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generalsmemories · 1 year

Note

hiii for your event (CONGRATS BY THE WAY!!!) I'd like to request

"hey, no crying... I thought we said we wouldn't cry" with jing yuan please and thank you

Warmth of the living

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ prompts used: "hey, no crying... I thought we said we wouldn't cry" || 1k event

✧ content: established relationship, hurt/comfort, spoilers for xianzhou storyline, we are still stuck in the jing yuan recovery era after phantylia fight

✧ a/n: istg if this man goes into the next patch half beat up and ready to intervene i'm actually sentencing him to a house arrest cause GODDAMN. in a way this can be seen as an alt version of my other fic 48 hours tbh. i just can't imagine any other scenario where that sentence specifically is used by itself than the recent events - so sorry for the same sorta events, i'll make sure it's the last one though!

NOT BETA-READ CAUSE I LITERALLY WROTE THIS ALL IN 30 MINUTES THE MOMENT I GOT SOME MOTIVATION FOR IT HAHA

"Lady Bailu is taking care of him as we speak, [Name]. Please excercise some patience and believe in her - she's not titled the best healer of Luofu for no reason," Fu Xuan tries to comfort as you pace back and forth at the Seat of Divine Foresight - a hand massaging her temples as she looks towards the mountains of unopened scrolls needing to be read through within the day, "... If it helps, I've also foreseen that he won't be in any immediate danger. He's fine and he's going to recover."

That diviner noticed that her assurance seemed to ease you to the point you let out a long shaky exhale before sitting down at one of the steps leading to the grand desk, combing a hand through your hair for the nth time, "You haven't rested either with helping both me and Qingzu arrange documents and various meetings with the Six Charioteers. Why don't you try to take a walk outside the Exalting Sanctum?" Fu Xuan suggests, but you merely shake your head with a chuckle.

"If I leave you'll be more overwhelmed than you already are. Qingzu is even starting to pity you, lady Fu Xuan," you start, taking a deep breath in before standing up again, "Besides, if I leave the Seat, I just know I'll go running to where he is, I don't think that would help any of us now, would it?" you say with a light-hearted chuckle.

Fu Xuan didn't comment on the fact that your voice was trembling slightly as you spoke.

You can visit the general now. Please bring me some tuskir wraps, I'm hungry.

The message was sent as you had just placed a plate of food in front of Yanqing, almost dropping the contents entirely over the table if the young lieutenant didn't notice the grip you had on it falter and catching it in time, "Woah- [Name] I was looking forward to eating your food today! What would I do if you just suddenly do something like... that..." Yanqing's words died down when he saw your widened eyes, but a quick look at the sender of the message made him let out a relived sigh, only leaning back and picking up his chopsticks, "Why not visit the general instead of staring at your screen like that? It's not like you will be able to be able to teleport yourself to his location by doing that."

Yanqing's words made you snap out of your surprise, rushing towards the entrance, "Lock up after me! And give-"

"Mimi her food, I know! Just go!"

You knew that your worry was not needed. You knew that no matter how much you worried and that no matter how many times you wished for things to go differently that day that none of it would happen, "What happens and what has happened will inevitably stay like that no matter how much you try to alter it. And if my life can ensure that the rest of Luofu can stay safe then that is ultimately the best outcome in the long run, don't you agree, dear?" is what Jing Yuan had told you after the both of you had gone through his initial plan to handle the crisis.

You knew that he was right, which was why you bit your tongue and confirmed his plan. As the general of Luofu and as an official handling the lives of the people - you both knew that his plan, although reckless would yield the best results instead of sacrificing lives where it was not needed.

You knew.

But as you stand before him in person and get a thorough look at him you can't help but wish things had gone differently that day when he came to you with a final plan - a final play.

You wished that you had let your selfish mind overtake your logical mind for a second and beg him to come up with something else. Anything that didn't involve setting himself in danger.

But you didn't, and now you're seeing the very consequences of not doing so in front of you.

His skin is paler than usual, there's bandages wrapped around his torso, his forearms and even a few of his fingers. The usual spark in his eyes are dimmed slighty. There's an air of exhaustion around him, like he's trying his best to stay awake even though he desperately wants to sleep, but his smile is still the same.

The same reassuring, convinning and gentle smile he gives you when you greet him at the Seat of Divine Foresight, when you return home after work and he's home before you and when you run into each other on the streets of Luofu. And yet you can't find yourself to smile back, your fingers tightly twisting the material of your garments while you struggle to let out a word, a sound or anything at all to even try to match his own effort to reach out to you.

But you can't, you can't bring yourself to speak, and every time you open your mouth you can only make a tiny sound that sounds like a wheeze. But before you can try to recollect yourself, your eyes widen when Jing Yuan forces himself to sit in an upright position, snapping back to reality when you hear his quiet grunt of pain.

However you're not able to tell him to lay back down again (as Bailu had instructed he does) before he grabs a hold of your hands and pulls you into his arms with quiet coos and a low chuckle, "No crying... I thought we said we wouldn't cry over things like this?" he whispers, pulling slightly back to instead cup your cheeks, thumbs caressing the few tears that had managed to fall down from your eyes with a gentle gaze.

It tears you utterly apart how your wellbeing is still his priority than his own recovery.

"That... was a different... situation," you manage to squeeze out, bringing your hands up to rub the tears away yourself.

You didn't know when the tears began to form, nor when they began to fall.

"I know I'll lose you one day to the mara, as much as you're aware that you might lose me to it as well - and that's what we promised not to cry over! We never agreed to this sort of situation!" you croak out, trying your best to stop the tears from flowing. You know it's a silly comparison - Jing Yuan would much rather die out in the battlefield protecting the Luofu and the alliance than fall victim to the curse. You know, but your selfish self won't accept that outcome - even though you know such an outcome is the best for the general of Luofu.

"I agreed to this plan of yours, yes. I also agreed knowing that you're essentially putting your own life at risk yes, but still!" you sob, raising a closed fist to lightly beat down on his already battered body, "Knowing that you still came back safe just made every possible scenario of things that could go wrong and knowing they didn't and that you're here right now- scolding me of all things for crying in relief just makes this seem more surreal so you out of everyone can't fault me for actually crying because I was preparing a starskiff for the soul-soothing ceremony in the background for aeons sake," you rasp out, ending the whole rant with a saddened chuckle.

Jing Yuan merely laughs in return, one arm wrapping around your waist while his free hand pushes your head into his chest while gently patting your head, his body shaking with his soft chuckles when he feels your tears wet his garments again, "I'm fine dear, I just need to be in bedrest for a while. I'm not leaving anytime soon, so stop those tears, okay? You know I can't handle it when you cry," he whispers, bending his head down slightly to kiss the crown of your head softly.

"Just let me cry this one out, I don't think I've cried for a good couple of years," you murmur, burying yourself further into his chest, the arms you have wrapped around him squeezing a tiny bit - making Jing Yuan let out a small yelp of surprise from the force.

He's warm, you notice. His heart is beating and you can feel his chest rise up and down with every breath he takes. You can feel his fingers run through your head, you can hear the his nonchalant commets of his observations of the room in the commission amidst the otherwise silent room. And you can feel his whole body when he shuffles a bit to rest his back to the wall while he himself tries to squeeze you a bit tighter to reassure you.

Everything indicating that he's alive for another day.

And only after that do you finally feel like you can breathe again.

another request that had the same scenario in it!

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail imagines #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr imagines #star rail x reader #star rail imagines #star rail x you #jing yuan x reader #generalsmemories 1k event

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its-all-stardust · 2 months

Text

Sugar || 9

Masterlist || Part Eight

Steven Grant/Sugar Mommy!Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Series Summary: You meet Steven in a museum gift shop and feel an instant connection. Before you walk out the door you decide, perhaps against your better judgment, that you need him to be your sugar baby. Now you just need him to let you treat him right.

Note: this chapter is very late and fairly short. tbh i could have added a lot more, but seeing as it's been 2 months since the last chapter, i wanted to get something out. But I am still working on this fic!! I'm going to finish it i swear, so please please yell at me to get my ass moving!!

When you called the next day, Steven didn’t answer. You waffled about whether to leave a voicemail and ultimately decided not to—not on that call, anyway.

On the second call, later that day, Steven still didn’t answer. That time, you left a message asking if he was feeling better and asking him to please call you back.

He didn’t. There wasn’t even a response when you sent his payment for going with you to the auction, something entirely unlike him.

By the third call, another day later, you were afraid of once again being too much, too needy. Yet you left another message anyway. You tried to keep it professional, not wanting to let on how upset you were.

“Steven, I still haven’t heard from you. I was just checking in. If there’s an issue with our business arrangement, please let me know as soon as possible.”

You wonder if he’s sleepwalking again or whatever disorder is causing him to blackout. Perhaps it’s like that first time, and Steven will come back confused but well and whole. You try to tell yourself that’s what’s happening now, trying to remain positive.

But, of course, the worry still creeps in.

What if he’s lost?

What if he’s hurt?

Should you call someone and report him missing? Is he missing?

There’s a chance you could be taken seriously, but you also know you could be seen as a psycho jilted ex-lover.

You contemplate the merits of hiring a private investigator or going to Steven’s apartment yourself to see if he’s there.

You can’t go in, you don’t have a key, but you could knock. Maybe even ask his neighbors if they know anything.

You simultaneously try to convince yourself that nothing is wrong and something is.

If something has gone wrong, he needs you, and you can’t get to him. If it hasn’t, then he’s purposefully avoiding you for whatever reason.

You remind yourself you shouldn’t feel this way. Shouldn’t feel so attached.

By Sunday evening, you’re a bit of a mess. If you bit your nails, they’d be gone by now. Instead, your anxiety manifested outward. Your apartment is both chaos and order.

You went on a bit of a cleaning spree. Normally, once a month, you hire someone to come deep clean your home, moving furniture and putting in more elbow grease than you typically care to. These last few days, though, you attempted to take matters into your own hands. And while you were already cleaning, you figured you might as well sort through your cabinets, closets and shelves to see if there is anything you no longer feel the need to hold on to.

As a result, the bathrooms and Steven’s bedroom are spotless. The living room and the kitchen have been destroyed. Only your bedroom is untouched, but that’s only because you got distracted after going through the walk-in closet.

You would have kept going until something in you snapped, or everything was back in order if only the hunger pangs weren’t so distracting. It was a blessing in disguise that your nerves never seemed to affect your appetite.

You’re at your kitchen table, barely tasting whatever leftovers you had in the fridge and staring off into the middle distance when your phone rings.

At first, the sound doesn’t register, drowned out by the constant static filling your head the last few days. But then you realize what it is and lunge toward the counter where you left your phone.

Your heart stops when Steven’s name flashes on the screen. You don’t have to think before pressing the phone to your ear a second later.

“Please tell me it’s still Friday,” Steven blurts as soon as you answer. “Or even Saturday, and I got really drunk on champagne last night.”

Relief fills you, but it’s quickly overshadowed by worry.

“Baby, it’s Sunday,” you tell him gently, sinking back into your chair at the table.

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Steven says, dejected.

For the past few days, you had thought, perhaps, that Steven was going to end your relationship. That he no longer wanted to be your sugar baby and didn’t know how to tell you. But his losing time, unable to recall anything during his blackouts, is much more frightening.

“It’s like I’m losing my mind,” Steven continues. “First, I’m losing days, and now Gus regrew a fin.”

That catches your attention. “Gus what?”

You distinctly remember Steven talking about his pet goldfish only having one fin. “Goldfish don’t regrow body parts, Steven.”

“Well, it’s either that or someone broke into my flat, stole Gus, and replaced him with an imposter,” Steven says, his voice bordering on joking and hysterical.

As ridiculous as it sounds…

“You’re sure you don’t remember doing any goldfish shopping?” you ask feebly. Someone replaced Gus after who knows what happened to him, and the most likely culprit would be Steven himself. Not that any attempts at regaining blackout memories have proven fruitful, nor is there an obvious explanation as to why he would do that in the first place.

“Not that, at least,” Steven answers quietly.

“You remember something?” you ask quickly, excited. Whatever it is, it might help you both figure out what’s happening.

“There’s…something alright.” He’s hesitant, like he isn’t sure what to tell you. Perhaps afraid you’ll think him crazy or maybe be disturbed by what he does remember.

“Can I…come over?” Any confidence Steven had around you seems to have been washed away by whatever happened while he was gone. In its place is the same uneasy timidity he had when you first began your relationship when he wasn’t sure what he could and couldn’t do.

“Steven, you never have to ask.”

When he walks through the door, Steven goes straight for your embrace, desperately, it seems, needing your arms around him. He breathes a sigh of relief, melting into you.

You don’t say anything and simply enjoy the feeling of Steven in your arms again. Before, you could survive a few days without him next to you. Now, you can’t imagine letting him out of your sight.

You don’t know when that change happened.

“Do you need anything?” you finally ask, your voice breathless. A mixture of relief and Steven squeezing you a little too tightly—not that you’re complaining.

“Just you,” Steven mumbles, his face buried in your neck. A pleasant heat fills you.

The two of you stand there for a moment longer, tangled up in each other, relishing in the comfort. You want to move to the couch to hold Steven properly but don’t want to be the first to let go. You don’t want Steven to think for even one second that you’re abandoning him in any way.

Steven shifts, lifting his head, and presses his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.

“At least I know you’re real,” he mutters more to himself than to you.

You have no idea what that means. It’s likely a part of what he has to tell you about the last few days.

“What happened?” you ask softly, prompting him.

Finally, Steven stands up straight, his arms loosening around you but not completely letting go.

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Then, with a slight shake of his head, he says, “I don’t even know where to start.”

With your hands on his arm, you lead Steven to the couch. “May I?” you ask, and with Steven’s nod, you continue. “Let’s start with the auction. You seemed fine at first, but something happened to you.”

Steven’s brow furrows in concentration, trying to remember what happened just a few short days ago.

“I remember going. We met your friend, but then…” He shakes his head. “It’s blank. Part of me didn’t feel right, but… I don’t know how to describe it. One second was with you, and the next, I was dreaming or something before waking up in my bed.”

Steven’s eyes widen, apparently realizing something. “Oh God, I didn’t just leave you there, did I?” he quickly asks, eyes searching yours.

“You didn’t,” you assure him. Even though Steven has the right to walk out on your arrangement anytime he wants, aside from your assumptions after the auction, he’s never shown any sign of wanting to do so. “You had me take you home, though. Do you remember that?”

Steven shakes his head. “When did that happen?”

The best place, you decide, is the beginning. Instead of guessing at what Steven doesn’t remember, you replay the whole night for him—even the parts he’s already mentioned himself.

“I thought you didn’t like being there. Maybe you were bored, or the crowd was too much for you. You got so quiet. And then you asked me to take you home.”

“I don’t…feel like myself.”

You weren’t sure what he meant at the time, but now it makes sense that that was when Steven’s memory started going blank.

“I don’t remember that,” Steven says softly. “Did something happen afterward? When did I leave?”

“Leave?” you repeat, slightly confused.

Steven continues, not hearing you. “Did I say where I was going? Or…or did I sleep in the spare room?”

That’s when you realize that Steven didn’t think of his apartment when you said you took him home. He thought you meant yours.

“Steven,” you say, interrupting him before he could keep trying to fill in the blanks himself. “I didn’t bring you back here. You had me take you to your apartment. Something about you needing to be there.”

Steven’s face scrunches up in confusion as if that course of action doesn’t make sense to him. He goes silent, and you let him think.

You want to ask about what he said that night, what it could have meant. What it was about himself he couldn’t tell you.

But you don’t. He didn’t want to talk about it then, and there’s a reason he wouldn’t know what you were talking about if you did.

An eerie feeling washes over you. At the time, you knew something was wrong, but looking back now and realizing that something inside Steven had changed, and he was no longer remembering what he was doing leaves you unsettled.

Whatever is happening to him, you need to help figure it out. The problem is, as far as any doctor could tell, it wasn’t anything physical, nothing that left an outward sign of its presence, leaving you at a loss.

“I followed you in,” you tell Steven, needing to say something about what happened in his apartment. “Pretty sure you didn’t want me to. You kind of…ran, but I needed to know you were okay.”

“Well, now I know something was definitely wrong with me. I would never run from you if I were in my right mind,” Steven tries to joke, but it comes out weak, without much feeling behind it.

It’s nice to hear nonetheless, especially with how this whole ordeal had left you feeling.

“I didn’t stay long,” you continue, no longer meeting Steven’s eye and instead turning your attention to your still interlocked hands. “It didn’t seem like you wanted me there.”

It was Steven, yet not Steven, sitting awkwardly at the table as you made him tea. Though he didn’t seem to hate you, he was clearly uneasy with you being in his space. Your heart pangs in your chest.

Before you can stop yourself, before you can even think, words spill from your lips.

“And then you wouldn’t answer my calls. Now I know why, but I thought I had done something, and maybe you didn’t want me anymore.”

Steven’s breath catches.

No, no, no, you weren’t supposed to say it like that. You should have practiced the words beforehand.

You lo-like Steven, but your relationship doesn’t have room for that. You’re in this position specifically, so you don’t get caught up in feelings. You don’t want them. They’re messy and complicated and leave you hurt more often than not. You pay people to avoid feelings, and it’s always worked so well.

Until Steven.

It shouldn’t matter if he wants you, whatever that entails. As long as he’s happy to accept your money for his services, you should be content.

The last thing you want is to pressure Steven into anything, which means keeping any and all ill-advised emotions to yourself.

You don’t want this relationship to end; admitting anything is a surefire way of making that happen.

“I thought you didn’t want to be my baby anymore,” you correct. Your first admission is true, but it’s best if Steven thinks this is what you meant, and you can pretend it doesn’t sound just as desperate.

Steven squeezes your hand and doesn’t release the pressure, making you meet his gaze.

“When I woke up, I saw you had called,” he starts, his voice quiet, eyes intently looking into yours. “I was so scared, I didn’t listen to them. I just needed to call you. See you.” He takes a shaky breath. “And…I think I’ve known for a while, really, but I realized something just now.”

Your brow furrows, wondering what he’s thinking.

“I have…so much I still need to tell you, but I think I need to say this now.” He starts talking faster as if he thinks if he doesn’t get the words out quickly enough, they won’t come out at all. Then, in a rush, he says, “I don’t want to be your baby anymore.”

Your heart stops beating, and pain fills your chest.

“I’d rather be your boyfriend.”

Taglist:

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@multific @uncle-eggy @kezibear @local-mr-frog

@peachyrue-777 @kpopslur @thewinterv @buffkirby2020 @mynamesstevenwithav

@lumpatto @apesarecuul @howellatme @kult6 @sadslasher13

@homuraak3mi @moonysgal

@blackholegladiator @mercurysjoy @spktrgantenk @khadineberry @undf-stuff

@pokepuffle @meowmeowyoongles @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @animechick555

#moon knight x reader #steven grant x reader #matt murdock x reader #moon knight fanfic #x reader #sugar series

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jjoongstar · 2 months

Text

❝LOLA'S LIBRARY❞✰.｡.✵°✵,¸.•✵´

my personal list of all of my fav fics that i really love and would like to reread again for fun. i'll always continue to add more on this list. NONE OF THESE WOKRS ARE MINE!!!

smut🔥| fluff ☁️| angst 💧| most fav & highly rec❤️‍🔥

★¸.•☆•.¸★ ATEEZ ★⡀.•☆•.★

love you goodbye 🔥💧[psh] breakup sex, i legit cried

intertwined☁️[psh] mermaid y/n, siren seonghwa

sleep talker🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[psh] enemies to lovers, one bed trope, vacation au, love the tension & plot

royal library🔥☁️[psh] royalty au, plot twist, legit ult fav, mak lurve giler

(not so) sweet dream☁️[psh] very fluffy, snuggling hihihshs

Red Dress🔥☁️[psh] enemies to lovers, amazing plot

You Come First🔥☁️[psh] drug dealer, dom!hwa went too far, y/n used safe word

Make Me Water🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[psh] friends to lovers, lots of giggling

prefect and t(h)reats🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[psh] harry potter au, slytherin hwa x hufflepuff y/n

I Know It's Over☁️💧❤️‍🔥[psh] historical au, tragic ending, cliche storyline but i cried anyways

The General's Wife☁️❤️‍🔥[psh] possessive military general husband hwa

The Way To His Heart (series)☁️💧❤️‍🔥[psh] joseon era, general sh, arranged marriage, amazing plot, scrumptious storyline, sngt lurve gilerr frr

She's a regular here... (pt.1)🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[psh] drug dealer, legit fav, trilogy

Use me like a drug! (pt.2)🔥☁️[psh]

Baby we're high on you. (pt.3)🔥☁️[psh, khj]

opposite attracts🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[psh,khj] addams!matz, love the plot

One Day At A Time☁️💧[psh, jyh] royal au, most heartbreaking fic ever, i legit cried ffs, there's comfort at the end

mafia☁️[khj, jwy] mafia au, love the part where she slept on hj's bed

pretty🔥[khj] pure steamy smut, no plot

training wheels🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[khj] prof hj x student y/n, taught her how to suck his cock, ft. woo

Ugh, As If🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[khj] ult fav, y/n has insomnia & he helped her , sngt lurve yurr

Loyalties☁️[khj] criminal hj x detective y/n, love the chemistry, had me giggling, kinda reminds me of sanzu

Dreamy (series)🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[khj] dilf hj, bestie sh's daughter, legit ult fav ever, literally drooling, i love this sm istg, the best one ever, they finally fuck at pt. 6

5:04 am☁️[smg] he help lulled her to sleep

just between friends🔥❤️‍🔥[smg, jyh] pure filthy smut, love all the consents

principia (pt.1)🔥☁️[jyh] prof yuyu x student y/n, got my heartbeat racing

opticks (pt.2)🔥☁️[jyh]

Teacher's Pet🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[jyh] college au, prof yuyu x student y/n, heavy angst (my heart ached sm, i legit cried), "it reopened wounds it never healed", (will reread when i feel like hurting myself again)

outlaw🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[jyh] cowboy yuyu x bartender y/n, amazing plot

cry for me🔥[jyh] pure smut, crying kink, aftercare

whichever way🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[jwy, cs] threesome, has plot, amazing chemistry, kinky

Hardcore🔥☁️💧❤️‍🔥[cjh] teacher jh x student y/n, heartbreaking frr, "you like me...but you love her-", the other women

oh shit, are we in love?🔥☁️[cjh] romcom, college au, bestie to lovers, virgin jh

Ateez Reactions: When You Use Safeword🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[ot8] tbh, idk how to desc this cuz i like seeing them immediately changed from rough & full in lust to soft & concerned

boyfriend!ateez discovering you write smut☁️[ot8] fake text, they're just so funny i giggles too much & accidently banged my head on the wall

★¸.•☆•.¸★ SEVENTEEN ★⡀.•☆•.★

emails i can't send💧[ot13] istg its so devastatingly heartbreaking, highly rec to read during the bloody season

step by step☁️[jww] softie but they were talking bout sex tho

the wolf and the fox☁️[kmg] spy au, the tension btwn the two tho

★¸.•☆•.¸★ P1HARMONY ★⡀.•☆•.★

cinnamon banana pancakes☁️[keeho] soft, fluffy, making breakfast

★¸.•☆•.¸★ OTHERS ★⡀.•☆•.★

idk which category these should go, so i'll place them here:

the better man🔥☁️[san, mingyu] threesome, college au, they fight for y/n

seeing double🔥☁️❤️‍🔥[seonghwa, wonbin] college au, red flag fwb hwa, soft shy wonbin

dividers are by @roseraris

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luffyvace · 5 months

Text

Vinsmoke Sanji x male reader

Wano Sanji>> 😍🧑‍🍳💋

I won’t tolerate any hate for me writing Sanji x a male reader if you don’t like it block me :)

Sanji loving a male has two possibilities of how it happened: A) an au where he’s bi or smth or B) he loved women until you. Now he respects women and loves you!

let’s go with B for the sake of making you feel as special as you are 😉👌

honestly from here you can basically just read any Sanji headcanons and know what your relationship is like so I’m not gonna repeat the traditional sanji things 😅 but from now on male reader will be heavily implied/mentioned :3 💗

Sanji as a boyfriend is a great punching bag if you have anger issues and sparring partner! 😁 if your a hot headed person he’ll let you punch him as many times as you want til you get all your emotions out. He knows what it’s like to bottle it up and he’s rather have you take it out on him then implode it on yourself. Now, others he doesn’t care about unless they’re a woman. Will still side with you tho

”hey watch where your going!”

- you

”excuse me??”

- random woman

”please excuse us, my lady, my lovely boyfriend~ (😍) is trying to get through”

- Simpji

Sanji is really strong so as a sparring partner he’s great! You can tell him to stop holding back as much as you want but you can’t rely on him for that. 😊 He would rather just be used as a punching bag honestly, he doesn’t wanna hurt you!! 😓 Will be 00.1% less lenient if your strong like the monster trio buuuut not a big difference. He’s not underestimating you at all! You can tell by his constant praises on how strong you are- but he just doesn’t wanna hurt his DAAAARLING FUTURE HUSBAND~ (😍)

if your weaker, he insists you won’t have to train much because he’ll always protect you. Just like he has the instincts to detect a woman’s tears, he now has the ability to tell if you need help! His heart will clench and his stomach will twist before he darts off to find you without a word (despite worrying your crew-)

Will spar with you if your really serious about getting stronger to help protect you and your crewmates. But he might suggest you get a weapon built by Usopp (or Franky) first.

”MY LOVELY BOYFRIEND IS SO KIND~ HE WANTS TO GET STRONGER TO PROTECT EVERYONE!~~ The rest of you jerks better be grateful!! 😤 -not you! Nami-San! Robin-Chwan!”

No matter your body type Sanji will dote on you! 😘 ABS⁉️ AN ALL OUT NOSE BLEED!! YOUR SO HANDSOME HE JUST MIGHT PASS OU- 😴 A dad bod?? 😍😍 AWOOGA~ Sounds sensual and sultry to him 💋💋 On the chubbier side? STILL HOT!! Mwah! Come over here sugar lips 😜

- his words not mine 😚

his dates can vary from really romantic to more casual, depends on what type of guy you are. If your in tune with your emotions like him you guys’ll probably seem a lot more cheesy- IN A GOOD WAY‼️💗 Otherwise, if distant or just put up a front, etc then he’ll tone it down. His side of the party will still be uh, not necessarily dramatic but dramatic, on the other hand. What I mean by that is he’s still a simp but your dates won’t be so cliche, at the least. More so activities like festivals, carnivals, roller skating, all that good stuff!

of course he can always arrange a time on the merry/sunny for a food date where he cooks all your favs!…one prob tho..Luffy. 🤦‍♀️ Actually, a good time to get away with a dinner date is when Luffy’s not around! And by that I’m talking when he’s on an island exploring and Sanji tells the others to go on ahead, leaving you two alone on the ship! 😁👍

Sanji thinks your so cool when you fight tbh. It doesn’t matter how strong or weak you are, you’ll always look tough while fighting 💪 If your weak he’s got your back!! Of course, likewise if your strong, but he worries 0.1% less if you are. He will forever be concerned about his boyfriend’s well being 🤷‍♀️ At the very least he knows you could handle yourself on your own if there’s a 0% chance that he can’t come to your aid. (He will always show up for you 🙏)

The op men seem to be more annoyed with Sanji’s simp behavior so if that’s you….it still won’t change anything…feel free to kick him tho! He’ll let you 😘 He has a nose bleed after too (not only cuz you kicked him but bc you looked hot while doing so 😍) Yeah the grind never stops, and that’s on simping 😜👍

Will let you call him any nickname! Or insult- you could practically hate him and he’d still be your loyal lap dog 🐩 Bro is down on his knees down bad 😭🙏 ‘Even when he calls me crude cook~ HE’S STILL THE MOST GLORIOUS MAN IN THE WORLD!~ 😻” If your pet/nicknames are more romantic or loving it’ll give him an even worse nose bleed for sure. He gets butterflies either way- of course. 😂

If you were to ever get hurt he’s going to quite literally hurl his boot at their face, and I’m not implying he takes his shoe off. Naturally, this outcome only happens with a man. If a woman is beating you he will prioritize your safety and run away with you. Or distract her so you can get Nami or Robin.

⚠️Skip if you haven’t watched Whole Cake arc⚠️

(Now, for a head’s up idk how Sanji’s fam works bc I’m not on whole cake yet-) Sanji’s family will likely diss him even further for being a man who likes other men. Reiju might support him- but his father will be utterly disappointed! ‘Now he can’t even marry a women to strengthen they’re bloodline!’ (Sanji’s dad<< 🙄) But don’t worry ik for a fact his super awesome boyfriend came through to save the day 🦸

(Back to regual hcs, mini Whole Cake spoiler over 👍)

This hc right here kinda gn but he will give you the biggest, happiest, silliest smile ever if you compliment his eyebrows. Or at least say they don’t look silly/you like them. IK he’s not necessarily insecure of the look overall but bc his doesn’t look like his family’s eyebrows, but it still makes him feel better about it ❤️‍🩹

so yeah please do compliment him on it 💗

I don’t really like to talk about who’s the “dom” in the relationship but I’m gonna mention it just this once and hear me out‼️

He’d be so flustered if you were!! Like?? Your taking care of him?? Being protective over him?? 😻🙏 AWOOGA- 💥 (he passed out) You could practically demand anything from him anyway but imagine him having a nose bleed all down his face as he stutters out a “yes sir” and immediately gets on the job 🙌 Bonus points if you have a deep voice 🤷‍♀️ (Not even in a suggestive way, btw, just genuinely having rizz 🤪🙏)

Or maybe he’s the “dom” He’d be so happy to take care and protect you, as he always is. But this time he cranks up his flirting game x200. Like he’s actually trying and not just using simp, servant, slave rizz (LOL- 😂)

Think about him leaning in real close to your ear, lowering his voice, before saying “I’ve cooked you a meal 😏” (or smth I ain’t the rizz master-)

You get my point! Case closed ok? Point is he’d be a lot more smooth than a simp. Ya got me? Good.

Edit: I added more! ψ(｀∇´)ψ

Reqs officially back open!! Now I’m just gonna freelance and write from my list

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n0tamused · 3 months

Note

Came across House of Dragons and kinda got invested then I saw you accept Jiyan requests so now I’m kinda thinking what a mixture of the two would be like….Jiyan with his own dragon riding in Westeros…Jiyan courting you despite protests from his court…Jiyan protecting his queen from anyone that tries to hurt her or his heirs…idk I am just a causal watcher I have no clue what’s actually going on in GoT and HoD tbh

A/n: I'm uploading this from my phone because I just can't wait to post this, so if there's formatting or grammar errors - rest assured, I'll do my best to get to it once I get on my laptop. Where do I begin though? 😭 My goodness, you couldn't have sent me a better idea than this one oml. I'm smooching you on the head istg, thank you so much for this request! And I hope you enjoy this jumbled ramble <3 I'd love to do more of this little au and I most definitely will, and for some other characters as well.

Contents: Jiyan x Reader, headcanons, you/yours, written with a F! Reader in mind, dragonrider reader and Jiyan, Game of Thrones/House of The Dragon universe, pregnancy, angst, happy ending, somewhat arranged marriage lol, tell me if there's anything else to tag.

-War had taken many noble houses to an early grave, leaving behind nothing but ghosts and ruin over the vast lands. The ones that remained standing were either the rich or the cruel. All except one.

-Jiyan, originally hailing from Jinzhou, and belonging to no noble or rich lineage. His mother was a notorious healer, and his father had long been lost to travels and war himself.

-He had joined the battles as a young green boy alongside his mother, moving beside the long columns of soldiers in their tattered armor and ringmail. All he could do was stare at them in wonder and question - Why do they spill so much blood? For what?

-There was no looming threat of the Others coming to claim their lives, it was just them - the people and the common folk, yet they fought each other like animals for a few extra inches of land or a few extra coppers in their liege lord's pocket.

-As much as Jiyan didn't wish to engage in the art of war and bloodshed and only wanted to heal and save, it became apparent, all too soon, that the way to survival and peace was through battle. Healing will get him nowhere, and if a good commander was not put at the front, it wouldn't matter how well he healed if two in three soldiers died, even after receiving his aid.

-The war changed him, hardened his heart and fortified his mind, until the healer he once was became only a distant memory. Spear replaced herbs, and instead of the tattered medic tunic he now donned armor and ringmail. A companion also joined his side after he ran into a deep cavern for safety during one particular battle. A large unclaimed dragon, which nearly took his head off now stood at his side like a mountain, guardian him day and night and heralding the doom of his enemies with a thunderous roar and loud snap of it's wings. The dragon was a beautiful pale green, with bronze horns and amber eyes with darker lines of green running over its back. It was a beauty as much as it was a beast. Men quickly took to respect him, and it became evident Jiyan’s person hid many talents besides that for medical aid and spear holding.

-The previous commander perished, another life taken by the savage ways of war, and Jiyan was appointed as the new commander by the soldiers after he rose to the occasion - having led them to success in war, as well as safety when the odds did not favor them.

-It was during his reign as the lead commander that the lands saw the end of the war. Blood was shed, yes, but not for naught.

-Upon his return to the central city, the throne was found vacant, the king slain along with his entire council. The word of it was that they were taken unawares from the seaside, and had no ways of defense, as all the manpower was at the front lines

-Jiyan came into his rule as king at a young age, far too soon, and yet despite all the doubt he had flourished quickly. Proving himself as an able and just ruler, unlike the ones that came before, his foundation as a commander giving him good wind in the back

-The city wasn't in good condition after the war, but in the years following Jiyan had sent many commands that would aid in its rebuilding

-Slowly, but surely, the common folk started to feel the dawn of a new age - summer has finally come.

-The one thing Jiyan has gladly forgotten about was marriage. As a king, it was expected of him to take a bride to be his queen, to have heirs and to start a new lineage that would, hopefully, carry better blood instead of the hot blood that sought destruction. It wasn't something he often thought about as other duties preoccupied him day in and day out. But it was neither something he was against.. Deep in his heart he would admit a thought of his own family did make him feel…alive. But how would that family fare in these conditions? With his status? This was nothing like his small village he grew up in, so the image he once had in his mind was no longer so clear.

-His mother was a person he'd eventually seek advice from regarding such tender subjects, earning himself a laugh occasionally, as his cluelessness was rather amusing. Where other Kings misused their power and gave commands as they saw fit, Jiyan exercised caution, and even sympathy for the bride he didn't even have yet.

-Eventually, a match was arranged, between him and a lady of a higher birth. His mother had met you before he did and vouched for your good character - but Jiyan remained nervous, vowing to keep his judgment and thoughts to himself until he met you himself.

-Your journey to the city was a long one, yet you entered the long and towering palace halls like a breath of fresh air. Keeping your lady wits about yourself and keeping your courtesies with you, you had quickly rubbed off on Jiyan. The wedding was still a matter of question, as Jiyan had insisted on giving you and your family the due time to explore the city and to see whether this was truly something they wanted to go through with. His compassion was answered in kind by many gifts sent from the city they hailed from, consisting of foreign fruits and vegetables to cattle and coins and silks.

-It was endearing. And the courtship between Jiyan and (Y/n) soon began, as the former began to make moves. He preferred to do so in some amounts of privacy, as the many eyes that followed him as King were uncomfortable and he swore he could never get used to them.

-This seemed to please and comfort his bride-to-be as well, and both of them would show their true colors. It was a rare thing for a royal match to be founded in love rather than simple responsibilities to make heirs, but it wasn't unheard of either.

-What they both had in common was that they were dragon riders. (Y/n)’s dragon was a stark comparison to his own with red scales and two pairs of black horns and dark amber eyes, the underside of the dragon’s wings being a shade of yellow that looked like gold under the sunlight. It was a terrifying dragon, arguably even more scary than his own mount.

-When no one was looking, the two would go down to the Dragon Pit and take their dragons to the skies, racing over the cities with one another or going over the seas to breathe the salty air. It was an escape from duty as well. The moment their dragons took to air, all status and responsibilities remained on the ground, and only the sky was the limit to their freedom.

-Jiyan relished in this freedom like a luxurious drink he could never tire of, and your laughter was a sound like no other.

-The dragons took to liking one another as well, and would dance in the air while the pair were seated on their backs, spinning and falling, and right before the ground came too close they'd pull away and take to the skies once more.

-The commonfolk took this as a good omen. The dragons ruled the skies again, and a good King was on the throne, with a good queen soon to join him.

-Jiyan would find himself inviting (Y/n) to his chambers in early mornings to break their fast together or late dinners to share their day with one another. It was as if the two were already married. And even that wasn't too far from coming true.

-The wedding was a big event. Tables and tents were set all the way out and around the keep as well as in the big ballroom inside. Although Jiyan would've preferred to keep the celebrations a modest one, the council insisted that this occasion warranted the eyes of everyone, the joy had to be shared. This once he gave in to their requests.

-Flower petals were thrown on them as they passed by the rows of commonfolk standing at the sides of the rode, him and his Queen riding at the back of an open carriage dragged by four horses, white and elegant with plumes in their manes. Everything was near perfect and out of a fairy tale.

-King and Queen would share their dance in the ballroom once they returned from the High Sept where they got married before the priest, sharing their first kiss - something Jiyan made sure to cover and hide to the best of his abilities by pulling your veil over both of your faces.

-The celebration lasted all the way into the eerie hours of the night. And both Jiyan and you were exhausted, and upon retiring to your shared bed chamber you simply collapsed onto the plush mattress.

-That night, Jiyan fell asleep with his lover in his arms, watching your soft breaths make your chest rise and fall in slow successions, his fingertips tracing the lines of your face and the skin of your back, until he couldn't resist the urge to sleep.

-This wasn't a life Jiyan asked for…but it was one he was glad for.

-Children came later. A lovely little daughter being the first to be born of the love from the King and Queen, bearing the signature feature of you. Jiyan was beyond happy.

-During the birth of his daughter he was in the city, conducting business over a new architecture project when news arrived that his Queen had gone into labor. It is believed he had never dropped a matter as quickly as he did that day, racing back to the keep and searching for his wife.

-Despite the protests of the midwives, he responded only to you, racing to your side and giving you comfort and encouragement if nothing else, welcoming the fruit of your shared love together. It was the first time Jiyan ever cried in front of anyone else. He had delegated some more of his duties to the others in favor of having the time to spend with his newborn and you, helping you recover from the birth.

-It wasn't rare to see Jiyan roaming the dark halls in the middle of the night to visit the kitchens for food for you, bringing back foods and snacks, whatever you wished, even the weird food cravings. Hell, sometimes he'd indulge in them alongside you. Once, during your first pregnancy you requested a big honeycomb, and it just happened Jiyan felt like a sweettooth that evening as well. That ended with you sharing quite a candid moment, lips sticky with honey with a waxy feel between your teeth as you tried not to laugh at one another.

-The second pregnancy was a boy, following two years after the daughter was born, and he came with a little more trouble. The new prince was quite a big baby, and the birth left you even more exhausted. A fever soon settled within you, greatly worrying Jiyan and the entire council. You could barely hold the boy to feed him without shaking, and the fever lasted for days.

-It was the scariest time of Jiyan’s life. Any moment spent away from you plunged a dagger into his heart that twisted itself further in. It pained him. And he nearly got sick himself from worry.

-There were maids around you constantly, when he couldn't assist you it was them that took care of you. His mother was close by as well, bringing you great herbal teas and green tea cakes and broths. The time for you was a blur, filled with uncomfortable heat of your body and sticky feelings of sweat.. does it ever end?

-It was as if the whe world was plunged into depression once you fell ill. Dark clouds corresponded with Jiyan’s bitter and grieving mood, and the dragons themselves were restless. In this time, the others, outside of his kingdom, saw it fit to attack and plunder the neighboring villages and cities.

-You had recovered enough to talk, but your days were still mostly spent by sleeping and eating.

-You could vaguely remember seeing Jiyan entering your chamber, holding your son for a short while before putting him back in his crib. A concerned look pinched his brows together, you could remember, as his gaze went to you.

- “My love?... Are you alright?” He'd ask as he kneeled by the side of your bed, taking your hand in both of his and kissing the knuckles that felt like they were ablaze underneath his lips. He was dressed in all armor, a sword at his hip. Why was he leaving?.. Where?

-It all seemed like a dream, an illusion borne from your illness, but it was real. He had a duty over the kingdom, and over you. Yet it pained him no less to leave the place he was closest to you. He had entrusted your care to his mother and the maids, and he had already bid farewell to your daughter. She had clung to him like a moss clings to a tree, asking him when he'd return.

-You couldn't give a reply, staring somewhere through him.

-Has the reign of peace perished so quickly?

-His dragon waited at the Dragonpits, and the troops were already marching out of the city gates when he took to fly over them, leading them to the front lines once more.

-You recovered in the following days, finding yourself alone - not literally, as there were maids and servants all flocking to you, but Jiyan wasn't there. His Hand sat the throne instead of him. And your children had grown significantly, as if years had passed instead of several days.

-Responsibilities choked you until you began to move, throwing yourself back into work and and duty. Your son was always at your hip or breast, making up for the time lost. And your daughter was always pulling at your skirts unless she was at her lessons.

-It was a restless period, and a terrifying one. The first letter you sent to Jiyan was met with an ecstatic response, him being overjoyed you were healthy again, yet he encouraged you to rest more.

-His other letters brought bitter news of losses and bloodshed and treason, but he reassured they were holding strong. You could only believe him.

-Months passed. Months. And a letter from Jiyan was yet to come in. It worried you. This everlasting silence, it was of more concern than the sorrowful letters.

-During one evening as you sat on one of the tall balconies of the palace, overlooking the city as your son cooed in your arms, you heard a shriek. One coming from your dragon in the Dragonpits. The dragon was as restless as you, her calls weren't foreign to hear, but this time her shriek was returned by a call of another.

-Your husband's dragon flew down from the murky clouds. The green dragon roared, splitting the sound mid air, earning another roar from your own dragon.

-Jiyan has returned.

-You’re unsure how you raced so quickly down to meet him, with a babe in your arms and not properly dressed either. Appearances didn't matter. Your husband's return did. He mattered.

-And once you saw one another, nothing else could hold you back from running into eachother’s arms, the baby carefully tucked between the two of you in a protective embrace as Jiyan kissed both of your heads, pressing his forehead against yours soon after, laughter shaking his shoulders and chest.

-He was sure he could cry right now, and seeing you shed tears of joy almost encouraged him.

-Jiyan knew he'd split the world in half if it meant keeping you whole and with him.

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mrzombielover · 2 years

Text

— könig relationship headcanons

rating; sfw and nsfw

warnings: nsfw, virginity, this is just filthy and not really edited and a spew of random disconnected thoughts

a/n; oh my actual god tysm for 1k+ likes on my ghost drabble i did NOT expect any attention so thank you😭

to get in a relationship with this guy you def had to make the first move, he’s too shy to do anything

(i’ll prob make separate headcanons w him pining over you tbh)

but once you ARE in a relationship? man

his severe social anxiety manifests in a way that just makes him really awkward. like🧍

clingiest boyfriend alive, mf like 6’10 250 lbs clinging to your arm when u go in public and asking you to order for him

doesn’t know what to do with himself when you’re not there. you leave and he just waits for you to come back.

he just loves you so much, he’s not stupid by all means but you’re the one that thinks for him and he’s happy w that arrangement

likes when you refer to him as big guy or esp YOUR big guy bc yes. he is a big guy. thanks for noticing :)

while he couldn’t be a sniper bc of his size, there are some perks to his height. namely scaring the ever loving fuck out of any guy he may be jealous of

he’s not vocal and much too shy to really do anything but he will stand over your shoulder vaguely threateningly glaring at the guy.

he’s incredibly easy to fluster, part of the reason he likes wearing a mask is because you won’t be able to see how easy it is to make him blush

this is heightened in public places, because of his shy nature any type of pda drives him crazy and he gets wound up very quickly

gently touch his arm or chest when talking to him, put a hand on his shoulder or thigh when laughing, get his attention touching the back of his neck, literally any of the tamest touch will have his face and ears all hot and red.

not just touching him, either, just existing as hot as you are in his presence makes him stiff.

doesn’t talk a lot in general, and i don’t think that changes in bed. he’s a quiet person, so treasure the groans you do get to hear

down so horrendous

everyone knows the quiet guys are the hung ones

and man is he PACKIN

i hope you have a size kink because everything about him is huge, from his stature to his muscles to his cock

i’m thinking upwards of 8 inches, insanely thick and a deep reddish color, tip color #b3505e

due to his anxiety and quiet nature, he has had extremely little experience with relationships and sex. he was bullied in school, and i can’t imagine him having a lot of practice before meeting you

my little meow meow so easily flustered and blushing bright red the whole time

his thoughts are probably “oh my god oh fuck wow holy oh my god oh my god” and he can’t form any real sentences or coherent thoughts

probably busts prematurely and then he’s so embarrassed, would freak out about it until you calm him down and tell him it’s okay

then he’d make it up to you

what he’s lacking in experience he makes up for with eagerness, he’s a fast learner and attentive to detail

gives AMAZING head. once he learns how you like it it’s over for you. has his head buried between your thighs for hours, and his tongue in combination with thick fingers splitting you open will have your legs shaking and you crying

if you ever don’t want to sit on his face for fear of hurting him or hover above instead of putting your weight on him he looks at you like >:((

leans towards the submissive side, will do anything you want him to do and is down to experiment

when it comes to what HE wants tho… he is much too shy to ask to try stuff out it takes a lot of courage u might need to infer some things

enjoys being submissive the majority of the time but there are times when he gets so wound up and desperate he’ll just take you how he wants (lord have mercy…)

in these situations i imagine it’s probably been a bit since you’ve last had the chance to be… intimate. naturally you take it upon yourself to tease him whenever given the chance, trying your hardest to make him blush

he also has an extremely high sex drive, he’s an absolute beast of a man and can go for 2-3 rounds without break. just crazy amounts of stamina and strength. this in combination with you teasing him means you’re really in for it the second you have some alone time

no matter how much you weigh he could pick you up and handle you like a rag doll. he is HUGE and insanely strong as previously mentioned

in conclusion just big and strong and very much loving and protective in his own weird 🧍 way

**these will be elaborated on soon trust i plan on doing nsfw alphabets for the whole task force + my boy

masterlist

#my little meow meow #!my stuff #konig x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #könig #könig x reader

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lalasworld2x · 3 months

Text

Brahms x Reader Headcanons

This takes place after you find out he’s a grown man lol (but you don’t kill him of course)

• There aren’t any romantic feelings at first just because you’re still interested in Malcom, but you can decide if you guys have a falling out or if you just lose interest lol.

• It might take a bit to convince him to do house chores as well, as he’s lived his whole life in the walls and just has the mindset of “people have always done it for me, why stop now??”

• If you ever get mad at him, he’d probably try and finish all the house tasks before you get a chance to just so there’s now a reason for you to not be mad at him.

• He still likes to stay in the walls quite often, like a safe space for him.

• At the start, he used to get really overwhelmed by being out for so long, so you’d sit and comfort him for as long as possible. This just made him fall for you harder.

• He loves to cuddle in bed. He’s been touch starved so long, he just wants a warm bed and a warm embrace for hours on end ☹️💔

• Sometimes the closeness is never enough for him, like he just needs to be as close to you as possible. It’s not enough until he is literally molding into you, like angler fish lmao. If this makes you uncomfortable, he will back off but it will be a bit hard for him.

• He can definitely be demanding and sometimes very selfish, you may unfortunately have to still treat him like a child. I bet naughty corners would still work tbh… make sure you set clear boundaries and speak up for yourself.

• Although it’s definitely understandable if you were afraid to stand up for yourself, we already know he’s willing to hurt you and those that you love just to make sure you’d stick around.. I’m not gonna lie, it would actually probably be helpful to learn at least a bit of self defence in case he ever does try to put his hands on you. I’m sure even being strong enough to hold him in a head lock would scare him enough to back off and respect you more.

• This man does not gaf about body types or anything, he loves em all! Lean, muscular, chunky, curvy, slender, average- anything and he loves it!! He just wants someone to take care of him

• His immune system would probably be on the border of decent and not very good. He’s lived his life in the walls which is certainly not clean and nurturing space, but he also hasn’t really gotten out enough to get sick or hurt himself. Obviously he had a life before being forced into hiding, but he did spend like a decade tucked away. Would probably help you to get him vaccinated lol. ANYWAYS my point is, he might get sick fairly often, especially if you do actually start bringing friends and family over and you get to have an actual job. He would LOVE to have you coddle him. Tuck him right into bed, make him hot soup, coo over him, etc.

• Just because you would hate to be stuck at home with him all day I’m sure, you set some boundaries and convince him that he will be okay if you apply for jobs or go out to get materials and such for your own job if you work from home. And you should absolutely have the right to bring friends and family over now that he’s no longer a doll. This might upset him for a while, but you both come up with ways to make this arrangement comfortable for you.

• He compliments you all the time. You makeup, outfit, hair, posture, ideas, expression, the way you look when stretching or exercising, your interests- anything and everything!

• He will make small crafts for you as gift, mostly paper. He may even learn some origami for you with a book he found. He’s a bit shy when gift giving so he’ll leave it in a spot he knows you will find it and go somewhere else to hide and watch your reaction.

• He might be a bit shy to try new foods, but if he knows that you really enjoy them, it might encourage him a bit. He would love to indulge in your own culture more, so he would be less timid about trying traditional foods from your cultural background!

———————-

I know this one is kinda shit, I was struggling to think of things that I haven’t already seen other creators write before and I did NOT want to steal peoples ideas 😭😭

Masterlist

#brahms heelshire #brahms heelsire x reader #the boy 2016 #x reader #horror #imagine #slashers #horror movies #headcanons #x yn

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radiantidiot · 24 days

Note

I wanna see some of your headcannons tbh. Either game works.

(Pls, if thats not to hard. If you don't mind)

Ok so I answered a similar question here, but I'll expand on some stuff and say new things here.

D'arce is a lesbian, Le'garde is her comphet. She was originally gonna be lesbian, and there was a piece of concept art you've probably seen of her with the ghost women, in my heart she never stopped being lesbian.

Le'garde knows this, and finds it useful. In my heart he's gay, this is partly due to the fact that he's based off of one of the gayest possible people, but I think one of the reasons he keeps her around is she deflects suspicion. He can't be gay, look at this child of Alll-mer he is likely together with.

I might have said this before but d'arce and Samarie are the same person to me. Not really a headcanon, more just like vibes. Two lesbians who feel such a profound emptiness, but have found someone who fills that emptiness. And upon finding someone who makes the emptiness go away, they're willing to do terrible, terrible things to keep them in their life. Samarie out of love, but D'arce out of like religious devotion (insert three paragraph rant sky Le'garde Alll-mer symbolism, I've ranted about it before tho so I'll spare you the repeat) but she interprets this devotion as love as well.

(This one is fully stolen from modern man traditional medicine, one of my favorite fics ever) Daan has a hard time being close to people. I think his childhood plus the creepy ass arrangement with the baron have kinda made it impossible to be like intimate with anyone in any way that doesn't feel like a performance. I think he kinda sees sex and intimacy as like a favor or a transaction, cause that's all it's ever been to him. The background option that teaches loving whispers is also implied to be like prostitution so like......

Abella would have loved factorio. This is like 100% projection cause I love factorio and I love abella, but I really feel like she would have liked it.

Uh cahara uh beautiful pretty man uh I forgot what I was gonna put here

Karin is homophobic. There's a very real chance this was on the last post too but I don't remember lol. This one's kinda Canon, based on what she says at the train if you're playing as daan, but it's especially funny cause in my heart she's bi.

Enki is ace. He crashes the game if you try and make a marriage with him. He could just refuse, but in my brain he accepts and then exerts what little control over the game he has to hurt the real human playing the game by making them lose their save. This one's got the stamp of approval from my ace best friend.

I would love to hear your head canons as well! This is mainly directed at herta, but random passerbys are also encouraged to give me your head canons!

#fear and hunger #daan von dutch #cahara of the south #abella funger #fear and hunger abella #d'arce cataliss #samarie #samarie fear and hunger #le'garde #legarde #karin sauer #feeling fungry

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lonelierthanu · 1 year

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Do You Like Me?

This is any male character x anyone tbh. I first wrote this with Hanta Sero in mind, but now I feel like it matches Gojo better. But there weren’t any specificities mentioned.

oneshot

words: 558

warnings: implied nsfw; hurt/no comfort; no specific gender or pronouns mentioned; no female/male anatomy mentioned; angst; implied nudity; self-indulgent; friends w/benefits arrangement

summary: You are, unfortunately, in love. That wasn’t the plan.

minors dni!

"Do you like me?" you asked with bated breath, almost shakily.

“Yeah, I like you.. I like you a lot," he turned to flash a quick smile at you. You smiled back, but it didn't reach your eyes, and they began to water.

"But you don't...love me." You reply. He's midway buttoning his pants, facing away from the bed, when he stops. You stare at his bareback; the marks you left there. You didn't phrase it in a question, because you already know. You may have been stupid enough to fall for him, but you weren’t naive to think things would be this simple. He sighs as he looks up at the ceiling. Then pinches the bridge of nose as he lowers his head.

How dare he look inconvenienced, you thought briefly. If anything, you should be the one sighing in exasperation.

"We talked about this," he whispers, standing completely still, but doesn’t turn around.

Yeah, you talked about it, but that was months ago, before you decided to do anything, before you shared your worries with each other in the hushed silence of a shared bed, before he would claim that it’s too late to go back to his place and you’d watch movies cuddled on the couch together, before you began to let those moments get to your head.

Before you fell for him.

“Yeah,” you whisper, “We did.” your voice was shaky as you held your breath to avoid tears spilling out. He turns around then, to see you looking towards the side table, there’s nothing of any special notability on top of it, but it’s better than looking into his piercing eyes.

You didn’t know that they were anything but piercing, more soft, when looking at your eyes glistening with unshed tears and the uneven pacing of your bare chest rising and falling with each exhale and inhale.

“So you know…we can’t...” he begins remorsefully, not wanting to utter the word out loud in fear that it would hurt you more by insinuating something he can’t provide you.

“Yeah.” You cut him off. You didn’t want him to continue. It was embarrassing enough lying in bed fully nude while the guy you love just walks away like you're nothing, then bluntly telling you he doesn’t want to be with you. “...can-...can you leave?” you look at him then.

He doesn’t want to, but he obliges with your wishes. He puts on his shirt and socks. He’s not fast by any means, concerned with leaving you alone. He scrambles for a minute to find the ring that flew off earlier in his…haste, but eventually it is finally time for him to depart. He stands with his knees flush to the end of the bed and looks at you with your head now buried under the covers, just the crown of your head visible, and he hesitates. Not wanting to leave things on such a bad note, he gives you a kiss on your crown and quickly makes his exit.

After applying his shoes and coat at the front door, he steps into the cold. He stuffs his hands in his pockets as he takes one last look to your door. He knows what this means for the future of his relationship; you do too.

And neither of you are ready to accept it.

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ💚ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ💚ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ💚ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

♡´･ᴗ･`♡ I realized as I was posting this that the ring part makes it sound like bro is married and him and reader are having an affair 💀 That was not my intention lol. but you can think that if you want 🤷‍♀️btw I lowkey want to write more for this or like, a second part, but I have no idea what I’d write lol. anyway, thanks for reading <3

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babyjakes · 2 years

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captain's orders. [blurb.]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | feb '23 blurb night

summary | steve dotes on you when your period's causing you pain.

pairing | bf!steve rogers x reader

warnings | reader's having period cramps, meds mention (ibuprofen), stevie is the cutest and i love him, tummy rubs hehe :'-), just soooo fluffy and cute and sweet <333

word count | 380

requested by anon | Have you done a period cramps hurt / comfort before? That would be so soft. Maybe Stucky comforting her? She always needs to be in one of their arms at all times. 🥺

an | this is such a cute idea, thanks for sending in sweet nonnie!!! hope it's okay i just went with stevie for this one, tbh i haven't been writing any seb liiike at all not even bucky so :^) here is sweet amazing wonderful perfect bf!stevie for you!!! with a guest appearance by bestie!sam hehe <333

Steve can't help but frown down at you in concern; you're clearly in pain as you writhe against him, struggling to find a position that's comfortable. "Here- let's use this, doll," he suggests as he reaches over and grabs a pillow to place beside him, easing your head down against it as he lays your midsection over his lap. Sighing at the small sense of relief the new arrangement brings, you wrap your arm around the man's own as he brings a gentle hand down to rub over your tummy. "There you go, good girl. Just relax."

Your gaze travels warily over to the generic white pill bottle sitting on the coffee table. Reading your mind, Steve asks, "Those kickin' in yet?"

"Not yet," you mumble, but you're not surprised. It was less than ten minutes ago that you took them- all you can do now is wait.

"You want me to grab you an ice pack? Or maybe warm you up something to drink?" the kind man offers as his gentle hand draws circles over your tender skin. Shaking your head, you turn a little to look at him better.

"Jus' wanna stay here with you, please," you request shyly. At your timid words, Steve's face softens with affection.

"Of course, doll. You don't even have to ask- gonna stay right here with you, darlin'. Wanna take care of my best girl." At the sight of you laying so unguarded in his lap, with your smaller arms wrapped around his, and big eyes blinking up at him so mildly, Steve can't cope with the thought of leaving you alone, not even for a moment. With his free hand, he reaches into his back pocket, pulling out his phone.

"What's up?" you ask with a raised brow.

"Just texting Sam, gonna have him run to the store for us. You need some chocolate, and something nice for a bath later. And- we're almost out of pain meds." Smiling at the man, you bring his hand up to your lips to kiss his fingers gently. Steve pauses to smile at you, rubbing your cheek lovingly. "Was gonna go myself, but there's no way I could leave you now. You're stayin' right here, young lady, 'til you're feelin' all better. Captain's orders."

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phoenixcatch7 · 1 day

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Random mdzs headcanons that I don't think interfere with canon:

Though sufficient cultivation cures this, lwj is short sighted. (this is because of that mxtx interview but if he actually was short sighted he would be wearing glasses in canon.) Similarly, so would lxc and lqr is already halfway there lol.

Wen chao is barely older than the main cast. Like a couple years at most. This is is because it took until his poor wife (who shall forever be unknown, rip) being mentioned for me to go 'that's an ADULT?!'. Everything from the voice to the face to the short sighted immaturity and the lying to adults in charge, there's no way this guy is anything over 20.

Lqr isn't a very strong cultivator for all his technical skill is impeccable. I think this because I thought he was young grandparent age when he's the uncle!! It's too much stress! Major props.

He's also aromantic! We know that nothing will stop a lan in love, much to their detriment, but not only does lqr seem to regard the lot of them as idiots for finding the absolute worst choices ever but I feel if he'd also loved and lost it would have been... Relevant.

Jfm was gay, and his unrequited love was wcz. Alternate sexualities (and queerness as a whole) is one of those things that's still so dangerous in many countries, and I guess ancient fantasy China is one of them! Poor mxy. Anyway that plus arranged marriages plus jfm being an only child (to my knowledge) and needing heirs... Yeah I feel like that's one of those things that happens. It's common all throughout history, forcing people into het relationships for any number of reasons or risk social (or even physical) death. I could so easily trace how that would have affected him through the courtship, marriage, his parents, him genuinely trying to love yzy and maybe deep inside knowing it was doomed to fail, her intelligence picking up on that and trying to figure out how she was unworthy, her feeling hurt and disrespected, getting more and more paranoid and sensitive as it wears on, her being so close to the right answer but correcting her would expose him. Him just trying to settle for mutual respect and teamwork and her never getting what she needs to be fulfilled in life, what she was raised and trained all her life in preparation for. The way he's so unwilling to force his kids to do anything miserable and the way he's so quick to call off the engagement when all he's hearing is disinterest and incompatibility. I could make this a whole post on its own but I fully believe this man lived and died like so many other queer people have in the past - never being able to find out who he truly was, and that he wasn't broken for not being the way he needed to be. Wangxian have an easier time of it, but when there's stories like mxy? People keep their heads down. He raised jc the way he was raised, and he turned out fine. It wasn't their fault he was such a failure of a son.

To cheer things up, I firmly believe that wwx is bisexual af. Just because lwj is his soulmate doesn't mean he's not. Are you an mxtx protag if you're simply, straightforwardly gay? I think not.

Though I do wonder if jc being Banned From Women was 100% an entirely whoopsie daisy accident. Sometimes standards are supposed to be impossible... Now I think about it, the certainty lwj hated wwx, the total lack of any partner, the focus on jl, the constant frustration with wwx's flirting and incomprehension with jyl crushing on jzx... I think the women are the only straight ones in the family, cuz he's sounding the aroace bell! Good for him tbh!!! Break the cycle!!!!

Lsh is the child of either wrh, wc, jgs, or two perfectly lovely normal people who died in war/childbirth. He was 100% a village kid, so thank goodness they all stepped up. I feel like one of the wens would have told wwx his parentage either way, so if he hasn't told anyone else I can't imagine it's great.

Each sect is associated with an element. The wens of course were fire, the nie earth, the lan air, the jin water (koi/carp tower), and the jiang are lightning (given we assume yzy and the jiang territory are compatible (her husband is probably water lol oof)). Years of specialised clan training and select marriages have caused the clan members qi to take on movement (at minimum) matching the respective elements. This is based on the anime, where everyone has nice handy colour coded qi, but the twin jades have the prettiest cloud texture that perfectly matches their crest and wwx has an almost lightning spiky red with just enough smoulder to make he sure he's a fire type. This also!!! Matches their fighting styles, have you noticed?? Idk if they did it on purpose or not but it's so cool!!! Wwx and jc are constantly moving, redirection, bounce and flip around; lwj and lxc are very twirly, lots of attacks from above, lwj often lets his sword fly mid battle, and of course the music! And the nie are very... Brick wall lol. I'd say NHS is air? Maybe? Water?

This one's a bit silly, but I like to imagine csr and bsr are mother and daughter from a distant land where people use their surnames last (gasp) and it wasn't really important to bsr cuz secluded mountain but they did figure it was going to be a problem a touch late. 'oh but phoenix they have different spellings in Chinese' csr got asked 'oh so like the immortal?' panicked and changed it on the spot. Her husband's nicknames all use her 'surname', he's the only one who knows about the mix up.

Spinning in the air helps you change an attack or helps you float. Yes this is based entirely on the anime (donghua?) where even the most serious of characters (lwj) do three full rotations before landing a big attack midair. It might be so he has time to get his guqin out lmao.

Jc is left handed, I'm pretty sure that's anime canon at least. Any good swordsman (or dual sword whip wielder!) can do a little ambidexterousness tho.

Wwx can do decent guqin cuz he's the gentleman prodigy of the arts but he probably whittled a dozen dizi out of roadside bamboo on long journeys to entertain himself which is why chengching was such a fine tuned spiritual tool.

The jiangs were a great sect lead by good people in an ehhhh family. Individually they're all actually decent people but they bring out the worst in each other even as it keeps them all in check.

I firmly believe that yzy was holding back a LOT when made to whip wwx in front of the wen wench. That's a whole entire spiritual weapon and she was going at it wildly in a barely stable environment. Compare that to lwj who took the discipline whip not too many more times (if any) and was rendered bed bound if not house bound for years recovering (and grieving) and over a decade later is still a mass of scar tissue. And that was an orderly and structured punishment using materials designed to NOT kill the victim, not a whole entire LIGHTNING MURDER WEAPON. Wwx was back on his feet minutes later sword fighting, rowing, carrying jc on his back... Lwj is the more realistic result, real whips can be lethal, and very, very dangerous. They are excruciatingly painful and if you make a mistake they can easily flay skin and muscle to crack bone. You're not supposed to strike the same patch of skin twice. Yeah wwx and his stupid pain tolerance but I truly believe him and yzy were in full accord in that moment with the roles they had to play (and jc hated every second). She could at least have apologised... in the middle of heated battle for her home and life though....

Lwjs eyes are gold and sunset and stars' YES ALSO BUT I looked at them and my immediate reaction was 'that's a bird of prey'. They're LITERALLY falcon eyes, they're identical, and I've never once seen that comparison :(. He's already piercing/intense/pinning/scouring, (and his anime eyeliner and dark lashes look like the markings) he's so perfect for the metaphor. Make it that wwx is the rabbit prey, come on.

Why is wwx sun coded but moon aesthetic and lwj moon coded but sun aesthetic like how's that fair why does it always happen.

Stop blaming wwx for Suiban he admits he came up with a zillion good names and it was jfm who didn't pick any and named it as a joke. Ngl if that was my trusted person who went and did that I would have been gutted but hey wwx thrives. I do feel like jfm naming the sword that wwx sacrifices to save jc is grounds for some angst at the very least.

Lxc was definitely in some situation with the other two because he does read as a parallel to lwj. Their romantic lives are basically inversions of each other, you could hold a graph up to a mirror. It's just that lwj was so deeply lucky to get wwx back, and he fell in love with someone true to himself. Lxc just got used and left with the ashes, no matter how much true love was on either side. Wwx chose family, kindness and community with poverty and jgy chose greed and power and wealth for total isolation. It was NHS that inverted their fates, but either brother's love could only come at the cost of the other. Poor qiren...

All those fancy huge ribbons in everyone's hair (again it's the anime donghua) are special and ridiculously sturdy ribbons given by the parents they wear in varying styles to tie it all up and as they grow up so they don't trip on it. This is a silly headcanon but I love it cuz those ribbons are stupid long and literally everyone has it. Maybe it's the mdzs equivalent of the guan ceremony?

Wwx has for sure done cannibalism.

Ooh painful headcanon time - his parents died in yiling right? And all corpses get tossed into the mounds for centuries, right? Nonzero chance wwx's parents bodies broke his fall.

Lwj gets wwx a mule for a birthday/festival cuz those guys are basically the perfect mounts humans are ever going to get, they're just v rare and infertile. They're smart and brave as donkeys and fast and strong like the horse, resulting in an animal that is down for mounted parkour with the right training. And then lwj can ride a horse alongside wwx when they go travelling ^^. Idk I just think it'd be super cute.

Wwx only comes up with good names when he's doing real bad. Names when he's doing good: Suiban, li'l apple, rulan (after his bf). Names when he's doing bad: chengqing, yin iron tally/stygian tiger amulet, compass of evil.

#mdzs #mxtx mdzs #This took me two hours ToT #It might be controversial to like yzy and hate jgy but he killed his kid and ran a concentration camp and she would risk her sect burning #Rather than cut off a kids hand. Like there's levels. Well. I wouldn't say I like her but she has ignored depths.#the untamed #mo dao zu shi #wei wuxian #headcanon #my headcanons

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aimfor-theheart · 2 years

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Prologue: Godlings

· · ───────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ·

Masterlist | Chapter One: Swallow -> | Read on Ao3

Pairings: Satoru Gojo x f!reader

Summary: And the form leans down, closer, as their voice drops to a murmur, all honey and thorns, the promise of something far greater than you. A storm to come. The future that you will bear upon the slant of your shoulders. And when they speak, you know they’ve cursed you;

“I will teach you how to make a God.”

(Arranged marriage, angst, hurt/comfort, dark content)

Warnings (specifically for this chapter): Blood, slight gore, migraine-like pain, pain, introduction to unhealthy parental relationships, notes of sexism, arranged marriage between children, mention of parental death. **Please mind warnings overall and for each chapter**

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: finally, it begins :,) it's been a long time coming. i'm pretty nervous for this one!! but i hope you enjoy!! let me know what you're thinking/feeling, if you love it, hate it, or otherwise!! lots of this went on the cutting room floor tbh so feel free to ask questions, come chat, etc.!! endless thanks to my lovely @lorelune who beta read this prologue, listened to me ramble for months, and has been an overall dear to me in general <3 without further ado, the prologue!

· · ───────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ·

Your mother is careful with your hair. She knows how to tend to it.

You are young, still a child, sitting in front of a mirror, in the crux of your mother’s lap. You are still and silent for her, lest she gently scold you.

She hums softly as her hands move deftly.

There is commotion outside your room.

Your mother pauses.

Voices approach the door. She freezes. Her fingers slip away from your hair as she cants her head to the side and listens. You have learned to follow your mother’s cues, like a fawn who goes wide eyed and unmoving beside the doe.

When the door flies open, your mother is quick to stand. Your hair is half done, parts of it slipping and falling around your neck, your shoulders. You stand, too, scramble up and feel her push you behind her legs.

But it’s just your aunt, out of breath, a little harried.

Your mother lets out a sigh of relief, almost annoyance when she realizes who it is. She allows you to peer around her legs.

“What is all the fuss abou–”

“Did you hear?” Your aunt interrupts, crossing into the room in a flurry. “The Gojo’s finally have a Six Eyes user.”

You see your mother’s hand, watch as it tenses in her skirts, before unfurling.

“What? They haven’t had one of those in–”

“Nearly one hundred years.” Your aunt finishes, as she tends to do. “Everyone’s astonished—they think the boy—Satoru, the young one—is going to restore the Gojo clan’s power.”

Your mother hums, her hand falling back down to the top of your head. Her fingers are careful, gently petting. “He’s only six or so, isn’t he?”

He’s two years older than you.

“Yes, so young. But he’s inherited Limitless and Six Eyes. It’s certainly stirred up the other clans.” Your aunt finally begins to fix her appearance after rushing here, smoothing away ruffled lines in her clothes and flyaway hairs. She is usually a pristine woman, if not an uptight one.

“Well, thankfully we’ve always been closer to the Gojo clan than others.” Your mother murmurs and something in her voice makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You peer up at her curiously.

But it’s your aunt’s eyes that finally land on you.

“Yes,” she says slowly, “but we could always be closer.”

You feel your mother tense, and you know that she is trying to keep a neutral face, “don’t start, please.”

“If she inherits our family’s own technique—if she has Foresight, or Hindsight—both, perhaps—“ Your aunt steps towards you and your mother. You cling tighter to your mother’s leg, but she does not move.

“Which we have not seen in nearly one hundred years ourselves—“ Your mother interrupts sharply.

“She’s shown signs.” Your aunt presses, “she’s just about his age.”

“She’s four.” Your mother bites out, reflexively ushering you back again. “I won’t entertain this.”

“What?” You ask.

Your voice, young and small, makes both of them pause.

“Nothing, darling.” Your mother says, lowering to be at your level, “nothing for you to worry about. Why don’t you pick out clips for me to put into your hair? I’m going to speak with your aunt for just a moment.”

Her hands are gentle, as they guide you back to the vanity. She opens a drawer for you, where countless gleaming clips and pins and hair sticks twinkle with soft noise as they’re jostled. You look up at her, knowing she is trying to distract you.

“But—“

“I’ll be back in a moment.” She hushes and then she is grabbing your aunt, and leaving the room.

The door shuts with a quiet click. You stare at it for a long time.

You finally pick through the hair clips, gently, as if not to disturb them. They are all jeweled and beautiful, all different colors; rubies and peaches and opalescent pearls.

But it’s a sapphire clip you pluck out.

And it’s infinitely blue, like an endless, summer sky.

***

Your cursed technique bursts to life inside of you at the age of seven. First Hindsight; the vision of your left eye spirals and you clutch desperately at it as pressure bubbles behind the socket.

For a horrifying moment, you think your eye will burst clear from your head.

You scream out; piercing, terrified. A child’s scream.

Pain surmounts inside of your eye swift and hot, a pulsing that arcs through you, that shudders through your skull. It radiates down to your jaw, your throat, zinging down the left side of your body. You push at your eye, like maybe you could keep it together, keep it in its place.

You barely hear the voices around you.

“Don’t touch her!”

“It’s her technique—“

Your screams taper into pained sobs, which rise in pitch when the darkness of your vision begins to twist and bend.

Your mother is held back. They won’t let her touch you or hold you or comfort you, for fear of ruining your vision of the past.

She screams with you, cries with you, clawing at her husband. At her sister. At everyone who tries to keep her from you.

Colors wash in and out, a heat burns at your eye, before a vision snaps into focus;

The tree you’d touched growing backwards, into a sapling, into a seed, into the ground that was once bare. A curse that roams the land. A bird that flies past, the seed returning to its mouth, to the sky.

You scream so loudly, so terribly, that you shred through your vocal chords.

You won’t be able to speak for a week after this.

And then, as if it’d never happened, your vision clears. The pressure recedes like the tide that finally pulls away from a battered shore. Your wailing tapers off to hoarse cries, fingers still clutching at your left eye.

And then arms are around you, cradling you, crying with you.

You bury your face into your mother’s neck and sob, heavy and heaving, like you know what this means. You cry like you’re already mourning the life ahead of you, like you knew this was the point of no return.

Maybe you did.

Your mother does.

She cries for you, for the role you will play, for the girl you will become. For what Time will demand of you.

She rocks you in her arms, cradling your aching head to her chest, your trembling body to her own.

Your left eye bleeds in rivulets down your cheek, smearing into the crème robes of your mother. It burns and burns and burns. Red blossoms like rose petals on the fabric of her clothes. It stains deep.

And when you lift your heavy head from her shoulder, your left eye is forever changed. Your clan gasps in soft awe.

Striking silver cuts through the original color of your eye, like a bolt of lightning, like the flash of a knife.

***

If receiving Hindsight was painful, then Foresight is agony.

Not long after, your right eye feels as if it’s been slashed open, caught on the claws of Time. It hurts so badly that you can hardly make a noise, a mangled gasp, before you drop like a stone, before the vision of your right eye tunnels sharply.

A stake has been driven through your eye, you are certain of it. It feels as if it’s gone clear through the right side of your skull. This time, your mother is the only one with you. You don’t know it, but she brings your head into her lap. It’s bleeding from where you fell. Her hand cups the wound, letting it spill slick over her palms and fingers. Your hair grows wet with it.

You are the first sorcerer in one hundred years to receive both Foresight and Hindsight. Your visions will be unparalleled. A complete picture of the past, present, and future.

Limitless in your knowledge.

A conduit of Fate, of Time.

At once, you see the shimmery lines of cursed energy and you know it is your mother’s form. She manifests in your vision.

You see it all.

Her life, the mistakes, the hardships, the joy. You watch your form grow up with your mother’s.

You see her death. The bloody tilt of her head.

Anguish rips through you.

You inhale like you’re resurfacing, only to let out a horrified scream.

Your mother tries to cradle you, to hold you and soothe you. Your scream alerts your father. Your aunt. Your clan.

The whole world, maybe.

You tear at your right eye so harshly, so viciously, so desperately that you give yourself three scars ripping down the plain of your face. But when you are finally able to open it again, streaked with blood, gold has blossomed in the center of your iris.

Your father falls to his knees in shock, in thanks. How lucky he is, to have such a blessed child, to have such a gift—

Your mother lurches you away from all of them, cradles you to her chest like you are an infant.

And she apologizes to you, over and over and over again.

***

Your mother fought hard for you. You know it. She cursed and spat and yelled at your father and her sister and brother and their father. Your house was not quiet for weeks on end.

But in the end, your mother lost, as mother’s often do with daughters.

As daughter’s often do.

You are to meet with the Gojo clan, to meet the boy who you will eventually marry. There will be some sort of ceremony to seal the promise of your marriage, a binding vow carved between you and a boy you’ve never met, who apparently has shaken all the heavens and earth with his existence.

You imagine someone imposing, the monster in your dreams with glowing eyes.

You imagine someone cold and powerful and everlasting.

You don’t imagine just a boy, a little older than you, with star blue eyes and a shock of white hair that is neatly combed down. His face is otherwise blank. He looks too perfect, standing beside his mother, who is tall and inhumanly beautiful. Her eyes are startling as well–a blue so fierce and deep that you don’t dare look long or hard into her face. She reminds you of the monster in your dreams, something sharp and so cold it burns.

You cling harder to your mother’s hand, warm and soft and comforting in yours.

You are swathed in white, revealed to the Gojo’s like a little jewel to be unearthed.

You are not wearing your long gloves today. Your father forbade it.

You don’t yet have control of your technique so anything–anyone–you touch immediately sends you spiraling into the past, then sharply into the future. A whole picture. The history and the fate of anything you can touch.

You have already seen your mother’s future. You mourn her in the moment, when you still have her, because to you, in ways, she is already dead.

You cling desperately to her, your only landline.

She never asked what you saw of her. You never told her.

But until you gain control of your technique, you wear gloves, lest you touch your father, your aunt, all the people you love and see their life flash before your childish eyes. Your clan has agreed for now that this is acceptable; the weight of time will crush a child. It will drive you mad. And they need you to have your wits; for them, for their protection.

However, today, your father pulled the gloves from your small hands carefully–made sure he hadn’t truly touched you– and then asked you to take Satoru Gojo’s hands and return to tell him everything you had seen in his future.

Unknown to you, Satoru’s mother has instructed him to keep Limitless up at all times near you.

His mother and your father would get along, you think, with all their demands of their children. Adults with agendas, using their children as tools, using their gifts as leverage, their existence as bargaining chips.

Satoru’s mother looks at you like you’re a curse; a squirming, grotesque creature here to get your warped hands on her son.

But your mother eyes Satoru carefully, too, the boy that will become the man that you will be forever tethered to. She had not wished for you to have the same life she did. She hopes Satoru will be a better man than your father. She hopes he will be good and kind, at least to you, at least to his wife. She prays silently, begs a higher power, begs the boy in front of her with her eyes for him to be good.

You are hardly introduced to each other before his father says, “Satoru, why don’t you show her the gardens?”

And in some part of your young mind, you know they want to talk as adults. Without you. About you.

Unearthly blue eyes slash to you. You feel your little heart rabbit in your chest. You squeeze tighter to your mother’s hand.

Satoru seems unsure for a moment, lifts his hand like he might extend it to you. The room holds their breath. But then he lets it fall limply to his side.

His mother bends down beside him a moment, “remember what I told you.”

Her voice is not kind. It is hushed, but not enough to keep it a secret from the whole room. Pointedly, she eyes you (they have the same eyes, they have the same mouth and the same starlight hair). You shrink away from her gaze. Your mother tenses.

Satoru nods simply.

And then he tells you, voice smaller than you had thought it would be, “the gardens are this way.” He turns on his heel, away from his mother, turning his back on the clans, on the whole group.

The image clings to you. A boy alone, with his back turned.

You don’t know why, but you follow–without your mother’s prompting for once, without her encouragement or approval. You hurry a little, picking up your skirts to catch up to his side.

So you can walk beside him, with your backs turned, with their eyes on you both.

He is quiet while you walk through winding halls. You are quiet, too. What are you supposed to say to a boy who will be your husband? You want to yell maybe, or cry. You want to tell him no–you want to run away.

The gardens yawn open before your eyes, greeting you with lush colors and gentle sound; water that runs, birds that chirp, the rustle of wind slipping through the leaves. Arching, bright colored trees and budding ruby flowers. Blue leaves and speckled butterflies that flit to and fro.

He sits on a pair of stone steps, beneath the patterned shade of a tree. You sit beside him, careful, uncertain.

Out of earshot, away from the world, in a garden that only you two belong to for a moment, he finally says, “my mother told me to not let you touch me.”

Perhaps naively, you say, “my father told me to touch you.”

“Why?”

“It’s how my technique works. If I touch anything, I will see its past, present, and future.” You explain mechanically, the way adults have explained it to you, opening up your little palms to gaze at them. “I usually wear gloves, so I don’t touch anyone. I don’t want to see their future.”

“Can’t you control it?” He asks, tilting his head. You can’t tell if he’s making fun of you.

“No.” And then, because you feel self-conscious or a little insulted, you tack on, “not yet.”

He turns his head towards you and if he is scrutinizing you, you can’t tell. His mouth twists a little, though, a flickering of a smile you think might light up the room if he lets it overtake his face.

He’s not very imposing at all, you realize.

“You can’t touch anyone?” He asks.

“Not without gloves–except for my mother.”

He must understand the implication. He is quiet for a moment. A bird darts from a tree. A gust of wind brushes past the two of you.

And then he holds up his hand to you.

Instinctively, you wince away from him. “I won’t touch you. I don’t want to touch you.”

“No, I–” he starts, and then, “you can try. My technique won’t let you touch me. Put your hand up to mine.”

When you look at him in horror, he can’t help but laugh a little, the sound burrowing deep inside of you. It frees you both, maybe. “I promise,” he says softly, and all the world is in his voice, in that tiny, little promise, “you won’t touch me. You won’t see anything–not if you never want to.”

Tentatively, terrified, you hold your hand up to his.

You brace for pain. You squeeze your eyes shut in fear, like you might block out the past, the future. You will never be able to.

But he says, “look,” and so you do. You crack a silver-laced eye open. And then gold blossomed.

And your hands, despite seeming to nearly touch, never actually make contact. A barrier rests between you. You can feel it, the energy of it, pressed into your palm. So close and yet–

“There’s infinity between us.” He explains and his fingers fold carefully between yours. Still, no visions come. Still, you don’t touch him. It feels like you might be, though.

“Can you touch anyone?” You ask in awe.

He laughs again, more carefree. “Yes, I can, if I want to.”

You flex your fingers, push against the barrier a little to test it. You never touch him. Will you ever touch him, you wonder? Will he remain untouchable forever to you?

You let your hand slip away from his.

Bluntly, a little surprisingly, he says, “it’s weird to think we’ll be married one day.”

“Yeah,” you agree, feeling something tighten and then sharply unravel inside of your chest. A sucked in breath, held, and then let go. A heart’s nervous hope, maybe. “My mom is upset about it.”

“So is mine, I think.” He responds, sighing lightly. And then, “are you?”

You grow shy, even if you can’t see his eyes on you. You know it’s hurtful to say yes, you know it wouldn’t be polite. You would get scolded.

But he says, “you don’t have to lie to me.”

He must see it, sense it in you.

“Yes–I don’t know you. I don’t like boys. And it makes my mother cry. I hate, hate seeing her upset.” You look away from him sharply, feeling the heat in your face, the childish rush of frustration, of tears, bellow up from inside of you.

You cried the whole morning in your mother’s arms. You didn’t want to go. You didn’t want to meet him. You didn’t want to touch him.

You can feel him peering at you and the tremble of your little heart is greater than you can name at this age, you feel greater than your age already. Forever old. Forever young. Somewhere caught in Time’s tricky fingers.

“Are you?” You manage to get out, “upset?”

He nods. “I think it’s dumb,” he says, “and such an old idea. My father says the clans have always been stuck in the past.”

He sounds like he’s repeating the words of an adult. He sounds old, in a too-young body, too.

“Maybe we can stop it, when we’re grown-up, too.” You offer.

Satoru makes a face, nose wrinkling up, lips twisting downward. “A binding vow is going to be made between us today–it’s really bad to break those. Even when we’re grown-ups, it would be bad.” He looks out at the garden now, away from you, “my mother specifically didn’t want this, because once it’s made, we’ll always have it.”

“Always?”

Satoru nods, “until the vow is complete, at least.”

“Until we’re married,” you say. And then, “we could get divorced, maybe.”

Satoru’s face goes perfectly blank, the only indication of his distaste is a small, downward tilt of his lips. “Maybe.”

Silence stretches itself between you two, long and slow, the garden filling it, bubbling and rustling with everything that could be said, that won’t be said.

“We could make it our own,” Satoru says suddenly and his eyes brighten, flash in the sun like a bluejay’s wing.

You look at him and you’re young, maybe too young to understand any of this at all, but you nod readily.

“How do we make it our own?” You ask.

Eagerly, he says, “Repeat after me.”

And childishly, you instantly respond with, “repeat after me.”

A smile breaks out over his face, beautiful and raw, “hey!” he tries to admonish.

“Hey!” you say back.

And he laughs, full and bursting, so sweet that it tumbles uninhibited from his mouth. And just as he told you, you repeat the sound with your own bubble of giggles.

(You look back at this memory and ache, a twist in your chest that might be your heart all knotted up. Or might just be the bitterness, after all.)

He takes a deep breath to steady himself.

“I will always have you.” He decides to say and you’ll wonder about it forever. What possessed such a young boy to say such a thing? Was he already so lonely? So desperate?

Is the start of your curse? Did he curse you? Or did you curse him? maybe it is your fault when you repeat slowly;

“I will always have you.”

“You will always have me.” He presses.

You inhale a little sharp and quick, but repeat it, as easy as breathing, as natural as the sun in the sky or the rocks on the ground;

(Later, when the binding vow is made between the two of you, Satoru derails from the clan’s perfectly laid script to form his own.

And he says it again.

And you repeat it again.

And his mother hisses at him and your mother gasps, your father curses colorfully.

But you finish the vow and it’s just the pair of you, you think, in a new world. It’s just the pair of you, you think, who could ever understand this.

It’s just your small voice, repeating his, sinking a vow into the ocean between you to never be found again by anyone else’s hands or eyes or thoughts.

It’s just your small voice and his and the creation of a new religion,)

“You will always have me.”

***

As children, you and Satoru are allowed to see each other every few weeks, which dwindles to every few days, before suddenly you see him nearly all the time.

At first, things were rocky. Despite the initial vow, Satoru is strange and tormenting. He pulls at your clothes and you scream at him. He takes your toys and you want to bite him. He makes you cry and cry and cry.

He keeps up his infinity for you, so that you can get close but never touching.

And he’s yours. All yours. And no matter how angry you get or how upset he gets, you always end up back together. You always know, you will always come back together.

Your mother looks after him. Your father despises him, each day presses and asks you to look into his future, each day your mother begs him to stop.

Satoru’s mother despises you, but she still looks after you, like a hawk, a little too closely when you’re around her son. You think you hardly see his father.

But you grow up running through gardens and past curses, following after Satoru, coming up against his side. Being chased by him, too, until you're laughing and out of breath. All yours. All his.

Godlings, you run together, and the world grows, and so do you.

***

By twelve, you have mastered your technique enough to lose your gloves. To touch and not be ripped into the past, into the future. You control when you want to peer into both, and learn that you don’t have to be sucked into the riptide of time, but rather wade into it as an observer.

Your training is specific to your clan, woven in its own history.

There is an amulet passed down in your family, one that has gone unworn for nearly one hundred years before you.

But now it dangles in front of you, shimmering silver, cut through with arcs of gold. The sun and the moon. Past and present. Your eyes reflected back to you in a stone.

“This,” your father begins, “holds all you need to know. No one else can peer into it, except those with Hindsight. With it, the previous users will teach about time. They will teach you what it means to be a keeper of time, how to use it to benefit you, to not let it drive you mad. Once you touch the amulet, it will show you its memories, the memories of previous users’ who always wore it.”

You eye the amulet. You have a question on the tip of your tongue but you know instantly your father won’t understand. He won’t be able to answer it.

Regardless, your father says, sharper, to make sure you’re listening, “and now you’ll always wear it. Do you understand? Everything you learn about time, about these techniques, will be passed on to the next, too.”

You nod, even if you don’t want to agree.

Your father smiles proudly, “good. Turn around.”

You turn around. He wraps the necklace around you, allowing the amulet to lay flat against the hollow of your throat, feeling it hum along your skin.

“Peer into its past.” He instructs.

You lift your hand up to grasp hold of it. The past is just a blink away but the future…

It sings to you.

You glance at your father, just a flick of your eyes that he regards with impatience. “Do I need to tell you again?”

“No, father.” You reply, but you’ve made up your mind.

Your vision spins sharply, pressure mounting in the corner of your eyes. Nausea rolls in a sickly circle inside of you. Time takes hold of your throat, wrestles you still, steals the noise of pain you were about to let out so it comes out as a mangled squawk.

Someone appears before you; before the amulet. They hold it up to them. It’s as if they’re holding you up, like your eyes are in the amulet.

“Finally,” they say, “I’ve found you.”

You are peering into the future at someone who is peering into the past at you. You feel their eyes. They must feel yours.

A shudder runs through you.

“Who are you?”

A ghost of a smile from a foggy face. It’s disorientating, trying to sharpen your vision. Dream-like, when you can’t quite grasp what you’re seeing, when you can’t run or speak or scream properly.

“You don’t recognize me?”

Their voice echoes in all the distant parts of your mind, buzzes strangely, what you think divinity might sound like if it had a voice.

“I can’t–I can’t see you clearly yet.” You respond slowly, pushing the words out like molasses to drip down your jaw, sticky in your mouth.

“Hm,” they hum, “still learning, I suppose. I remember.”

“T-teach me,” you get out. “You’re supposed to teach me.”

Another smile, you can feel it, this one wider, fuller. Teeth flash. Eyes spark like lightning. A shiver rips through you.

“I will teach you,” they say slowly, “I will certainly teach you. Not what you’re expecting to learn, not what you will ever be prepared to have, but I will do so anyways.”

You begin to tremble. “Why? W-what will you teach me?”

I don’t want to learn, you think suddenly and so unbridled it terrifies you, I don’t want to know, you feel it deep in your bones. You’re certain your life would be simpler if you never know. You feel an axis shift in this conversation, you can feel time changing, you can feel your whole world transforming before your very eyes.

The change of your heart is as great as the change of seasons.

And the form leans down, closer, as their voice drops to a murmur, all honey and thorns, the promise of something far greater than you. A storm to come. The future that you will bear upon the slant of your shoulders. And when they speak, you know they’ve cursed you;

“I will teach you how to make a God.”

***

Masterlist | Chapter One: Swallow ->

#gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #gojo x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #cielo’s writing #cielo writes #godmaker

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i-sveikata · 4 months

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Tbh i understand pete, the beginning of their relationship wasn't normal or easy at all so him struggling to bottom made sense to me but as you said that he thinks Vegas will get bored eventually if pete will stop challenging him, i think i get where he's coming from , i mean we do know that Vegas loved to see pete resist and fight himself and that's what pete thinks too, that this push and pull game will keep Vegas hooked somehow, but I can't wait for him to let his guards down completely because boy you dont know how Vegas loves to see you taking initiatives and letting loose and enjoying yourself ngl Vegas loves everything pete does that man is down bad I love him so yeah I cannnottt wait for both of you to go all out and fuck

Also by any luck are we getting a chapter update tomorrow? No pressure I am just curious jfhsjdj you won't believe I actually do arrange my schedule acc to the chapter on update days lmaooooo

yeah exactly!!!! like these are the walls he first put up to protect himself and it would be such a huge undertaking for him to take them down now around vegas (esp because it twinges against petes very real hang ups about letting vegas win/ getting what he wants)

yes i think its been left so long now that pete is building it up/ combining a lot of his fears into the act of bottoming in his head- like if he says yes what if vegas repeats more of the horrible things he first said to pete about him obviously wanting it when he was a prisoner, finally confirming it as true? and if vegas wants it so bad is it still that aggravating win for him if he gets it? even if pete might want to try and reexperience it in a new way too? and what if things do change and he loses his power over vegas by giving up that last thing to him? what if vegas grows bored of the pete thats fully accepting of his wants and needs? what if its not a challenge anymore once hes decided hes won? and what if more of vegas dominating side comes out again when hes topping pete? what if he takes complete control again?

like obvs these are really valid fears but a lot of its now is sort of revolving around the fact that if pete lets this get any deeper hes giving vegas the power to hurt him (not physically of course but like emotionally- which he figured out can go badly when vegas nearly died in front of him and the idea of losing him got pete in a total panic) and thats a really big deal for pete. and which hes still trying to decide is actually worth it to open himself up to- the idea of love and loss. so its really so much beyond completely relaxing his guard for vegas. its conceding to the idea of needing him. of wanting him. of being afraid of losing him too.

but yeah honestly pete has a lot of things holding him back from going further atm- no matter how many ways hes sort of passively going along with and both outright asserting himself as part of a romantic relationship with vegas. its still all so messy in his head no matter what his feelings and attraction are. so pete is afraid of being vulnerable like that again but especially about not being in control of his own body/ vegas being in control of his body and these are all things he has to work through. but yeah youre absolutely right he doesnt realise that his fears are totally unfounded and vegas is down bad for him (and is going to absolutely lose his mind when pete starts taking initiative and being even more open about his needs) and they are absolutely going to go nuts on the sex front once they finally reach that much needed equilibrium haha.

it's actually looking less likely that i'm going to post tonight unfortunately!!! the chap editing is taking a hell of a lot longer than i expected and im honestly going to just run out of time before bed (and a girly has gotta sleep) so im guessing it'll be either tomorrow or day after- depending how the editing wraps up. (also lol @ me saying i dont post on weekdays and then immediately proving myself wrong im a clown :) )

#fic asks #ill fill the graveyards until i have you

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larcenywrites · 1 year

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hi! in case you're taking requests + feel like writing it, could ya write some headcanons on like how young!Tony and/or "regular" Tony would react to his girl using their safeword for the first time? maybe she like just got a bit overwhelmed with rough sex after a long day or something? just like really nothing dark lol, just ya know idk feel free to ignore this really, idk if I'm even making sense here aaaaa

Haha I know where you're coming from 😆 It's more of a little drabble, but I did one for each and both are a little different! I've thought about this before tbh, especially with younger Tony because he definitely won't have any prior experience in this and would probably handle it with a lot more panic lol

Safe Word

Warnings: 18+ | short but rough sex scenes + overstimulation (but only one is the sexy kind) | mention of light bondage | like one line of degradation/dirty talk | aftercare

young!Tony Stark

You weren't even sure how long he'd been going like this, pounding into you from the start without so much as a warning. Wet teeth bit undecidedly between your shoulder and the softer flesh of your neck, and fingers dug harshly into your waist as if he needed to hold you there. You were already trapped under him, chest to chest and pressed so tightly between him and the mattress that you could hardly catch any breath. What breaths you did catch were lost into his shoulder, panted between mewls. You held onto him so tightly to feel better, but better never came. This time, the soft curls between your fingers and the skin beneath your nails weren't so inviting, but it wasn't anyone's fault.

It was a lot, especially when you were still sensitive and sore from last night, and your day had already been spent on your wit's end. While you've probably let him choke the breath from your lungs before and usually enjoyed his heavy weight pinning you down, the current arrangement sent a bolt of panic through your chest. You weren't sure what he just growled against your throat, but for once it wasn't the tone you needed.

"Tony, wait- wait," you started, voice close to your usual strangled moan. There was an unsure faltering of his pistoning hips, probably confused between the clash of your tone and your words. The two of you experiment with a lot of new games, after all. "Stop," you reiterated breathlessly with as stern a tone as you could muster in this state, pushing at his shoulders and rolling your head away from him.

You'd never told him to stop before.

He stopped, still inside you, and tore away from his spot in the crook of your neck. He let go of your waist to sit up on the palms of his hands, not knowing your relief at the extra breathing room he was giving you. Blown-out pupils drifted over you carefully, still processing the palms weakly pushing into his shoulders with fingers spread and straight to keep from touching him fully. You were panting, turned away from him and eyes closed.

He was practically vibrating with the rush of anxious adrenaline, mind racing behind wide eyes. He finally processed what had happened when he felt relief at the slowing rise and fall of your chest. Without a word, he carefully pulled out of you, nearly recoiling out of his skin when you flinched. He wasn't sure if he should touch you, or what to say. He stepped off the bed as quietly as he could, standing around a bit awkwardly with hunched shoulders. What did he do wrong? Did he hurt you? He's never fucked up this bad before.

He reached out, fingers brushing over one of your raised hands, propped up on your elbow. When you didn't flinch away, he took your hand in his. He couldn't tell if you were shaking, too, or if it was just him.

"I'm sorry," you blurted out quietly without thinking, still looking away.

"No, it's okay," he replied just as meekly with a shake of his head. "Did I do something?" It was your turn to shake your head "no".

"I think it was just a lot," you said shyly. "My day was rough enough, you know," you joked with a shaky laugh. It was enough to ease his nerves a little, able to will himself to run a hand through your hair a few times and caress your cheek when you finally looked at him. He forced a smile in response to your encouraging one. He didn't feel as okay as you were letting him know it was, but he got the message.

Just as he had been nervous to be near you, now he was nervous to leave. He assured you that he'd be right back as if you were a nervous puppy, or maybe he was the nervous puppy needing to assure himself. Either way, he reluctantly let go of your hand after a few more seconds and found his way into the bathroom, shortly returning with a damp rag. Usually he liked to tease you all over again during this part, but he was almost too gentle. The parting kiss he always gave your knee was fleeting and light.

You watched him slide on a pair of sweats before he exited the room, and you took the opportunity to slide under the covers. Tony's absence wasn't any more comforting, either, and you were relieved when he came back in. And with two thoughtful glasses of water in hand, one for each nightstand.

You watched him slowly make his way under the sheets with you, rolling onto his stomach and tucking his hands under the pillow he halfway hid in. He looked over at you, eyes still wide but wanting, obviously too scared to reach out. You took the initiative, shuffling over and innocently pecking his shoulder. Even with his expression still unsure, he rolled onto his side, arm raised to welcome you into the safety of his chest.

You were both a bit shaken up. Limits were something new and uncharted, so neither of you could have known, but maybe you could make things a little easier next time with a simple word, and maybe communicate a little better about when it is and isn't a good time for a rough session.

Tony Stark

"Are you my tight little slut?" He snarled, lips right at your ear and huffing hot breaths with the effort of fucking into you so roughly. A hand on the side of your face kept you pressed to his. Your wrists rolled in their restraints above your head. Your nails digging into your palm only made it worse, so you flexed your fingers instead. You didn't think you could answer if you tried, far too tired from the hard orgasms he'd forced out before he'd even entered you, and even your arms were shaking from the strain of being tied up for so long now. At this point, you really didn't even know if you had another one left in you. He'd pushed you far before, but this time his spearing tip was starting to send pangs of soreness radiating through your belly, and that usual pressure was building into nothing, too squirted dry for any release. It was a new burn of frustration that, for the first time, was far from pleasurable, and he only kept on bothering the sweet spots that were no longer so sweet.

And neither was he.

"When I ask you a question, you answer," he growled again, harshly bottoming out and holding still. The heaviness pressing so deep against your end gave you the energy to answer him in a cry, but it wasn't the word he was expecting. This was why he was always so wary of gags, and always watched you so carefully when you tied you up and fucked your throat. He always kept it in the back of his mind, but this was the first time he heard it. He prepared for it to happen one day, but the panic that shot through his heart still hurt, as well as the guilt that settled in the hole it left. He slowly backed off, the hand on your face no longer so tense and now looking down at you. A thumb caressed over your cheek before delicate fingers moved to take care of stray wisps of hair that he'd probably caused at some point.

Your eyes were screwed shut, but you felt him working at your restraints, pulling them from around your wrists and tossing it to the ground with a thud that made you jump slightly. And it didn't help that he was still inside you, softer at least. His hands were calloused, but they softly took your hands in his, bringing them up to his lips. You gulped at the gentleness of lingering kisses to the marks that circled your wrists. One hand let go, instead petting over your hair again with a much needed sweetness in his voice. "(Y/N), honey, are you okay?"

Tony's hand was on your cheek again, gently angling you to look up at him. You gave yourself a few seconds to answer. There were no demanding snarls this time in the absence of your voice, only patient eyes of concern when you finally opened yours. You slowly nodded against his palm. His only answer was a thumb rubbing over your cheek and a heavy sigh of either guilt or relief. He finally eased out of you, the burn of his leave probably much better now that he was soft, but you still grimaced nonetheless. Had this been a part of a scene or one of your games, he would have loved to affectionately shush you with lips on your cheek and tell you all about how good you did for him in a low voice, but he wasn't quite sure if it was still the time for that. Instead, he got to work, quickly cleaning himself so he could get back to you. He stood next to you, burying his face in your chest while he expertly wiped you down with that warm cloth. He quietly shushed you when you flinched, jaw tightening at the feeling of your fingers carding through his hair. They tried to stay there even when he finally rose from your chest, sliding over his shoulders and disappointingly onto the bed when he backed away.

The wet puddle you'd made was turning cold beneath you, and had you feeling a little grimy the longer you sat in it. Luckily, Tony was back by your side to save the day easing his arms around you and carefully resting you on the small sofa across the room. You huddled into yourself as you watched him clean up, replacing the contrasting white and dark sheets and tossing the used pile near the hamper to be dealt with later. He was just as eager to have you back in his arms as you were eager to be back in them.

You were carried back to the bed and lovingly tucked under the covers as if you couldn't have done it yourself. Well, you might not have had the strength to, honestly. He quickly joined you, arms back around you in an instant and hands drifting shapes along your spine. You tucked yourself under his chin, finally smiling when he placed a chaste kiss to your head.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, playing his fingers through your hair.

You slightly shook your head. "It's okay," you whispered, matching the quiet that had so suddenly settled in the room. "I still love you."

He huffed a short laugh at your teasing. It eased his nerves a little more, hopefully enough to follow you into sleep. "I love you, too."

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