firmly. I'm supposed to be the one getting them for you. he would like to add.
"they're a waste of madol?" you tilt your head.
he answers immediately. "no, just—" jamil's eye twitches like he's trying his hardest to keep something. "don't,"
perhaps he's being a little too blunt but it makes him upset. is he really messing up in gift giving to the extent where you have to buy something for.. yourself? and jamil is pretty sure gifts are called as such for a reason.
and that they're from, or gifted to another person.
you chuckle in your fist, but he continues to ramble; "also it's hard to care for flowers when you don't know much, i don't want you to—"
"jamil hon, my baby, the apple of my eye, the love of my life, they're for you,"
you say simply, and watch in amusement when his moments stutter before they stop to a complete freeze.
a furious wave of heat crawls up on his back but he's praying frantically. now is not the time. he seethes.
... he just tripped over his words.
jamil reluctantly accepts the flowers after you've finished laughing your ass off, and the only thing in his mind is the love.
okay maybe he should pick up a book about caring for flowers. do they even survive in the harsh conditions of scarabia?
whatever he'll make it work.
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you should've expected this.
despite your arm honestly starting to tremble under the stress of holding it out for about 2 minutes straight now, you still attempt a smile—although strained. wouldn't want sebek to find it an unfriendly gesture.
even though he probably already thinks that anyways.
you don't want to color sebek in a way that shows that his only personality is being suspicious to everyone, and of course. the dearest young master he adores. (seriously though it's a little concerning, and you're kinda jealous.)
sebek stares at the bouquet in your hand with scrutinizing eyes, as if to say non-verbally: 'what is this'.
you sigh when he just stares at it like it's a bomb. "it's flowers." you deadpan.
sebek pursues his lips, looks away before looking back. "I can see that!" he says like he wasn't wearing a face that made you think you had to explain. but he just crosses his arms and falls silent with a huff. "for the young master, yes?'
he pauses. "I can atleast acknowledge your gesture, human!"
was that supposed to be good? you weren't given the chance to explain because he continues again; "though I will have to make sure that these aren't anything the young master is allergic to." he nods to himself, as though proud for being so thoughtful.
your eye twitches. you're a little surprised that he didn't even imply that it could be possibly a bomb inside to try and assassinate them.. but you notice a slight tense-ness to his demeanor.
you know cause he's huffed about 5 times in the past 1 minute, he's looked away and he's very clearly sneaking peaks at your hand.
—then he huffs to himself! then it repeats.
"I will take them to the young master at once!" he announces with his loud volume, stepping forward to grab it from you but you ultimately beat him. you're just praying he doesn't find you 10x more suspicious the moment you had wrenched it back to yourself with surprising strength you didn't know you had.
even he looked surprised!
"no, sebek.." you heave. "they're not for malleus, they're for you."
he didn't have the heart to correct the way you addressed the young master before he dutifully exploded.
he's shaking away from you with a wobbling, agape mouth. he could only open and close them dumbly, not beir capable to let a word out.
you suppose he was too speechless because he didn't even say anything when you happily pushed the bouquet to his chest like nothing happened.
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for someone who's most diligent in studying, you'd think riddle would be able to catch on easily on the gist of your actions.
but he just blinks when you hold out your hand. pretty gray eyes trained on the bouquet of red roses in your grasp, then onto your face with inquisitive question apparent with the raise of his brow.
"we have plenty of roses in our gardens." he says, as though like giving him... these is the most bizarre phenomenon in his life.
it seems like he feels the need to add. "we grow them."
you smile, the sweet thing awfully tight on your face. "they're for you," you explain. a little perturbed that you need to in the first place, but it's riddle so you sorta understand?
riddle squints. "why?"
you blank. "like... like a gift, for you? you know. cause I want to."
then as if the slowness of the processing going on in his brain gradually speeds up. it's obvious he's probably realized the implications of your little gift from the jolt, then widened eyes who stare in disbelief.
riddle gulps. "for, me?" he asks stupidly.
your raised brows say yes.
it's almost hilarious when he accepts them gratefully and stares at them like you just sprouted a literal white rose from the ground, wrapped it in some fancy plastic, and then handed it to him with a smile.
silence ensues again. riddle notices, screeches in his head to do something about it except he can't, cause his mind seems to be broken right now and he can't exert any words but a stammer.
and he'd really like to relearn how to speak because you're fidgeting on the spot, clearly nervous by his silence.
"sorry," you chuckle. "um.. it's just red roses, not white, or blue, or pink—"
"no!" he blurts out far too quickly. hands stretched out in the air a little as though reaching out to stop you but then stiffly staying by his side. riddle clears his throat. "I mean... this is... very important to me."
you look like you don't really believe him cause he was going off about roses in his dorm before.
he flushes, away from your gaze. "because its from you."
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you can barely see azul.
or gauge out his reaction if it's supposed to be good or bad, because you can barely even see his eyes from all the sudden sheen of white over it. did all the smoke in the room just gravitate over his glasses conveniently or something?
you can spot the joints in his fingers twitching but oddly enough he remains stiff in front of you. uncharacteristically silent, which wouldn't really lead to good things.
"hello?" with your free hand, devoid of any flowers with the power of freezing a person. you wave it in front of his face which seems to have done a pretty good job with snapping him out of whatever trance he's in.
the glasses slip down the bridge of his nose but he fixes them at record speed. admittedly with clammy fingers.
azul coughs. "thank you very much." he clutches them tighter, pursuing his lips.
"I know octavinelle is not the best place for warmer places," he starts and a flash of confusion on your face is something he misses. "but I will manage it and find an accommodation for these, around 34 or 35 degrees."
your brows furrow. what.
"hmm yes... a nice vase, I'll use the most pure water there is." he rants. "then I'll fill it up with two thirds of its container and make sure it lives healthy."
that's... concerning.
"I'll have jade clean it regularly." he says and you're honestly more scared for the flowers. "I cannot trust floyd either so I'll trim it by two centimeters at the right angle occasionally when it dries."
he says all that, with a pink face.
you awkwardly stand there taking in azuls apparent plans on how to ensure the lifespan of your 'thoughtful' gift will be extended as far as he can help in to commerce your honor.
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sttoru · 9 months
Note
dad!Toji losing megumi on his sight in a grocery store.
⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff.
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“where the hell did that brat go. . .” toji sighs in frustration as he makes his third trip around the numerous aisles, peeking through each gap between to see where his son could’ve possibly hid.
you had been gone for one minute to grab something you had forgotten in the car, leaving your husband and son alone at the grocery store. you thought toji would be more than capable of keeping an eye on megumi during the time you left.
he did succeed for a couple seconds, but then somehow lost sight of the little boy. it happened out of the blue—even for someone as quick as toji, his child seemed to have disappeared into thin air, without him noticing at all.
“tsk, just wait ‘til i catch ya..” toji scoffs and makes quick strides. the other customers seemed to scurry off to the sides as the dark-haired man passes them—the reason for this being his bulky and tall body and that cold yet pissed off expression on his face whilst walking forwards.
of course, toji was still secretly worried for megumi. he didn’t want to think of the worst case scenario at all. he needs to stay calm and collected in such situations. panicking will do him no good.
toji passes by a pit of plushies, paying it no mind until he hears a soft, muffled giggle from that same area. he stops in his tracks and turns his head to the right. that voice was one he could recognise from miles away.
“oh, y’re so done.” the dark-haired man mutters under his breath and digs through the many plushies, hands looking for the source of that giggle. there were a couple strands of dark blue hair sticking out from between the big stuffed animals and toji wasted no time, “c’mere, brat.”
he uses a bit of his strength and fishes out a child from under the pile of softness—his child.
“papa!” megumi squeals and was holding onto a plushie: a cute black dog one. it seems like he had waddled off and climbed onto the box to grab that specific plushie, but couldn’t get out afterwards, “papa, waf! waf!”
toji sighs and holds megumi up by the back of his shirt, walking back to your shopping cart. he gains some stares due to the obscure way he was carrying his son around, though megumi himself couldn’t care any less as he cuddles up to the plushie in his tiny arms.
toji puts the little boy in the baby seat and grabs onto the stuffed animal, tugging at it; “gimme that. ya can’t have it ‘cause ya ran off without tellin’ me.”
megumi whines and pulls the toy back in his arms, giving toji a pleading look. his lips formed a desperate pout and his eyes were starting to glisten with tears that appeared on his waterlines.
“yeah, stare at me all you want with those big bug eyes—y’re not gonna get that.” your husband shakes his head and grabs the plushie again, taking it away from his son to put it back.
megumi reacts to this by curling his chubby hand around toji’s index finger—still with that cute pout on his lips whilst trying to prevent his dad from stepping away. it’s specifically those shiny blue orbs that seem to mellow toji’s heart to the point he almost gives in.
“…”
you come back after five minutes and spot your family back in the candy aisle. the duo didn’t appear to have seen you yet since they were busy picking out some sweets for later.
“hi, my angels.” you creep up behind toji and tap his back. he instantly steps aside and your (surprisingly) super excited son comes into view.
megumi was smiling widely and that’s when your eyes land on something in his arms.
“oh, you got ‘gumi a dog plushie!” you gasp and seem to get excited for your child—megumi giggling right alongside you, “how nice!”
toji rolls his eyes, though wasn’t about to admit that he eventually did give in to megumi’s adorable tactics. he gently flicks the little boy’s forehead and looks back at you;
“didn’t get it for him out of my own free will.” your husband grumbles and then continues to squish megumi’s cheeks together using one hand, “this little brat threatened me.”
“i’m sure he did.” you chuckle and nudge toji’s side with your elbow. you knew just how much of a softie really is for his son.
“i’m not lyin’,” toji replies with a sigh and pushes the cart ahead, you following next to him with a smile, “he threatened me with those big eyes of his. i’m tellin’ ya, that stuff is dangerous.” —for my heart, he adds in his head.
you couldn’t contain your laughter as you hear your lover’s words. your gaze then lands on megumi, who was contentedly staring up at both his parents, cuddled up to the big stuffed animal.
“good job.” you gave megumi a thumbs up and ruffle his hair as a reward. the kid sticks his tongue out and almost looks proud of the fact that he got his way in the end.
toji really was just a big softie for his son. and for his wife as well, of course.
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steddielations · 2 months
Text
nsfw, actor eddie, hair and makeup artist steve, sub top
The downside of Eddie having a bunch of tattoos is that he has to sit in the makeup trailer longer than anyone else getting them covered, along with his character’s makeup. 
The plus side is he gets more time with Steve. 
They have this game. It started on Eddie’s first day. He was all wired up with nerves because it’s his first time in a lead role on a big production like this.
Every nightmare scenario of how he could screw up was running through his mind. He couldn’t sit still enough for Steve to give him the wavy hair and facial scars that his character has. 
Eddie kept apologizing and Steve was great about it. He asked Eddie about the heart on his arm with “Wayne” across the ribbon and distracted Eddie from over-practicing his lines, busy telling Steve all about his uncle who raised him and where they’re from. 
Eddie killed it on set that day, and pretty much every day since then. He loves acting, he loves fully immersing himself in the story he’s telling. This role is the biggest of his career so far, but it’s not even about that, he loves the character he’s playing, he meshes well with the director and has chemistry with his co-stars.
But Steve is his favorite part of this whole deal.
Eddie ran out of tattoos for their little game of telling Steve the story behind a different one every day. They never ran out of things to talk about though.
But Steve takes his job seriously and he’s good at it. He explained once why he likes doing this. It’s an art, getting the right look for the right character, or the right person, connecting with and taking care of whoever’s in his chair.
He explained it all while he was running his fingers through Eddie’s hair in those perfectly practiced strokes. Steve’s very good at his job, that’s why it feels so nice when he touches Eddie, even if it’s just work, because Steve cares about this. That’s why it’s easy for Eddie to be lulled into bliss when Steve’s fingers are so gentle on his scalp.
And, okay Eddie’s not made of stone, and he has eyes so he has a thing for Steve. A crush, but there’s a line there. This is work. They’re co-workers, despite how many pretty smiles and lingering looks are exchanged. Eddie won’t cross that line.
Until he does. 
It’s an accident. He never would have done it on purpose. 
Steve’s fingers are just so talented. Eddie’s eyes are closed, he was having another fit of nerves earlier so Steve took extra time with his hair. It put Eddie in a space so relaxed that he feels like he’s floating when Steve’s hand twists in his hair with the perfect amount of tension. It feels so intentional. The moan just slips out.
Eddie apologizes like crazy afterward, he feels terrible. Steve is a picture of professionalism, he’s charming and fun but he runs the makeup trailer like it's the navy and he takes his shit seriously and Eddie crossed a line. 
But Steve just shushes him, guides him to sit back in the chair and says it’s alright. 
Eddie blinks in disbelief but Steve just looks at him. 
It’s a look. 
A look that Eddie can’t stop thinking about for the rest of production.
It’s a look he sees again on his last day on set.
Eddie already shook everyone’s hands and said his goodbyes. He's just stopping by his trailer one last time to make sure the assistants got all his stuff cleared out. 
When he opens the door, his stomach flips, finding Steve waiting inside for him.
“You wrapped filming today,” Steve says in place of a greeting. But his smile and the way his arm is languidly stretched over the back of the couch is inviting. 
Something tells Eddie to lock the door before he goes over to sit next to Steve.
His gaze is even more intense up close. Eddie feels Steve’s eyes on him everywhere, like he’s just eating Eddie up. 
“Yeah, I did,” Eddie says, a tad nervous.
He doesn't want to make a move he can’t take back in case he’s wrong about why Steve’s in his trailer looking at him like that. He doesn’t want to be one of those douchebag movie stars that assumes everyone wants him and he has a free pass to hit on the crew. He’s sure Steve’s had enough of that bullshit.
“We don’t work together anymore,” Steve simply states.
“I know, it sucks,” Eddie laughs a bit sad because he really is, “Sorry if it’s weird to say, but I’m gonna miss you.”
Steve’s eyes shift between Eddie’s and then down to his lips, making his heart stutter in his chest.
“No it’s a good thing,” Steve says and Eddie’s brows knit in confusion. “It means I can do this finally.”
Eddie thinks he’s watching his daydreams play out the way Steve starts leaning in. 
It’s only real when Steve’s lips press softly to his.
Just once, so light, long enough for Eddie to catch on that it’s happening, then Steve pulls back before Eddie can reciprocate.
Steve chuckles faintly at the dramatic frown Eddie’s pulling. 
Then Steve’s hand cups Eddie’s cheek, his thumb stroking Eddie’s face as he tells him, “We can stop there and keep it professional and say our goodbyes. Or I can climb on your lap and give you something to remember me by.”
Eddie gulps. Steve’s offer and his silky voice and his perfect touch that Eddie’s already so addicted to is such a heady mix, making it hard to form words. “Yes, climb me— I mean, option B.”
“Yeah, honey, you want that?” God, Eddie always blushed hot when Steve called him that casually in the makeup trailer, now he’s melting hearing Steve say it like this. “Well, go on and take your pants off for me.”
It happens in a syrupy warm blur. Eddie sheds his jeans and underwear like he’s told and he’s rewarded with a gorgeously naked Steve Harrington in his lap. He’s allowed to touch, only after Steve has threaded his fingers through Eddie’s hair more reverently than any time before, like something precious in his hands, and kisses Eddie deep and hard. 
Then Eddie gets to nuzzle the chest hair that’s been driving him crazy peeking out of Steve’s shirt every time he leaned over. Eddie gets to touch Steve’s soft strong thighs, feeling the smatter of hair leading up to his ass that’s been driving Eddie even more insane trying not to stare at. Then he slips his fingers in and moans into Steve’s mouth when he feels the hard bulb of a plug nestled inside Steve.
Steve pulls back from the kiss, smiling and smearing his thumb over the spit on Eddie’s lips. “Yeah, I’m so ready for you, Eddie, baby, you have no idea.”
Eddie’s practically drooling watching Steve take out the plug and get a bottle of lube from between the cushions and a condom, oiling up his hand. When his fist wraps around Eddie’s cock, Eddie helplessly bucks into it, but Steve’s solid thighs pin him down. That makes his mind lust-foggy and his eyes flutter up at Steve, who bites his lip watching Eddie as he lines up to his hole.
“Mm... you know how bad I wanted you?” Steve sounds relieved as he sinks down on Eddie’s cock. “You know how bad I wanted to climb on your lap when you were sitting in my chair. You know how starry-eyed you get when you’re drifting? Just from me touching your hair, so fucking cute.”
Eddie’s just a mess of moans, Steve is so hot and tight around him. It’s too much with all the sweet praise to really comprehend that Steve knew all those times he was getting spacy.
“It’s so easy to put you down.” Steve’s breath comes harder, not letting Eddie move as he starts to roll his hips. “Such an actor, high strung all the time but that’s okay. It’s your passion. That’s sexy. Been dying to hold you down and ride you until you can’t think about anything but me, though.”
Eddie gasps out a groan when Steve tugs sharply on his hair, being right about everything that Eddie’s into so far. It’s no secret that Eddie’s intense, just a different kind of intensity in the bedroom than with his craft. 
Steve seems to get it, seems to know that Eddie needs everything hard and relentless with the way he’s bouncing on Eddie’s dick. He can feel the strength in Steve’s hips, dying to feel them fucking into him too, mouth watering at the sight of his thick cock jumping with all the movement.
“You’d let me tie you down and use you, hm?” Steve asks, drawing Eddie by the hair into a biting kiss that just barely grazes the surface of what Eddie would let Steve do to him. “I know. I’d fuck you up so good if we had time, baby.”
“Steve, holy shit,” Eddie practically sobs, fingers digging into Steve’s ass.
“You close, honey?” 
“Fuck, yeah.” 
Steve suddenly cups his face, just a tad rough and Eddie thought— hoped for one hot moment— that Steve was going to slap him. Just the thought is enough to make him do what he's supposed to, “Can I?” 
“Mh-hm just keep looking at me,” Steve strokes Eddie’s face as he circles his hips and takes Eddie deep. “Wanna see those pretty eyes when you come inside me.”
Eddie does as he’s told, his gaze falling half-shut as he lets go, spilling into the condom like he’s pumping Steve full.
It’s the hottest thing that’s ever happened to him, followed by the second hottest thing when Steve kisses his slack mouth as his warm heavy spurts of come land on Eddie’s belly.
While Eddie’s coming down, he lets Steve shift him onto the couch. He gets some tissues and then pulls Eddie to lie on his chest because of course he would, he’s Steve.
“Was that enough to remember me by when you get all big and famous?” Steve asks after a while, trailing his knuckles down Eddie’s bare arm.
Eddie looks up, seeing the first glimpse of hesitance in all of Steve’s practiced smoothness.
So Eddie leans in and assures him between pecks on his lips that slowly turn to smiles pressing together. “Nope, think we gotta do it again. And again. And again.” 
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a-hazbin-reader · 3 months
Note
Can you do an Alastor x fem!reader where Alastor confesses his love to her, but she doesn't believe him, thinking it's some kind of sick joke? She just laughs nervously, saying something like “yeah, yeah, I got it, very good joke, Al, your humor is getting better,” expecting that it will actually turn out to be some kind of prank
However, Alastor doesn't stop and tries to convey to her that he really loves her, but she still doesn't believe him because she doesn't trust him completely. Like, he's the radio demon, one of the most dangerous and powerful overlords who seemingly despised the idea of ​​getting close to someone, what if he just wants to trick her so he can maybe make a deal with her or something?? That's why at first she tries to avoid him in order to get rid of this awkwardness due to his confessions, but gradually in the end she begins to meet him halfway and considers the idea of ​​​​starting to date him after all. Not official yet, but the chances are great
WELP-
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: None?? I think??
Description: ☝️⬆️
You're used to expecting the worst-case scenario and protecting your heart first and foremost, it's just how you learned to survive
You've learned not to trust anyone, especially anybody down here in hell with you, everyone has an ulterior motive
Yet...by some weird twist of fate you found yourself a home at the hotel, Charlie somehow having convinced you to stay
Whether or not you believed in redemption, you couldn't deny that you didn't feel a sense of closeness with everyone there
Even Alastor was nice to hang around sometimes, though you didn't trust him in the slightest
How could you? The Radio Demon?? He's got plans for his plans and only sees people for their use, he doesn't care about anyone, especially not you
You're just amusing to him, which is fine, you can tolerate being amusing just not being used
You had a comfortable relationship with the overlord which was something that not many people could say
You two got along well enough, spent a good amount of time together and actually had decent conversations
He'a charming and handsome, a dangerous combination but you were far too addicted to his presence now to worry about it, you can still protect your heart
Or at least you did, until Alastor decided to toy with your feelings, how he found out about your budding crush was beyond you
You two were walking alone together at night, laughing at some couple you two had witnessed earlier, teasing them
"I just don't understand how any man could be that whipped for a woman! I can't wrap my head around it..!"
Instead of joining in your laughter, he hummed and looked over at you strangely before looking ahead
"Oh, I don't know... I find myself understanding men like that a little more these days."
It's like a bucket of ice water just fell on you, your laughter cutting off as you look at him in confusion
"What do you mean? Are you...seeing someone or something?"
He looks as uncomfortable as a man with a permanent smile can be, tapping his claws against his staff
"Heavens no, but that doesn't mean there isn't someone special in my life... someone I wouldn't mind courting."
He gives you a meaningful glance then looks away again, stopping suddenly and facing you
"Alastor-"
"I wouldn't mind being whipped for you."
Your stomach sours and you frown, pushing at his shoulder a little harder than you meant to
"Yeah, that's real funny, Alastor. Why don't you go try that joke on someone else next time?"
You walk off as quickly as you can, leaving a baffled looking Alastor in your dust
Do you have any idea how hard it was for him to confess!? He grits his teeth and rubs his hand over his face as he watches you run away from him
You don't talk to him the next day, or the day after that, in fact... Alastor is pretty sure you're avoiding him because any time he tries to talk to you-
You find an excuse to run off, your relationship with him awkward and nervously hanging on by a thread
He ruined it and all your walls came right back up
You should've known he would exploit your weakness like that, should've seen that he was only being so good to you because he wanted to use everything he learned against you
You don't know what he gets out of it or what his goal is, but you're sure he's got an angle
Even now, he's trying to mess with your feelings, bringing you flowers, pushing little notes under your door, one time he even tried to serenade you
He keeps trying to tell you that he cares about you, that he feels for you, that he wants you, and you just don't want to hear it
It hurts to be toyed with
Everyone else at the hotel can see what's happening between you two which makes everything that much more embarrassing
"Come on, Husk! I know you know something! Why is he targeting me!? What do I have that he wants?"
Husk looks visibly uncomfortable, looking over your body before looking away, suddenly interested in a smudge on a glass
"I don't know anything so quit asking me! Why don't you just sit down and talk with him, huh?"
Oh, he knows something
Angel smirks and nudges your leg with his own, invading your personal space to further tease you
"You're tellin' me that you ain't flattered by all this attention he's givin' you? I've seen the way he's been mooning over you lately, and let me tell you~ That shit ain't fake~"
You huff and shake your head, mostly to hide the blush on your face from them
"He has an angle, everyone always does."
"Look if you wanna be a blind bitch then be my guest but at least promise me you'll hit that and tell me the details~?"
"ANGEL!"
You can't avoid Alastor forever no matter how hard you try, eventually running into him late one night when everyone else is in bed
You should've known better than to get that late night snack, but you had skipped dinner earlier, and you were hungry
You're washing your plate off when you hear Alastor walk in, stiffening once you realize you have no real excuse to run away anymore
"Alastor-"
He sucks in a breath and stays still as if scared he'll chase you away, which he might actually be worried about due to your actions lately
"I know you think I confessed to you in order to get something from you but that's far from the truth. I do genuinely find myself attached to you."
You feel your lip wobble a little, hugging yourself as you look away from him
"Don't. Don't you dare mess with me like this or I'll never forgive you, Alastor."
He takes another step closer to you, cautious as if trying not to scare you away
"I'm being entirely honest with you, I've fallen for you in ways I can't even begin to understand or convey to you. These last few weeks have been torture for me."
He's gripping your arms gently to stop you from turning away, the simple touch spreading warmth throughout your body
You have missed him a lot...
"I'm not asking that you confess your love to me, I only want a chance to show you I'm being genuine with you..."
You glance up at him before taking a step back, blushing furiously at the pathetic puppy eyes he's giving you
You can't believe you're going to agree to this, he better not make you regret it later or you'll make him suffer for it
You sigh and point at him, doing your best to remain calm and not let your emotions show
"I'll think about it, okay? Just...give me time to think."
He visibly relaxes and sighs in relief, giving you a warm smile as if you had just said yes
"That's more than I could ask for, I'll wait hundreds of years for you if that's what you want."
You blush more and have to cover your mouth to stop an excited squeal from escaping your lips
"Q-quit flirting with me! I already said I'd think about it..!"
He chuckles softly and reaches out to rub your cheek before pulling away and turning to leave
"Okay okay~ I'll wait for you...~"
He leaves you there in the dark, blushing and fuming to yourself
Having a handsome overlord on your arm wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen to you
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I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!
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fallingdownhell · 7 months
Note
i love your recent posts but can i request hurt/comfort genshin impact xiao, wanderer, cyno where like they get into an argument about the reader being weak or something like that
although they didn't mean it, but after a few days after the argument, they see reader like training hard for them because of the fight.
<3
Mhh, always. You know I love me a good dose of angst! And I'm sorry, but I only included two of the requested characters, because otherwise this would haven gotten way too out of hand and too much to read. Hope you're okay with that.
Characters Included: Xiao; Wanderer
Content: gender neutral reader; angst; comfort; hurt/comfort; established relationship; arguments between them and reader; shouting and cursing at reader in wanderer's scenario; Kunikuzushi/Kuni is being used for Wanderer
Word count: 2,2k words
Enjoy the read!
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Xiao
You have to understand him. He's just looking out for you!
There is a clear, natural difference in strength between you and him!
He's an adeptus after all, and you're just a human! Sure, you possess a vision and you know perfectly well how to utilize it to your advantage in battle, but he's still your boyfriend! Let him be worried about you!
Honestly, he really just had your best interest and saftey in mind when he approached you one day, offering to train with you and possibly make you stronger, since he noticed your form to be a bit lacking when he watched you train.
The problem was, he told you exactly what he was thinking, no filter whatsoever. Which in turn caused you to get a bit defensive with him. That didn't sit right with Xiao, because in his eyes, he was only trying to help you.
This then resulted in a huge argument, where neither of you wanted to back down against the other.
"(Name), for the love of the Archons. Can't you see I'm only trying to help you here?"
"By berating me and telling me all the things I'm doing wrong? Without offering any advise at all? Yeah, great help.", you scoff as you turn your back to your boyfriend, trying to resume your exercise in peace. You were hoping that he would get the hint, to leave you alone. But he didn't.
"I'm really only looking out for you. You lack basic knowledge with the sword and you lack stamina as well. You're moving around too much, you make so many unnecassary movements. The hold you have on your weapon is too loose. Anyone could easily knock it out of your hand. Also-!"
"Okay! I got it!", you suddenly burst out as Xiao keeps on listing the things you're doing wrong in his eyes. It not only frustrated you, but it also made you feel so inferior.. to him and basically everyone else. You know that everyone starts out at some point. Everyone has to learn from the beginning. So why is he being so mean to you? Shouldn't he be more supporting of you as your boyfriend?
"I get it. You've made your point very clear."
You speak again, while Xiao just stares at you, mouth still hanging open. He didn't expect for you to raise your voice like this. You were usually so soft spoken.
You stared into each others eyes for a few more seconds, before you let out a sigh and placed your sword back into its sheat.
"I'm going home.", you announce as you go to grab your stuff. You collect everything and put it in your back, leaving without taking another look at him.
Suddenly, Xiao got the feeling that he made a huge mistake. Not only by "helping" you out with your training, but also as he let you go like this without having a talk with you, but something told him to let you be for the time being.
.....
Well... did he regret letting you just go like that. It has been almost a week since he last saw you, because you refused to call his name like you usually did on a daily basis.
And he was afraid of seeking you out himself, since he feared to only further sour your mood with an unannounced visit from his side. But he wanted to see you again so badly...
When the one week mark was reached without hearing anything from you, Xiao has had enough. He needed to make sure that you were okay. He was certain you would have called his name if you were in mortal danger, despite the argument at hand, but it's better to be safe than sorry. He needed to know you were still alive..
So, he teleported to your home, waiting for a few seconds in front of the door, gathering courage, before knocking on the door. He waited and waited, but nothing happened. He knocked again, but still nothing.
Xiao was about to leave again, scolding himself in his head, because of course you wouldn't open, you obviously didn't want to see him right now, when he heard noises coming from a bit further away.
Deciding to investigate, he followed the noises. And what he saw did shock him a bit..
He saw you, standing in a circle of training dummys, practicing different moves and tactics. He could tell that your hold on the blade has gotten better over the week you have been apart. In fact, everything he had critiqued about your skills seems to have improved...
Have you been training relentlessly this entire time??
This made him feel even more bad about this entire argument. He wanted to help you, not make you overexert yourself like this, just to prove something to him..
Deciding that it was finally time to talk, he approached you. You heard the footsteps coming your direction and turned towards them. Surprised to see Xiao there, you stopped in the middle of your session, facing him.
It was quiet for a few seconds as he arrived in front of you, and when you couldn't take it anymore, you decided to speak up again.
"What? Here to berate me even more?" It sounded way more sarcastic and hurtful than you had intended it to, and you saw Xiao flinch the slightest bit at your words, but you didn't back down from them.
"No..", Xiao answered weakly.
"I'm here to apologize." His words left you surprised, not expecting this at all.
"I didn't realize how much my words were hurting you. That was never my intention, (Name). I.. I'm just worried about you. There is a clear difference in skill, after all, but I shouldn't have been like this to you. I sincerely apologize for the way I treated you."
You have been with Xiao long enough to know two things. First, he was being completely honest with you. You could tell by the tone in his voice and the way he tried to look into your eyes, while also trying to avoid them at the same time, feeling embarrassed about being this vulnerable with someone.
Second, you knew just how hard it was for him to be honest and vulnerable with you. Saying this must have caused so much for him to do, yet he did it anyway.. for you.
For a second, you stood there and stared at him, before sighing and walking over to him, wrapping your arms around his body in a warm, comfortable hug. He did not hesitate for a second before doing the same, having missed this feeling dearly for the past week.
"I don't mind you helping me or giving me advise.. but maybe don't be so brash and insulting about it. Okay?"
He nodded, promising you to be more careful with his words from now on.
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Wanderer
You sighed with relief as the Ruin guard in front of you collapsed and shattered into its parts, the cut on your side hurting a bit when you breathed, but it wasn't bleeding too bad, so the wound must not be too bad, either.
You were usually not that easy to surprise, but for some reason, you overlooked that particular ancient machine, resulting in it getting a hit on you before it was taken down.
Though, you were not the one responsible for taking it down. The actual reason was flying in from behind it, your boyfriend, Kuni. And while you were smiling at him, wanting to thank him for his help, he had a scowl on your face as he landed in front of you.
"What the hell were you thinking, Idiot? You would be dead now if it weren't for me being here!", he shouted as soon as he landed, not letting you get a word in.
You were taken aback by his harsh words and tone, staring at him, which only made him even more agitated.
"The hell? You don't even have an excuse! How can you be so fucking careless? I know you're weak but I wouldn't have thought of you being this stupid as well!"
You heard each and every single one of his words, and they all stung right in your chest. You were aware of the difference in power between you two, but that didn't mean you were incompetent with your polearm. You've trained long and hard to get to the point where you are now, and you were proud of yourself for it.
When you looked into his eyes again, you could see a bit of shock behind them, like he was surprised himself that the words actually left his lips.
You waited a few seconds, to see if he would apologize to you or take them back, but nothing came. Kuni's pride hindered him from doing the right thing..
"I see. If that's what you think of me, I won't be in your way again."
The words sounded cold when they left your lips, and Kunikuzushi flinched ever so slightly when hearing them, but you didn't react to it. Instead, you turned and walked away from him without acknowledging his presence any longer.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing? Where are you going?", he shouted after you, but no response. Then, he chased after you, but when he noticed that you were still ignoring him, he gave up on it, figuring that it would be best to leave you alone for the time being.
Surely, you would come crawling back to him soon enough... right?
....
....
Two weeks.
The incident has happened two weeks ago. And for those two weeks, he did not hear or see anything of you, whatsoever.
He was so sure that you wouldn't even survive a week without him before coming back and apologizing, but it seemed like he was wrong this time.
And he hated to admit this, even to himself, but.. he missed you. Missed your stupid, cheerful smile, your laugh and the way you always made his day better, just by spending time with him.
After about a week and a half, he began to think, that maybe, this time, he was actually the one in the wrong. That maybe, he took it too far with his words this time around.
Maybe.. he should be the one to apologize to you.
And yet, it took him a few more days to overcome his stupidly high pride and actually follow through with his thoughts.
Nahida, who knew all about the situation from Kuni himself, smiled and nodded proudly as the puppet went to leave the Sanctuary of Surasthana.
He first searched for you at your home, but you couldn't be found there. Then, he went on a stroll through the city, hoping to run into you along the way, but that too, proofed to be without success.
His last hope was the adventurers guild, and that someone hopefully has seen you there.
And luck was on his side this time, as some other members told him about how you have constantly been taking commission after commission for the past few days.
Feeling his worries for you rise again, he went to the locations given to him, hoping to find you there.
About an hour or so later, he spotted you at the location of the third commission you took, standing next to a defeated ruin drake while facing another one head on.
He had half a mind to rush over and take care of it for you, but something in him told him to let you handle it yourself. So he watched with bated breath as you easily took care of the machine, letting it fall to the ground while you remained completely unharmed.
That's when he really realized what his words might have caused for you. You are by no means a sheltered human, you're capable of defending yourself, and very well so.
As you were checking the defeated drakes for useful stuff, he came out of his 'hiding spot', walking directly to you. You noticed him approaching but chose to ignore him still. In fact, you've noticed his presence in the middle of the fight, but decided not to call him out and see what he would do.
When he arrived, he just stood next to you in silence for a while, watching you. But when you still wouldn't acknowledge him, he decided to speak up.
"(Name)... I... I'm sorry..", he mumbled quietly. He felt embarrassed, not used to acting like the bigger person, but he was in the wrong here, so he had to do this, no matter what.
The words out of Kuni's mouth caught you by surprise, your head swirling around to look at him, finally.
Kunikuzushi didn't know what else to say right now, so he stayed silent, hoping you would understand how difficult this was for him right now.
"..I'm not weak.", you answered him quietly as well, fully facing him now, but your posture and tone seemed a bit more open and calmer now.
"..I know."
He may not be the best with words, but somehow, you always understood what he wanted to say, anyways. It has always been this way between you. It was one of the many things he loved so much about you.
And that's how it was this time, too. He quietly thanked the Gods when he pulled you into his arms again, holding you for the first time in what had felt like an eternity.
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planete777 · 5 months
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ONE TOO MANY・⁠。♪ LN4
( lando norris x fem!reader )
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IN WHICH. when one more orgasm is one too many (based on this ask)
WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI!, p in v sex, high hotness (although not as pertinent, could really be read as sober sex tbh), unintentional overstimulation, a bit of crying, lando is a sweetheart
NOTE. pretty short, would probably be more of a drabble. nothing much to say other than this is not my best work but enjoy! credits to @benkeibear for the dividers.
SIDENOTE. my askbox is open! feel free to send in any thoughts, scenarios, requests etc for lando 🤍
‧₊˚✩彡 taglist @laciijane @ferrarrigirl @norrizzandpia (use askbox above if you'd like to be added!)
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y/n feels lando everywhere, in places where she cannot ever fathom the tingles of pleasure reaching, and it succumbs her mind to a state of tattered mesh. the margin between euphoria and pain chips away in grand chunks, red swiftly dissolving in green and all ability to think dwindles.
usually, she's one to favour a bit of overstimulation, hence why lando currently slams his hips into hers, cock jabbing her cervix incessantly just succeeding 2 consecutive orgasms. yet, partnered with the fact that she's high out of her mind (leading to heavily amplified sensations) and how she already had her own fun before lando came home (and, by proxy, got high and excessively horny) meant that her body was on the verge of crying out in it all just exceeding the usual threshold.
she can feel her body shaking, head nudging the headboard with every thrust lando bestows, and it's like she's bouncing on hot lava: seconds of pure relief, startled by white heat.
there's barely any transition between the build up and her orgasm, the wave of aching pleasure crashing upon her in the blink of an eye, and her back arches completely off the bed.
"fuck fuck fuckkk-"
"yeah, that's it, baby," lando groans as he continues to snap his hips into her ass, "you're doing so well for me."
he's not stopping, and y/n can't blame him because it's quintessential that they go for longer. then lando's pace quickens and his dick seems to fly in and out of her that she can't answer what he asks.
"you can give me another, can't you?"
she wants to shake her head, but she's completely unmoving. her moans turn into silent, drunken puffs, eyes fused tightly shut as she digs her nails into the flesh of lando's muscular back. paradoxically, everything feels like nothing at all, and simultaneously, too much and her mouth flies open desperately in sobs and words as hands push into lando's sides to get him off.
"red! fuck— red, lando!"
it's with neck snapping velocity that he sheaths out of her, broken out of his high daze so rapidly that he feels disoriented. their safeword has never been used before, and now that it has, he feels like crying.
"shit, baby, i'm sorry," he presses kisses into her chest and face, concern multiplying when her sobs don't stop, "are you okay? what's wrong?"
"just too much today, sorry," she shifts to straighten out her leg but it jostles her throbbing cunt, making her wince. lando's frown deepens; it's not usually this painful for her.
"nothing to be sorry for, love," another peck is stuck on her lips, "let me get you a towel."
her throat clogs up, too enervated and satiated to reply, so she hums affirmatively instead. the bed dips and, with hooded eyes, she watches as he makes his way to the en suite, hears a few seconds of shuffling before the creak of tap and gushing water.
lando resurfaces seconds later, gently opening her legs before wiping her down. every touch heightens tenfold, and she pushes his hands away after a couple of swatches.
lando's eyebrows stay furrowed, "y/n, you should've stopped me earlier-"
"it's fine, lan'," she stretches an arm to pull him in, "just wanna cuddle now."
he follows, tucking her body into his front as he kissed the side of her neck.
"i'll run you a bath after," lando weaves his fingers through hers, "sound good?"
finally, in a state of bliss, y/n softly smiles, pulling their braided hands up to land a peck onto lando's skin.
"yeah, love, sounds perfect."
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