ᅠᅠ ೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 사랑 𑣲 being cuddly with the female harbingers⠀ᰋ .ᐟ 𝑓𝑒𝑚! reader ★ 𝗰𝘄. none 𝐢𝐢 ♡ 𝖮489
📎 ୧ ꒰ ﹒fluffy , sandrone is a bit tsundere-y , very short , headcanons﹒ ꒱ 𝐢 𝑡ags ⋮ ✶⋆ 𝒇iles
ּ֯ . ❥ ּ֯ ┆꒰ arlecchino .ᐟ ꒱
ᅠ❤︎ᅠ arlecchino wasn't a cuddly person. like at all. if she ever cuddled someone it was probably during the time she was a kid and because another kid forced her to do it. but nowadays? impossible. never heard of it. or that's what people usually though about the knave.
ᅠ❤︎ᅠ okay, she still wasn't really fond of cuddles, but she couldn't say no to you. you're her only exception when it comes to these things, and cuddling is no better.
ᅠ❤︎ᅠ arlecchino pretends to hate how cuddly you are—and thankfully you know she isn't serious, because she wouldn't like to apologize each time she said something like that—only to get to bed with you.
ᅠ❤︎ᅠ her favorite spot to cuddle is on bed, where there's no one else that could see her like that, while also being able to totally wrap herself around you, or vice versa, in complete silence.
ᅠ❤︎ᅠ sometimes, even if she wouldn't admit it, arlecchino craved your cuddles every now and then, when work would get too much of her or when the abyss power felt too strong in her body.
ּ֯ . ❥ ּ֯ ┆꒰ sandrone .ᐟ ꒱
ᅠ❤︎ᅠ sandrone is too stubborn to even let you cuddle her at first. if she let you get close to her enough to hold her hand, congratulations, because that's almost impossible with how she is.
ᅠ❤︎ᅠ but after a long, long while being close with sandrone, she might let you begin to slowly get more bold with your actions, such as leaning your head on her shoulder while she works without complaining—apart from a single huff.
ᅠ❤︎ᅠ she tries to not be too mean since she knows how much you love her, but it's hard knowing how that's her natural way of being. fortunately, you don't care much. if anything, you find it a bit cute at how sandrone can barely get a compliment without getting flustered and instantly trying to change to the subject.
ᅠ❤︎ᅠ when she has rough and tiring days, sandrone might actually initiate contact. but don't you dare mention it out loud because she will leave and not do that again for the next two weeks!
ּ֯ . ❥ ּ֯ ┆꒰ columbina .ᐟ ꒱
ᅠ❤︎ᅠ if you want someone who would always accept cuddles no matter the circumstances, columbina is the best person for that. at first she didn't really understand how just being physically close to one another would be nice, but after a few times cuddling you, she begun to understand.
ᅠ❤︎ᅠ she doesn't mind your clinginess at all! columbina thinks that having someone so close to her might help her learn more on how to properly act around other people.
ᅠ❤︎ᅠ her new favorite time is when she's feeling tired and decides that you are an amazing pillow, just leaning herself on top of your body to rest for the next hours. you better get used to having a girl sleeping on you for a long, long time.
hi!!! i hope you’re having a good day! could i please request the harbingers with a pillow princess/prince? (gender is up to you!) whichever format you feel like :)
𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰/ 𝐬𝐮𝐛!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
featuring: pierro, scaramouche, pantalone, childe, dottore, capitano x f!reader (separately)
tea’s note: thank you, i hope you had an amazing day with minimal stress and lots of rest and hydration! i also like the way you think >:), pls enjoy <3
𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨 “𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫”
pierro heaves a heavy sigh as he sinks fully into you, your juices leaking around his thick shaft as you cum again for the fifth time that night. “one more for me, baby, just like that,” his rough fingers coming down to rub your clit. your overstimulated mind blank as you wriggle in his hold, body aching for a respite from his touch. “now, now, why are you trying to run? i’m giving you exactly what you want,” he sounds disappointed. you whine, clawing at his arms, leaving angry red lines over his forearms. “be a good girl like always and stay still,” pierro growls, emphasizing his point by capturing your wrists in one big hand and holding them above your head. your foggy mind registers his words, nodding frantically as tears slip out of your eyes. his fat cock bullies into your tight hole ruthlessly. with your back arching and toes curling, the temperature in the room rises. you cry his name pleadingly. pleading for what? you’re not sure. his pace increases and his grip on you tightens, signaling he’s close. “i’m going to fill you up now, pretty baby, and you’re going to take all of it,” his sweet tone contradicts his brutal thrusts. he leans down to kiss your neck, and when he bites down, pushing in all the way to the hilt, he paints your insides white, and you see stars.
𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞 “𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐫”
“so pathetic, begging for cock like a slut,” scaramouche taunts, fingers pumping into your mouth. “i bet that even though one hole is getting plugged right now, it’s still not enough for my needy little baby. am i right?” scaramouche pulls his fingers out of your mouth and grabs your cheeks, squishing them together to open your lips. you stare up at him through hooded eyelids, ashamed. “even though you were practically whoring yourself out to childe and dottore earlier, i will forgive you because i know you love only me.” he leans over you, spitting directly into your mouth. he leans back smirking and proud of his work. you swallow all of it, looking up at him expectantly. scaramouche loosens his hold on your jaw, “speak.” you’re thankful for his permission, and look timidly up at him, “sir, please i n-need to feel you.” scaramouche raises an eyebrow and laughs in your face. “you think you’re in any position to be making requests? no, silly girl, that’s not how this works. you will take what i give you and you will thank me,” scara shakes his head sympathetically as his other hand runs down your body and begins toying with your entrance. he chuckles, “you’re so wet, does the thought of me having my with you excite you this much?” you smile at him as he brings his coated fingers to your mouth, “good girl. now clean up your mess.”
𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 “𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫”
a choked sob escapes your lips as pantalone’s large hand presses your face down harder into the soft sheets of his bed, deepening the arch of your back deliciously. he mercilessly rams into you from behind, savoring your cries. “mmm, you look so good like this, darling,” pantalone purrs, “feel so good, too.” the squelches of pantalone burying his cock into your warm folds permeate the air, further turning you on. “listen to how well this messy cunt takes me,” pantalone drags your hips back as he thrusts forward, causing his tip to hit further into you. you claw at the sheets as his hand lands a sharp slap on your ass. pantalone shushes you impatiently, “you know you want this as much as i do, if not more. now be still, darling, i’ll treat you right.” his soothing words swim around your mind, but never quite stick. “you’re doing so good, my love. how could i get so lucky to have an angel like you?” he leans forward and kisses your temple, still pounding into you, not letting you catch a single break. “just a little longer, baby, can you do that for me?” he doesn’t wait for a response as he feels your walls spasm around him, milking him greedily. he groans and his hips stutter before he finally bottoms out, filling you to the brim. he collapses on top of you. “see? that wasn’t so bad.”
𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐚 “𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞”
childe kisses up your thigh, leaving bites and bruises as he travels to the spot you need him most. he stops right before he reaches your core and looks up at you from between your legs. his eyes devour your needy expression, eyebrows furrowed, bottom lip caught between your teeth. “is this what my pretty girl wants right now?” childe coos, wrapping his arms around your thighs to keep them in place. he places a chaste kiss on your clit that already has your hips bucking to meet his face. “fuck, you taste so good. hold on tight, baby. once i start, i won’t be able to hold myself back.” he licks his lips one last time before diving between your thighs, warm tongue lapping at your folds and drinking in your essence like he was parched. childe wraps his lips around your clit, sucking harshly. pornographic moans spill out of you as you thrash under him, childe barely react, his fingers only tightening their grip on you. he gets lost in your taste, tongue running up to your clit before circling back down to tease your sopping hole. you throw your head back, too overwhelmed by his ministrations to focus on anything but him. your hands fly to his hair when his tongue pushes into you, and you tug hard. he moans into your slit and pulls you closer by your thighs, his mouth flush against your cunt as your back arches and you release all over his face.
𝐢𝐥 𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞 “𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫”
you’re tied up and gagged on dottore’s desk, as he sits in his chair doing work beside you. you’re on your back with your forearms roped together under you, creating an intense arch. dottore’s fingers work in and out of you as he jots notes down with the other hand, paying you no mind. soft cries muffled by the gag and drool is smeared across your lips. your noises beg dottore to pay attention to you, but he clicks his tongue, “you little tease, are you trying to get us caught? even after the gag you’re still making such a fuss.” he curls his fingers against your spongy spot and your hips tremble at his touch. “although, you’re probably into that, right? you want my boss to walk in so i can share you with him?” your hole flutters around his fingers, and dottore’s smirk grows wider. “of course my filthy baby wants that,” he snickers. “should i call him up right now and ask him to join us?” you shake your head and stare up at him with pleading eyes. dottore removes your gag, gripping your chin so the only thing you can look at is him. “you can’t call him in here,” you mutter shyly. “and why is that?” dottore pumps his fingers into you quicker. “b-because i’m only yours,” you blink innocently up at him. dottore kisses your lips before replacing your gag, fingers digging deeper into you. “at least my precious bimbo knows her place.”
𝐢𝐥 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐨 “𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧”
you straddle capitano’s lap with your arms wrapped behind his head as your tongues explore each other's mouth. he twists his tongue against yours and you whimper, your hips accidentally grinding on the growing bulge in his pants. he groans as his hands travel under your shirt to squeeze your breasts, fingers running over your sensitive buds. you press your chest into him harder, your hands finding his. you guide his fingers to your pants, begging through actions. his fingers work quickly to remove your pants and panties to leave you bare against him. he untucks his heavy cock, letting it rest on his stomach. his hands rest on your hips as he moves you back and forth on him. your sloppy pussy drenches his shaft in your juices, and when he plunges into you he slides in with ease. you’re helpless and limp as capitano works you up and down onto him solely keeping you up with his strength. his hips jerk up as he pulls you down, forcing his head to kiss the innermost parts of you. your hands dig into his shoulders, nails leaving angry, red crescents, as you try to brace yourself as he sheathes himself harshly into you. your cunt sucks him in and he’s hooked, his hips buck up causing your slick to coat both your and his thighs. capitano’s twitching cock drags through your tight walls, brushing over your tender spots. “you feel so good, baby,” he grunts, jaw clenching. “i’m close already. you drive me so crazy, pretty girl, this is what you do to me.”
I'm not sure if this was done before, but I would love to know how Pantalone would react if his lover suddenly received a vision out of nowhere (angst with a happy ending) 👀👀👀 no pressure though! 🫶
👀👀👀 indeed! first his business partner creates a god and then his partner gets a vision poor guy can't catch a break
Pantalone x reader | Vision
angst | 0.7k | gn!reader
As if he needed more on his plate… The sentiment doesn’t reach his eyes or body language, despite what the recruit in front of him seems to expect. The youngster is all but twitching to cower, even if Pantalone merely remains sitting behind his desk. He sends the pathetic soul away and only when he’s alone does he light up a cigarette and takes a long drag. He should have enough time to smoke one before you arrive.
A vision, huh? He huffs, his lips curling bitterly at the irony. If the news that reached him were right, you must be especially anxious. The idea is enough to settle the simmering frustration he feels, though he’s not exactly sure what the feeling is aimed at - you, the celestials, himself, or maybe just the pile of paperwork cluttering his desk. He sure would appreciate to avoid the inevitable personal drama, if only so he can remain unbothered while he’s already busy. However, he’s not so cruel - not towards you anyway.
And so when he hears your familiar footsteps stop in front of his door, he invites you in before you can knock. Pantalone’s expectations are exceeded. You look even more of a mess than he imagined, which is both a little charming and insulting. He won’t fault you for it, he’s sure your morning’s been stressful enough as is.
He motions for you to come closer and turns his palm up towards you. You hand him the golden amulet and you both watch as the golden light fades and disappears. He turns the item over in his hand. It might as well be just another piece of mora, absolutely worthless in the face of his lacking ambition. Or perhaps his disdain for the rules of this world. Whatever the case, it hardly matters. He’s not one of the favored, a fact which remained unchanged through the centuries. Plenty of time to adjust and make the burning flame of emotions inside of him into a fuel for the ambition that drives him forward.
Perhaps unnerved by his silence, you start talking about the circumstances preceding the manifestation of the vision. He hums thoughtfully and hands you the thing back. It comes alive like a struck match. You barely stop yourself from flinching. Pantalone chuckles.
“You seem particularly on edge,” his hands come together, his chin rests on his intertwined fingers. He’s not sure his mirth reaches his eyes, more likely not. Seeing the amber-like glow of geo under your clothes is ticking him off. He’ll have thicker fabric ordered for your new jacket. You deserve a new one anyway.
“What does it mean for us?” you cut to the chase, “Us. I suppose my value as your pawn has appreciated, you don’t need to tell me.”
He laughs again. Once more he’s not sure you can sense his amusement - he makes it a rule to avoid expressing himself too much when he’s working - but truly, you seem to be taking this more seriously than he thought.
“Oh my, how have you grown,” his lips smile in a more genuine way, his eyes crinkle. He hopes it’s enough of a reassurance. “You’re right of course.”
Studying you for a moment, he recognizes you’re waiting for a more satisfactory answer.
“We do not get to choose the cards we’re dealt,” he hums, “But these kinds of topics aren’t fit for the office, are they?”
His lips twitch up again upon seeing the tension in your shoulders somehow growing and relaxing at the same time.
“I apologize,” you murmur.
“I’ll let it slide this time,” he huffs, “Consider it a congratulatory gift.”
Pantalone watches with small glee as another flicker of panic crosses your face before it settles into embarrassment and uncertainty. You bow before you leave, both of you shrugging the coats of professionalism back on.
He heaves a long sigh and lights another cigarette. How odd. He doesn’t feel any spike in his emotions that he’d need to soothe with nicotine. That is sure to change once he goes back to the paperwork, but for now he remains calm. As undisturbed as the smoke rising towards the ceiling. It’s just another day, another variable in the experiment as the dear doctor would say.
Perhaps he should be glad that one of his assets has gained value, yet Pantalone can’t find it in himself. Nor does he find any resentment, at least for the time being. No, what he feels is the temptation to find you and show you that you’re desired by his side still.
He laughs in the empty room. Maybe that’s the best case scenario.
"I'm aware." He says that with the finality of a man who is not going to do anything about it, injured arm shaking faintly as he tries to adjust the rifle in his hand into a less pain-inducing position while still maintaning a decent aim.
This guy!
You want to rip your hair from your scalp, and you would've, if not for the fact that it is the one thing keeping your brain from taking continuous freeze damage amidst this snowstorm.
This was meant to be a cute little "hunting" date; a swift in and out, two bullets, less than thirty minutes, and a nice drink on the way to reward your efforts.
But the weather had different plans, and the only "in" you did was get into this unexpected snowstorm that just happened to start when you were trying to fend off a wild beast. One thing led to another, and now your companion has one ugly gnash arcoss his arm that will surely affect the success of your mission.
And honestly? The only "out" you want right now is away from this blizzard and into the warm blankets in your bed in your cozy little cabin. Preferably with your stubborn boyfriend cuddling to you eagerly, with all his wounds cleaned and bandaged up.
The only problem with this train of thoughts is that said boyfriend still insists on continuing with the mission despite having his most important instrument, his hand, damaged before you two could even reach the target's location.
"You can't aim well with your hand like this." You try again, if not for your sake, then for poor Tugarin and all the petting he will be missing on if Alyosha fucks up his arm from this. "You will miss the target."
"Who said I would be doing the shooting?" He tilts his head at you in that adorable puppy-like way. "Here. I was making sure it is still in good condition." The hunter casually hands you his most precious hunting tool, extending the rifle towards you with a shaky hand. "It seems I'll have to be the bait this time."
There is a resolute look in those big, mesmerizing eyes of his, and you still don't know if the sad puppy eyes are intentional or just his favorite trick to use. "Only if you let me bandage you properly first."
Thinking about giving Mitya head during work hours (mdni, fem! reader)
“Ahh…s-shit! Fuck…! Feels’ good…Haah…!” Mitya isn’t usually one to do this, not that he’s scared or anything. Just that he never really found the time to do it with you.
The heat and smell of sex was practically filling up his office, the air swirled with his groans and the sound of you taking his cock.
His cock was filling up your mouth, you bobbed your head up and down his cock. Mitya groaned, hands gripping your hair, fuck—your mouth felt so good, so warm.
You felt his hand pushing your head down slightly, making you wince as it hit the back of your throat. He called out your name, followed by a few profanities “So good for me, baby…Didn’t think—oh fuck…!”
He was relishing in the feeling of you swallowing his cock.
“Gods, just like that—take it deeper…!” Mitya gripped your hair, bobbing your head up and down his cock, taking him even more as your eyes rolled to the back.
You were growing wetter by the second. The vibrations of your moan, combined with the tightness of your throat was truly going to be the death of him.
Mitya looked down at you, your eyes teary and red but despite it all, you seemed to be enjoying it. He smirks, chuckling under his heavy breathing.
“Yeahhh, such a good fucking girl, taking my dick this deep—fuck….the sweetest, shit…!”
You’re so good to him, offering yourself like this even when he’s stressed about the numerous experiments he has to do.
His huge dick was turning you so bad that adrenaline was pumping in you faster than ever.
You continued sucking him off, pushing yourself to it and to ignore the feeling of being gagged. You let your boyfriend manhandle you, tugging at your hair for his own pleasure.
“Fuck-fuck…fuck…! I’m gonna cum-! Ohhh…Godddd…” He let his chin fall back down, jaw slack and eyes heavy.
“Babyyyy, you’re too good for me…fuck…” All the heavy workload that the Jester handed to him had been forgotten, replaced with the need to release deep in your throat.
His heavy hand pushed you to the base of his dick as hot ropes of cum shot down your throat. You swallowed them all up greedily “Fuckkkkk” Mitya whined, a tear forming in the corner of his eye from the overstimulation.
You pulled away from his dick, staring at him with your mouth slightly opened to show him.
Mitya groaned, his eyes narrowing at you with lust “Get on the desk, now” Lets hope no one hears you two fucking like wild bunnies.
⟡ | abstract: living in Snezhnaya had become harder as project stuzha progresses. as a humble hunter, making a living was difficult task. especially when a half-fae is found lying motionless out in the wild. sigh... how much mora was this gonna cost him...
⟡ | warnings: sfw, gun mention (obvi), TUGARIN MENTION!!!!, might be misspelling of alyosha's name (im dyslexic), reader is gender neutral and a half-fae human with arctic fox features, a SINGLE suggestive line, blood mentioned, hunting a moose, romantic tension~
the blizzard had died down a considerable amount since last night, alyosha thought as he put his rifle aside to look out the window. tugarin sat on his makeshift bed, sighing promptly.
"we should head out before the snow picks up again, boy," alyosha said as he went to grab his coat, pulling his hood over promptly as tugarin stood up and stretched. they quickly headed out, abandoning the warm cabin for the wilderness.
the wind was not nearly as bad as it was the day before, offering a gentle breeze that kept his temperature moderate. his eyes scanned out over the cliffside at the edge of sretomorozsk to observe the available wild game. most prey had likely sought shelter due to the storm, but every creature must leave their homes to find food eventually.
he slid down the cliff, tugarin following as they hid in some nearby brush that looked out upon the frozen landscape. the visibility wasn't amazing, but certainly better than no visibility at all. his scans noted no movement in the nearby area, so he and tugarin trudged further from the village. alyosha could feel the growl in his stomach grow, but until they found some kind of sustainable form of food, he had to ignore it.
the sun was rising from the east as morning turned to afternoon. it had been about an hour since they headed out, and they found very little wildlife that hadn't already been claimed by the storm or other predators. he was starting to get frustrated; most game had to come out at some point, so why was it so barren? not even the occasional fae gangs were spotted in their usual spots, which struck him as even weirder.
tugarin had no leads either, only being able to smell the decay of already rotten game. alyosha was about to give up for the day when tugarin's head snapped up, sniffing the air as he ran off.
"tugarin? what'd you find, boy?" alyosha questioned as he ran after his companion. as he typically relied on his companion's keen sense of smell, he knew tugarin had much better chances of sniffing something out than him seeing it. he hoped it was some kind of large game... something to feed him and tugarin for at least a week and maybe earn some mora off the pelt or extra meat.
man he could imagine it now, hot meat, nice soft bread, and some melty cheese... he could drool.
unfortunately... that was not the game that the wild had offered to him this time. tugarin stopped near a cliff about 500 meters north from sretomorozsk, digging at a pile of snow in attempt to get to something.
alyosha readied his rifle, making sure it was loaded before looking at the abnormally large pile of snow; it must have fallen from the cliff above. likely whatever tugarin's nose had picked up, it had to be something that was either crushed by the impact of the snow, or couldn't dig its way out.
easy game for a hunter, either way, he thought.
tugarin barked when a figure started to emerge from the snow, at first only fluffy-tuffed ears appeared, and alyosha thought it could be a fox. however, human-like hair appeared soon after, attached to the ears. alyosha thought then it could be a fae, likely associated with nearby gangs.
as tugarin continued to dig up the figure, alyosha soon realized it was not a fox, nor a full fae, but instead a half-fae half human. they were knocked out, and their lips were pale. however, as soon as their mouth was uncovered, small puffs of air rose into the air from their mouth as alyosha realized... oh they're alive. OH THEY'RE ALIVE!?
he quickly helped drag the figure out of the snow, revealing the figure fully. the white-tuffed ears on top of their head matched with the even fluffier white tail. he had only heard legends of fox-type fae, but they never mentioned a half-fae before. he took off his glove, placing his fingers against their freezing neck, he found their pulse was slow, but still active.
he sighed, taking in their clothes, the heavy snow jacket and pants meant that whoever this way, they knew the weather wasn't favorable without protective gear. however, usually fae don't become as fazed with the cold as much as humans did, so it was unusual to see similar clothes to his own. many questions ran through his mind, but they cut off as soon as the figure slightly stirred. he thought they might wake up, but they simply fell against the snow again, out cold.
alyosha sighed, knowing if he walked away right now, he would regret not helping this... person? fae? hybrid? ahh whatever... not important right now. even with his weakened strength, he hauled the body onto his back, beginning his trek back to the village as tugarin tried to help by holding onto the figure's backpack he found nearby. alyosha did not say much on the trek back, focusing all of his strength into carrying this stranger back to his cabin. he had found many people out in the wild before, but most of them were beyond saving by that point. he always tried to help them, but it usually ended with him notifying the local fatui of the incident.
the trek felt even longer as he had to go the long way around to be able to drag the figure back to his cabin safely. many of his neighbors noticed him and tried to ask what happened, but he simply said nothing and just continued on, too tired to engage with anything non-essential.
once he arrived at the cabin, he gently set down the individual on his bed, placing them in a resting position as he tried to take off the wet outer layers. he felt a bit embarrassed, but he knew they would only become worse if he did nothing. however, he was very much a gentleman and did not take off anything revealing, despite them also being slightly damp. he placed one of his blankets over top of them and brought a lamp to the bedside table to attempt to provide some extra warmth. hanging up the clothes by the fireplace and started one with the firewood he had stored.
once all he could do was done, he sat back down in his chair, sighing as he held his head in his hand. not only did he not find any game, but he gained an extra mouth that he would likely need to find some kind of warm food for to keep them alive. while most neighbors were generous, food was scarce, and they weren't likely to just give up rations for a stranger on the brink of frostbite. he groaned and tilted his head back before hearing rumaging. he looked at tugarin and realized he was digging through the figure's bag.
"tugarin! sit! out!" he tried to say, but tugarin had already dragged out a sausage link from the bag and downed it before alyosha could do anything.
"tugarin! that was not ours. i would have gotten you something." alyosha said before picking up the bag. however, more links fell out of the bag and onto the floor. alyosha looked at the excessive amounts of sausages and licked his lips as tugarin gobbled up the ones that fell. well... maybe one wouldn't hurt... after all, he did save this person, and it seems like they had plenty to share...
oh archons above, may this not affect his karma, but it's a dog-eat-dog world out there, and he was starving. he brought the bag over to the fireplace and began grilling a sausage over the fire. the smell filled the cabin as alyosha ate just a fewww sausages (tugarin also may have had another). he was so lost in the sausage game that he hadn't realized the rustling coming from the bed immediately.
although the mumbling from the bed drew his attention, and he turned his gaze to see the figure sitting up in bed, holding their head as they tried to gain their bearings. they smelt the air and moaned slightly, licking their lips as they opened their eyes to look over at the source of the smell.
only to snap wide open when they realized they were in a different location than they last remembered. they look around the cabin before settling on alyosha, more specifically, him grilling sausage. they looked over and saw their bag, which was once full but was now almost empty. they growled and turned their attention back to him, baring their fangs.
"did you steal my food?! give me that!" they said, trying to get up and out of the bed towards alyosha, but falling harshly onto the floor beside the bed after feeling like their legs had been turned to jelly.
"woah woah, i only took my payment for saving your life. you would have died if i hadn't found you in that snow pile." tugarin barked at alyosha, seemingly annoyed. "okay, if he hadn't found you in that snow pile." tugarin sneezed after that, seemingly pleased with the correction.
the figure looked between the dog and the hunter, confusion on their face. a spike of pain rushed through their skull as they held it.
"ugh... what exactly happened? i only remember after robbin-- i mean, finding a stash of sausages along the cliffside- and then there was this large rumble, and everything was suddenly really dark... until now," they said, realizing they were freezing cold as their head began to spin. "ugh, i don't feel good at all..."
"found you under a snowpile, must have been a landslide and you were unfortunate enough to be at the base of it. we found you and dragged you back to sretomorozsk. you made me miss out on my game so i'm just taking what i'm owed," alyosha said, pulling the freshly grilled sausage off the fire and walking over to the figure. he knelt down and offered the sausage on a stick to them. they glared at him promptly, examining the sausage before sniffing it. nothing dangerous on it, they sensed, and silently snatched the stick from alyosha.
they didn't waste any time, scarfing the sausage down, making alyosha's eyes widen slightly. they must have been hungry as well. he smiled gently before reaching his hand out to them.
"come on, you're still freezing. let's get you by the fire." he said, his warm eyes gazing into their own as they couldn't help the small wag of their tail and the increase in their heart rate. he noticed the movement, but decided to not say anything, but he felt his smile grow slightly. they reached their hand out to him, and he helped them up, guiding them to the cushion by the fire.
"now since i saved your life, maybe you can answer some questions like... your name and how you even got in that situation? also it might be good to expand on... what you are?" he said, glancing at their exotic features before sitting back in the chair and rocking gently.
they stare at the fire for a moment, the glow of the flames illuminating their face as they turn towards him.
"i am a kuma; we're a... special type of fae. not fully human, but not fully fae. half fox, half human specifically. we don't usually show our faces, and ever since the civil war, we have refused to integrate back into human and fae society." the figure said, trying to note his reactions as he nods slightly.
"and your name?" he asks simply, no signals detailing how their previous information affected him.
"_____" they said, pulling the blanket around them closer. "what's yours?" they say, glancing at him from the corner of their eye.
"alyosha, and this is my hunting companion and your saving grace, turgarin." alyosha says, motioning his hand to tugarin, who was bellyside up with his tongue falling out of his mouth as he slept peacefully.
the figure nodded slightly, looking back at alyosha as they turned their head to the side, their ears following.
"why did you save me if i may ask? not many humans or fae would have dared going through all that trouble for a stranger." they asked, nibbling on another sausage that alyosha had handed them.
he pondered for a moment, looking at the fire.
"i once saved an adventurer, and in return, they helped me out in my time of need. maybe i'm just meant to be a search and rescuer, looking to continue doing good deeds for others," he simply said, not elaborating any further. the figure just nodded, and they fell into a comfortable silence, the fire and occasional snores filling the gaps.
it had been a week since you first arrived at alyosha's cabin, and to say you found any and everyway to repay your debt to him would not be an understatement.
once you had regained your strength, you offered to help him and tugarin find some game. he raised his eyebrow at you, and you told him the extensive history behind how your kind's specialty was hunting. he scoffed, saying he would be the judge of that and accepted your offer.
to say he underestimated you however, was in fact an understatement, because his jaw dropped at how easily you had found and taken care of a large moose before he even had time to load his gun.
even though he had seen blood before, he couldn't contain the look of surprise (and a bit of horror) on his face when he saw you take down the large creature by leaping onto it's back and sinking your teeth into it's neck until it fell to the ground.
what disturbed him more was the way you looked so proud, happily wagging your tail as blood fell from your mouth.
he doesn't know if he should be scared, impressed... or turned on...
the both of you brought back the moose, only after he insisted on wiping your mouth of blood. you swatted his hand, saying it wasn't a big deal, but eventually you took the cloth from his hand and cleaned yourself. you grumbled while you did it, however.
"being covered in blood and coming back from your hunt successfully is one of the biggest sources of pride in my kind's opinion..." you had said, making him wonder if you were more human or fox.
however, he made some good mora off the hunt, as well as establishing a good food source for the next week. maybe you were useful after all.
another few days had passed, and you were back to peak condition. however, as the week had passed, you found yourself more reluctant to leave. on one hand, your kin was likely worried sick, on the other, you had just accidentally exposed the existence of your kind for the first time in almost two decades. your kin would not be pleased about that...
alyosha found you deep in thought outside, the wind blowing through your ears as you sat on the boxes with your backpack next to you. he sat down next to you, trying to gauge what you were thinking about.
"pardon me if this sounds rude, but don't you plan on heading back to your kind soon? they must be worried about you for being gone so long..." he said, an almost somber tone to his voice.
as much as he wanted to ignore the feeling that had grown in his chest the past week, he knew that he was enjoying your presence day in and day out. you may have been a bit strange at first, but he learned about your little quirks and found himself fondly looking back on the time you brutally took down a moose. he also knows tugarin has become overly fond of you, maybe because you have similar traits or that you were just naturally a dog person.
although, anyone tugarin approves of is good in his books.
"i... i probably should. i guess i'm just scared of telling them what happened. we had always been told to keep to ourselves. that humans were dangerous and only wanted to harm us. same with full fae. we... aren't very trusting people," you giggled at the thought of all your stubborn kin. he could see that, as the first few nights you barely slept, and he had this weird feeling that he was being watched while he slept. finally, once you had realized he wasn't gonna do anything to you, however, you both got good night's sleep from then on.
"heh... still, it's not like you wanted to be found. i think they'd be glad that you return safe rather than not at all, even if that means you were spotted by humans," he said, looking up at the aurora in the sky. you followed his gaze and found yourself agreeing with his words.
"yeah... if you... want me to leave i can. i know i've put a burden on you these past days so i don't want to impose any longer than i have to..." you said, looking back down at the ground, a sad expression on your lips.
he noticed your gaze and sighed gently, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. "it's... it's not that. you've proved to be a better hunter than even me... if anything i'd love if you'd stayed around. tugarin really seems to like you, and i could make a lot of mora off the game you get," he said, chuckling a bit as you scowled at him before joining in on his laughter.
"well... now that you know about me... maybe i can sneak off and help you with a few hunts. then you can also protect me from any future landslides," you said, looking at him with a gentle smile on your face.
he turned to meet your gaze, his golden eyes softening for a moment. "i'd like that... and i think tugarin would also like that..."
the silence after felt almost deafening, but not in a bad way. your eyes met each other, your hands slowly moving towards each other as the moment lingered... his gaze fell to your lips for a moment before looking back at your eyes.
he's leaning in... you're leaning in... the tension rises as you can feel the puff of air from his mouth before...
"WOOF!" tugarin barks as he jumps up on alyosha, knocking him over onto the ground. alyosha stumbles out commands as he tries to get tugarin under control, but his companion just seems to keep licking his face. you simply laugh, wave your finger, and tugarin suddenly hops off his companion before walking over to you to lay his head on your legs. "good boy tugarin..."
he sits up straight, irritated that the moment had been ruined by his companion, but seeing you softly pet the top of his head, made the feelings dissipate quickly.
you turn to him with a shrug before standing up. "i should be heading back now... until we meet next alyosha..." you said before leaning down to nuzzle the top of his head before rushing down the stairs and out of the village.
his heart skipped a beat at the sudden affection, remembering how you had mentioned nuzzling was an intimate display of affection to your kind. he felt his cheeks turning ever so pink as he watched your shadow disappear into the distance.
man was he glad he dug up that snowpile... with help from tugarin of course...
⟡ | author's notes: IM SORRY IM WORKING ON LOHEN BUT I NEEDED MORE CONTENT OF MY WOLF BOY (plus i got stuck with some of the dialogue). this could turn into a multi chap series if even one more person wants it. i love him and mitya smmmmmm
ps. if you wanna send in an ask for a drabble or anything please do!
Alyosha x reader | 2k words | Fluff, one bed trope | pt2 here
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟
You regret leaving home. You really do.
Running around upon a blanket of snow, you really weren't dressed for the weather—well, you were. You were adequately clothed for a snowfall, the usual weather of Snezhnaya. Truly, it is hard to forecast A FUCKING BLIZZARD. One that seems to come and go unnnounced.
So? What were you to do? Sit tight in a ditch? Get snowed to death out on the frozen lake? Hide out in some abandoned cabin where you could easily happen upon an unfriendly fae gang that wouldn't mind drinking your blood for water? Even better, get stuck in a cave with heaven knows what sort of monster ready to tear at you as its long overdue food delivery?
Truly, the worst time to have left your home. Whatever the urgency of that reason was mattered little now.
The snow is seeping in through your skin; it feels as if your limbs are numbing. Are you even running? It is hard to tell. The snow blows in your face with such vigor that it's blinding. You keep running until you happen to see light! A warm, orange-ish hue luminescing through this veil of rushing pale.
And so you run—well, as much as you can—through the blizzard. Till you heard a man behind you yell, "DOWN!" You whip around, yet your vision blurs as your body hits the snowy ground with a thud.
"Where are you off in a hurry to, little prey?" Said the stern voice. The blizzard seemed to have calmed down as his voice became clearer. You didn't know what to focus on first: the man's question or the gun that was kissing your chin.
You stammer. The first thing to come out of you is a cough. A terrible one, at that. The blizzard has gone, swept away by its own wind. Yet your body still aches, your limbs hurt—and the man weighing down your lower half doesn't help at all. He nudges his weapon higher, brushing against your lips, allowing you a taste of metallic victory—Could this be a threat?
Your mind is racing. 'Shit, shit, shit, how do I tell him I'm not a thief? Oh fuck, I must've looked suspicious. Ah, god is this it? Will this man end me... or worse..?' You shudder to think what a male stranger would do with a vulnerable person, such as yourself, out in the snowscapes. Alone.
Yet, it seems he discerned the panic in your eyes. He got up and backed off. Instead, he was now at your side, looking down at you. At all of you.
Seems a light bulb went off in his head as he realised you are not who he was after—it seems the blizzard laid a labyrinth for him as well. He acted quick.
"I'm sorry!" The gunman blurts. He hastily hoists you up bridal style. "Allow me to take care of you." Was all he could urge out of himself, already looking around for a trail.
But your heart couldn't take it anymore. Exhaustion wrung out through your used limbs as you fell asleep in his arms. He felt warm and safe—Which is pretty odd, considering how you were deathly afraid of him a second ago. However, you had not the luxury to ponder that thought for it all went blank.
A groan escapes your cracked lips. You tussle and turn to the sound of sheets ruffling beneath you. An equally distributed warmth weighs over you. Closing your eyes shut harder, you hear the sound of panting. Or is it heavy breathing? Whatever it is does not add up with your previous situation, not at all!
You jolt awake, sitting up. But the room is empty. You glance around this unfamiliar setting to find the source of that sound, which was... a dog? A fucking dog??
Upon noticing your actions, it immediately came to your side, placing its two paws onto your bedside as it began to sniff you, which soon went into a bit of hand licking as you petted its fur.
But that made the doggo back off and bark at you. Leaving you baffled as it sauntered towards the door and opened it???
Leaving you all alone in this stranger's cabin. The walls were filled with all sorts of things. The place was well heated, and memorabilia littered all over. Soon you heard a set of hurried footsteps approach.
With that same voice, now a lot softer and more concerned, right outside the door. Coming closer. "The person's awake, already?!"
As soon as it was said, the two barged in, giving you quite the fright.
After exchanging glances, a certain silence befalls you two. Gathering your strength, you croak:
"Who are you—"
"My apologies for pointing my hunting rifle at you!" The two of you spoke at the same time; his hushed apology soothed your heart. But why? He almost killed you. Just because he looked good doing it doesn't give him a pass—JUST WHAT THE HECK AM I THINKING OF???
As you sit there, stunning yourself into silence. He comes closer. "I was out hunting. I am Alyosha, a hunter. I was out on a hunt, you could say, and while I was out on the tail of a foe, I got caught in that unforeseen blizzard." He seemed repentant and apologetic. Body language much more approachable. He seemed very sweet for some reason. Very reasonable and cuddleable—Oh, for the love of Her Majesty, have some fucking dignity! His soothing, yet stern voice continues. "The same one you were caught in."
Alyosha took off his gloves and hovered his hand before your forehead. Hesitation, or perhaps it was out of respect. "May I conduct a proper yet brief health inspection?" To which you nod, not wanting to strain your voice further.
He brings his cold hand to your temples—wish it were his lips instead—his gaze focused. Soon he moves on to your neck, placing two thick and deft fingers at your jugular for a good read of your pulse. Which slightly raised his brows.
You watch as his eyes drag along your body, probably looking for wounds or cuts—you silently wish it were for another, dirtier reason—but your clothes seem undamaged, so no cuts, it seems. Suddenly feeling shy and ashamed for your own perverted thoughts, a slight whine escapes your lips as his eyes snap back onto yours. Worried.
"You aren't actively bleeding from any open wounds, which is good. However, your pulse is racing. Does your throat hurt?"
You nod. He leaves your side to tend to a kettle. You sit up, leaning back onto the headboard as you watch the two creatures before you. The man—Alyosha, was his name?—was fixing up some herbal tea for, presumably, the two of you.
The dog looked so adorable, just sitting there in his own corner. Wanting to ask about it, you opened your mouth to speak; instead, a series of coughs exited your body. Violent ones, at that.
Immediately, Alyosha whips around and comes to your side to aid you in any way possible. His hands hover near your figure, in case something happens. Without a thought, just for extra warmth perhaps, you reach out for his arm, holding onto him as you shiver and cough.
"Don't fret too much. This is a common cold you have. The tea should be ready soon, alright?" His finger drew long and slow lines on your arm to soothe you. Gently coaxing you into releasing him from your grip. "Once you finish a cup or two, we can resume our conversation, okay?" He smiles, making eye contact with you. Lightly laughing at your eager response. Nodding to him.
While he's preparing that, you turn your attention to the dog. Who's approaching you again. Seeing how its master is so comfortable around you, it is giving you a second chance.
While you are occupied with the dog on the left side of the bed, the bed's weight on the right side dips. You look over to see him holding two mugs in his hands.
Stretching one towards you, watching as you gratefully accept it. The two of you drink in silence, recovering. Your airways open up as that warmth in your chest swells. This herbal drink fueled the near-smoldering flame within you.
By the second cup, you feel as if you are ready to talk. And he notices; of course he does—all hunters have keen eyes—because he smiles at you and asks if you want a refill.
"No thank you, good sir. You have already done me a great favour by truly nursing me back to health." After placing the mugs down, he turns to face you, leaning his body against the table.
"It is the least I could have done." Alyosha cocks his head to the side, crossing his arms. "However, I would have done that for anyone. Therefore, I still owe you one." He asserts, following up his previous statement.
You hum, recalling how he pushed you into the snow. Filling you with this odd warmth, which was overwritten with valid fear. You push the covers off of yourself, trying to get up as you swing your legs to the side of the bed. He rushes to your side.
"Uhm—don't, shit, uhh. That's not the best idea—!" You stumbled, almost falling onto that barking mess. He caught you in his arms. Practically embracing you, holding onto your waist a lot tighter than necessary, as he breathed a sigh of relief against the top of your head.
You lean against his shoulder, as the throbbing in your calves and lower limbs thrums stronger each passing heartbeat. The soles of your feet ache with calluses and have most likely reddened.
You whisper a meek apology. This day truly isn't yours.
"You gave me quite the fright! Please, refrain from walking any time in the foreseeable future. You'll only injure yourself."
"Yeah, I realised that now." You pout, slightly mad that he's right once again. His hold on you loosened now that he heard you speak, but neither of you truly complained about the current position.
Except for a certain fluff ball who weasled his way between your legs, soon going behind Alyosha and putting both his paws onto his back, stand on its hind legs.
You giggle. "Is it giving you a hug?"
To which the man joins in. "Seems so. Ah! My apologies, I have forgotten to introduce you to him. Now, please lie back down, for we will be stuck together for a while."
You rapidly blink in confusion at the latter part of his statement, yet the fucker carries on like it's the most obvious fact in the world. "So, anyways. This is Tugarin, my hunting partner. He does not like to be petted." He laughs, kneeling down to ruffle the dog's fur.
"Yeah, I figured after he barked at me." You side-eye the dog. "So, how about we address the elephant in the room?"
He stands up, looking at you a little confused, before it clicks in his mind. Wow, the guy sure catches on quickly.
"Ah, my apologies once more. Of course you wouldn't know about it. If you did, you wouldn't have left your house." He quips. And you gasp, thinking, 'Why am I catching a stray?'. But he quickly moves on. AS if he didn't just personally attack you.
"That blizzard is expected to worsen overnight. And I overheard, while out securing some extra supplies for the next few days of shut-in, that it is forecast to storm around for the next day or two."
Slumping back into your (his) bed, you groan. "Fuuuuuuuckk.'
Well, that complicates the situation, doesn't it? With the everlasting, soul-sucking snowstorm right outside your door, you're stuck with this stranger, or acquaintance Alyosha, his dog, Tugarin, and one fucking bed.
summary — what's that, honorary knight? you wanna know why i wear this ring on my pointer finger? well...i guess i don't mind sharing.
themes — fluff and light humor, chai's self-indulgent hc for lohen's ring, various subtle references to my previous works, promise rings, reference to a popular lohen meme, discussions of the intensity of lohen's love, mild violent/graphic talk from lohen, they're in love your honor ♡
WC: 868
You were surprised that Lohen was the one to bring it up first.
“I just want something that shows how much you mean to me,” he had told you, as he held you to his chest in the darkness. “Something that tells other people you’re mine, without you even having to say it.”
Now, you stood before him, your hand outstretched to his. The way his gloved fingers brushed yours sent a delicate frisson through your arm, spurring warmth in your cheeks. You smiled at him, he smirked at you, and then you both turned to look at your joined hands.
“Which finger should I put it on?”
“Whichever feels best,” you answered. “I don’t mind.”
“Hm. I want you to pick, though.”
You let out a soft laugh. “The ring finger’s always a solid choice. Let’s do that one.”
“You had better be sure,” he murmured, “‘cause you’re not ever taking it off.”
The way his red eyes caught yours made your heart lurch into your throat. Beaming at the man you adored, you said, “You pick first, then. I’ll just match you.”
Lohen rolled the silver band between his fingers, looking pensive. He glanced down at your hand, running his thumb across the bumps of your knuckles. Eventually, that thumb of his settled right on your pointer finger.
“I want mine here.”
“Why?” you asked curiously.
The way he grinned sent butterflies into your stomach. He sounded rather excited when he said, “It’s gotta be the trigger finger. Next time I shoot someone, it’ll feel like you’re shooting ‘em with me!”
“Oh.” Your eyes widened, but your smile remained. “That’s, um…that’s nice…?”
“Isn’t it?! It’ll be a permanent reminder that every time I pull the trigger, my cute girlfriend’s at home waiting for me. We’ll be like partners in crime! Ah, but only against the bad guys, of course.”
“Wow,” you stammered. “Wow, I…wow. You, um…you put a lot of thought into that. Pretty quickly, too.”
“Uh-huh. Aren’t you proud of me?”
His toothy grin was one of the sweetest, most innocent things you had ever seen. If you hadn’t known him for as long as you did, you would have never been capable of imagining that a man with a face like his could go on to brutalize his enemies the way that he did. Lohen was fierce in both passion and punishment, and a long time ago, that might have scared you. Now, though, that fact only brought a smile to your face.
“Good job, Lohen,” you said warmly.
He giggled, his cheeks turning red. Without missing a beat, he happily slotted the silver band over your left trigger finger before slipping his own onto the opposite hand. He pressed your palms together before curling his fingers through the gaps of yours, your rings brushing against each other with the motion.
“Are you happy?” he murmured.
Grinning at him, you nodded and gave his hand a squeeze.
“Do you love me?” he asked coyly.
You laughed. “You’re always so silly, Lohen. The promise ring isn’t proof enough?”
“Mm, it is. But I just like hearing you say it.”
“I love you,” you told him fondly. “Do you love me?”
His smile could snap your heart in two.
“I’d take a bullet for you,” he purred. “If you ever stabbed me, Bun, I’d look you in the eye and say thank you.”
“That’s…an interesting way of putting it,” you laughed. “Though I have to admit that I’m not planning on stabbing you any time soon.”
“If you ever did,” he said with a wicked grin, “I’d thrust myself deeper into the blade just to be a few inches closer to ya.”
You smirked. “You love me that much?”
“Uh-huh. If you wanted to, I’d let you wreck my internal organs, Bun. If you ever told me you needed a new heart, I’d carve mine right out of my own chest for you.”
“Okay, okay,” you said with a giggle. “You’re going a bit far there, Lohen.”
“It’s not too far,” he insisted, his smirking lips brushing against yours. “That’s how much I love you, you know?”
You giggled. His mouth pressed to yours in a chaste kiss, his hand still squeezed tightly before you. The way he looked at you with those smoldering red eyes of his, how that smirk played across his sweet pink lips—you knew that he meant every word of what he had said to you. Maybe it was intense, and maybe it wasn’t the most typical romantic confession, but that was Lohen’s love. It was unique and abrasive, but when you allowed it to rub at your skin, it only felt like the softest of blankets. It was the kind of love you craved, and the kind that he was ever so generous to bestow upon you.
You kissed him again. Softly, you said, “You’re the love of my life, Lohen.”
His free hand rose to your cheek, his teeth digging into his grinning lower lip. With a cocky nod, he said, “Yeah, Bun. I know.”
You laughed, he pressed your mouths together, and with your hands still joined, you melted away under the sweet wash of Lohen’s love for you.
a/n: i was not supposed to upload another fic today but OH WELL HERE WE ARE. i spent some time last night writing some "lohen's voicelines about you" type shit cause i was bored, so that's where the summary inspo came from. i might post those... if i can get over my embarrassment about how self-indulgent they are xD oh yeah and if you can spot all the minor references to my other works you get a cookie xD <3
anyway, if you liked what you read, please consider leaving a me a heart! (˶>⩊<˶) ♡ reblogs and comments appreciated!
icymi! chai's last lohen post:
lohen still can't communicate, lohen wip (320+ notes)
masterlist
⊹ ˖ fellow authors, i do not mind if you are inspired by my works to write something similar, but please credit me if you are. these concepts mean a lot to me, so i would really like to be credited for any of my personal ideas that inspire you.
Premise: Utsui Hikaru is Ushijima Wakatoshi's younger sister. Due to complications during their parents divorce, Hikaru never took on the Ushijima surname.
Timeline: Tsukishima and Hikaru are in an established relationship, both are living in Miyagi. Ushijima is currently in Tokyo training for the Adlers.
Warning: hospitalization and injuries
Scene start:
Ushijima Wakatoshi was currently in Tokyo training with the Schweiden Adlers. If the powerhouse spiker found out his little sister had been hospitalized via a secondary source—or worse, a panicked text from Tendou who might have heard it through the Miyagi volleyball grapevine—the fallout would be catastrophic.
Tsukishima took a deep breath, steeling himself, and stepped quietly out of the examination room into the sterile, brightly lit hallway.
He scrolled through his contacts, found the number, and pressed call. He lifted the phone to his ear, leaning his back against the cool wall beside Hikaru's door.
It rang twice before the line clicked open.
"Tsukishima," Ushijima’s deep, resonant voice came through the speaker. The background noise sounded like a locker room. "You are supposed to be in the middle of a practice match against the collegiate team. Why are you calling me?"
The fact that Ushijima had memorized Karasuno's exact scrimmage schedule didn't even phase Tsukishima anymore. He pinched the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses, his eyes slipping shut.
"I'm at a medical clinic in Sendai," Tsukishima stated, keeping his voice deliberately flat, steady, and entirely devoid of his usual snark. With Ushijima, delivering facts bluntly was the only way to prevent the older man from immediately assuming the absolute worst. "Hikaru was injured. I'm with her now."
There was a profound, suffocating silence on the other end of the line. The background noise of the Adlers' locker room seemed to instantly vanish, as if Ushijima had walked into a secluded hallway or simply radiated an aura so terrifying that his professional teammates had fled.
When Ushijima spoke again, his voice was deathly quiet and cold, enough to freeze steel. "Explain. Now."
"A deflected spike went into the viewing gallery," Tsukishima reported clinically, though the memory made his throat tighten. "She threw herself over one of our first-year managers to shield her. She fell down a flight of concrete stairs."
Another heavy beat of silence. Tsukishima could practically hear the gears turning in the older brother's head, analyzing the threat and the damage.
"Her injuries?" Ushijima demanded.
"A severe sprain and a hairline fracture in her left wrist. Five stitches on her temple. And a concussion," Tsukishima listed off, gripping the phone tighter. "The doctor has her under observation right now. She's asleep. The pain medication is working, and she hasn't shown any signs of severe neurological damage."
"I am booking the next Shinkansen to Sendai," Ushijima stated immediately. There was the faint sound of a locker slamming shut in the background. "I will be there in exactly two hours and forty-five minutes."
"Ushijima-san," Tsukishima interjected firmly, though he knew stopping the older boy was like trying to halt a freight train. "You have a League match tomorrow. She's stable. And I'm not leaving this clinic."
"My sister fell down a flight of concrete stairs, Tsukishima."
"And I caught her," Tsukishima shot back, his voice dropping to a fierce, protective low. "I carried her here. I am sitting right outside her door, and I am not moving until they discharge her. If she wakes up and needs anything, I will handle it."
The line went quiet for a long, tense moment. The unspoken challenge hung in the air—the clash between the fiercely protective older brother and the equally devoted boyfriend.
Finally, a slow, heavy exhale filtered through the speaker. Ushijima was analytical above all else; he knew leaving his team the night before a professional debut was highly suboptimal, but his priority was always his sister.
"You will not leave her side," Ushijima commanded, though the freezing edge had thawed just a fraction, replaced by a begrudging, heavy trust.
"I won't," Tsukishima promised instantly.
"If her condition worsens by even a margin, you will call me, and I will leave Tokyo regardless of the consequences," Ushijima added. "Tell her... tell her I will call her the exact moment she is discharged and coherent."
"I'll tell her."
"And Tsukishima." Ushijima paused, the sheer weight of his next words feeling incredibly heavy. "Thank you."
Tsukishima swallowed hard. "You don't need to thank me for this."
The line clicked dead.
Tsukishima lowered the phone, letting out a ragged sigh that ruffled his blonde hair. He shoved the device back into his pocket and turned, quietly pushing open the door to Hikaru's room. He stepped back inside, the harsh fluorescent lights casting long shadows across the small space.
Summary: in which you spend too much time with someone other than himself for too long and he makes it known he doesn't like that
Trigger warning: dark? (though lowkey lohen is a trigger warning himself)
“Who was that?”
“@#$%! Father of muscles, mother of pearls- that scared me!”
Any other time he’d laugh and coo. Right now? There isn’t a single drop of amusement in him.
The amount of patience he had before that was something everyone, you and the Knights of Favonius, should’ve been thankful for. Using everything to restrain and hold himself back while watching you laugh and simile to your heart’s content with someone you were seemingly causally hanging out with. Then came the hug.
A hug is an action that requires physically wrapping your arms around someone. Physical touching someone. Something that is solely his, only his, you gave to someone else. Someone that’s not him.
For you to betray him like this? How dare you.
He takes a step towards you. Then another.
It’s purely coincidental yet convenient for you to trip and fall into the seat of the chair that was behind you, his arms shooting out and caging you in.
Then swinging a leg over yours, he squeezes his to clamp yours down, completely immobilizing you.
“I thought I told you already.” His knuckles turn white as his grip tightens on the backrest, the eerie glow of his red eyes intensifying as he slowly leans towards you.
“You’re mine.” Foreheads almost touching, his lips brushing against yours as he talks. Yet his gaze stays ice cold, his pupils in slits similar to that of a snake. “All mine. No one can have you. Will ever have you.”
The paper-thin gap closes, him sealing it shut.
“You.”
Chuu
“Are.”
Chuu
“Mine.”
He brings and wraps both hands around your head, palms squishing your cheeks, fingers tangling your hair and pressing down on your scalp, to pull you and deepen the kiss.
Satisfaction curls inside him, watching through half-lidded eyes your flush going from ears down to your neck, pink gradually darkening into dark red.
It’s when you start smacking his chest, weakly, more resembling a thump, he realizes it’s no longer from fluster but the lack of oxygen and breaks it off though with a scowl.
“You-“
“He’s my brother!”
…Hah?
“He was supposed to come over tomorrow so, I was going to tell you today! I didn’t expect him to surprise me by coming today or appearing at my workplace!”
His expression couldn’t get any more flat. Seriously, it didn’t have to be today. Yesterday. The day before. Even last week. Would it have killed you to simply tell him in advance? Not last minute?
No matter. Guess he’ll just have to teach you the hard (his favorite) way.
Next day, he appears to work with a genuine smile on his face causing the knights avoid him at all cost more so when they catch him humming with a light jump in his steps while Varka and Jean, the sole two to know why, could only send a mental wish for you to rest in peace and hopefully gain the ability to walk again by next week.
its currently in the middle of the night, and you half woke up randomly feel like you want to go to the bathroom.
as your hand goes to rub your sleepy eyes, you sighed, looking at the pair of arms that hold your waist really tight.
'its going to be bothersome trying to get out from his arms...' you mumbled in your mind, but the urge to go to the bathroom is bigger than your love for him (at this moment) so slowly you tried to lift his arms... and get out from it.
it was hard, at first. somehow your lohen still pulled you back, but after several tries, you eventually got free from his grip.
another sigh left your mouth, but this time its because of relief. with a hurry you left the bed and went to the bathroom.
lohen opened one of his eyes, looking at the now empty spot behind him. he didnt know why youre so persistent on leaving his cuddle when you said you really liked it?! but he gave up and let you wander the outside world for a while now.
for a while...
the blue haired sit up, feeling the way his body sinks beneath the soft bed, his cold red eyes looked around the dimly lit room waiting for you to come back.
after you done with your problem with the bathroom, you walk towards your room. as you stand in front of the door, you prepare yourself with whatever happened in your shared bedroom.
your hand opened the doorknob, with still the sleepy eyes, you found your lohen sat there on the bed, the dimly lit room making his wide red eyes looked like the predator's eye as he stared at your arrival.
well, youre not that surprised, anyway.
"why did you leave me."
the tone wasnt a question, its more like a statement, especially when he looked at you like you just went on a date with other man.
you walked towards him, standing near so lohen could feel the heat radiating from your body.
"sorry, lohen. i need to go to the bathroom so i have to get out from your hug."
lohen furrowed his eyebrows, sighing as he do realize that its an understandable reason for you to leave his arm.
"what a shame, you couldve just woke me up, bunny. i would like to accompany you at the bathroom..." ...what?
but now that you're here, close to him, lohen pulled you by your wrist so you can lay on the bed or on top of him as he wrapped his arms back on your waist, removing any distance on your current proximity. you can practically feel the way he purrs when he nuzzle onto your neck.
"anyway, let's just go back to sleep, bun. we need a lot of energy for tomorrow's sparring."
____________________________________________
a/n : another lohen fic inspired by lohen fanart, yeah idk why i keep getting new ideas and mood for writing lohen fic. also, pls father come home.
credit to the artist and the user who makes me want to write this, sorry if its bad, english isnt my first language 😔✌🏻
at exactly 10:30 pm, your adopted four-legged son tugarin alerted your husband that it was time for their usual stroll outside before bed. you had offered to take the adorable little thing out but alyosha refused the help. after all, he couldn’t have his beloved outside alone when they aren’t accustomed to the grueling snezhnayan weather.
after only a few minutes of waiting for your husband and child to return, you noticed alyosha’s coat still on the rack by the door. in his haste to leave quickly, he must have grabbed his robe instead of his usual hunting coat. you reached for it and figured you’d catch him before they got too far. however, by the time you opened the door and peered out, they were gone.
in the couple seconds that the door was open, some cold air managed to rush in, causing a slight chill to settle across your body. you were already holding the coat when you thought might as well and dawned it to warm up.
it weighed heavy on you as the soft, yet hefty fur lining embraced you like a warm hug. you retreated to bed and snuggled up under the covers. a little while later, you heard boots crunching down on the snow outside and the lovable bark of your fine furry friend.
alyosha knocked the snow off his boats then led tugarin inside the house, helping him get settled in his doggie bed. “alright buddy, good night.”
“woof woof!” your son barked in response.
he disrobed to get back in bed when he finally got a good look at you. “my my, well aren’t you cozy?”
“oh! i noticed you forgot your coat so i was going to take it to you. by the time i made it out the door you were gone and i got cold, so i put it on.” you replied with a sweet smile.
“i don’t think i’ve ever seen you wear it before. you look so cute my love.” he replied while pinching your cheeks, causing you to giggle.
“i have put it on before. one time you left it in the bathroom and i had forgotten to grab a robe so i wore it while getting ready for bed.” you innocently confessed.
alyosha seemingly lost his composure a bit. he blurted out a stuttered response. “y-you wore it… n-naked?”
“yea… do you not like that i did that?” fear that you had somehow made him uncomfortable rattled through you. the nervousness was palpable in your voice.
“no! no! i don’t mind it’s just…” he paused for a moment. clearly trying to find the best words to use.
“p-please do not put the image in my head of you naked with nothing but my coat on. i-it’s too much for me to handle…” in that moment he was rather grateful for the harsh conditions outside. the cold caused his cheeks to get red which concealed the strong blush that was creeping in from imagining you naked in his hunting coat.
the man got a very fun surprise when he woke up in the morning. you were in his coat with nothing underneath while sat on top of him. quite the fun morning indeed…
when he went out hunting later that day, he missed every single one of his shots. oh, the poor thing was terribly upset!
PREMISE . . . In which you were caught wandering through a blizzard in Snezhnaya. They happen to be out in the blizzard for their own reasons when they spot a distant figure emerging through the whiteout, only to realize it's you. After the two of you meet eyes for one fleeting moment, you finally collapse from exhaustion and the cold, leaving them to rush to your aid.
ꫂ᭪݁ STARRING . . . mitya, valeriy, alyosha, tartaglia, dottore (in order) + gender neutral! reader
⚠︎ WARNING . . . › sfw!!, word count : 5k total / 1k per character, hypothermia, fainting, mentions of fever, use of [name], dottore being harsh, hints of s3lf-harm, established relationship, comfort, mild angst, protective behavior
note . somewhat proofread, mild spoilers of 7.0 snezhnaya archon quest (?) mostly places from snezhnaya being mentioned + i think i had too much fun writing dottore's part hmm
── ( 𝐦. ) Mitya was completely frozen the moment he realized the figure emerging through the blizzard was you. He had been focused on his fieldwork, following an unusual energy fluctuation that had leaked beyond Glupov and appeared on his equipment despite the worsening weather, so at first he only registered the approaching silhouette as another person caught in the storm.
He raised his voice through the wind, asking who was there, and when the figure finally came close enough for the snow to stop obscuring your face, his entire train of thought simply collapsed. His eyes widened, his expression going almost blank with disbelief as he stared at you. "[Name]..?" Your head lifted at the sound of his voice, and your eyes met his through the swirling snow.
Mitya couldn't move at all. He just stared, almost as though his mind couldn't accept that you were actually standing there. You looked equally exhausted, snow clinging to your hair, shoulders trembling beneath clothing that had clearly done very little to protect you from the storm, and there was something in your expression that made his confusion slowly turn into alarm.
"Mitya," you finally whispered, his name so faint that he almost wondered whether he'd imagined hearing it. "I'm here," he immediately answered, taking a step toward you. "What are you doing—?"
He reached toward you, his eyes searching your face as though trying to understand how you'd ended up here, but before he could ask anything, your knees suddenly gave way. "[Name]!" The paralysis shattered instantly.
Mitya lunged forward and caught you as your body collapsed, pulling you against his chest before you hit the snow. "No— hey, hey, stay with me!" His hands immediately moved over you, checking your breathing and searching for your pulse, and the moment he touched you properly, the panic became even worse.
You were freezing, not merely cold from standing in the storm for a few minutes, but frighteningly chilled throughout, your body almost completely limp against him. He brushed the snow from your face with shaking fingers, repeatedly calling your name and trying to get some response from you.
"Come on. Open your eyes." He stared at your closed eyelids, then down at your chest, watching desperately for its rise and fall. The questions he'd been trying to ask disappeared entirely beneath one overwhelming realization, you'd been walking through that blizzard for a long time, and he'd found you only because you'd somehow managed to keep moving until you reached him.
His equipment was forgotten in the snow behind him. The energy fluctuation that had brought him outside the city could cease to exist for all he cared. He gathered you into his arms, immediately wrapping his coat around you and shielding your face against his chest before carrying you toward shelter with a frightening urgency that made his normally composed movements almost frantic.
Once inside, Mitya became intensely focused, carefully getting you out of your frozen outer layers and replacing them with dry clothing and blankets while making certain you were warmed gradually.
His hands still trembled every so often, especially whenever he remembered how your knees had simply given out beneath you, but he forced himself to concentrate on what needed to be done.
Once everything he could do had been done, Mitya finally stopped moving, standing there for a moment as though he had only just realized how exhausted he was. His breathing was still uneven from carrying you through the storm, his chest rising and falling heavily as he looked down at you beneath the thick blankets.
A warm, damp towel rested gently across your forehead, your face finally beginning to regain some color as you lay quietly, your breathing soft and steady beneath the covers. He watched the rise and fall of your chest for several seconds, almost as though he needed to convince himself that you were truly safe now.
His shoulders gradually lowered, and he let out a long, shaky breath before sitting beside you. The room was finally quiet, and without the frantic movement of getting you warm and settled, the reality of what had happened began catching up with him.
His gaze lingered on your sleeping face, his expression softening with exhausted relief, before he gently brushed a few damp strands of hair away from your forehead. His hands were steadier now, though there was still a faint tremor in his fingers.
He kept talking quietly as he worked, partly to keep himself grounded and partly because the silence left him alone with the image of you collapsing in his arms. "You know, I was supposed to be looking for an energy fluctuation tonight," he murmured, his thumb carefully smoothing along your hairline.
"It leaked outside of Glupov, and I thought I'd just have to come out here, check the readings, make a few notes, and go back to report what happened." A breathless, humorless laugh escaped him as he glanced down at you. "You... really couldn't have picked a less terrifying way to get my attention, could you?" The attempt at humor didn't quite hide how shaken he was.
Once you were made comfortable and your condition had stabilized, he sat beside you rather than returning to his work, keeping one hand near yours and checking your breathing every few minutes.
Every small movement from you immediately drew his attention. A twitch of your fingers, a change in your breathing, even the faintest shift beneath the blankets had him looking down with renewed concern.
After he sat down, he gently took your hand, his fingers carefully closing around yours as though he were afraid even the slightest pressure might disturb you. His thumb slowly brushed back and forth across your knuckles, lingering over the warmth gradually returning to your skin while his eyes remained fixed on your sleeping face.
For a moment, he simply sat there in silence, his expression softening as he watched your breathing settle into an even rhythm. Then he lifted your hand slightly and leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss against your knuckles before lowering it back onto the blanket, "You really scared me."
── ( 𝒗. ) Valeriy would be traveling with a small unit of Fatui soldiers while inspecting a remote outpost, the worsening weather already making the journey considerably more difficult than it had been when they first set out. He would remain composed despite the blizzard, walking near the front of the group while giving short, precise instructions about their route and the condition of the road.
Snow would lash against his coat and collect along his shoulders, visibility gradually shrinking until the soldiers behind him became little more than blurred silhouettes. Then, through the thick curtain of white, he would catch sight of something moving in the distance.
Valeriy would immediately raise one gloved hand, bringing the entire group to a halt. The sudden silence among the soldiers would feel almost unnatural beneath the roar of the wind. He'd narrow his eyes toward the distant figure, watching it disappear behind a wave of blowing snow before emerging again several paces farther away. It wasn't moving normally. There was an unevenness to its steps, a slow, staggering rhythm that made his instincts immediately tighten.
He'd order the others to remain where they were and advance alone, his pace increasing with every step. The figure would become clearer the closer he came, until the familiar shape of your clothing finally emerged through the storm. He would stop dead. For a fraction of a second, Valeriy would simply stare, his usual impassive expression giving way to something much harder to conceal.
"[Name]." His voice would cut through the wind, and you'd slowly lift your head at the sound. Your face would be pale from the cold, snow caught in your hair and eyelashes, your entire body visibly exhausted from however long you'd been walking through the storm. Then your eyes would meet his.
Valeriy would remain completely still, staring at you as though he needed to convince himself that you were truly standing there. Recognition would flicker across your face, followed by a faint movement of your lips. "Valeriy..." The sound would barely reach him, but he would hear it.
He'd take another step toward you, his attention narrowing entirely onto your face. "What are you doing here?" Yet before you could answer, your expression would suddenly lose focus. Your knees would buckle beneath you.
"No." Valeriy would move instantly, catching you before you struck the ground, one arm securing your back while the other supported your head. Your body would feel alarmingly cold in his arms, far colder than it should have been, and his expression would harden as he checked your breathing and pulse.
For one awful moment, he'd find himself waiting for the reassurance of a heartbeat. When he finally felt it, he'd release a controlled breath. "They're alive." His voice would be quiet but absolute.
He'd immediately turn toward the soldiers, his expression remaining cold and composed despite the urgency underneath it. "We're heading back. All of us. Now." His gaze would sweep across the unit, leaving no room for hesitation.
"Forget the inspection. I want everyone back at Snezhnograd immediately. Stay together, keep to the marked route, and don't fall behind." His eyes would briefly drop to you before returning to the soldiers. "Move."
He'd remove his own outer layer and cover you with it, shielding your face from the wind before lifting you fully into his arms.
He wouldn't allow one of the soldiers to take you from him. Instead, he'd carry you himself, keeping your head supported against his shoulder while repeatedly checking your breathing as they made their way back toward the city.
Once they reached Snezhnograd, Valeriy would take complete control of the situation. He'd have the heating system started immediately, order blankets and dry clothing brought in, and summon whoever was capable of assessing your condition.
Every instruction would be concise and deliberate, his usual cold efficiency becoming almost severe as he refused to let anyone waste time. He'd personally oversee your treatment, making sure you were warmed gradually and that your breathing and pulse remained stable, occasionally reaching down to check your hand himself.
The soldiers would notice that he hadn't left your side, though nobody would be foolish enough to comment on it. Valeriy would sit beside you once everything necessary had been arranged, his posture rigid and his expression unreadable as he watched your sleeping face.
Eventually, your fingers would twitch, and his gaze would immediately sharpen. When you finally stirred, he'd lean forward without hesitation, his hand closing around yours. "Look at me." His voice would remain controlled, but the intensity behind it would reveal how closely he'd been watching you.
Your eyes would slowly open, unfocused at first before settling on him. "You're safe." He'd pause, studying your face for any sign that you were still struggling to remain conscious. Only once he was certain you were awake would the questions begin. Where had you come from? How long had you been out there? Why had you gone into the storm alone?
He'd want every detail, but he wouldn't bombard you while you were still weak. Instead, he'd let you answer at your own pace, quietly listening while his thumb rested against your hand. Beneath the composed exterior, however, the discovery would continue to haunt him. He had seen you standing in the middle of a blizzard and, for one terrible moment, believed he might have arrived too late.
That possibility would be enough to make him unusually reluctant to leave your side. Even once you were stable, he'd remain in the chair beside you, his coat still draped over your shoulders and his hand still loosely holding yours. Whatever business had brought him to the outpost could be delegated. The blizzard could rage outside for another hour, another night, or longer. Valeriy would remain exactly where he was, silently watching over you until he was certain you were truly out of danger.
── ( 𝐚. ) Alyosha would be deep in the wilderness when the blizzard began to roll in, the snowfall growing heavier by the minute until the familiar paths around him were becoming difficult to distinguish. Tugarin would normally remain close, responding immediately whenever Alyosha called him back, but this time the dog would seem strangely distracted.
Alyosha would stop beside a cluster of snow-covered trees and call out, "Tugarin." No response. He'd wait a moment, listening for the familiar sound of paws moving through the snow, then call again, sharper this time. "Tugarin, come here." Still nothing. His expression would immediately tighten.
Tugarin wasn't the sort of dog to ignore him without reason. Alyosha would start moving through the snow, following the faint disturbances in the powder while calling his name again, but the dog would suddenly appear farther ahead before turning and running in the opposite direction. "Tugarin!" Alyosha would call after him, irritation briefly flashing across his face as he hurried to follow.
The dog would disappear behind a curtain of snow, forcing Alyosha to pick up his pace, and by the time he finally caught sight of him again, Tugarin would be standing beside someone half-buried in the snow. Alyosha would slow immediately.
You were barely standing, your legs trembling beneath you as you leaned heavily against Tugarin for support, one hand weakly resting against his fur. Tugarin would be whining and nudging at you, clearly refusing to leave your side. You'd weakly try to push him away, murmuring through chattering breaths, "Tugarin, please." as though you were worried you'd somehow drag him into danger with you. Tugarin wouldn't listen. He'd press closer instead, standing firmly between you and the storm.
Alyosha would watch the scene for several seconds, his suspicion immediately sharpening at the sight of an unfamiliar person so far from any safe path. He'd take a few careful steps forward, one hand instinctively moving toward his weapon. Tugarin would glance back at him but still wouldn't move. Then you would finally lift your head.
Your eyes would meet Alyosha's through the swirling snow, and everything would seem to become strangely still for a moment. He'd recognize you. His expression would change immediately. "[Name]? Why..?" You'd stare at him, your face pale and exhausted, snow gathered along your lashes and hair.
Your lips would part as though you were trying to answer him, but no sound would come. Alyosha would lower his hand from his weapon and approach quickly, his attention moving between you and Tugarin.
He'd see the way your knees were trembling, the way you were struggling simply to remain upright, and the realization that you'd been walking through the storm for far too long would settle heavily in his mind.
"[Name], you need to get to someplace warm. Now." He'd reach toward you, but your strength would finally give out. Your knees would buckle, your body collapsing forward as Tugarin gave a sharp whine and Alyosha caught you before you could hit the snow.
Alyosha would immediately pull you against himself and check your breathing and pulse, his usual quiet composure replaced by a sudden, controlled urgency. "[Name]—!" You were frighteningly cold, your body nearly limp in his arms, and the sight would make his jaw tighten.
He'd look toward the trail behind you, studying the partially buried footprints and the direction they came from, already trying to determine how long you'd been wandering alone. Tugarin would stay pressed against Alyosha's leg, whining softly while watching you, and Alyosha would glance down at him before returning his attention to you.
Alyosha would glance down at Tugarin, his expression softening slightly despite the urgency of the situation. "Good boy. I knew I shouldn't have doubted you." He'd give the dog a brief pat along the head before looking back at you, immediately noticing how badly you were trembling. "Now we need to get [Name] back to the shelter before they get sick from being out here this long." He'd pull off his cloak and wrap it securely around you before carefully lifting you into his arms, keeping you close against his chest to shield you from the wind.
Alyosha would make his way back toward his place with Tugarin following immediately at his heels, occasionally running ahead before circling back to make certain Alyosha was still coming.
Once they reached their destination, Alyosha would carefully lay you down and begin warming you gradually, replacing your damp outer layers with dry, warm clothing, giving you thick blankets, and keeping you close to the heat source while having a close watch on your breathing.
Tugarin would settle on the bed, his head resting near your arm, occasionally lifting his ears whenever you moved. Alyosha would notice every little change. He'd check your pulse between tasks, adjust the blanket around your shoulders, and brush your hair with careful fingers.
The questions would already be forming in his mind, but he wouldn't ask them yet. Not while you were unconscious. When your eyes eventually opened, Tugarin would be the first to react, his head lifting immediately before he gave a few barks and nudged closer.
Alyosha would lean toward you, watching carefully for signs of confusion or weakness. "Wait, stay still, your body's still weak from the high fever you have." His voice would remain low and firm. "You're safe now." He'd let you gather yourself before asking what happened, listening closely to every word and every hesitation. His suspicion wouldn't disappear simply because you were his lover, seeing you emerge from a blizzard barely able to stand had already told him something was terribly wrong. Still, none of that would matter until you were strong enough to speak.
For the rest of the night, Alyosha would remain beside you with Tugarin curled nearby, the two of them keeping watch while the storm raged outside.
── ( 𝒄. ) Childe would be traveling through the region on Fatui business when the blizzard suddenly became severe enough to force his group away from their original route. The storm would be little more than an inconvenience to him, Snezhnaya had never been particularly kind about the weather, and Tartaglia was hardly the sort of person to let a little snow ruin his mood.
Then, in the midst of his walk, he'd catch sight of something moving through the whiteout. His voice would trail off. He'd turn his head toward the distant figure, narrowing his eyes as it appeared and disappeared behind the violently blowing snow. "Hold on." His sharp voice would be enough to make the soldiers stop on their tracks. Tartaglia would already be moving before they could ask what he'd seen.
The figure was walking toward them, though barely. Every few steps seemed to take an unreasonable amount of effort, the person's silhouette swaying in the wind as though the storm itself were pushing them backward.
Tartaglia's pace would quicken, his expression gradually losing every trace of amusement as something about the figure began to feel horribly familiar. Then the snow would shift, revealing your face. He'd stop for half a heartbeat, genuinely stunned.
"[Name]...?" You'd hear him and slowly lift your head, your eyes finding his through the storm. For a long, suspended moment, neither of you would move. Tartaglia would simply stare at you, his eyes widening as he took in the snow tangled through your hair, your pale face, and the way your body was trembling beneath your clothes.
You'd look at him with an exhausted sort of recognition, your lips parting as though you were trying to say his name. "Hey, I'm here." He'd take another hurried step toward you, his hand already reaching out. "My love, what are you doing out here? You'll get sick if you stay out like this."
You wouldn't get the chance to answer. Your knees would suddenly buckle beneath you, your entire body giving out as though whatever had been keeping you upright had finally run out. Tartaglia's expression would snap from disbelief to panic.
"[Name]—!" He'd rush forward and catch you before you struck the ground, dropping hard onto his knees in the snow with your weight collapsing against his chest, ignoring the loud calls from his soldiers behind them.
His hands would immediately move over you, checking your breathing and pulse with frantic precision. "Hey— [Name], look at me!" He'd brush the snow from your face, his voice becoming increasingly urgent when you didn't respond. "Come on, sweetheart. Open your eyes."
The moment his fingers found your pulse, he'd release a sharp breath, relief hitting him so suddenly that it almost made him dizzy. "You're okay." He'd say it under his breath, almost as though he needed to hear the words himself.
Then he'd pull you closer, wrapping his arms around you protectively. "You're going to be okay. I've got you." He'd barely spare a glance toward the soldiers before ordering them to get the nearest shelter ready.
Whatever mission he'd been on no longer mattered. He'd lift you carefully into his arms and carry you through the snow himself, keeping your head tucked securely against his shoulder while repeatedly looking down to make sure you were still breathing.
The moment he reached shelter, Tartaglia's usual energy would turn into something much more frantic and focused. He'd get the fire going, call for blankets, make sure there was warm water available, and carefully remove the snow-soaked layers from your clothing before wrapping you in everything he could find.
He'd keep touching your hands and face, checking that the horrible chill was gradually leaving your skin, and every few seconds his eyes would return to your chest to make sure it was still rising and falling.
He'd keep talking to you despite knowing you couldn't answer, because the silence would leave too much space for his thoughts to spiral.
"You really know how to scare me, huh?" he'd murmur while brushing the damp strands of hair away from your forehead. "I was already thinking about what would've happened if I lost you right there."
He'd let out a quiet breath, trying to laugh but failing to make it sound convincing. "So you have to wake up now, okay? That's an order." His hand would linger against your cheek before he finally pulled back, watching you with an almost painfully attentive gaze.
He'd remember the way you'd looked at him through the snow, the way you'd managed to say his name before your body simply gave up, and the thought would keep returning no matter how many times he tried to push it aside.
When you finally stirred, Tartaglia would notice immediately. He'd lean forward so quickly that the chair beneath him would scrape against the floor, his eyes locking onto yours the moment they opened. For a second, he'd simply stare, as though he needed to make sure you were actually awake this time.
Then he'd let out a shaky laugh, lowering his head with obvious relief. "Good morning, sunshine." He'd press his forehead gently against yours, closing his eyes for a moment as his hand settled carefully against the side of your face. "You have no idea how happy I am to see those pretty eyes open."
Childe would stay close, letting you regain your strength while he continued checking your body temperature, adjusting your blankets, and making sure you had everything you needed.
His teasing nature would gradually return once he was certain you were truly safe, though it would be gentler than usual. He might complain that you'd given him the worst scare imaginable, or joke that he was going to start tying a bell around your ankle whenever you wandered off, but his hand would remain wrapped around yours throughout it all.
Beneath every joke would linger the memory of finding you in that storm, of watching you meet his eyes for one fleeting moment before collapsing into his arms, and Tartaglia wouldn't forget that sight anytime soon.
── ( 𝒅. ) Dottore would be conducting a field investigation in the middle of the blizzard, having deliberately ventured beyond the city to examine how the extreme conditions were affecting one of his instruments. The storm would be violent enough to turn the surrounding landscape into an indistinguishable expanse of white, yet he would remain remarkably composed, periodically checking his equipment and making mental notes about the fluctuations in temperature and pressure.
His attention would be fixed on the instrument when something in the snow would catch his eye, a disturbance that seemed too deliberate to be caused by the wind. He'd stop, his gaze narrowing behind his mask as he examined the shape from a distance. It would look almost like debris at first, half-covered by snow, but the longer he stared, the more unmistakably human it became.
Dottore would approach with measured curiosity, expecting an unknown variable rather than anything personal, until the snow shifted and revealed a familiar piece of clothing. His pace would slow. He'd recognize you.
For several seconds, he wouldn't move at all. The sight would be so unexpected that even his analytical mind would need a moment to process it, his eyes fixed on you as though the scene before him were some impossible contradiction.
You were out here. Alone. In this weather. His expression would become unreadable as he approached, his attention immediately cataloguing every visible detail, the snow caught in your hair, the pallor of your face, the sluggish way your body moved beneath the weight of your clothes.
"[Name]." His voice would carry through the storm, and you'd slowly lift your head at the sound. Your eyes would find his. For a long moment, neither of you would look away. Dottore would watch the recognition settle into your exhausted expression, and beneath that, something resembling relief.
You'd look at him as though seeing him was enough to convince you that you had finally reached somewhere safe. He'd take another step closer, his gaze sharpening as he noticed how difficult it was for you to remain upright. "What are you doing here?" There would be no answer.
Your lips would part, but your voice wouldn't come. Your eyelids would begin to droop. Dottore would immediately notice the change. "How long have you—" He'd reach toward you just as your knees gave way. Your body would slump forward, and he'd catch you before your head struck the snow, one arm securing you against him while his other hand immediately searched for your pulse.
The detached composure he'd maintained until then would become something much more intensely focused. He'd check your breathing, feel the temperature of your skin, examine your pupils, and assess every sign of consciousness he could find.
The realization that you were dangerously cold would make his jaw tighten beneath the mask. He'd remove his coat and wrap it around you, pulling you securely against his chest before lifting you from the snow. The instrument he'd been studying would be left exactly where he'd abandoned it. Whatever scientific curiosity had brought him into the storm had become completely irrelevant.
His entire attention would now be fixed on you, on the frightening stillness of your body, and on the fact that he'd arrived just in time to catch you before you disappeared beneath the snow.
Once Dottore brought you back to the small laboratory he had been using as a temporary base, the entire room would immediately fall under his control. The few subordinates working inside would barely have time to react before he carried you through the door and ordered them to clear the nearest examination table.
His coat would be dusted with snow, your body still wrapped tightly against his chest, and the expression beneath his mask would be so severe that nobody would dare waste a second asking what had happened.
"Move." A subordinate would hurry forward to help take you from him, only for Dottore to turn his head sharply. "Don't touch them." His voice would be cold enough to stop them in their tracks.
He'd lower you himself, carefully arranging your frozen limbs before immediately checking your pulse, breathing, and temperature. Someone would bring blankets and attempt to help arrange them around you, and Dottore would snap without even looking up, "I said I'll handle it."
Another subordinate might mention that they could prepare the equipment while he worked, only for him to give them a cutting glance. "Then prepare it without standing over my shoulder."
The laboratory would become unnaturally quiet as everyone returned to their tasks, leaving Dottore to work with frightening concentration. He'd remove the snow-damp clothing, replace it with dry layers, wrap you securely in blankets, and carefully regulate the warmth around you.
Every movement would be deliberate, every measurement recorded, his fingers repeatedly checking your pulse as though he refused to trust the numbers until he'd verified them himself. He'd brush frozen strands of hair away from your face, studying the faint color returning to your skin, then straighten and finally release a controlled breath. You were stable. For the moment.
He'd remain there another few minutes, watching your breathing, before abruptly stepping away to check the equipment he'd abandoned earlier. He'd return after a short while, glance down at you, and find you still unconscious.
Another interval would pass before he left again, giving instructions to a subordinate to alert him immediately should your condition change.
Each time he returned, his eyes would go straight to you. Your breathing remained steady, your pulse remained present, yet you stubbornly refused to wake. The pattern would begin irritating him, not because your unconsciousness was unexpected, but because he'd already calculated roughly when your body should begin responding.
He'd stand beside the table, arms folded, staring down at you for several seconds before quietly remarking, "You really intend to make this inconvenient, don't you?"
Eventually, Dottore would return to your side for what felt like the hundredth time, finding you exactly where he'd left you. His gaze would linger over your sleeping face, his expression becoming increasingly unreadable as the minutes passed. He'd sit beside the table and carefully take your hand, feeling the warmth that had finally begun returning to your fingers.
His thumb would move slowly across your knuckles, almost absentmindedly, while his attention remained fixed on you. He'd lean closer, lowering his voice so that the subordinates across the laboratory couldn't overhear.
"My dear, if this was an attempt to hurt yourself, you selected an exceedingly inefficient method." His thumb would pause against your hand. "And doing it while I happen to be nearby is particularly foolish."
There would be something almost scolding in his tone, though his fingers would remain surprisingly gentle. He'd study your face for another moment before continuing, quieter now, "You could have simply come to me."
A faint sigh would escape him as he adjusted the blanket around your shoulders. "Whatever compelled you to walk into that storm can be dealt with. There is no reason to make me reconstruct the circumstances from a half-frozen body."
He'd leave again eventually, returning to his work because he refused to spend every second hovering over you, yet he wouldn't get far. A few minutes later, his attention would drift from his notes toward the examination table. Then he'd stand, cross the laboratory, and check your pulse once more.
The cycle would repeat until one of his subordinates finally became brave enough to point out that he had checked you several times in the span of an hour. Dottore would give them a flat stare. "And?" That would be the end of the discussion.
When your eyelids finally fluttered much later, his attention would snap toward you immediately. He'd approach without hurry, though the speed with which he reached your side would betray how closely he'd been waiting. "There." His voice would soften by a fraction as your eyes struggled to focus. He'd lean down, one hand steadying your shoulder while the other remained around your wrist.
"Stay still." Once he was certain you were conscious, he'd study your face with intense scrutiny before quietly adding, "Now you can explain why you were walking around in the middle of a blizzard." His tone would be calm, almost clinical, but his hand would remain around yours throughout the questioning, unwilling to relinquish that small point of contact now that he'd finally gotten you awake.
he's just lying there, mouth open, eyes so wide they look glassy. not moving. not breathing right. his hands hover over your hips like he's scared to touch you.
you're the hottest thing he's ever seen and he's afraid he would burn if he touch you.
you roll your hips down slow, and the only sound in the room is his shaky little exhale and your voice. he's so quiet. no dirty talk, no growling. just these soft, punched out moans every time you sink onto him.
"you—ahh—okay baby?" you ask.
he nods all dumb, lips parted, eyes locked on where your bodies meet, then back up to your tits and face. his mouth moves but nothing comes out. then you clench around him, just a little, and his whole body jerks. his eyes roll back and he's cumming with this broken, high pitched whimper.
you're just too beautiful and he's too in love to hold it.
"ughh fuck—" he gasps, face red, hands finally gripping your waist. "pretty—y-you're so pretty—so p-pretty"
he's trying. he really is.
so just smile down at him and run your fingers through his hair. tell him he did good. he'll blink up at you all teary, still hard somehow, and whisper that he loves you.
lads boys 🍎 ⛄ ⭐ 🐦⬛ 🐠 🐺: react to the "isapod wants...." trend
warnings: fem reader! suggestive content! swearing!
ꨄ︎ lads masterlist ꨄ︎
chuu's note: this was a pain to make but i hope its ok TT
Caleb
Zayne
Xavier
Sylus
Rafayel
Valko
chuu's note: xavis one lowk something I did when I was interstate... I would bother my friend who was the floor beneath cos I didnt have enough bread lol (we usually got 1 loaf and split it bw each other cos we were saving money)
Getting fucked by Sylus in nothing but the jewelry he dressed you in.
Your hand runs down the foggy mirror to reveal your fucked out expression—smeared makeup, lips parted while pitched cries escape you, and eyes glimmering with unshed tears.
You are decorated in nothing but Sylus's finest jewels. Sparkling rubies and diamonds adorn your collarbone and drip down your ears. Matching bracelets drape your wrists as you attempt to steady yourself against the bathroom's mirror while your precious wedding ring glitters on your clenched fists.
Sylus takes you hard and fast from behind, gripping your waist as he stretches out your wet little pussy with his cock. Your toes are just barely touching the floor as he lifts and uses your body like his own personal flesh light with ease.
"Ngh! S-Sylus!" You squeal as he presses a hand against your abdomen, feeling the shape of him inside you. Your toes curl as his tip hits the sweet spot against your gummy walls over and over. The jewelry on your body sings with every harsh thrust, blending with the sounds of your sweet moans.
"Close?" He purrs with a slight smirk. He's watching you in the mirror, noting the way your lower lip wobbles and your mascara begins to run down your cheeks.
"Yes! Please, 'm gonna come! I—ah!—'m so close," you cry. Your breasts are squeezed against the countertop. Pebbled and sensitive nipples are trapped against the cold while the rest of your body feels the inescapable heat between your thighs. It grows and grows each time his cock slips through your tight, hot walls. Arousal leaks down your thighs and onto the dark marble floors.
"Let go for me."
Your body trembles violently against the sink, pussy clenching around him, as you come undone. You lay weakly, only held up by his arms around your waist, and catch your breath.
Sylus slips out of you, still hard, but picks you up onto his hip like always. Your whimper, burying your face into his neck, as your sensitive core rubs against him.
"What about you?" You mumble into his neck.
He chuckles, striding over to the bathtub and sitting you down on the edge, "don't worry. We're not done yet."
You hum, eyes fluttering shut as your body sways. You feel his hands on your neck, tracing the curve of your necklaces before beginning to unclasp it.
Sylus removes each piece of jewelry off your body until there is only one left.
"My greatest treasure," he murmurs, taking your hand to trace the band around your finger. "My dearest wife."
A/N — oh yeah it's all over the place... I couldn't help it after I saw his new card anywho horny time is over~ comments and reblogs always appreciated! thanks for reading! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧
he's just lying there, mouth open, eyes so wide they look glassy. not moving. not breathing right. his hands hover over your hips like he's scared to touch you.
you're the hottest thing he's ever seen and he's afraid he would burn if he touch you.
you roll your hips down slow, and the only sound in the room is his shaky little exhale and your voice. he's so quiet. no dirty talk, no growling. just these soft, punched out moans every time you sink onto him.
"you—ahh—okay baby?" you ask.
he nods all dumb, lips parted, eyes locked on where your bodies meet, then back up to your tits and face. his mouth moves but nothing comes out. then you clench around him, just a little, and his whole body jerks. his eyes roll back and he's cumming with this broken, high pitched whimper.
you're just too beautiful and he's too in love to hold it.
"ughh fuck—" he gasps, face red, hands finally gripping your waist. "pretty—y-you're so pretty—so p-pretty"
he's trying. he really is.
so just smile down at him and run your fingers through his hair. tell him he did good. he'll blink up at you all teary, still hard somehow, and whisper that he loves you.
