multiple fighters x reader
fluff- how the fighters would react to you crying
authors note: so this took me a little to write up but recently ive been going through a little bit of a tough time and was like wait id love to write about how they would comfort you when cryign so i did please enjoy :)
Khabib Nurmagomedov:
When Khabib finds you crying in the bedroom, he doesn't rush to you with soft words or gentle touches. Instead, he sits down beside you with that same steady presence he carries into the octagon, his hand finding yours with a firm grip. "Why you cry?" he asks, his accent thick, his tone direct. You try to explain through your tears, and he listens without interruption, his dark eyes never leaving your face. When you finish, he doesn't tell you everything will be fine or that it's not as bad as you think. He knows better than to lie to you like that.
"This thing, it is hard. Very hard," he says, squeezing your hand tighter. "I will not say is easy, because is not easy. Life give us difficult test, you understand? But you are not alone in this." He pulls you closer, wrapping one strong arm around your shoulders. "We will go through together. You and me, we are team. When I fight, sometimes I am tired, sometimes I want to give up, but I never give up because I know what I must do. You are same. You are strong, even when you don't feel strong." His words aren't sweet, but they're real, and somehow that makes them more comforting than any empty promise could be. "We will get through this. I promise you this thing. Together, we always get through."
Islam Makhachev:
Islam walks into the living room and immediately notices something is wrong. Your shoulders are shaking, your face buried in your hands, and he's at your side in an instant. "Hey, hey, what happen? Tell me what is wrong," he says softly, kneeling in front of you and gently pulling your hands away from your face. His eyes search yours with genuine concern as you explain what's upset you, and he nods along, really listening to every word. "Okay, okay, I understand. This is not good situation," he acknowledges, his thumb wiping away a tear from your cheek.
But then, after a moment of silence, you see that familiar glint in his eye. "You know, when Khabib get upset about something, he go wrestle bear. Maybe you need wrestle bear too?" He raises an eyebrow at you, the corner of his mouth twitching. When you let out something between a sob and a laugh, he continues. "No? Okay, good. Because I don't know where to find bear right now, and also bear probably win." He's watching your face carefully, gauging your reaction. "This thing that happen to you, in one year you will not even remember. Trust me. I have many things I think are end of world, and now I cannot even remember what they are." When you still look sad, his approach changes completely. Without warning, he scoops you up from the couch, making you yelp in surprise. "Now I must make you smile different way," he announces, and suddenly his fingers are at your sides, tickling you mercilessly. You squirm and protest, but he doesn't stop, and soon he's peppering your face with kisses, on your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, anywhere he can reach. "There! I see smile! I win!" he declares triumphantly, holding you close against his chest, and despite everything, you can't help but feel lighter.
Tagir Ulanbekov:
Tagir finds you sitting at the kitchen table, tears streaming down your face, and he immediately pulls out the chair next to you and sits down. "What happen? Talk to me," he says gently, turning his body fully toward you to show he's completely present. As you begin to explain, he doesn't interrupt, doesn't try to fix it right away. Instead, he asks questions. "And how this make you feel? What you think when this happen? This person, they say this to you directly?" He's genuinely trying to understand not just what happened, but how it affected you, and his careful attention makes you feel truly heard.
He stays with you like this for a while, helping you work through the tangle of emotions, asking more questions when you seem stuck, offering observations when they might help. "So what I hear is, you feel like you are not enough, yes? But this is not truth. This is just feeling, and feeling can lie to us sometimes." He doesn't rush you, doesn't check his phone or seem distracted. Everything else in the world can wait until you feel better. Once your breathing has steadied and the tears have slowed, he stands up. "Wait here. I bring you something." He returns with a cup of hot tea, setting it in front of you carefully. "You know, one time I cry because I lose fight. Very embarrassing. Khabib find me and you know what he say? He say, 'Why you cry? You still have face. Could be worse.'" He grins at you, and you can't help but let out a small laugh. "See? Is not so bad now, yes? We drink tea, and everything look better."
Usman Nurmagomedov:
When Usman hears you crying from the other room, he comes in quietly and sits down next to you without saying anything at first. He just stays there, his presence solid and calm beside you. "You can cry. Is okay. You need to scream, you scream. I am here," he says simply, and there's something about his permission that makes you feel safe enough to really let it out. You do cry harder, and he doesn't flinch or try to stop you. He just stays, occasionally placing a hand on your back, letting you feel whatever you need to feel.
After some time, when your sobs have turned to hiccups and shaky breaths, he speaks again. "You know, I have something like this happen to me. Different situation, but same feeling inside, you understand?" He tells you about a time when he felt overwhelmed, when he thought he couldn't handle the pressure, when everything seemed too much. "I think, maybe I am not strong enough. Maybe I cannot do this thing. But then I realize, this feeling, it come to everyone. Even strongest person have moment like this." His words aren't meant to minimize what you're going through, but to show you that you're not alone in feeling this way. He pulls you into a long, tight hug, his arms wrapped completely around you. "I am sorry this happen to you. Is not fair, and you do not deserve this," he murmurs into your hair. He holds you like this for a long time, not letting go until he feels your body relax against his, until your breathing matches his, steady and calm.
Umar Nurmagomedov:
The moment Umar sees your tears, everything else ceases to exist. He drops his gym bag right where he's standing and rushes to you. "No, no, no, what is this? Why you are crying?" His voice is filled with concern as he reaches for you, his hands gentle on your arms. "Please, tell me what happen. Talk to me." He's almost frantic in his need to understand, to help, to make it better. When you try to speak through your tears, he pulls you against him, one hand cradling the back of your head. "Shh, is okay. Everything will be okay. I promise you, everything will be okay."
His voice is so soft, so sincere, that you almost believe him immediately. He holds you like you're the most precious thing in the world, swaying slightly, murmuring reassurances in a mix of English and Russian. "You are safe. I am here. Nothing will hurt you." Once he feels you calming down a little, he guides you to the couch and sits you down. "Wait, don't move," he instructs, and disappears for a moment. He returns with a soft blanket, which he wraps around your shoulders, and then heads to the kitchen. You hear him moving around, and he comes back with a cup of tea and a small plate of crackers. "Here. You drink this, you eat little bit. Will make you feel better." He sits close beside you, tucking the blanket more securely around you, his arm around your shoulders. "I stay with you. I am not going anywhere. Whatever you need, I do for you."
Abubakar Nurmagomedov:
Abubakar's reaction is immediate and intense. The second he sees your tears, his expression darkens. "Who did this? Tell me who make you cry," he demands, his voice hard, his jaw clenched. He's already looking around as if the person responsible might be nearby. "Where are they? I will handle this. I will make them understand they cannot do this to you." His hands are balled into fists, and you can see that fighter's instinct taking over, that need to protect, to defend, to eliminate the threat.
"No, please, you can't," you manage to say through your tears, grabbing his arm. "It's not worth it. Please don't." It takes some convincing, your hand on his chest, your voice pleading, before he finally takes a deep breath and nods, though you can tell he's still angry. "Okay. Okay, I will not hurt them. But only because you ask me." His demeanor shifts then, the aggression melting into something gentler. He sits down and pulls you into his lap, positioning you so your head is against his chest. His fingers find their way into your hair, playing with it softly, the repetitive motion soothing for both of you. "I am sorry. I just... I cannot stand when someone hurt you," he murmurs, his voice much softer now. "You are everything to me. When you cry, I feel like I must fix it, I must protect you." He continues stroking your hair, his other arm wrapped securely around your waist. "Is okay now. I am here. Nobody will hurt you again. I make sure of this." His words are a promise, and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear slowly calms you down.
Amru Magomedov:
Amru is quieter than the others, but no less attentive. When he finds you upset, he doesn't bombard you with questions or dramatic reactions. He simply comes to you, his movements calm and deliberate, and wraps his arms around you. "Come here," he says softly, pulling you close. "Tell me what you feel. I want to understand." He listens as you explain, really listens, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back. He doesn't try to interrupt or offer solutions right away. He just wants to understand your heart, to know exactly what you're going through.
After you've told him everything, he guides you to lie down, positioning you so you're resting on top of him, your head on his chest. His fingers thread through your hair, playing with it gently, the motion rhythmic and calming. "I understand why you feel this way. Make sense to me. Is not stupid, is not too much. Is real, and is okay to feel this," he reassures you, his voice a low rumble beneath your ear. He continues playing with your hair, occasionally pressing kisses to the top of your head. "You know what I think? I think you are stronger than you know. This situation, is difficult, yes. But you will get through. And I am here, always here." His presence is steady, unshakeable, and in his quiet way, he makes you feel completely supported. "We stay like this as long as you need. I am not going anywhere."
Chanco:
Chanco has been through his own emotional struggles, so when he sees you crying, there's a flicker of understanding in his eyes. He knows that sometimes life hits hard, and he knows that sometimes you need to laugh to keep from breaking. "Okay, what happen?" he asks, sitting down next to you and pulling you against his side immediately. He's not going to let you sit there alone, that much is clear. "Tell me. I am listening."
When you explain what's wrong, he's quiet for a moment, processing it. Then he shakes his head. "You know what is crazy? How we think everything is end of world when it happen, but then next week we cannot even remember why we were so upset." He's not dismissing your feelings, just offering perspective in his own way. "I am not saying is not real problem. I am saying you are strong enough for this. I know because I see you handle worse." He squeezes your shoulder, his loyalty absolute. When you're still upset, he tries a different approach. "Listen, you want to know something? Last week I am so stressed about something stupid, I almost punch hole in wall. Then I remember wall cost money to fix, so I punch pillow instead. Pillow win. I lose. Very humbling experience." The corner of your mouth twitches despite yourself, and he notices immediately. "There. I see it. You try to hide smile but I catch you." He pulls you closer, his voice softening. "We get through this together, okay? You cry if you need, you laugh when you ready. I am here for both. This is what we do." His presence is steady and real, and even though he's trying to make you smile, you can feel how deeply he cares. "Come on. Let me see real smile now. Not fake one. I know difference."
Khamzat Chimaev:
To the world, Khamzat is chaos and intensity, all wild energy and bold proclamations. But when he finds you crying, that persona drops away completely. He comes to you quietly, his expression serious, concerned. "What is wrong? Tell me," he says, his voice much calmer than you've ever heard it in his interviews or trash talk. He sits close to you, his head tilted toward yours, giving you his complete attention. "I want to understand. Why you are sad? What happen to make you feel like this?" He's genuinely trying to understand, not just the situation, but you, your heart, your pain.
As you explain through your tears, he listens intently, and then gently, he pulls your head against his chest, one hand cradling it there. "Okay, okay. I understand now," he murmurs. "You know what? I tell you story. Will make you feel better." And then he starts talking, his voice soft and warm, telling you about some ridiculous thing that happened during training, about the time he and his friends got lost trying to find a restaurant and ended up in the wrong part of town, about the prank someone pulled that backfired spectacularly. His stories are funny and told with such genuine affection for his friends that you can't help but start to feel lighter. Between stories, he presses small kisses to your forehead, gentle and sweet. "See? Is not so bad. Life is funny sometimes, even when is hard. And you have me, so you never alone in hard times. I always here, always taking care of you." His thumb strokes your cheek, and in this moment, you see the real Khamzat, the one behind all the bravado, and he's exactly what you needed.
