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#takes a deep breath. okay I feel better now
Note
Could I request a poly!marauders comforting a close friend(possibly someone they have feelings for but she was dating someone else.) Just broke up with my boyfriend tonight; he wasn't honest about something vitally important and things just weren't work out out before he even came clean and I feel sick and just need comfort. Please and thank you.
hi baby! i'm so sorry about your breakup. i know there's nothing i can say to make it easier, but i hope this helps. please take it easy on yourself, and my dms are open if you need anything <3 poly!marauders x fem!reader (romantic if you squint)
cw: mentions of drinking, breakups, swearing
880 words
In your defense, when you had initially made the call you didn’t expect all this fuss. Your intention was to kindly let your friends know that you didn’t feel up to going out that night due to your unexpected heartbreak. If you had known that your call would result in two bottles of rose, a gallon of moose-tracks frozen custard, and three borderline sickeningly benevolent boys infiltrating your house, you probably would’ve gone with a vague text. Even so, you couldn’t deny that deep down, you were grateful. 
However, sobbing into the sleeves of your borrowed sweater, with a Disney movie playing in the background while you were periodically fed bites of ice cream and sips of wine was a level of vulnerability you did not expect to reach with your friends.
Every time you thought your sobs had subsided, another wave welled up inside you. You sniffled miserably, pinching your irritated nose clean. Your hands were batted away. 
“Gentle, sweetheart. Your poor face is already rubbed raw.” James kindly scolded you. You nodded, the movement making you feel more lightheaded than before. You were handed a glass of water, not the wine you were hoping for but you still took it. After taking a few sips you set it down, feeling the tears welling into your eyes again. Remus tugged you into his side, letting you nuzzle your face into his soft sweater. 
“Babe, I’m not sure that prick is worth this amount of tears.” Sirius’ tone was sweet, if not a little venomous. He was still cuffed on the back of the head by Remus. 
“Tact, pads. Have some tact.” Remus huffed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Cry as much as you need to, dove.” 
Strangely, now your tears had stopped. You sat up, though Remus still held onto you. 
“You wanna talk, now lovely girl? Or do you want to be distracted?” James held you from your other side, brushing your damp hair out of your face. 
“I don’t think I have coherent thoughts right now.” You tried to joke but your tone just came out pitiful.
“That’s okay.” Remus said, thoughtfully. “Just say what's going through your head. This is for you, dovey. It doesn’t have to make perfect sense to us, we just want to be here for you.” 
You nodded, more gently this time, and took a deep breath. “I’m just-” The lump was still in your throat, making it hard to get the words out. “I’m just so hurt, you know? Like I gave everything. I gave fucking everything to this. To him. And I guess I just thought that he would do the same. And I- I’m just so fucking stupid, because I never expected he would do something like this.” Your face screwed up like you were in pain and you fell back into Remus’ chest, silent sobs shaking your body. 
“Oh, baby.” Sirius placed a hand on your leg, rubbing his thumb back-and-forth. They let you cry for the nth time that night, never rushing or scolding you. When your cries slowed again, Sirius spoke up. “I know it hurts, dollface. I know. And I know there is nothing we can say to make it go away.” There was hurt in his voice as he said that. Sirius despised feeling helpless. And emotions were one of the things that made him feel that way the most. He always thought he was shit at comforting people, but in reality, he’s far better than he gives himself credit for. 
“Can you look at me, sweet girl?” James leaned over to catch your eyes. You let him. “Listen to me, what he chose to do says nothing, and I mean nothing about you, okay? You are not stupid, or anything of the sort. It says everything about him, that he knew he had your trust and chose to not be deserving of it. Just because he didn’t love you right, doesn’t mean that you were wrong for loving him anyway. So please, don’t ever for a moment, let his bad decisions affect how you see yourself, precious thing.” 
His words made you cry all over again, but it was different this time. James pulled you into his lap, cradling you like a baby in his arms. 
“Look at what you’ve done, prongs. You’ve broken her all over again.” Sirius said incredulously. For the first time that night, you laughed. It was wet and choked, but it still felt good. 
“There you go.” Remus squeezed your calf. “Didn’t quite like seeing you like that.” You nodded. 
“I don’t quite like being like that.” You half-laughed. James squeezed you again. 
“But if you need to be, we’re here for you, yeah?” Sirius poured you more wine. The other two boys let out loud affirmatives. 
“Thank you guys, really. I think I needed this.” You hoped the way you were looking at them showed how grateful you really were.
“Anytime, lovie.” James kissed your cheek. “Now, I think we need a movie yeah? Something silly. Like Sausage Party. Or one of those shitty horror movies that only scares Sirius.” He grinned cheekily. 
“Oi! Those are really fucking scary!” Sirius squawked. You rolled your eyes, filled to the brim with affection.
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upat4amwiththemoon · 2 days
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came up with this idea and now i can't get it out of my head lol so nat saves and adopts a teenage reader but when yelena finally meets the reader she hates her guts bc she feels like nat loves her more/has replaced her ( i imagine yelena in her 20s so not that much older than the reader) and like during a sparring session or something yelena takes it too far and like breaks the reader's arm so nat obviously blows up at her but then they eventually talk about their feelings and then yelena apologizes to the reader for acting so immature and cruel to them
Fight for affection
Summary: aka jealous Yelena has a one sided fight with a teenager.
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x daughter!reader, sisters Natasha Romanoff x Yelena Belova, Yelena Belova x teen!reader
Warnings: mean Yelena, purposeful hurting
Word count: 1983
a/n: best sister ever
Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @sayah13 @strangegardentaco @natashamaximoff69
masterlists | guidelines
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Very nervous Y/N sits on the couch, moving her leg up and down as she waits for Yelena to arrive. She has never met the woman before, but Natasha has been waiting to introduce her two favourite people to each other, so, once Yelena found a free day to come over, they immediately made plans.
It doesn’t take long for Yelena’s car to park on the driveway. Natasha goes to open the door right away, while Y/N waits in the living room, taking some deep breaths to calm herself down.
She can hear the two talking, though she isn’t fully paying attention to it. Once they start walking towards her, she stands up with a smile on her face.
Natasha and Yelena stand before her, the latter looking confused. “Yelena, this is Y/N.” She gestures at the teen with a smile.
“Hi.”
There’s a silence. “She isn’t a baby?” Yelena whispers to Natasha, but due to their closeness Y/N can hear it clearly.
Now it’s Natasha’s turn to look confused. “Why would she be a baby?”
“I thought you adopted a baby.”
“I specifically told you I adopted a teenage girl.” An annoyance grows in Natasha, not wanting to have this kind of conversation in front of her daughter.
Yelena scoffs. “Well, you can’t blame me for not hearing that. You said you adopted someone, and then I lost focus because I started thinking what to buy to a baby.”
Natasha lets out a harsh breath, but she brings a smile to her face once she notices Y/N’s tense body language. “Well, she’s not a baby.” She whispers quickly before going to set her arm over Y/N’s shoulders, bringing her closer. “This is Y/N, she is 16 years old, and I adopted her.” A proud smile adorns her face as she looks down at her daughter.
“Hi.” She says again, bringing a slightly shaky hand forward. “It’s nice to meet you, Yelena.”
A tense silence follows. Yelena has a frown on her face, but it disappears quickly when she glances at Natasha. “Hey, you too.” Her voice doesn’t match the enthusiasm that Y/N has and the hand shake feels very forceful.
They move on quickly, going to sit down on the couch to talk. For the rest of the time they’re together, Yelena has a subtle glare fixed on Y/N, especially whenever Natasha touches her.
Her sister speaks so highly of this teenager, but Yelena doesn’t see what’s so great about her that she doesn’t have. They’re both grew up in a bad place, they both know how to fight, though Yelena would bet her whole fortune she’s better at it, and they were saved by Natasha. The biggest difference they have, is that Natasha has known Yelena so much longer. So, why does it seem like she care for the teenager more than her?
Once Yelena starts to leave, she is in a sour mood. It’s like the younger girl is flaunting Natasha’s love and care in front of her face.
“-sit us soon again?”
She lifts her head to look at Natasha. “Huh?”
Natasha lets out a laugh. “Will you come visit us soon again?”
“Right.” She sighs. “Maybe. I have a busy schedule.”
“Okay, we’ll see you at the compound some time then.” Natasha hugs Yelena. “Bye bye.”
“Bye, sestra.”
“Bye!” Y/N waves, half of her body hidden behind Natasha.
Yelena walks to her car, completely ignoring her.
The next time they meet up is at the Avengers Compound, and Yelena’s feelings have not changed. If anything, her hatred and jealousy have grown while having time to wallow in those feelings alone.
Natasha and Yelena are talking in the compound’s living room, while Y/N is sitting in silence, only following the conversation from the sidelines. She can feel Yelena’s dislike, but she is too afraid to comment on it.
“Hey, Nat?” Steve pops up from the hallway. “Could you help me out with a report now that you’re here?”
“Of course,” she stands up, “I’ll be back soon.”
The smile on Yelena’s face disappears when she notices the assurance was given to Y/N instead of herself. The jealousy bubbles to the surface once again.
“Y/N.”
Her wide eyes snap to Yelena. This is the first time she has been talked to by Yelena since they first met. “Yeah?” There’s a sliver of nervousness in her voice. A sliver, that Yelena can hear.
“Do you want to train together to pass the time?”
“Uhm,” she doesn’t, “I guess so.”
“Great!” The grin on Yelena’s face is unmistakable. “Follow me,” they start walking towards the training room, “the compound has the best supplies to train anything and everything you want.”
Once they get into the training room, Yelena leads Y/N straight to the mat placed on the middle of the room. Y/N feels the mat under her feet, it’s soft enough to make landings bearable, but it won’t take the pain completely away.
“You were trained in hand to hand combat when you were at HYDRA, yes?”
Y/N’s face screws up at the mention of the organization she was saved from. “Yes.”
Yelena gets into position, her hands raised and feet apart. “Good, then this won’t be a problem for you.” Before Y/N has time to prepare herself, Yelena is already lunging at her.
With a blink of an eye, she is on the ground. Y/N groans, looking up at Yelena with a frown.
“Come on!” Yelena claps her hands together. “Up, up, you gotta be ready.”
Y/N takes a breath and stands up, this time getting into position before Yelena can fully surprise her.
They start sparring.
It’s more like fighting, at least on Yelena’s side.
Y/N is good at fighting, but Yelena is better. She is older, she is bigger, and she was in the Red Room for a long time.
She gets slammed to the mat two more times before she starts panting, her hands on her knees. “I think I’m done.” Her voice comes out as a mumble.
“Come on! Don’t be a party pooper.” Yelena circles around her. “One more round, this time like you mean it.”
Y/N doesn’t have time to disagree. She desperately fight back against Yelena’s onslaught of hits and kicks.
After five minutes, she gets dropped to the ground, again.
She lays there on the ground, her breathing heavy and laboured. But Yelena doesn’t seem to be finished. There’s a certain fire in her eyes as she brings her foot up. Fear runs through Y/N’s body as her wide eyes are stuck on the bottom of Yelena’s boot.
A loud crack echoes through the training room.
Y/N cries out, rolling to her side to hold her now broken arm against her chest. Yelena’s eyes widen, shocked by what she did, though the feeling goes away just as quick.
Unfortunately for her, an immense feeling of guilt fills her body when a loud “Yelena!” comes from the door. Natasha comes running in, instantly kneeling to Y/N’s side. “What the hell was going on in your head?” She practically growls out while lifting up her daughter, shushing her in a comforting manner when she lets out a cry of pain.
Yelena opens her mouth to speak, though she doesn’t know what she could even say, but a harsh glare from Natasha shuts her up. She stays in the training room while Natasha and Y/N leave to the medical room.
After three excruciatingly long hours of pacing in her room, a knock on the door finally breaks the silence. Yelena opens the door, instantly stepping to the side to let Natasha walk inside.
“What were you thinking?” Natasha’s arms are crossed over her chest as she stares at her sister with an icy glare. “She’ll be okay, thank god for that, but she has a broken arm, Yelena.”
“I’m sorry.” She whispers.
Natasha shakes her head. “Sorry isn’t going to cut it now. You’ve been incredibly cold to her, and I chalked it up to nerves, but this,” her brows are raised as she gestures around, “this is unacceptable. She’s my daughter, Yelena. I can’t have you around her if you’re going to hurt her.”
“I won’t!” Her eyes are turning misty from tears and her voice wavers. “I- I don’t know what came over me. I was feeling…jealous…and, and insecure.”
“Why?”
Yelena tugs at the skin on her fingers, at times pressing her nails against her palm as her eyes drop to the ground. “I was scared you’d love me less.” A few tears fall down her cheeks at the confession.
A deep sigh leaves Natasha’s mouth. She rubs the space between her brows. “I love you, Yelena, I would never love you less. But I also have so much love for Y/N, she is my daughter.” There’s no anger in her tone anymore, but there’s a certain steadiness to make sure Yelena fully hears her. “I love both of you so, so much.”
Yelena nods. “I’m sorry.”
“You need to apologize to her.” Natasha mumbles, combing her fingers through her hair. “I’m really upset right now, so I’m going to leave.”
“I’ll make it up, okay?”
Natasha opens the door. “Make it up by treating my daughter well, be genuinely nice to her. You hear me? She is my daughter, that means she is your family too.”
“She’s my niece.” Yelena whispers with a nod, fully absorbing the words. She hurt her niece.
After Natasha leaves and Yelena has a minute to gather herself, she makes her way to the infirmary.
She knocks on the door gently, opening it after she hears a quiet come in. Yelena steps inside. “Hey.”
Y/N lifts her head. “Hi.” She scratches the cast on her arm, her eyes anywhere else but Yelena.
Clearing her throat, she takes a few careful steps inside, stopping beside the hospital bed. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, truly.” She whispers, her eyes on Y/N. “I was an asshole, an insecure and jealous asshole, who was scared that her sister would love me less because she got a daughter.” She lets out a butter laugh. “Which was very stupid of me, because I know Natasha isn’t like that.”
“She’s pretty great.” Y/N whispers.
“She is.” Yelena sits on the chair next to the bed. “She is my sister and you are her daughter, which makes you my niece. And…I’ve always wanted a niece, even though it might not be obvious from the way I’ve acted. I want to be what Natasha was to me for someone, except a little more fun, you know? I’d let you break the rules and drink a little bit and I’d teach you how to run away from the cops.”
Y/N giggles softly, glancing at Yelena every so often, but never looking at her for too long.
“Could we start over, maybe? I could be the aunt that you deserve.” There’s a silence as Y/N stares at the cast while biting the inside of her cheek. “You don’t have to be scared of me.” Yelena whispers. “Which I know is a stupid thing to say after I-“ she glances at the cast, “after I broke your arm.”
“Yeah.” She lets out a shaky breath. “I’m a little scared of you, but I’d like to have an aunt.” Y/N raises her head, giving Yelena a small smile.
Yelena smiles back, wider than ever. She inches closer to the edge of the seat, gently setting her hand on Y/N’s healthy hand. “I will make it up to you, I promise. I’ll spoil you so much.” She grins, already excited with the idea of buying things to her niece.
“Okay.” She laughs, already feeling better despite her broken arm.
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muddyorbsblr · 3 days
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come on, england
'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!
Placement: about a year after 'a sizing mishap'
Summary: When the video director for Tom's promo seems uncomfortable with articulating the vision that was instructed of him, you step in to help things along
Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: a tiny bit of dirty talk; little to no plot in this i just wrote it for the thirst [let me know if i missed anything!]
Things to be aware of: we're in a new era (reveal at the end author notes)
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This feels familiar, you thought to yourself, watching Tom walk in front of the camera, wearing a white and blue jersey with the number 6 in the middle. He looked to the side of the camera, his eyes meeting yours for a fraction of a moment, before putting on his game face and returning his focus to the lens, looking like he was about to give a pep talk.
"Come on, England!" he exclaimed, with an enthusiasm that felt better suited for a stage performing Shakespeare. Fitting, considering how the target audience were to be sports enthusiasts that Soccer Aid wanted to attract and fill seats next Sunday.
The man behind the camera threw up his hand, scratching the back of his head as he shouted, "Cut!" It was obvious that while he had done a magnificent job, as always, this didn't quite fit with the vision they had in mind. "That was…great, Tom. Really it was. But maybe we could go again but this time a bit more…encouraging?"
"You mean like louder, yeah?"
"No actually maybe a bit…softer?"
Despite his efforts to keep his expression unchanging, you could see the questions swirling in Tom's oceanic eyes. You'd known him far too long that those minute changes no longer got past you. And long enough that you could wager a guess that the questions popping up in his head were the same as yours.
If they want encouraging, then that last take should have done it. It's the tone the sports fans respond to. It's their catnip.
But as soon as the director said, "Maybe like…soothing?", the real vision clicked into place. The target audience for this promotional video wasn't the sports fans at all.
"You mean seductive?" you spoke up from your seat, shifting your posture to cross your leg over the other and resting your arms on your knee. "Enticing?"
"That's--preposterous I would never--"
"Come on, you and I both know who you have in front of the camera. And the type of crowd you want filling in the rest of the seats of that stadium, it's okay. But see, he's not gonna give you the performance you see in your head if you keep trying to dance around the words," you explained, motioning toward both of them. "You want him to play it sexy, just say the words."
"I can't it feels weird, ma'am," he finally blurted out. "These were just the instructions relayed to me, that the feel should be--"
"Tantalizing," you finished for him, trying to hold back a chuckle at how his face reddened as he nodded. You stood up, smoothing your hands over the fabric of your navy blue jumpsuit. "Alright then, show me how to operate the camera."
You walked over to look at the instructions that he referred to, your skin prickling at the scrawled words of 'Make sure he doesn't show his left hand'.
'Bedroom voice pls', another one said in bright sky blue ink.
"I know that look, sweetheart," Tom spoke up. "Are you alright?"
You made your way to him, your shoulders immediately relaxing when he wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you to him as he pressed his lips to your forehead. "Nothing we haven't dealt with before," you answered him, taking a deep breath and smiling at the comfort you felt from his signature citrusy leathery scent. "Now for this take…how about we try you walking into the shot? And then you stare the camera down while you say the line? Forget encouraging and just…"
Identical wide smiles stretched across your faces as you whispered a scenario to him that you believed could get his voice to where the organizers' vision wanted it to be. He slid his hand down the side of your body, giving you a playful little tap on the ass right as you walked back toward the camera.
The video director showed you how to start rolling on the camera then stepped aside to let you run the shot. "Ready, sweetie?"
He threw you a look that had you fighting not to squirm where you stood, answering you in that gravelly tone you were intimately familiar with. "For you, goddess? Always."
You positioned yourself squarely behind the camera, throwing up your hand to count him down to his cue. 3…2…1…Go.
Tom walked into the shot, his eyes meeting yours behind the camera. He took a breath, adjusting his stance to have his feet shoulder-width apart and placing his hands on his hips. His eyes roamed your features with the slightest whisper of the hunger and mischief that you were accustomed to when you were within the privacy of your home. And then he spoke, his voice low and raspy that it immediately brought your thoughts to that scenario you whispered in his ear minutes before.
Imagine that it's just you and me, sneaking in a quickie on the day bed in our study and failing because you're talking me into just one more round. Talking me into making more of a mess on you so we end up in the shower. Or the bathtub.
"Come on, England," he said softly, squinting his eyes at the lens. At you. And then he pursed his lips, fighting back the smile that threatened to follow through once he clocked how your eyes had glazed over, knowing exactly where your mind had wandered.
"Cut!" the video director's voice rang through the little studio, audibly more excited over the take compared to the last. "That was perfect, Tom. I think we got everything we need for your video." He rushed over to you, holding his hand out for you to shake. "You're phenomenal."
"That she is," Tom chirped up, taking his place by your side and settling his hand comfortably on your waist. "Always a blessing whenever we find ourselves able to work together."
"Have you ever thought of directing, Miss H? I'd be more than happy to share the co-directing credit on this with--"
"Ohh absolutely not," you cut him off, laughing the suggestion away. "Too much responsibility. Always happy to assist but I don't think I'll ever want that workload on my shoulders no matter what the scope or scale. I'm more than happy letting you sign this video off as fully yours. And those higher ups that left you those instructions would probably be very happy with you, too."
You saw how Tom craned his head to see the instructions that had been left for the video director, his hand tensing for a moment before his thumb stroked at your side, the motion soothing both of you.
"I'll let them know though that it wouldn't have been possible without your input, at least. Do you prefer Y/N H. or just Miss H?"
Oh I'm sure they'll love that, you thought to yourself, already imagining the bitter sneers this poor guy was about to witness. "You know what, just tell them Mrs. Hiddleston says 'you're welcome'."
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A/N: Okay so we have 2 welcomes in this chapter…First welcome back to the Soccer Aid Collection. Apparently we're gonna have 2024 chapters added because I couldn't help myself so this thirst piece happened, and the chaos is probably gonna go down where I'm writing for both 2023 Soccer Aid and 2024 Soccer Aid at the same time because I am just…slow…lol
But anyways…welcome to the married era 😳🥹 I honestly have so much planned to get these blorbos to where they are right now, and I had a different chapter in mind to reveal to y'all that this is what we're working towards, but things happen, plans change…Tomathy walks out in that jersey with the long hair, gets me struggling not to say the d-word, and effectively derails those plans in the best way possible 😅🫡
'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist
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invisible-lint · 12 hours
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Everything Could Be Okay: Chapter 4
Rhys x Tamlin's sister!reader
Summary: You tell Feyre about the bond and come up with an idea
Warnings: none
Word Count: 2.1k
Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3
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You're surprised your pacing hasn't worn a hole in the floor. You had finished your bath and dressed. Eaten the food that had been brought in for you, and even braided your hair. But you couldn't convince yourself to leave the relative safety of this room. Because you knew yourself and you knew that you wouldn't be delicate about it. No, the moment you see Feyre, you're going to just blurt it all out. And you're not sure how she’ll react. You love her as if she were actually your sister. Some days, you feel as if you may love her more than your brother. You're not sure you could stand it if she hated you.  So here you are, pacing like a coward. You suppose you should just do it. A wound doesn’t hurt any less if you know it’s coming. 
You wipe your hands on the pants of the night court attire, trying not to squirm. It was the first time you had ever worn pants and you weren't sure how you felt about the way the material gathered between your legs. It'd have to do for now, there weren't any dresses in the wardrobe. 
You finally force yourself to leave the bedroom, heading for the library. You linger outside for a moment before taking a breath and walking in over to where Feyre sits. You pull the chair out and sit across from her, but the moment she looks up from the paper and sets the quill down, your nerves get the best of you, and you stand back up, starting to pace again. Feyre watches you, curious.
“What is it?”
“Rhys. Rhysand is my mate.” You pick at the cuff of the shirt.
“Oh. Does that mean you're going to stay here?”
“No. I'll still go back to Spring with you when it's time.” You look at her, trying to gauge her reaction, but her face is blank, expressionless. 
“Why?”
“Because I don't want you to have to deal with the fallout by yourself. And because I don't want to leave you there alone.”
“I wouldn't be alone. I have Tamlin.” 
“Feyre…” You barely manage to hold back a sigh. 
“What?” 
“Do you want to marry him?” You reach for her hand, trying to offer comfort, but she pulls her hand away, anger dancing across her features. 
“Why do you keep asking me that?” 
“Because I don't think you do.” 
“I think you should stay here.”
You bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from flinching, uncertain why the words hurt so much. “Why do you think that?” 
“Because you're miserable there. That's why you think I don't want to marry Tamlin. Because you're worried about me ending up like you. But I won't. Because I love him and he loves me.” You do flinch that time. Were you truly so miserable that everyone knew it? You had thought you had done a good job hiding it around Feyre at the very least, and the realization makes guilt sink in your stomach like lead. 
“Is that enough for you? Is the life he will allow you enough? Planning parties and birthing heirs?” 
“Do you think your life here will be anything different?” Her words sting. Rhys was nothing like Tamlin. 
“That’s not the point, Feyre.” You press your palms against your legs, breathing deep, to try to keep your temper at bay. 
“No? What is the point then?” Feyre crosses her arms, her gaze hard. 
“You're already miserable in Spring, but you're not trapped. At least not yet. That doesn't have to be your life.” You sit down across from her, trying to soften your gaze, eyes pleading.
“You're not trapped if you want to be there. I just… I just need the mating bond to snap and then everything will be better.” 
You nod, chewing your lip, reaching for her hand again. She uncrosses her arms, letting you take it this time. An olive branch, you suppose. 
“You think you're mates?”
She nods. “I do.” 
You force a smile. “Well, now I understand why you got so defensive when I suggested you didn't want to marry him. I'm sorry, Feyre.”
She smiles back. “So am I. I could have told you. So… Rhys is your mate? How do you feel about that?”
You blow out a breath, slumping in the chair. “I… Need some time to wrap my head around it.” 
She nods. “Because of your family?”
You manage to hold back a grimace. Of course Tamlin told her about that. You're sure he left out the part that made him look bad. The reason why Rhys and the previous High Lord had killed your family. 
“Not really. I spent more time in close proximity to our family than Tamlin did. Aside from our mother… They were not good males. They deserved what happened to them.” You notice the way Feyre's eyes widen in surprise. She looks like she has more questions she wants to ask, but you keep talking. “No, I'm not quite ready to move on yet. I need a little more time.” She pulls her hand away, guilt shadowing her face. You can see it as she retreats into herself. You stand from your chair, walking around the table to kneel in front of her, taking both of her hands in yours. 
“I will never, ever, blame you Feyre. You never have and never will be to blame for what I lost. I wish you could have come into our lives another way, because you have become like a sister to me and I am so glad that I have gotten to know you.” 
You're both tearing up, but Feyre is smiling, and you do too. 
“You've become like a sister to me too. Can I ask you something?” 
You nod. “Of course, anything.” 
“Would Andras want you to be miserable? Or would he want you to move on?” 
You stare at her not saying anything, but your silence must answer for you, because she nods, squeezing your hands.
“That's why you should stay. So you can move on, because I don't think you can in Spring.” 
“I’ll find a way. But I want to come up with something that keeps Tamlin from wrecking too much furniture.” 
Feyre rolls her eyes, shaking her head, but the smile is still on her face. You stand, letting go of her hands. “I'll let you get back to your letter practice. I found a music room with a piano in it and Rhys said he would get me new music to learn! It's been so long since I've had new music!” 
The guilt that had been gripping Feyre's chest tight ever since she had become your friend, your sister, loosens itself at the way your eyes light up with excitement. 
“I'll have to find you later so I can listen.” 
You smile, squeezing her shoulder as you leave, finding your way back to the music room, just in time to see Rhys laying a packet of music on the piano bench. He turns to look at you when you enter, smiling at the smile on your face. 
“I take it your conversation with Feyre went well then?” 
“It did. We both lost our tempers, said some unkind things, but we also said things that the other needed to hear. She thinks I should stay.” 
He raises an eyebrow. “And what do you think?” 
“I think she's right. I'll never be able to move on as long as I'm still in Spring. There are too many memories there, too many reminders. And I know it's what Andras would want. I know that if the bond had snapped while he was alive, he would have been cautious. Probably would have insisted on being here with me, but he would have encouraged me to explore it. He would not want me to be miserable.” 
Rhys nods, walking over to take your hand, brushing his thumb across the back of it. “We take this at your pace. Whatever you want.” 
“I'd like for us to be friends first. I want to get to know you. The real you. Rhys, not Rhysand.” 
“I think that could be arranged.” He smiles, violet eyes twinkling with stars. 
“And I'd like some dresses. I don't like wearing pants.” 
He laughs. “That also could be arranged.” 
You look over the male in front of you, your mate, eyes lighting up as the start of an idea forms in your head. 
“Tell me everything about Feyre's bargain, bargain tattoos and bargain magic.”
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It's nearly the final day when you burst into the library, Rhys following close behind. Feyre jumps, quill scratching across the parchment, startled by your sudden entrance.
“I came up with an idea so that I can stay here. When Rhys takes you back, he’ll tell Tamlin that I made a bargain with him to release you from your bargain. You have to return to the Night Court two more times to make up for the remainder of the three months missed, but once those weeks are over, as long as I remain in the night court, you don't have to return. You and I will also make a bargain, but we'll get into that when Rhys leaves.” You glance at him over your shoulder, giving him a pointed look. He raises his hands in mock surrender, turning to leave, tugging on the bond as he does. You shake your head, grinning. 
“I think overall it's a good idea. Why are we making a bargain?”
“Because I want to know that you're okay. I know you want to be in Spring. And I understand why now. But if anything ever changes, I want you to tell me and we’ll get you. I don't care if it's a week from now or 100 years from now. You'll always be there because you choose to be.”
“And you won't be upset if I do?” 
“Of course not. I hope the way I pushed hasn't made you feel like I would be. I really did think I was helping.” 
“I know you did. What will our bargain be?”
“Rhys said it can be something simple, as long as it remains unfulfilled, or is open ended, the tattoo and the bond that comes with the bargain will remain.” Feyre nods, waiting for you to tell her your idea. “We promise to write to each other once a week for the rest of our lives.”
“You made Rhys leave for that?” She raises an eyebrow.
You grin. “Yeah, I did.” 
She laughs. “I accept your bargain.” 
You feel the tattoo appear on the inside of your forearm, near your elbow and roll up your sleeve to take a look. You smile and the cluster of flowers that appeared on your skin.
“Little lillies?” Feyre asks.
“No,” you say, shaking your head. “Alstroemeria. Flowers have symbolic meanings and this one  means friendship, love, strength, and devotion. It's for people who help each other through the trials and tribulations of life.”
“For sisters.” Feyre stands, pulling you into a hug.
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You pace in the study, waiting for Rhys to return from taking Feyre back to Spring. It shouldn't be taking this long, should it? You had sent Feyre back with a letter for Tamlin, explaining that you had felt responsible for Feyre's bargain with Rhys, so you had made the bargain to take her place. She would give it to him after Rhys left. 
You tug on the bond, trying to make yourself relax, managing to do so when you find it firmly in place. You would know if something was wrong. He was probably just antagonizing your brother. 
Rhys winnows back in, crossing over to you, placing his hands on your shoulders to stop your pacing. “If you keep going you might wear a hole in the rug, and I'm rather fond of this one.” 
“How did it go?” You drop your shields enough to let him in so he can show you, grimacing at what you see. 
“Don't fret, Darling. It could have been worse.” 
“It absolutely could have. I'm just not a fan of the way he pulled Feyre away from you. If he's not careful, he's going to hurt her.” You frown, brow furrowed. 
“If he does, we’ll know.” He taps the spot where your tattoo is. You nod, trying to force yourself not to worry. Part of you still wishes you had gone back with her. 
“So what now? You bring me to your Court?”
He nods. “I do, but not the Court of Nightmares. I bring you to my true court, to my home. I bring you to Velaris.”
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A/N: And there it is! It took a completely different path than I was expecting. Unless I get super inspired and write the next chapter between now and Monday, the next chapter will not be posted until the 17th at the earliest. I will keep my requests open, because I'll probably still write, I just won't be editing and posting!
Divider by @tsunami-of-tears
Taglist: @lilah-asteria @readingislife2006 @acourtofimagines @mistymoocow @irelanrose
@darker-december @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @loving-and-dreaming @bravo-delta-eccho
@sidthedollface2 @oucereeng @jesskidding3 @panther-girl-124 @jiarkives
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estellan0vella · 12 hours
Text
Art of the Not-So-Graceful Swoon and Serious Conversations ❀ includes: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna, Toji, Megumi, Yuji, Yuta, Toge & Nobara (Requested as SMAU but I did it as a written piece because I didn't think an SMAU was the best way to approach this topic)
CW: DISORDERED EATING MENTIONED
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You stand in the middle of the kitchen, feeling dizzy. The room spins slightly, and you grab onto the counter for support. Satoru Gojo, your boyfriend, is sitting at the table, casually munching on some snacks. He looks up and his expression shifts from playful to concerned in an instant.
"Hey, are you okay?" he asks, standing up quickly.
You try to nod, but the movement makes your vision blur. You haven't eaten properly in days. The constant struggle with food has taken its toll, and your body is finally giving in. Before you can respond, your knees buckle, and you collapse.
"Hey! Y/N!" Satoru's voice is filled with panic as he rushes to your side.
The world goes dark for a moment. When you come to, you're lying on the couch, a cool cloth on your forehead. Satoru is kneeling beside you, his eyes wide with worry. He brushes a stray hair out of your face, his touch gentle.
"You scared me," he says softly. "What happened?"
You take a deep breath, feeling weak and embarrassed. "I... I haven't been eating much," you admit, avoiding his gaze.
Satoru's expression shifts from concern to something deeper, a mix of hurt and understanding. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asks, his voice gentle but firm. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"
You feel a lump in your throat. "I didn't want to bother you," you mumble. "I thought I could handle it on my own."
He sighs, sitting down next to you. "You don't have to handle everything alone. I'm here for you. Always."
Tears well up in your eyes, and you quickly wipe them away. "It's just... it's hard," you confess. "I struggle with food. Sometimes, it's like my mind just won't let me eat, no matter how much I want to."
Satoru takes your hand, squeezing it gently. "You don't have to fight this battle by yourself," he says softly. "We can figure this out together. But you need to eat, okay? Your health is important to me. You are important to me."
His words hit you hard, and you finally let the tears fall. Satoru pulls you into a gentle hug, holding you as you cry. His presence is comforting, his embrace warm and safe. After a few moments, you pull back, feeling a bit lighter.
"I don't want to be a burden," you whisper.
"You're not a burden," Satoru insists, his eyes meeting yours. "You're my partner. We support each other. That's what a relationship is about."
You nod, feeling a mix of relief and fear. "I'll try," you promise. "But it's going to be hard."
"I know," he says. "But we'll take it one step at a time. Together."
He stands up and heads to the kitchen. You watch as he prepares a simple meal, bringing it over to you. "Here," he says, offering you a small plate. "Just a little bit to start. We can work up from here."
You take the plate, your hands shaking slightly. "Thank you," you say, feeling a warmth spread through your chest.
Satoru smiles, sitting back down beside you. "We'll get through this," he says confidently. "And I'll be right here with you, every step of the way."
You nod, taking a small bite. It's a small victory, but with Satoru by your side, it feels like the beginning of something better. The road ahead is uncertain, but you're not alone. And for now, that's enough.
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The room spins around you, the edges of your vision blurring into a hazy fog. You've been pushing yourself too hard, neglecting meals, telling yourself you’ll eat later. But later never comes, and now the toll it's taken on your body is undeniable. Suguru's voice, usually a comforting hum in the background, seems distant and distorted. You can barely make out the words, your mind struggling to keep up.
"Suguru, I…" Your voice trails off, weak and unsteady. You reach out, trying to grasp something, anything to steady yourself, but your fingers find only empty air. The last thing you see before everything goes dark is Suguru's worried face, his eyes widening in alarm as he realizes what's happening.
When you come to, you're lying on the couch, a cool cloth pressed to your forehead. Suguru is kneeling beside you, his hand gently stroking your hair. His expression is a mix of concern and relief as he notices your eyes flutter open.
"You're awake," he says softly, his voice steady but edged with worry. "How are you feeling?"
You try to sit up, but a wave of dizziness forces you to lie back down. "I'm okay," you manage to say, though even you can hear the strain in your voice. "Just… dizzy."
Suguru's brow furrows. "You fainted. Do you know why?" His tone is gentle, but you can sense the underlying worry. He's always been attentive, always noticed when something was off. And you know you can’t hide the truth from him.
"I… I haven't been eating much," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's just been hard lately."
He nods, his expression softening with understanding. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asks quietly. There's no accusation in his voice, only concern. "You know you can talk to me about anything."
"I didn't want to worry you," you confess, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "I thought I could handle it on my own."
Suguru sighs, his hand never stopping its gentle movements through your hair. "You don't have to handle everything by yourself," he says. "I'm here for you, always. Please, don't shut me out."
The sincerity in his words breaks down the last of your defenses, and the tears you've been holding back spill over. "I'm sorry," you whisper, feeling the weight of your struggles crashing down on you. "I just… I didn't know how to talk about it."
He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "It's okay," he murmurs. "We'll get through this together. But you need to take care of yourself. Skipping meals isn't the answer."
You nod, wiping at your eyes. "I know. I'll try. It's just… hard."
"I know it is," he says, his voice filled with compassion. "But we'll take it one step at a time. We'll make a plan, and I'll help you stick to it. You're not alone in this."
His words are a balm to your aching heart. For the first time in a long while, you feel a glimmer of hope. With Suguru by your side, maybe you can find a way through this. You take a deep breath, letting the warmth of his presence fill you with a renewed sense of determination.
"Thank you," you say, your voice steadier now. "For being here. For understanding."
Suguru smiles, a soft, reassuring smile that makes you feel like everything might just be okay. "Always," he promises. "We'll face this together."
And with those words, you know that you're not alone. With Suguru's support, you're ready to confront your struggles, one step at a time.
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You’re standing in the kitchen with Kento Nanami, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mixing with the aroma of the breakfast he’s prepared. The sight of the food—crispy bacon, scrambled eggs, perfectly toasted bread—makes your stomach churn. It’s been days since you’ve had a proper meal, but the anxiety that knots your insides at the thought of eating is stronger than your hunger.
“Are you alright?” Nanami’s voice is calm, but there’s a hint of concern in his eyes as he sets a plate in front of you. You nod, forcing a smile. The last thing you want is to worry him.
“I’m fine,” you lie, your voice barely above a whisper.
He watches you, his gaze steady and unwavering. You can feel the weight of his worry, but you’re determined not to let it show. You pick up your fork, your hand trembling slightly, and take a small bite. It feels like a rock in your stomach.
“You haven’t been eating much lately,” he says softly, sitting down across from you. “Is something wrong?”
You shake your head, the room starting to spin slightly. “I’m just not very hungry.”
Nanami’s eyes narrow, his expression unreadable. He reaches across the table, taking your hand in his. “You need to take care of yourself,” he says, his voice gentle but firm. “Skipping meals isn’t healthy.”
“I know,” you murmur, but even as you speak, your vision blurs. You can feel yourself slipping, the edges of the world fading to black. The last thing you see is the alarm in Nanami’s eyes as he calls your name.
When you come to, you’re lying on the couch, Nanami kneeling beside you. His hand is cool against your forehead, his expression a mix of relief and worry.
“Thank goodness,” he breathes, helping you sit up slowly. “You fainted. When was the last time you ate?”
You look away, shame flooding through you. “I… I don’t remember,” you admit, your voice barely audible.
Nanami’s sigh is heavy with frustration and concern. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, his tone softer now. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”
Tears well up in your eyes, and you bite your lip, trying to hold them back. “I… I’ve been struggling,” you confess. “With food. It’s hard to explain. I just… I can’t bring myself to eat sometimes. It’s like… this fear, this anxiety, it takes over and I can’t…”
Nanami pulls you into a gentle embrace, his arms strong and reassuring around you. “You don’t have to explain everything right now,” he murmurs. “But you need to know that I’m here for you. You don’t have to go through this alone.”
You nod against his chest, the tears spilling over now. It feels like a weight has been lifted, just admitting the truth. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t want to worry you.”
“I’m always going to worry about you,” he replies, brushing a tear from your cheek. “Because I care about you. We’ll get through this together, alright? But you have to let me help you.”
You take a deep breath, nodding again. “Okay,” you say softly. “I’ll try.”
Nanami smiles, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “That’s all I ask,” he says. “One step at a time.”
You lean into his embrace, feeling a glimmer of hope. It’s not going to be easy, but with Nanami by your side, you know you can face whatever comes next.
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You wake up feeling a familiar tightness in your chest, the kind that has been gnawing at you for days now. It's the hunger, or rather, the lack of desire to eat. You drag yourself out of bed, your limbs feeling heavier than usual, and head towards the kitchen where Choso is already busying himself with breakfast.
He looks up and smiles when he sees you, his dark eyes warm with affection. "Morning," he says, flipping a pancake with practiced ease. "I made your favorite."
You force a smile and mumble a greeting, avoiding his gaze. The smell of food wafts through the air, and instead of making you hungry, it churns your stomach with anxiety. You know you should eat, but the thought of putting anything in your mouth makes you feel nauseous.
Choso sets a plate in front of you, pancakes stacked high, syrup glistening. "Eat up," he says cheerfully, sitting across from you with his own plate. You pick up your fork, but the sight of the food blurs as your vision starts to tunnel. Your head feels light, and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears.
"Are you okay?" Choso's voice sounds distant, concerned.
You nod, but it's a lie, and before you can stop it, everything goes black.
When you come to, you're on the floor with Choso's worried face hovering above you. "Hey, hey, stay with me," he says, his voice gentle but firm. "You fainted."
You blink, trying to make sense of what happened. The memory rushes back, and shame floods your system. You struggle to sit up, but Choso's hands on your shoulders keep you steady.
"Easy," he says. "Take it slow."
"I'm sorry," you whisper, feeling tears prick at your eyes.
"Don't apologize," he replies, helping you sit up and then moving to sit beside you on the floor. "But we need to talk about this."
You nod, swallowing hard. "I know."
Choso sighs, his hand reaching out to take yours. "You've been skipping meals, haven't you?"
You don't trust your voice, so you just nod again.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks, his tone gentle but with an edge of frustration. "I could have helped."
"I didn't want to bother you," you admit, looking down at your intertwined hands. "I thought I could handle it on my own."
"You don't have to handle everything alone," he says, squeezing your hand. "Especially not something like this. I love you, and that means I want to help you, even with the hard stuff."
You take a deep breath, the words you've been avoiding finally coming to the surface. "I’ve been struggling with food for a while now. Eating feels like a chore, and sometimes I just… can't."
Choso's eyes soften, and he shifts closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Thank you for telling me," he says quietly. "But we need to make sure you're getting the nutrition you need. Fainting isn't something we can ignore."
"I know," you say, leaning into his embrace. "I want to get better. I just don't know how."
"We'll figure it out together," he promises. "Maybe we can see a nutritionist or a therapist, someone who specializes in this. But for now, let's start small. Can you try to eat something? Just a little?"
You nod, feeling a flicker of hope. "Okay. I'll try."
Choso smiles and helps you to your feet, leading you back to the table. The pancakes are still there, a little cold but still inviting. He cuts a small piece and hands you the fork. You take it, feeling a bit more steady with him by your side.
As you take your first bite, Choso watches you with a mix of concern and pride. "We'll take it one step at a time," he says. "I'm here with you, always."
You nod, chewing slowly, and for the first time in a long time, you feel like maybe, just maybe, things will get better. With Choso by your side, you know you won't have to face this struggle alone.
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The room spins as you clutch the edge of the counter, your vision blurring and darkening at the edges. Your head feels light, and your stomach clenches painfully, reminding you of the meals you’ve skipped over the past few days. Sukuna's voice is distant, an echo in the back of your mind, as you try to focus on his face, but your body betrays you. The last thing you see before everything goes black is his eyes widening in surprise.
When you come to, you’re on the couch, a cool cloth on your forehead and Sukuna’s face hovering above you, etched with uncharacteristic concern. His crimson eyes narrow as he sees you stir.
“You fainted,” he says flatly, though you detect a hint of worry beneath his usual gruffness. “What the hell happened?”
You try to sit up, but Sukuna’s large hand gently presses you back down. “Take it easy,” he commands. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”
You close your eyes, a wave of shame washing over you. You’ve been struggling with food, your relationship with it complicated and fraught with anxiety. But admitting this to Sukuna, of all people, feels impossible. You don’t want him to see you as weak.
“I… I haven’t been eating much,” you finally whisper, your voice barely audible. “It’s been hard.”
He’s silent for a moment, and you dare to open your eyes, expecting to see disappointment or anger. Instead, his expression is unreadable, a mix of frustration and something softer that you can’t quite name.
“Why?” His tone is demanding, but there’s a gentleness there too, hidden beneath the surface. “Why aren’t you eating?”
“It’s complicated,” you say, turning your face away. “I just… I can’t. Sometimes, it feels easier not to eat at all.”
Sukuna’s fingers tighten around yours, not painfully, but with a firmness that grounds you. “You need to eat,” he states, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. “Your body needs food. You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”
You know he’s right, but the fear and anxiety that grip you make it hard to accept his words. “It’s not that simple,” you protest weakly. “It’s a struggle every day. I don’t expect you to understand.”
“Try me,” he says, his voice softer now, almost gentle. “I might surprise you.”
You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “It’s like… there’s this voice in my head, telling me I’m not good enough, that I don’t deserve to eat. And when I do eat, I feel guilty. It’s a vicious cycle.”
Sukuna’s eyes darken with a mix of anger and sadness. “Whoever put those thoughts in your head is an idiot,” he says bluntly. “You’re more than good enough. And you deserve to take care of yourself.”
He pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you in an awkward but comforting embrace. “You don’t have to do this alone,” he murmurs. “I’m here. We’ll figure it out together.”
You feel a tear slip down your cheek, and for once, you don’t try to hide it. Sukuna’s words, rough around the edges but sincere, start to chip away at the walls you’ve built around yourself. Maybe, just maybe, with him by your side, you can find a way to heal.
“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “For being here.”
“Always,” he replies, and you know he means it. In his own way, Sukuna is offering you a lifeline, and for the first time in a long while, you feel a glimmer of hope.
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You find yourself sitting on the edge of the bed, your vision swimming slightly. The room around you feels oddly tilted, and you blink rapidly, trying to clear the haze. Toji notices something is off immediately. His sharp eyes, always so perceptive, narrow with concern.
"Hey," he says softly, crossing the room in a few long strides. "You alright?"
You force a smile, nodding even though your head feels like it's filled with cotton. "Yeah, just... a bit dizzy, that's all."
He kneels in front of you, his large hands cupping your face gently. The warmth of his touch is reassuring, but it also makes you acutely aware of how cold and clammy your own skin feels. "When was the last time you ate?" His voice is firm, but there's a layer of worry that he can't quite hide.
You avoid his gaze, your eyes drifting to the floor. "I... I don't remember," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.
Toji's frown deepens. He stands up abruptly, heading towards the kitchen. "Stay here," he orders, though there's no real harshness in his tone. You hear him rummaging through the cupboards, the clatter of dishes and the sound of running water.
You try to stand up, but the world spins violently and your knees buckle. Darkness creeps in at the edges of your vision, and you barely register the sensation of falling before everything goes black.
When you come to, you're lying on the couch, a damp cloth on your forehead and Toji sitting beside you, his expression a mix of anger and fear. "What the hell were you thinking?" he growls, though his hands are gentle as they brush a strand of hair from your face.
"I'm sorry," you mumble, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. "I didn't mean to..."
"Didn't mean to what?" he interrupts, his voice rising. "Didn't mean to scare the hell out of me? Didn't mean to starve yourself until you passed out?" He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "You need to eat, okay? You can't keep doing this."
You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I know. It's just... hard."
Toji's expression softens. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I get that," he says quietly. "But you have to try. For me. For yourself."
He reaches over to the coffee table, grabbing a bowl of soup he must have prepared while you were unconscious. "Here," he says, handing it to you. "Start with this."
Your hands tremble slightly as you take the bowl. Toji watches you, his gaze intense but filled with a deep, unwavering concern. "You're not alone in this," he reminds you. "I'm here. We'll get through it together."
You take a tentative sip of the soup, the warmth spreading through your body. It's comforting, not just the food, but his presence, his support. You meet his eyes, seeing the determination there, and it gives you strength.
"Thank you," you whisper, your voice breaking.
Toji shakes his head. "Don't thank me," he says firmly. "Just promise me you'll try. Promise me you'll let me help."
You nod again, this time with more conviction. "I promise."
He smiles, a rare, genuine smile that lights up his face. "Good," he says, wrapping an arm around you. "We'll take it one step at a time. Together."
You lean into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart, and for the first time in a long time, you feel a flicker of hope. With Toji by your side, you know you can face this battle. One day, one meal at a time.
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The room spins as you struggle to focus on Megumi's voice. He's talking about something—you're not quite sure what—his words blending into a distant hum. You nod, hoping it's the right response. Your stomach twists uncomfortably, not out of hunger but from the anxiety that has been gnawing at you for days. You haven't eaten much; the thought of food makes your throat tighten.
Megumi glances at you, his expression softening with concern. "Are you okay? You look a little pale."
"I'm fine," you manage to say, but the words feel heavy, forced.
The next moment, the world tilts, and you feel yourself falling. Megumi's eyes widen, and he lunges forward to catch you just as darkness overtakes your vision.
When you come to, you're lying on the couch, a cool cloth on your forehead. Megumi is sitting beside you, his brows furrowed in worry. His hand is warm against yours, grounding you in reality.
"Hey," he says softly, "take it easy."
You blink, trying to shake off the fog in your mind. "What happened?"
"You fainted," he replies, his tone gentle but firm. "I think you haven't been eating enough."
Your heart sinks. You've been careful, trying to hide your struggles, but it seems you weren't as successful as you'd hoped. You look away, unable to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry."
Megumi squeezes your hand, his grip reassuring. "You don't have to apologize. I'm just worried about you."
You take a deep breath, the weight of his concern pressing down on you. "It's just... hard sometimes. Eating, I mean. It feels like... like too much."
He nods slowly, his gaze never leaving your face. "I get that. Everyone has their battles. But you don't have to go through this alone."
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "I didn't want to burden you."
"You're not a burden," he says firmly. "I care about you. If something's wrong, I want to help."
You swallow hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. "It's been tough lately. I don't know why, but the thought of eating just makes me anxious."
Megumi's expression softens even more. "It's okay to feel like that. But we need to find a way to get through this together. Have you talked to anyone about it?"
You shake your head, a fresh wave of shame washing over you. "No. I was too scared."
"Then let's start now," he suggests. "We can look for a therapist, someone who can help. And in the meantime, I'll be here for you. We can figure out small steps to make it easier."
His words offer a glimmer of hope, a promise that you're not alone in this fight. You nod, feeling a bit more grounded, a bit more hopeful. "Okay. That sounds good."
Megumi smiles, a rare sight that warms your heart. "We'll take it one day at a time. And remember, you can always talk to me. No matter what."
You squeeze his hand back, grateful for his support. "Thank you, Megumi. Really."
He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "We'll get through this. Together."
As you lie back, his hand still holding yours, you feel a sense of relief. It's not going to be easy, but with Megumi by your side, you're ready to face the challenges ahead.
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You’re walking beside Yuji, your boyfriend, through the bustling streets of Tokyo. The sun is high, casting a warm glow over the city, but you feel cold and lightheaded. It's been days since you've had a proper meal, your struggle with food overshadowing even the most basic of needs. Yuji, ever cheerful and kind, chatters about his day, but his voice seems distant, like it's coming from underwater.
You try to focus on his words, on the excitement in his voice, but your vision blurs. You tell yourself you’re fine, that you just need to push through it. But your body disagrees. Suddenly, the ground seems to rise up to meet you, and darkness swallows you whole.
When you come to, you’re lying on a bench, Yuji’s concerned face hovering above yours. His usually bright eyes are clouded with worry. "Hey, hey! Are you okay?" His voice is frantic, a stark contrast to his usual calm demeanor. You can see the panic etched in every line of his face, and it breaks your heart.
“I… I think so,” you manage to croak out, though you don’t feel okay at all. Your limbs are weak, and your head feels like it's stuffed with cotton. Yuji helps you sit up, his hand steady on your back.
“What happened? You just collapsed,” he says, his voice softer now but still edged with concern.
You hesitate, looking down at your hands. How do you explain this? The guilt, the shame, the constant battle with your own body? “I… I haven’t been eating much lately,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.
Yuji’s eyes widen in shock. “Why? Why haven’t you been eating?” His tone is gentle, but you can hear the underlying worry.
You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “It’s… it’s hard to explain. I’ve been struggling with food for a while. Sometimes it just feels easier to not eat at all.”
Yuji is silent for a moment, processing your words. Then, he reaches out, taking your hand in his. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this,” he says softly. “But you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here for you.”
His words are like a balm to your aching heart. You’ve been carrying this burden alone for so long, it almost feels strange to have someone else share it. “I didn’t want to worry you,” you confess, tears welling up in your eyes.
Yuji shakes his head, squeezing your hand gently. “You don’t have to protect me from this. I want to help you, but I need you to let me in. We’ll figure this out together, okay?”
You nod, the tears spilling over. “Okay,” you whisper. “Thank you, Yuji.”
He smiles, that bright, reassuring smile that you love so much. “Let’s go get something to eat, then. Just a little, if that’s all you can manage. We’ll take it one step at a time.”
You nod again, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. With Yuji by your side, the battle doesn’t seem so daunting. Together, you can face this. Together, you can find a way through.
As you walk towards a nearby café, Yuji keeps a protective arm around you. It’s a small gesture, but it makes you feel safe, grounded. You know this is just the beginning, that there will be many more challenges ahead. But for the first time in a long while, you feel hopeful. With Yuji beside you, anything feels possible.
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The day begins with a subtle sense of unease that you can't quite shake off. Yuta notices, of course—he always does. His concern is evident in the way he hovers around you, a gentle presence that never feels overbearing but always attentive. You've been struggling with food for a while now, and although you try to keep it hidden, Yuta's perceptive nature makes it impossible to completely disguise the toll it's taking on you.
By midday, the dizziness starts to creep in. You ignore it, pushing through the fog in your mind and the weakness in your limbs. Yuta suggests lunch, his voice hopeful and encouraging, but you shake your head, offering a weak smile. "I'm not really hungry," you lie, trying to convince both him and yourself. He doesn't push, respecting your boundaries, yet his eyes betray his worry.
Afternoon comes, and the world starts to blur at the edges. You're sitting on the couch, trying to focus on a book, but the words swim on the page. Yuta is nearby, engrossed in some task, but you can feel his occasional glances, each one a silent check-in. You stand up, intending to get a glass of water, but the room tilts violently. Your vision darkens, and before you can call out, your knees buckle.
The next thing you know, you're lying on the floor, Yuta's frantic voice calling your name. His hands are gentle but firm as he helps you sit up, his face pale with fear. "Hey, hey, look at me," he says, his voice steady despite the panic in his eyes. "Are you okay? What happened?"
You blink, trying to clear the haze from your mind. "I... I don't know," you stammer, though you both know it's not entirely true. The truth is, you've been skipping meals, pushing yourself too hard, and now your body is paying the price.
Yuta's expression softens, a mix of relief and concern. He helps you to the couch, making sure you're comfortable before he speaks again. "You haven't been eating," he says quietly, not an accusation but a simple, painful truth. "I can tell. And now this... It's serious."
Tears prick at your eyes, shame and guilt welling up. "I'm sorry," you whisper, unable to meet his gaze. "I just... It's hard. I don't want to worry you, but—"
"But I am worried," Yuta interrupts gently. He takes your hand, his grip warm and reassuring. "I love you, and I hate seeing you hurt yourself like this. You don't have to go through this alone."
His words break through the wall you've built around yourself, and the tears start to fall. Yuta pulls you into a hug, holding you tightly as you sob into his shoulder. "It's okay," he murmurs, his voice soothing. "We'll figure this out together. We'll get through it."
You nod, the weight of his words a small comfort amidst the storm of your emotions. It's not going to be easy, and you know the road ahead is long and filled with challenges. But with Yuta by your side, his unwavering support and love, you start to believe that maybe, just maybe, you can overcome this.
As you sit there, wrapped in his embrace, you feel a flicker of hope. It's fragile, like a candle in the wind, but it's there. And for now, that's enough.
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You're walking down the busy street with Toge Inumaki, your boyfriend, as the sun begins to set. The air is filled with the sounds of chatter and the distant hum of traffic. Toge is by your side, his presence a comforting constant. His unique way of speaking in rice ball ingredients has always been something you've found endearing, a quirk that makes him special.
But today, something feels different. You haven't eaten properly in days, struggling with your relationship with food. The world around you starts to blur, and you feel a wave of dizziness wash over you. You try to steady yourself, but your vision goes black, and you collapse.
When you come to, you're lying on the pavement, Toge's worried face hovering above you. His usually calm eyes are filled with concern, and he's holding your hand tightly.
"Salmon," he says, his voice shaky.
You try to sit up, but he gently pushes you back down. "Tuna mayo," he continues, his words conveying a depth of worry.
"I'm okay," you manage to croak out, but the weakness in your voice betrays you. The truth is, you're not okay. You haven't been for a while now.
Toge helps you sit up slowly, his arm supporting your back. "Kelp," he says softly, pointing to a nearby bench. You nod, and he helps you over to it. You sit down, feeling the world still spinning slightly.
He sits next to you, his hand never leaving yours. The silence between you is heavy, filled with unspoken words. You know you need to explain, but you're not sure where to start.
"Toge, I... I haven't been eating," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. His grip on your hand tightens, and you see the pain in his eyes.
"Mustard leaf?" he asks, his tone a mix of confusion and concern.
You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "I've been struggling with food. It's been hard for me to eat. I didn't want to worry you."
He looks at you, his expression softening but still filled with worry. "Salmon," he says, a hint of frustration in his voice. He cups your face with his hand, his thumb gently brushing your cheek.
"I know," you whisper, tears starting to well up in your eyes. "I'm sorry, Toge. I didn't mean for it to get this bad."
"Tuna," he says, shaking his head. He pulls you into a hug, his embrace warm and reassuring. You cling to him, feeling the weight of your struggles lifting just a bit.
After a few moments, he pulls back slightly, looking into your eyes. "Bonito flakes?" he asks, his tone gentle but firm.
You nod, understanding what he's asking. "I need help. I know that now. I can't do this alone."
He smiles, a small but genuine smile that reaches his eyes. "Kombu," he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. It's his way of telling you that he's here for you, that he'll support you through this.
You lean into him, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. It's going to be a long journey, but with Toge by your side, you feel a glimmer of hope. You know that you're not alone, and that makes all the difference.
As you sit together on the bench, the world around you starts to feel a little less overwhelming. Toge's presence is a reminder that you have someone who cares deeply for you, someone who will help you find your way back to a healthier place. And for the first time in a long while, you believe that you can do it.
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Extra Addition: Nobara Kugisaki
The world around you starts to blur as you sway on your feet, a wave of dizziness crashing over you. Your stomach has been a hollow pit for hours, gnawing at you with a persistent ache you’ve grown accustomed to ignoring. You’ve managed to keep your struggles with food hidden from Nobara, convincing yourself that you can handle it. But now, as you stand in the middle of her living room, the edges of your vision darken, and you know you’re about to faint.
“Hey, are you okay?” Nobara’s voice cuts through the haze, sharp with concern. You try to respond, but your knees buckle, and the floor rushes up to meet you.
The next thing you know, you’re lying on the couch, Nobara’s frantic face hovering above you. Her hands are trembling as she pats your cheeks, her eyes wide with panic.
“Wake up! Come on, open your eyes!” she demands, her voice shaking. “What the hell happened?”
You blink up at her, the room slowly coming back into focus. “I’m... I’m okay,” you croak, though your voice is weak and unconvincing.
“Okay? You call that okay? You just collapsed!” Nobara’s face is a mix of anger and worry, her usual confident demeanor replaced by raw fear. “You scared the hell out of me!”
You try to sit up, but Nobara gently pushes you back down. “No, stay there. You’re not moving until you tell me what’s going on.”
There’s no escaping it now. You take a deep breath, your throat tight. “I haven’t been eating much lately,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been... struggling with food.”
Nobara’s eyes widen even more, if that’s possible. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?” Her voice is high-pitched, almost shrill with worry. “I could have helped! We could have figured something out together!”
“I didn’t want to bother you,” you mumble, feeling the weight of your secret lifting but replaced by a different kind of heaviness — guilt.
“Bother me? Are you kidding?” Nobara’s hands are still trembling as she cups your face, her eyes searching yours. “You’re not a bother. You’re my partner. We’re supposed to look out for each other.”
You see tears welling up in her eyes, and it breaks your heart. Nobara, who always seems so strong and unshakable, is crumbling in front of you. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, reaching up to wipe away a tear that escapes down her cheek.
She sniffles, trying to compose herself. “Don’t be sorry. Just... don’t hide things from me, okay? We’re a team.” Her voice is softer now, the panic giving way to determination. “We’ll figure this out together.”
You nod, feeling a strange mix of relief and shame. “Okay. Together.”
Nobara takes a deep breath, visibly trying to calm herself. “First things first. You need to eat. I’m making you something, and you’re going to eat it, even if I have to feed you myself.”
You can’t help but smile at her intensity. “Yes, ma’am.”
She gives you a shaky smile in return, brushing her fingers through your hair. “And we’re going to talk about this, really talk about it. We’ll get you whatever help you need. But you’re not going through this alone, got it?”
“Got it,” you reply, feeling a warmth spread through you that has nothing to do with the blanket she tucks around you.
Nobara stands up, a new determination in her step as she heads to the kitchen. “Just stay there and rest. I’ll be right back.”
As you lie there, waiting for her to return, you feel a sense of hope you haven’t felt in a long time. Nobara’s reaction, her over-the-top panic and fierce protectiveness, shows just how much she cares. And for the first time, you believe that maybe, just maybe, you can overcome this with her by your side.
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mj0702 · 16 hours
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For @helen-with-an-a
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Lucy was laying on the couch Ona pressed against side and partly on top of her your sister absently drawing patterns on her girlfriends back as she heard the door got opened – rather aggressively. Seconds later you made your way into the living room and alone on the way you stormed inside Lucy saw how angry you were. You stood in front of them and looked down on them with an absolute furious look on your face
“Yes?” your sister looked up at you bewildered
“You...” you growled out before your focus switched to Ona “... and YOU”
“Bubs... calm down and tell me.. us.. tell us what upset you” Lucy said trying to calm you down
“BOTH of you are fucking hypocrites!!!” you said and both Lucy and Ona sank a little deeper into the couch by your outburst
“Excuse me” your sister asked perplex
“I just got asked by a “fan” if your little tete-a-tete started... if it really started at Lstans wedding or even before when you were both in Manchester?” you exploded before pointing at Lucy “YOU get angry and upset because I didn't say anything about Georgia and here YOU are fucking that little spanish girl all the way back then... I can't believe you did this to me... you Lucy... YOU of all people... did you even wait till Kei moved out??”
“Woah calm down...” Lucy said sitting up after she gently nudged Ona of her “You do NOT speak like this to me OR Ona...”
“You apparently don't talk to me either” you spat back and Lucy saw how your fingernails were digged into your palms
“Calm down” your sister repeated soothingly
“The fuck I will” you said furiously turning around leaving and as you were about to leave the room you couldn't hold back and punched the wall
“Y/N Tough Bronze! Come back here - NOW” Lucy exclaimed shocked and angry at the same time
“NO” you yelled back already halfway down the hallway
“I'll...” your sister looked at her girlfriend pointing in the general direction where you just disappeared to “I don't know what's going on – but please don't take her seriously”
“I would lie if I'd say it doesn't hurt what she said” Ona said carefully
“I know... and I'm sorry – but... I'll figure it out okay?” Lucy said pleadingly
“Go.... whatever is going on – she needs you” the blonde spaniard said offering a weak smile and Lucy left towards your room
“Can I come in?” your sister asked through the closed door
“You can go and...” you started to spat already throwing stuff into your bag
“... if you finish that sentence there will be consequences” Lucy interrupted you angrily before she took a deep breath calming herself down
“No need....” you said coldly after you ripped your door open with your bag in your hand storming past her – or at least you tried
“No you don't...” your sister reacted quickly grabbing your arm “We're going to talk about it – you won't run away”
“Let go” you growled towards her “... or I see myself kicking your right knee – hard... very hard”
“Go on then... do it.. kick my knee if it makes you feel better – but I won't let you leave” Lucy said calmly her grip loosening a little around your arm
“Lucy.... let go” you growled
“No...” your sister said lowly “... I NEVER cheated on Keira... NEVER...”
“You fucked...” you spat but your anger started to leave your body with Lucys calm demeanor
“... I never... not until I transferred to Barcelona – you know Keira and I were way over at this point...” Lucy said honestly
“... but you never talked to me.. you never told me” you said your anger switching to sadness
“... I didn't know how... you love Kei... you adore her....” your sister said letting go of your arm seeing you wouldn't try to run again “... I didn't want to bring you into a position where you feel the need to pick sides – I wanted to wait until you would … I don't know.. better understand the situation or see how good friends Kei and Ona are so it would be.. easier?”
“You got so mad because of G and I and yet here you stand saying you wanted it to be easier” you said sadly
“I'm sorry about who I reacted about G... I really am Bubs” Lucy carefully laid her hand on your shoulder
“Okay...” you said not really comfortable with your sisters touch at the moment but still needing the physical touch
“Bubs please...” your sister pleaded with you for a little more reaction feeling how tense you were
“I... just can't at the moment...” you said “... can I please leave? I'll be at Keiras”
“Sure...” Lucy said biting her lip hard so you wouldn't hear how hard it hurt her you asking her that question “... of course you can leave... Just... just let me know when you're at Keis okay?”
“Yeah okay” you breathed out before you walked down the hallway
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mxtantrights · 19 hours
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un-ordinary human
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a/n: okay I mean it FINAL PART. now I did say I wanted to give you angst, so don't be surprised! that being said if you want a short blurb or bullet points about this story after this def come into my inbox and tell me!!! <33 hope you enjoy (and if you see mistakes, know that I am but a feeble human who wrote this all in one go because I had one (1) idea) thank you again for all the love!!!
part one | part two
The portal lay open in front of you. The swim would be short. You would have to hold you breath for at least ten seconds, which you could do. And then you would go through the portal and be back home.
They weren't sure how it worked. If the same amount of time would have passed there as it did here. If it had been years since you left, or maybe just weeks or hours.
You sigh.
"Leaving them without saying goodbye, little human?" Amren asks.
You turn around to face her. There she is leaning against a wide tree, her arms crossed over her chest. She was the one who knew you wanted to leave tonight. You hold told her as such and said goodbye to her.
But not so much the others. Not Azriel or Eris.
It's not that you wanted to hurt them. But you thought it best to leave without being so dramatic. And without having any more conversations about your love life, or lack thereof.
"I think it's better this way." you answer.
"Or you're just being a coward. And you don't want to get hurt again." Amren pipes in.
She walks over to you slowly. You watch as her arm detangle from themselves. And then she's taking your hands into hers.
"It's okay to want to protect yourself. Just don't lie about it, epically to me." Amren adds on.
You smile sadly, "I'll miss you so much."
"I know. But our friendship wasn't meant to happen. So even this little time we did have, I will cherish." she says.
You can't help the tear that slides down your cheek. Amren swipes it away and smiles with you. You sniffle as she grabs onto your shoulders and shakes you bit.
"I'm going home." you say quietly.
"You're going home." she agrees.
She lets go of you. You take a step back and compose yourself as best you can. You roll your shoulders back and you take a deep breath.
Then you do it. You walk into the lake, you walk and walk until the water reaches your waist. You look back at Amren who gives you a small wave. You wave back.
You hold your breath and dive underwater.
-
There's only one word you can use to describe your world now.
Madness.
Walking through the portal was the best decision at the time for you. You could finally go back home, be normal again. Not have to worry about someone picking you off like prey simply because you are human.
But you couldn't possible expect this.
While you only spent less than ten years with the fae, it's been more than fifty years back home. Meaning everything you ever had is gone, everything you've ever known is changed, and almost everyone you knew is fifty years older than you.
You realized very quickly that you couldn't stay in the place you called home. How could you? Walk around with the same face from fifty years ago? They would call you a witch, they would do awful and vile things to you.
So you made the lonesome trek across the canary isles to the other side. Where no one had heard of you, had ever seen you before. And just for added assurance you changed your name too.
The rumbling began a year after you came back.
You'd feel it pass during the day at work at the local inn, or at night while your were sleeping. And sure enough when you'd go outside the next day there was a new crack in the ground. Cracks spanning for miles. Some ran deep, some were just surface level.
But you knew, you knew what was happening.
How the Canary Isles were rocked by powerful tremors and then sunk. Reemerging as the court of nightmares. You' don't know what scares you most, knowing that the very ground beneath you feet will be submerged underwater at any given moment or that what comes after is fae, and other magical beings.
You wouldn't run. You wouldn't run no matter how much your mind screamed at you to go. And you had plenty of opportunity to. It's not like you would need to pack anything either. Your pay at the inn was enough to eat, bathe and house yourself.
But you couldn't find it in yourself to abandon your home land. Or the people. You couldn't convince all of them that something bad was going to happen without coming off as a with or heretic. So you stayed, you waited, and waited.
All that waiting you did just made you sad. Sad for what was to come, and sad that you didn't say goodbye to Azriel and Eris. You left without a word, without a thought for their pain. You only thought of yourself.
You've regretted it since coming back. But the portal only worked once for you, and closed immediately after.
You waited for five years after the rumbling began. Then it happened. The once large island splintered off into four, uneven pieces. You saw a lot of lives lost that day.
And with the help of those who survived you rebuilt. But in the back of your mind you knew it was for nothing because soon the isles would be gone.
It happens on a normal day. When you are off from work, picking up fresh vegetables for a few of your neighbors. You feel it starting. In your feet, the ground shakes. Then the fruits from the stand to your right start rolling off the display. Apples and pears rolling past you.
The ground cracked where you stood. You tried you best to run. And you did make it quite far. You made it all the way to what used to be the old village, but was now chunks of land in the sea. The land just cuts off with no warning.
And you had no choice. When the large crack made it's slithering voyage to you. There was no decision. There was no left or right step to take. Before you knew it, you were falling into the open ground, into the ice cold water.
-
Amren had this feeling in her gut today. She couldn't bother to eat fresh meat, she couldn't keep focused during training the Nesta, and she couldn't bother to really pay attention to Varian.
Something happened. She just didn't know what.
And she would have stayed this way if it weren't for the interruption almost four hours after she felt it but Eris. He winnowed into the kitchen, cheeks flush and eyes wide.
She was the only one there. The only one to witness him like this.
"I can't feel it. The bond. I can't feel it anymore." he got out.
Amren turned to him, "She went home years ago, wouldn't you have felt it then?"
"I'm unsure. But this, it feels cold. Like I'm tied to a piece of ice." Eris answers, his hand placed over his chest.
In a matter of seconds, Azriel comes bursting into the kitchen. He sees Eris, and his very distressed state, and then he takes in Amren. Amren who has a look of worry on her face.
"It's happened. The Isles, they sunk into the water." Azriel speaks.
Eris looks at him bewildered, "But that can't be. She just got there. Are you saying she went home only to die in five years?"
"Maybe the time was different there. We don't know." Amren offers.
"Nyx said that my hands felt cold. I didn't even notice until I asked Cassian to feel them." Azriel confesses.
"Wait, how could you feel something when you-" Amren cuts herself off.
She looks at Azriel then. His eyes down trodden, watery. It was one thing for him to lose someone he really cared for, but this was more emotion that that. This, this was the loss of a mate.
"Is this what it will feel like? Forever?" Eris asks, mainly to himself but still out loud.
He's seemingly too in shock to put together what Azriel just divulged.
Amren felt it then. The feeling she got that morning. It wasn't some enchantment or some new groundbreaking emotion. It was guilt Guilt that she had let you go to your death.
-
A few months later and Azriel isn't himself. He's tried his best but he cannot seem to function at the level he's used to. His hands remind him of you being gone.
He hadn't told anyone. Still hasn't, to this day. But he felt it. He felt it when you asked him why you were so important to them. He felt the bond snap.
And he hid it. He hid it with ease, with the same amount of effort Eris used to hide his bond with you.
Azriel is standing in Rhys' office, waiting for Eris to come in. Apparently he received a letter from Kalias about something important.
The ginger haired male steps into the room and takes Eris in. The dark circles under his eyes, his usual smirk gone. Azriel never thought he'd see the day.
Eris walks in without a word and passes the note to Azriel. He doesn't even look in his direction when he does it. Azriel reads the note out loud quickly.
Special request. In need of Fire abilities. And espionage skills. Urgent item in need of acquiring.
"I don't see why not." Rhys says.
"It's beneath me, is why." Eris scowls.
"The both of you could use this right now. You won't be back to your old selves but maybe it's what you need." Rhys tries again.
Azriel lets a moment pass.
"I'll go on your orders." he says to his friend.
Rhys chuckles, "I don't want you to go because of me. I want you to go because this is something new."
"Bring a flame-thrower. I'm going home." Eris barks.
Eris heads for the door but as soon as his hand lands on the knob, Rhys starts speaking again.
"Kalias called for the two of you. I wouldn't want to risk any court relations because you decided not to show up." Rhys replies.
Eris turns around, angry.
"Who cares about some lost artifact, which is probably all that it is." Eris argues.
"Kalias does. And if you want an alliance with this court, you'll join Azriel." Rhys speaks sternly.
Eris and Azriel pass a look to one another. They haven't been in the same room since that day they both felt her lack of presence.
"Fine."
"Whatever."
-
Kalias leads both Azriel and Eris down a tunnel of ice. One that was being carved open for years. Over a decade of fae had taken their picks and hatchet to this iceberg in hopes of finding something, anything that could clue them into the history of the court.
And for a while it was nothing. Just ice, the ver present chunk of frozen terrain, and then more ice.
Until a few months ago. When a fae swore he saw something larger than a piece of land. With no distinct shape. They took their time and picked and chipped at the ice until they could get close enough to the unidentified object.
But what they soon realized was their tools could very well disturb the state of the object. They could chip at the ice wrong and a piece could break off.
And that's why Kalias needed Eris. A male in the fiercest control of his fire powers that could melt the ice and procure the object. Once he had the object, depending on what it was, he needed to keep it safe. Who best but the spymaster himself?
Kalias stops once he reaches the spot. He points tot he blurted object in the ice.
"You'll need to be very careful. Too quick and you may very well melt or burn the object. But too slow and the very ice beneath us could give way." the high lord says.
"A death mission." Eris grumbles.
"We could winnow out of here before anything bad happens. But that would presumably leave this object lost to us forever." Kalias adds.
"Please don't kill us." Azriel says to Eris.
Eris raises his hand up to the ice wall. Slowly but surely the ice begins to melt. Drips of water landing on the floor and freezing again into ice.
Kalias watches in amazement.
Azriel does too.
The object getting more clear with each passing moment.
Kalias gasps, "That's a body!"
Eris stops for a second. He takes a step back.
"Keep going, Eris." Azriel says.
Eris places both his hands on the sheet of ice wall in front of him. Carefully he use his fire to melt the ice down even more. Not too quick but fast enough. The ice keeps melting, thinning the space between the three of them and the body.
Eris gets close. So close that he is scared of what he might see. Scared that it might be bones wrapped in clothes and garb. Or there might still be flesh on the body.
"Carefully now." Kalias instructs him.
Azriel's shadows come up the shell of his ear. They only ever do that if they have something to say to him. An important detail. A secret. A wrong move.
Eris pushes a bit farther and the body becomes easier to make out. So easy in fact that he feels like he can't stop. He can't stop, and Azriel's shadows seem to make out what the object finally is.
Eris and Azriel gasp at the same time.
There is the sheet of ice, half frozen and half thawed, is you.
-
"She'll be disoriented at best. There isn't any tonics or healing techniques for this type of situation." a voice says above you. It sounds older, feminine.
"But she'll be okay?" another asks. A male voice. A bit low.
"I'll have to check her vitals every few hours. And she shouldn't be crowded by too many faces. But, by my account, she'll be okay." the female voice.
"Thank you so much Majda." a new voice says. Male. A bit lower than the first one.
"Don't thank me yet. The road will be long to recovery."
"I think we'll take it." another voice says. Another female voice.
You try opening your eyes but they feel so heavy. And everything feels so cold. It wasn't like you to feel this cold. The Canary Isles weren't cold like this. This feels like a tundra nipping at the blood in your body.
You groan at the feeling.
"She's getting up. I need the three of you back."
You can faintly feel someone's touch on you. If you're in bed, there should be no one in your home. You live alone. But maybe something happened?
You try to speak but your throat feels sore.
"Don't try to speak just yet. You'll need something for that. When you're ready I want you to open your eyes." the older females voice says.
You swallow. Then you try opening your eyes again. It happens slowly. You feel like you have to peel them open, but they open. There is no light where you are. Which is weird because you sleep with the curtains half open usually.
The scent in front of you is very blurry. You can make out one face in front of you.
"Shake your head for no, and nod for yes. Can you see me?" she asks.
You shake your head. You reach up for your eyes but you feel her grab onto your hands.
"I applied something to your eyes to help you open them. But I'll wipe it off now before you rub it in." she says.
You nod your head once. She tells you what you're about to feel. And when you fell the damp cloth across your eyes your still flinch. But you let it happen.
As she wipes your vision clears up. And you can finally place her. Majda. If this is Majda, then that means...
Your heart starts racing.
"She's panicking. I need hands. Now." She says behind her back.
Which makes you look to what's right in front of you. Well not what, but who. Amren. Azriel and Eris.
Flashes of what led to you being here go through your mind. The rumblings. The cracks in the ground. The isles being split into four. The last day. How the land swallowed you whole and you landed in the water. Nowhere to swim to.
You're back here. Again.
"Lovesick fools, Amren!" Majda yells.
Amren comes over to your side. She rushes over and makes you lay back down completely. You're not in control of your emotions or your body. You can feel yourself flailing around but you can't stop yourself.
Weakly, you whisper, "Amren?"
"I know, I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry." she says.
"I won't give you the whole dose but, you need to calm down." Majda says to you.
Then you feel the pinch in your arm. You look over to your left side. A needle in your arm. It beings back memories of Beron. Poking and prodding at you, trying to figure you out. You let out a wail.
"That dose was nothing. It went right through her."
Amren looks behind her, "One of you do something!"
You watch as both of them walk over to you.
Eris slower than Azriel, who joins you on your left side where Majda is. He kneels down and extends his hand to yours.
As if to ask you to take it.
You want to cry. And that is what you do. You feel the tears roll down your cheeks as you look at him. His eye wet too. His lips form a sad smile when you take his hand softly.
The fear and the pain seeping through you seems to slow down a fraction. You feel like you can breathe again. You look over to your right side, where Eris and Amren are.
Eris makes a move to come closer to you but seems to think against it. You reach out your hand for him. He looks down at your hand, shock written all over his face, and then back up at you.
You nod your head at him.
He gives in fairly quickly. Eris takes your hand in his. You can feel the warmth from him and you let out a sigh. You settle into the bed below you a bit more.
"We thought you were gone. We felt it, the coldness." Eris says.
You're brows scrunch in the middle and you look over at Azriel. The last you checked, he couldn't feel anything like Eris could.
"I lied too. I'm sorry." Azriel speaks.
You shake your head, wanting so desperately to speak to them. To tell them how sorry you were. How you shouldn't have left without a goodbye. Or how you shouldn't have left them in such turmoil.
You take your hands and move them up both of their arms, willing them closer. Eris takes the hint first and sits on the edge of the bed. When your hands travels further, up his opposite shoulder he stills.
Azriel leans forward and places his head forward, into your side. Your hand snakes from his arm to the back of his head, your fingers in his hair.
It's then, and only then, that Eris tucks his head into your shoulder. And you finally feel like you're able to breathe normally. You reach up and rub the nape of his neck.
Sure the first time you got her had been some freak accident. But this time? This time had been fate pre-determined and unrelenting.
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fluentmoviequoter · 3 days
Text
Lucky Me
Requested Here by @elephants-bubbles-brachosauruses!
Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x shy/insecure!fem!reader
Summary: Deacon loves you and he considers himself lucky to have you. Unfortunately, you can't see what he sees, so he takes it upon himself to show you just how lucky he is with you.
Warnings: discussion/depiction of insecurities and feeling unworthy, flirting, fluff, loads of comfort and reassurances
Word Count: 2.7k+ words
Masterlist Directory | Deacon Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
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Your fingers rake over your outfit as your eyes catch on everything you deem an imperfection. As your reflection stares back at you, distorted, shy, unworthy of the man on his way to pick you up for a date, you wonder, what does Deacon see in me?
Deacon Kay is the opposite of what you think you deserve. He’s kind, loving, handsome, and makes you feel seen, even when you don’t want to be. As your mind races and your hands tingle to fix something deep beneath the surface of your skin, someone knocks and harshly pulls you back to reality. You take a deep breath and tug the fabric of your outfit away from your skin once more before you walk out of your room and to the door.
“Hi, Deac,��� you greet.
“You look beautiful,” he replies as he steps inside. When his eyes meet yours, he proves to you that no one will ever be able to love you like he does. “Are you okay?”
While you nod, you ask, “Do I look alright?”
“Better than alright,” Deacon assures. “Ready to go?”
“I think so.”
Deacon smiles, and your breath catches as your eyes drop. He takes your hand and leads you to his car. Deacon’s a gentleman, the most handsome guy you’ve ever met, and you can’t help but feel that he could do so much better.
“You’re sure I look alright?” you repeat as you lower into his passenger seat.
“Absolutely.”
As he walks to the driver’s door, Deacon sighs. You can ask him if you look alright a hundred times, but he’s still trying to catch his breath. He knows you won’t believe him if he tells you. Deacon is learning that showing you every single day that you are all he wants is the only way to convince you he’s all in, and if that helps you build some confidence, even better.
Your fingers are twisted in your top when Deacon starts the car. He leaves the car in park to turn toward you. Gently, he pulls your hands away from your stomach and rubs your knuckles. His smile is the perfect reward when your shy gaze finally reaches his eyes.
“Listen, you could honestly show up wearing a beat-up tee, and you’d still be the centerpiece,” Deacon tells you. He shushes you kindly when you shake your head. “If you don’t believe me… There’s nothing I wouldn’t do, okay? The way you look tonight – every night – you’re what I want, but I want you to see what I see.”
“I think-“ You swallow and force your voice to remain steady as you finish, “I think you see something that isn’t there, Deacon.”
Deacon’s big brown eyes harden quickly before his gaze softens. He’s lucky to have you; if you can’t see that, he’ll shout it from the rooftops until you hear him, too.
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The day after your date, you don’t hear from Deacon. It’s not unusual; he’s got a busy and dangerous job, but after exposing the extent of your insecurities, it concerns you. If Deacon finally saw what you see in the mirror or realized that other women would be lucky to have him, you may have lost the best thing that ever happened to you.
You’ve been shy your whole life; you are used to that, but the insecurity rooting itself deep in your identity gets stronger daily. A relationship with a man like Deacon shouldn’t be marked by how often he reassures you that he wants you. For now, that voice deep down ridicules. As you drop your head into your hands, you ask yourself if there’s any chance that Deacon meant what he said last night and the other times he’s told you he’s lucky to have you.
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“Deac, you got anything to get off your chest?” Luca asks.
Deacon shakes his head and throws another punch. Luca staggers backward at the force behind Deacon’s hit. He’s strong, his teammates know that, but this is different.
“How’d the date go last night?” Luca adds.
“I wish I knew,” Deacon replies.
“What does that mean, man?”
Deacon drops his arms and steps out of his fighting stance. “She’s…” Deacon takes a deep breath to order his thoughts. “I’m so lucky to have her, but I feel like she’s slipping out of my hands and doesn’t believe me when I try to bring her back in.”
Luca nods. Other men might poke fun at Deacon’s romantic analogy or that he’s willing to fight for a woman, but Luca knows Deacon means every word he says.
“What does she need?”
“Something that I can’t order from a florist.”
“You’ll figure it out, Deacon. If she’s still around, sounds to me like she’s fighting to stay close, too.”
“I just… I hate that I can’t help her in that fight.”
“It’s not what you want to hear, but fight your battle, Deac. You love her, that’ll be enough.”
“I hope so.”
Deacon waves his hand up, and Luca raises the punching pad again. If Deacon stops pulling his punches again, Luca won’t complain.
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“Hey,” you say softly as the call connects. “Sorry for calling in the middle of the day, but I was just-“
“No, it’s my fault,” Deacon interrupts. “I should’ve called. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” You pick at the pillow in your lap, waiting for Deacon to say something else.
“Are you busy?”
“Right now? No.”
“Good. I’ll be there in twenty.”
“Why?” The question slips out before you consider how it sounds. “I mean-“
“I know,” Deacon says, and you can hear his smile in his tone. “Get ready, do whatever you need, and I’ll be there soon.”
“Okay. See you then.”
“Perfect.”
The line beeps as Deacon ends the call, and you look at the dark screen. Twenty minutes isn’t much time, so you stand and pull your favorite outfit from the closet. You ignore the mirror as you walk past it. Deacon didn’t say what he was planning to do with you, so you dressed for casual comfort. Luckily, some of your insecurities have been silenced since the last time you saw Deacon. You know all too well that they’re waiting for the perfect opportunity to rear their ugly heads again.
You wait at the door for Deacon’s knock and smile as he offers his hand. He compliments your beauty – not your hair or your outfit specifically, but you as a whole person – and you don’t question it this time. It’s a small change, but one that you owe to Deacon.
“Where are we going?” you ask.
“I was going to take you to lunch, but Luca’s food truck is stopping by HQ in about an hour. I thought we'd just stay there. Is that okay?”
“Sure,” you agree. “Is your squad still there?”
“Yep. You can finally meet all the people who listen to me talk about how lucky I am to have you.”
You smile at your lap, and Deacon moves his hand into your line of sight. He sighs as you take his hand and squeezes your fingers.
“Thanks,” he says.
“For?”
I know you won’t believe me, Deacon thinks. “You’re all I want. Thanks for giving me the chance to be with you, look a fool, count my blessings, all of it.”
“You’re welcome… I think.”
Deacon laughs at your questioning tone, and the smile on his face makes the wall of doubts about yourself crack. But it shouldn’t be his job to fight your insecurities. That’s not a relationship.
“Your friends sound nice,” you tell Deacon. “I didn’t think you’d introduce me to them so soon.”
“They practically know you already. I make them look at what I’ve got, and it’s you.”
You move your free hand over Deacon’s and run your finger across his wrist. Deacon pulls into the parking lot outside HQ, and you take a deep breath. He releases your hand slowly, then helps you out of the car.
“They’re a lot,” he warns. “Mostly Street.”
“They’re your family,” you counter. “I’ll be fine.”
Deacon’s lips pick up at the corners. You want to ask what that’s about, but he leads you around a corner before you can. Several men are standing beside the boxing ring, and when one of them sees Deacon, everything changes. He slaps the arm of the man closest to him, but his eyes never leave you.
Four men turn at his reaction, and all of their jaws drop. You smile shyly as Deacon leads you toward them. After a moment that stretches into an hour, the man closest to Deacon snaps out of his stupor.
“Hey!” he greets. “I’m Luca. I’ve heard a lot about you, but Deacon clearly undersold your beauty.”
You say your name quietly, then welcome Luca’s hug. It’s a friendly one, but it breaks the tension and alleviates some of the awkwardness hanging over you.
“Any girlfriend of Deacon’s is a part of the family, so welcome,” Luca adds as he steps back.
“Family, yeah,” the younger man agrees quickly. “We put the fun in dysfunctional.”
“Street,” Deacon sighs, raising his hands in question.
“What? I’m nervous,” Street replies.
“Me too,” you agree with a smile.
“No need to be. We’re harmless, except for Street’s terrible fashion sense. I’m Victor Tan, nice to meet you.”
“You, too.”
You shake his hand before you notice Deacon has taken a step to the side and is talking to the leader of his team, Hondo. You’ve heard about him, but if he took Deacon aside to talk about you, maybe your insecurities about being with Deacon weren’t unfounded or invisible.
Deacon turns back toward you, and when his eyes meet yours, he gets lost in them. Your beauty knocks him off his feet sometimes and makes him forget to speak and breathe, yet he never forgets to tell you or show you that he loves you after that initial moment of losing himself in you, the woman who makes him the luckiest man in the world.
“You could’ve warned us, Deac,” Hondo says.
“About what?” Deacon replies, looking away from you slowly.
“She’s stunning! I don’t remember the last time a woman made me speechless, let alone Street.”
“Make a move on her and I’ll kill you Hondo,” Deacon jokes.
Hondo laughs with Deacon before he says, “I’m glad to see you happy again, brother. It’s been too long.”
“Happy,” Deacon repeats. “Look at her, I’m lucky.”
Hondo taps Deacon’s shoulder and steps past him to greet you. You introduce yourself with a smile that isn’t quite so shy now, and it makes Deacon’s heart pound in his chest. If you’re in the family now, maybe Deacon can finally convince you to see what he sees.
He walks to your side, and when he realizes you’re talking to Luca and Street about your favorite dessert, he smiles and wraps his arm around your waist. You mention that Deacon gets it for you often, and he can only think, look at you. Lucky me.
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“Do you want to dance?” Deacon asks.
The music changes, and you hesitate but lay your hand in his. He leads you to the dance floor and spins you to pull you closer. You laugh in his arms, and it shines brighter than all of the lights above you.
“You’re perfect,” Deacon whispers. You don’t hear him, but he doubts you would have listened anyway.
“Of course you can dance,” you muse, rolling your eyes despite your smile. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
Make you listen when I say you are perfect. “Plenty,” Deacon says.
“Do you think you could dip me?” you ask.
Deacon smiles. Every time he sees you, you seem a bit more confident than before. It’s slow, but as you gain confidence without sacrificing your shy and loveable personality, Deacon reminds you that he’s lucky and that you’re all he will ever want. As you stop arguing, Deacon prays you’re beginning to accept and believe it.
“Oh, I’m the luckiest guy in the world,” Deacon murmurs. “One dip coming up.”
“And if I want to keep dancing?”
“There’s nothing that I wouldn’t do. Don’t care if I look like a fool.”
You smile as Deacon pulls you closer to keep dancing, and for a moment, you believe that Deacon really would do anything. But you still can’t see what about you makes him think he’s lucky to be here with you.
Back at the table, you sit back in your seat and exhale. Time passed quickly with Deacon, and you danced with him until you physically couldn’t spin another time.
“You’re amazing!” you tell Deacon.
“You’re beautiful,” Deacon replies. “But don’t take that, any of what I say, as surface things. It goes miles deeper.”
Your post-dance excitement lowers when you see the seriousness in Deacon’s eyes. You nod, believing him more than ever. He loves you and thinks that he’s lucky to have you. Deacon thinks you are all he has ever wanted. When your smile returns and you whisper thank you, Deacon knows you’re finally seeing it.
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You wake to a voicemail from Deacon. It’s over a minute long, and he left it around 2 a.m. With your lips pressed together and your nerves coming to life in the early morning sunlight, you press play.
“Hey, I know you’re still asleep and I’m sorry to do it like this,” Deacon says. His voice sounds strained, and you close your eyes. “There was a big raid last night. It went downhill and we got called in to assist. Now that we’re here and we’ve got our guy, we’re dealing with the fallout, too. I… I’m leaving for a few days. 20 Squad is assisting the Marshals. I can’t tell you where we’re going or talk to you while I’m gone. But the moment I get back- when I get back, I’m coming to see you. I love you.”
Hondo calls for Deacon in the background of the voicemail before it ends. You release a breath; days without Deacon aren’t what you want, but it’s better than the alternative you considered. There’s no chance that you can go back to sleep now, so you set your phone aside and get out of bed.
You walk past the mirror in your room, then stop. Taking a few steps backward, you turn toward the mirror. The eyes looking back at you aren’t the same ones you saw a few weeks ago. The woman you see now is loved, wanted, and appreciated; she’s beautiful, and the man that she loves feels the same about her. Everything that Deacon has told you – "the way you look tonight has got me thinking I wanna shout it from the rooftops." "I got somebody who’s all that I want, and it’s you." I want you to see what I see" – is in front of the mirror. It’s all in you.
The second realization you make as you meet your own eyes in the mirror is far more impactful. It makes you run into the kitchen to read the card from the first bouquet Deacon sent you, then call his boss. You'll need his help to show Deacon how much he means to you the moment he returns.
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When the team returns from their trip with the Marshals, Hondo walks into HQ first. He looks tired, but he smiles when he sees you. You wave, and he raises a finger. You take that to mean Deacon will be right in.
When Deacon does walk in, he sees you, and his eyes light up. It makes sense now. What does Deacon see in me? What he sees in you is precisely what you see in Deacon.
Deacon drops his bag and speeds up to meet you. He doesn’t ask how you found out when he’d be back; that will come later. For now, he needs you.
“Look at you,” you murmur as he approaches. “Lucky me.”
Deacon smiles, and his eyes are as bright and loving as always. He places his left hand gently on the back of your head and pulls you forward. You smile into the kiss as Deacon relaxes against you. His right hand raises to your jaw as he tilts your chin up, and you loop your arms under his to pull yourself impossibly closer to the man that made you the luckiest woman in the world.
“Woo, Deac!” Hondo exclaims as you pull back.
Deacon presses his forehead to yours and smiles.
“Put a ring on her or I will!” Hondo adds.
“What changed?” Deacon whispers.
“I finally saw what you saw. Everything you said you saw in me – all that you want – is what I see in you, too. Sorry it took me a while to realize,” you answer.
“Lucky me.”
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Lives Worth Living Chapter 8
Spoilers for ISAT, CW for mentions/wounds of self harm
"A hot springs?"
"Yes! There's one on the way to the next town! We can set up camp there tonight!" (Mirabelle beams with excitement.)
"That sounds like a wonderful idea. We could sure use a bit of relaxation now that our grand quest is over."
"Yeah! That sounds like a great idea! What do you think Sif?" (Isa suddenly looks to you. Despite how long it's been for you, you still always freeze up a little when asked to make a decision.)
"Uhhh… Y-Yeah that sounds nice!" (You stammer out. It did sound nice on paper, but there's something nagging you at the back of your mind… Your arms start to itch, scratching at them nervously.)
"Splendid then. We'll stop by the market to get everything we need, then onto the springs."
----------------------------------------------------- (You grumbled some to yourself on the road, just itching away at your arms now and then. They were almost burning now... why are they so blinding ITCHY?! You can't take it anymore, you start to pull at your sleeve, stopping in your tracks as you see them... The still somewhat fresh wounds you carved into your arms during your 'episode'... That's why you had that sinking feeling, this is when they learned about it...) "Siffrin? Are you okay?" (Mirabelle asked, approaching from behind as you quickly covered your arm back up, holding yourself close under your cloak.) "Y-Yeah! Just... uhh... thinking about the loops again..." (You mumbled some, hoping that was enough so she wouldn't pry too deeply. She just gives her usual bright, comforting smile.) "We're ready to hear whenever you want to talk about it, okay Siffrin?" (You nod, your face making it rather clear that now was not that time. She nods back before returning to the rest of the group. You're left alone with your thoughts again... and that awful sinking feeling of the night to come... You've done this before, you can do it again, you're... you're better now... right?...) ------------------------------------------------------- (Everyone was already getting into their swimming attire, the bubbling springs scattered about the area looking so enticing. The steam dances off them through the cool night air. The minerals twinkle and dance with the movement. Everything about it was so relaxing... and the sense of terror in you only grew with each moment... Your heart was ready to pound out of your chest, static rang in your ears, your breath rush out as quickly as it entered. Why is this so hard... Why can't you do this... Maybe you could loop back?! Y-Yeah just go back and pick a different route this time! You'll never have to be here, they'll never have to see, they-) (You suddenly jump as a large hand lands on your shoulder. You look absolutely crazed and manic, looking up at Isa suddenly, who was in turn looking down at you very worriedly.) "S-Sif?..." (He stared in shock. You're losing it! Just stop, breath, ground yourself... You close your eye take a few deep breaths, just doing your best to focus on that and nothing else. You slowly open your eye again once you've settled. Isa looks relieved... You're still worried, but having him beside you is helping.) "Isa... I... There's something... uhm..." (You mumble out, unable to find the words. He just stands there, waiting patiently, letting you take all the time you need... You didn't deserve him sometimes...) "... I did something... o-on that last day... a-and..." (You begin, placing your hand over your arm and rubbing it some.) "It's okay Sif, we aren't gonna judge you. We know you had a real tough time... Come join us when you're ready, okay?..." (Your eye gets watery again, but you nod. You knew you had to do this... You knew you could, no matter how hard it would be.)
"Thanks Isa... I'll be over soon..." (You say with the biggest smile you could muster at the moment. He smiles back with a bit of a chuckle. He invites you in for a hug, which you take without hesitation. You hold onto him for a short while, taking deep breaths to help calm you further. You finally let him go to return to the others.) (You sit with yourself a bit longer, just staring at your clothed arms... One step at a time, that's all you have to do... You grip the star coated underside of your hat, slipping it off and to the side. One down. Next you undo the pins on your cloak. It slips free in your grip, folding it neatly setting it beside your hat. That's two. Onto your gloves, pulling them off one finger at a time. You set those down on your cloak... Last one...) (You take one last deep breath, heading over to the edge of the large pool they were all enjoying. Bonnie splashing at Isa and Mira while they pretended to be under attack. Odile just smiling to herself as she watched from the side. They all stop and look to you, almost curiously... You can do this... You're safe, you are loved... You finally start to pull up your shirt. You bring it over your head, slipping it off, and delicately peeling it off the still sore, inflamed, raw gashes you carved across them. Those stars and constellations you painted into your flesh like a canvas... You hear Mira let out a gasp in shock, quickly covering her mouth. You look across nervously at the others, Isa looked strangely proud and worried at once. Mira was still purely shocked by the gruesome sight. Odile gave her somewhat pensive look, you could just hear her saying "Oh Siffrin..." in her usual way. Their worry and judgement bore into you, causing you to begin to tremble... No... no no no this is bad, stop looking stop looking STOP LOOKING!!! You want to dearly to sink back under your hat and cloak... You notice Bonnie was staring too... though it was hard to place what they were feeling until-) "Woaaaah it looks like the sky! That's so cool!" "BONNIE!?!" "What?! It's pretty!... Fr-Frin?" (Bonnie asks as they look up at you. You let out a sniffle... you were crying again, but you let out a chuckle under your breath from their reaction. You wipe your tears as you slowly step down into the pleasantly hot water, your arms tightly wrapped around yourself. You eventually wade your way closer to the 3 of them. Wordlessly, you find yourself enveloped in a tight hug, surrounded by them all. Even feeling Odile eventually reach the group to provide some hair ruffling, causing you to choke out some light laughs through your sobbing... You're safe... You're loved...)
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xdaddysprincessxx · 3 days
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Anna please tell me more about Madhouse Joel 🥰😚👀
Honestly he’s my fave 😍😍
Okay so this actually came from an ask @toxicanonymity had gotten, like months ago 🫢
I was gonna do a one shot but honestly it was becoming a monster so I’m breaking it up into different parts. A lil snippet under the cut
Madhouse Joel
Growing up, all the adults around you always pushed you to go to college. You were forever being told that you had to go get a higher education to get a good job and then you had to find a good husband and pop out a few children and be a housewife but also work and make money. Your future was planned out for you without anyone ever even asking what you wanted. That was until the summer you turned sixteen. You still aren’t even sure exactly what happened that day. It was mid July in your small southern town in the middle of Texas. You had ventured out to the big oak tree in your backyard, swinging on the old wooden swing your dad had put up for you when you were five. Lost in your own thoughts as your legs swung back and forth when you heard bloodcurdling screams and shouts before two gun shots went off. You lost both your parents that day. During the trial, your mothers lawyer claimed she lost her mind and went insane to explain why she shot your father in the chest. The judge sent her off to spend the rest of her life in a mental institution while your daddy rest in peace up on the hill about a few miles out from your house.
After being orphaned, your dads sister, Aunt Millie, came to live with you at your house. You always loved her, she was only ten years older than you, making her a guardian at only twenty six. She was the one who supported you when you decided to become a nurse.
It’s been a few years since you graduated college, earning your bachelor’s in nursing with a concentration in psychiatric mental health. You had hoped to work in the psych ward, after seeing how your mom was treated in the hospital, it made you want to make a change. You wanted to improve mental hospitals, so many of them are still very medieval in the practices they continue to do. You knew it would be hard to really make any kind of change but you could at least make life a little better for the patients you worked with.
It had actually been a struggle to find work in any healthcare position after graduation which is why you find yourself in Elmwood now. Elmwood is a small town located down in Texas, a few hours south from where you had gone to school. They aren’t joking when they say it’s a small town, it’s home to a little over 3,000 residents. A majority of those residents come from the patients who live in the Elmwood Sanitarium. The most violent, criminally insane people get sent here. And this is where you find yourself pulling up too on a sunny Monday morning. At least it was sunny before you took a left turn down a dirt road a couple miles back. The sanitarium is hidden back, deep in the woods. As you get closer, the old hospital looks daunting and ominous. It leaves the feeling of a deep pit in your stomach, an uncertainty that something bad is gonna happen that you just can’t shake. Making your way into the parking lot that sits to the side of the hospital, you’re able to find a spot close to the front. Putting your car in park, you grab your purse and take a deep breath in,
“You got this. They reached out to you. They offered you a job because you’re good at what you do,” breathe out, “let’s do this.”
You give yourself a little pep talk to try to help subside this horrible gut feeling you have
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smokestarrules · 2 years
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*inhales*
LUZ ISN’T BEING STOIC OR UNCARING IN THIS SCENE, SHE’S JUST TRYING NOT TO OVERWHELM AND SHAME HIM FOR CRYING BECAUSE IN THE PAST HE’S NOT WANTED TO BE TOUCHED DURING AN EMOTIONAL MOMENT 
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estellan0vella · 7 hours
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The Two Strongest ❀Satoru Gojo Masterlist HFBU
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You’re sitting on the soft, green grass of a tranquil park, nestled comfortably in Satoru’s arms. His white hair catches the sunlight, creating an ethereal halo around his head, and his trademark blindfold is replaced by sunglasses that let you see his captivating blue eyes. He holds you close, his presence a soothing balm to your anxious mind.
Living with epilepsy is a constant challenge, but with Satoru, you feel a sense of security that you've rarely experienced before. Today, the park is alive with the laughter of children, the chirping of birds, and the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. It’s a beautiful day, and Satoru insists on making the most of it.
“You know,” he says, his voice a mix of playfulness and sincerity, “I’ve been thinking about getting you a protective charm. Something to ward off bad spirits and maybe even seizures.”
You laugh, the sound light and airy. “Do those even exist?”
He grins, that signature cocky smile that’s somehow endearing. “Well, if they don’t, I’ll just have to make one. I am the strongest sorcerer, after all.”
His confidence is infectious, and you can’t help but feel a bit more at ease. The two of you lie back, staring up at the sky, the clouds drifting lazily above. Satoru’s fingers trace patterns on your arm, a comforting presence that keeps you grounded.
“Do you remember the first time we met?” you ask, turning your head to look at him.
He chuckles. “How could I forget? You were so determined to ignore me.”
“I thought you were just another arrogant sorcerer,” you admit, a smile playing on your lips. “But then you surprised me.”
“I have that effect on people,” he says, his tone teasing yet gentle. “But you… you’re different. You see beyond the surface.”
You nod, feeling a rush of affection for him. Despite his often flamboyant personality, Satoru has a depth to him that you’ve come to cherish. He’s been there for you through the toughest times, and you’ve seen sides of him that few others have.
Suddenly, you feel a familiar sensation—a warning sign that a seizure might be coming. Your heart rate picks up, and you grip Satoru’s hand a little tighter. He immediately senses the change, his playful demeanor shifting to one of concern and readiness.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, his voice steady and reassuring.
You nod, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. “I think I might have a seizure soon.”
Without missing a beat, Satoru sits up and helps you into a more comfortable position, his hands gentle but firm. He’s done this many times before, and his calmness helps to ease your anxiety.
“Remember to focus on your breathing,” he says softly. “I’m right here with you.”
As the seizure starts, you feel Satoru’s presence anchoring you. He speaks to you in a soothing tone, reminding you that you’re safe and that he’s there. The world blurs and shifts, but his voice remains a constant, guiding you through the storm.
When it’s over, you’re exhausted, but Satoru is right there, holding you gently, his arms a safe haven. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender and reassuring.
“You did great,” he says, his voice filled with pride and love. “Just rest now. I’ve got you.”
You close your eyes, allowing yourself to relax in his embrace. The park’s sounds fade into the background as you focus on the steady rhythm of his breathing. It’s moments like these that remind you just how lucky you are to have Satoru in your life.
Later, as the sun begins to set, casting a warm glow over the park, you start to feel more like yourself again. Satoru helps you sit up, his hands never straying far from you.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, his blue eyes filled with concern.
“Tired, but better,” you reply, giving him a small smile. “Thank you for being here.”
“Always,” he says, kissing your forehead. “I’ll always be here for you.”
You lean into him, grateful for his unwavering support. Despite the challenges that come with your epilepsy, you know that with Satoru by your side, you can face anything.
As you both get up to leave, Satoru swings his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “How about we get some ice cream? I know a place that has the best flavors.”
You laugh, nodding eagerly. “That sounds perfect.”
Walking side by side, you make your way out of the park, feeling lighter and more hopeful. Satoru’s presence is a constant reminder that you’re not alone in this journey. Together, you can navigate the ups and downs, finding joy and love in each moment.
The ice cream shop is cozy and inviting, with a wide array of flavors to choose from. Satoru insists on trying a bit of everything, making you laugh as he piles his cone high with a rainbow of colors. You opt for your favorite flavor, content to watch his childlike excitement.
As you sit together, enjoying your ice cream, Satoru’s hand finds yours under the table. He gives it a gentle squeeze, his eyes twinkling with affection.
“You know,” he says, his tone thoughtful, “I think we make a pretty great team. The Two Strongest"
You smile, your heart swelling with love. “Yeah, we do.”
Satoru’s expression softens, and he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. “No matter what happens, I’m here for you. Always.”
You turn to face him, your eyes locking onto his. “And I’m here for you too, Satoru. Always.”
In that moment, surrounded by the simple joy of ice cream and each other’s company, you feel an overwhelming sense of peace. Life with epilepsy may be unpredictable, but with Satoru by your side, you know that you can face whatever comes your way.
As the evening draws to a close, you and Satoru walk hand in hand through the quiet streets, the city lights twinkling around you. You talk about everything and nothing, your conversations flowing effortlessly. There’s a comfort in being with someone who understands you so deeply, who knows your fears and your strengths, and loves you just the same.
When you finally reach your apartment, Satoru pulls you into a warm embrace. “Get some rest,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You nod, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. “Goodnight, Satoru.”
“Goodnight,” he replies, his voice soft and tender.
As you watch him walk away, you feel a deep sense of gratitude for the love and support he brings into your life. With Satoru, you’ve found a partner who not only accepts you for who you are but also empowers you to face each day with courage and hope.
And as you close the door behind you, you know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, you’ll never have to face them alone.
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meateater-lamb · 2 years
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screampied · 2 months
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YOU AND YOUR BRILLIANT WRITING ARE AMAZING OMGOMG. all i’ve been thinking about is the jjk men getting their girl LMAO yk breeeeeding until actual mind break w the goal just being planting a seed in your tummy 🫠
໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ GETTING A SCREAMPIE !!!! ’﹒
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𐚁̸ sum. top jjk men and how they breed you + toji, gojo, sukuna, choso, mdni.
𐚁̸ warnings. fem! reader, brēeding kink, unprotected, size kink, oral (f), dirty talk, daddy kink, missiōnary, mating press, cowgirl / rev, mentions of pregnancy, manhandling, bum ass toji, sukuna has two cawks. an thank yewwww !!
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☆ CHOSO KAMO
probably the heaviest breeding kink known to man—he’s half curse so he’s infertile.
choso knows the inability to reproduce but he always takes it as an opportunity to stuff you full, again, and again, and again.
“o-one more,” he breathes out, his voice was so breathy, clinging onto each breath that yanks out from esophagus. drowsy eyes shut tight as he’s watching such ropes of his cum already ooze out of both holes. choso’s ears feel fuzzy—he feels fuzzy, but the only thing that was currently on his mind was his goal to make your tummy all plump and rounded. laid flat against your back, you stare as he hovers over you with a cute pout on his lips. his jaw tightens before he pulls out just to stare at the mess between your thighs. “one more, baby. ‘m still full, s—so fuckin’ full,” and he leans in for a kiss, a deep one that’s enlaced with a mixture of your saliva and his. choso’s breath is heavy, he’s heaving as his body pressed into you—thick hands reaching between your thighs just to plug his own seed back into you. “don’t waste it, okay? i saved all of it. saved it just for you, just for us...”
his voice was so tender, such smoothness lingers underneath it as your legs tightly snake around his waist. choso’s staring at you, so in love—he’s always been in love with you though. he was obsessed with you, although his new current obsession was seeing you with a swollen tummy.
again, he’s infertile—yes, but he still likes to imagine he can get his pretty girl pregnant.
oh how he just desperately yearns to gift you with a baby or two . . or three. “c-choso,” you’d mewl out, softly piercing your teeth into the inner parts of his collarbone. choso likes to pull out, pull back in, then out again. a mess, your pussy was flooded with such ropes of his hot cum that he can’t help but gaze at it with a cute sheepish grin.
in his mind he’s thinking . . ‘did i do that?’
and he did, although this time once he pulls out his now flaccid cock—he whines, lowering his head towards between your thighs to get a much closer look, a better view of the mess he was primarily responsible for. “oh no, it’s spilling out,” he says with a cute furrow tugging at his thin eyebrows. choso’s very gentle, he creates a soft strumming a thumb against your swollen clit before he surprises you with his next action. he lolls out his pink clean tongue before tasting the aftermath—tasting himself, a concoction of your slick arousal with his own bitter taste. he doesn’t mind at all, choso’s quite the freak in bed so the moment he runs his tongue against your entrance, there’s no stopping. “gotta k-keep my baby plugged in so she can give me a mini me,” he whimpers, lapping his tongue gradually against your folds—he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment at the bitter taste lingering on the flatness of his taste buds. you’re throbbing, a hand combs its way through his messy strands before you start to arch. “right?”
so cute, your heart swells up with a mush of butterflies as you feel his eyes pierce into you— as he speaks, choso’s voice briefly cracks and he continues to clean up the sloppy mess, using his same stubby thumb to plug your cunt back up with the cum that resumes to spew out gradually.
“y-yes, don’t stop, ‘cho,” you mutter out in jittery words—his tongue was so slow and precise, making sure to rummage through every part of your clit. with two fingers, he pries open your pussy more to get an entire glimpse. he feels his cock strain, wide eyes the size of saucers peer right into you before he gives your cunt a plethora of individual chaste kisses.
mwah after mwah. by this point, he’s making out with your pussy — strings of his own mess forming into a little sheeny cobweb, as well as your wet saliva that coats his lips in such a glittery color. “praise me more, p-please. wanna know how good ‘m making my princess feel.”
with a soft sadden pout, he looks up at you with glossy eyes—such wetness all over his lips before he starts to create sucks against your cunt, nibbling on it shortly afterward. you’re throbbing in his mouth and he shivers incessantly once he feels your fingers playfully massage all through his neglected scalp.
“making me feel so good, you’re doing so well baby,” you whimper out, “s-so fuckin’ good.” his tongue was quite long too—considering how he was a curse, he made sure he knew how to eat you out. choso moans, a mere gritty grunt shortly follows as he reaches a hand down to touch himself before he pauses.
“can i touch myself too? can i touch myself while i clean my pretty girl off?”
“yes baby.”
“fuck, s-say it again,” he whines, leaning right into your touch. he was like a kitten— purring at the way your fingers comb through his hair, tickling his scalp. he awaits for your answer with drowsy eyes and a pouty lip that continues to tremor. “please.”
you giggle at the way he was so in love with your voice, especially in a mere intimate moment like this. “yes baby,” you coo in a melodic tone, watching his droopy eyes shine and he pants before hesitatingly reaching a hand down to feel on his left out twitching cock. “touch yourself for me, ‘s okay,” and he whines as you softly pick up his head from between your legs by his hair—he intakes a breath, and you pull him into a deep kiss. choso whimpers, starting to stroke himself, leaky reddened tip all cold from the wafting air as you taste the mess all on his tongue. bitter yet sweet, he runs a hand on your tummy before he feels your legs wrap around his slim waist once more. once you pull away, you mutter out a soft, “you’re such a good boy for me, choso.”
“heh, i— i try to be,” he pouts, sheeny lips glossed with his own arousal and yours included. choso’s big hand rests against your tummy before he gingerly presses down on it, leaning in for another kiss. “i wanna be good for you,” he whines before leaning down again to kiss near your navel. “wanna be good for you ‘n our future baby.”
☆ TOJI FUSHIGURO
with toji— it’s evident that he’s got a major breeding kink. the thought of you walking around with a plump swelling tummy drives him crazy.
although, he’s not too keen on baring a child— he’s only more worried about the making process.
stuffing you full of velvety ropes of his hot sticky cum. his favorite part, especially whenever he’s pressed right up against you— like now, with you in nothing more than a lewd mating press position. your legs would be sprawled all up, maw dangling open and your eyes criss-crossing each other each particular second.
“shit, what a fuckin’ mess,” he grumbles, such sharp hips smack into you at full force that you can barely react in time. it’s so deep, you moan, pawing and clawing your hands at his tense back muscles. he grunts, feeling your fingertips carve into his skin, scratching his back all up. you’re decorating his back with multiple marks, marks that he loves to show off after the night ends. toji’s rhythm was simply overzealous — insanity at its finest. with a big hand, he cups your chin before giving you a wet kiss. you whine into his mouth, just a doll being rigorously pounded into the frame, mixing his saliva with yours before he pulls away. “keep moanin’ for me like that ‘n i’m really gonna get ya pregnant, girl.”
“s—so do it then, toji.” you spat, your own breaths betraying you with how quick they came and go. you felt like you were ruining a 5k marathon, such wind snatches out of your chest as he makes sure to thrust deep to where his cum that was already inside of you from before stays right in it’s place. he narrows his eyes at you before snickering, pulling you into another deep kiss.
this time, it’s more sloppier. teeth clashing, tongues tango and tangling amongst each other.
his breath was abnormally warm, you taste the lingering tang of booze on his tongue as he rocks his beefy body against yours. you’re about to break, his thrusts became so slow yet deep—the right amount to make you lose your mind.
“toji. . . ?” he sneers, using a thumb to pull your bottom lip down. dark green eyes watch as you’re right at your peak practically. your legs quiver and quaver as he’s just jackhammering his thick cock into you repeatedly in such a rude provocative way. “didn’t know we were on a first name basis, sweetheart.”
“d-daddyyy,” you mewl out, feeling his fat base just thwack against your entrance. previous strings of his own sweltering cum sticks against your skin— each time he pulls himself back to fuck back into you, it smears against your thighs and it’s such a mess. he wraps a hand around your throat, a thumb gliding down the middle part and he feels the sheer vibrations of each individual whine that departs from your mouth. “fuck, fuck, ah ah ‘m gonna cum soon, daddy.”
“bet ya fuckin’ are. ‘specially with a pussy this sloppy ‘n wet. should be ashamed of bein’ this soaked all on me,” he snarls right up against your ear— even his voice has you sopping, your cunt pulses with each word that comes from his mouth that it’s just pathetic. you were no match for his pace, his hips, even his dirty talk. your heartbeat was racing through your ears, rapidly. by now, you were just a pocket pussy—a mere fleshlight, the bed jolts and oscillates from each impactful hit that it even starts moaning itself, as if it’s competing with you. “i’ll give you twins, ‘s that what you want? or are you more of a triplets kinda gal?”
“just give me a baby, daddy.”
“just give me a baby, daddy.” he repeats your tone before cackling—so mean, he watches the pout go against your lips before he greets your wet pussy with a rough spank. you wince, the sting from the entire hit makes your cunt throb at a more quickened pace. you’re so dumb, not a single thought in the world except the fact that you’d be having more ropes of toji’s warm cum oozing out of you in just a minute. just the thought makes you salivate. “greedy . . fuckin’ . . pussy . . holdin’ . . me . . hostage,” he enunciates between each pausing thrust. you writhe underneath him before you end up finishing the same time as him—a loud ear shrilling whimper leaves your throat and he’s pouring another sweet amount of cum into you, this times it’s a lot though. he groans, canines digging into your neck softly as your legs lock around him tightly like a vice.
and as he’s still spewing out such ropes, making sure your pussy is grateful and soaks in ever single drop, he grabs your chin. “now tell me, little girl,” and he kisses you for about a millisecond before continuing his sentence with a sly grin, “are ya ready to be a single mother?”
☆ SUKUNA RYŌMEN
“oh, boo. is my future queen already too full?”
such playful words, the gravelly rasp in his tone only makes you ten times more dripping wet.
with your back pressed against him—you’d be facing yourself in front a mirror, struggling to take one out of two of his thick staggering cocks. one of them was idly resting on his tummy—angry red tip, glistening with a pretty translucent color of his own fluid. “more, m-more ‘kuna.”
“when i’m in the process of breeding you, it’s 'my lord', woman.” he warns you, his lower arm out of the other three wraps around your body. his lips press up against your ear and you lean back against him— he chortles, watching your cunt slowly swallow him up again. so tight, so warm, it makes him suck his teeth in contentment at the way your body always responds to him. just a single touch from sukuna and you were on your way to the fifth climax of the night, “you got me?”
“y—yes, my lord,” you moan, feeling the fat tip of his cock ferret all throughout your gummy walls. instinctively, you compress and brace all around him. his jaw tightens, infamous fangs poking out of his lips before he resumes to guide your cute hips. your rhythm was a bit slow . . . it’s simply because he’s so fucking big, sukuna’s so beefy too. two of his extra arms spreads your legs just a bit wider and you let out a cute shriek once he successfully locates your secretive g-spot. he knows your anatomy like it was the back of his hand. you’re spasming, drool seeping from the corners of your mouth as you feel his claws gingerly scrap against your curves. “breed me, pleasepleaseplease.”
he jeers in a low tone— the fact that you’re making an entire mess on his own personal throne like this. the audacity, but maybe he’s even got a little soft spot for you.
“my obedient girl,” he words warm its way into your heart before you’re bouncing on his shaft now— your breathing becomes insignificantly heavy and you grip onto his knees before he brings another lower arm between your cunt. “hm. if i spank this disgraceful pussy will it give me a baby sooner? let’s try it.”
“s—sukunaaaa,” you’d whine out, his touch making your nipples perk up. you were so sensitive—especially after your most recent screaming orgasm that had your throat clinging onto its last and final pipes. each smack he makes against your wet cunt was so slick, saturated with your own arousal that he smears it all over folds. your swollen pussy was awaiting more satiny ropes as he’s just mindlessly pumping in and out of you. he groans, feeling a twinging burn underneath his calve as he holds you down. “don’t stop, don’t s-stop, pleaseee.”
“dumb woman, thought i told ya to not call me sukuna when ‘m inside this pussy?” and he holds your head up—with your mouth all open, eyes droopy, tips of your ears burning, you felt everything. you’re so stupid that your thighs ache, your brain short circuits, you’re almost frothing. the more his thick cock pummels into you— the more your ears fill up with straight fuzz. “i’ll let it slide just for today, you’re lucky i like you.”
his words were a mere purr to you, so seductive.
with two rough hands, he makes you grind against him instead of bouncing—purposely making sure that you feel every single inch, every entire being of his hardened cock. he pulses inside you, and you whine before slumping right against his broad lap. the ancient markings that perfectly decorate his skin graze against your back and you whimper before he starts to feel his breathing pick up. “f—fuck, bare around me like that, good girl, goooood,” and as he still has your spasming hips in place, he spanks your ass before it finally arises. sukuna shoots inside of your cunt, a hefty amount of cum that spits right inside of your folds. “. . ah,” he gasps, and for a second you could almost hear him whine. you jitter your hips forward a bit, making sure a drop doesn’t spill out before he snickers right against your ear, lifting you up from his lap to realign himself. “cute. but let’s try to make you even more full with two cocks, yeah?”
☆ GOJO SATORU
he wouldn’t even realize he has a breeding kink until he’s literally guts deep inside of you.
gojo’s a simple man, he likes to return home from a long mission + day at work to his pretty wife. correction, his pretty wife with no panties underneath. the moment he crosses your path near the kitchen, he brings you into a rough kiss, hands finding its way towards the back of your ass. he gives it a tight squeeze, leading you straight towards the bed—he doesn’t even have to say a single word either.
he’s a simple man, he knows what he wants, and he wants you.
“t-toruuu,” you’d gasp out, scratching up his back with various marks. he never minded, if anything it only turns him on. he was so deep, a feral gaze meets yours—hooded eyes and he’s breathing in and out, cloudy puffs of air ghost from his lips as his thick cock just pounds straight into you at full throttle. missionary—a simple yet straight forward position that he always loved to do whenever he was feeling lazy. especially now, your legs were cutely raised up, weight bouncing and bouncing as he briefly holds up your leg to run his tongue against your ankle. “fuck, fuck, fuckkk.”
he’s whimpering himself, white strands sticking to his forehead like hot glue before he rocks against you further—clenching his perfectly chiseled jaw as he hitched his breath. “ohhh fuck, ‘s good, ‘m gonna cum again, baby. so wet, gonna milk the shit out of me.” and his hips frantically stutter, right in front of your eyes—you squeeze him with all your might before momentarily, he dumps another sloppy load into you again. by now, you lost track—you were just stuffed, hot cum seeps and dribbles out of your swollen glistening cunt before he leans into your neck. “. . . ugh,” and he sounds like a alluring harmony, even his grunts were blissful and melodic. “not enough, still not enough for my baby.”
“so full, ‘toru,” you’d mewl out, shivering once he softly bites his pearly whites into your neck. doing so, his own muffles and a certain itch in your brain gets scratched once the crown of his dick batters strenuously against your most sweetest spot. “ohmygod right there, please.“
“y-yeah?” he swallows, and his cologne runs against your nostrils—even his loud scent had you drenched, you throb as he frowns once he suddenly feels his own seed pouring all down your thighs. he stares at it and it’s so much, with a cute attempt to fuck it back into you—his hips grind slowly against you, a soft little pout stretching against his pink lips as your legs wrap around his slim waist oh so tightly. “i missed this,” he rasps, and he starts to ram his cock into you again. it goes on for hours—with gojo satoru, stamina for him is practically non-existent. “i missed my f-favorite pussy so bad, fuckkk.”
so whiney, he couldn’t help it. your tongue lolls out and you’re sure he’s already broken you—you whine at his rhythmic speed. it’s so hypnotic, it’s so salacious. the way his hips dance against yours at such a rough pace was just purely euphoric. clammy hands of yours grab onto his bulky thighs and you you moan before you end up being too loud so he covers your hand, whispering lowly. “listen to it with me.”
so you do—you grow quiet the moment his big hand goes against your face, shielding your moans any further and the bed just squeaks in squeaks. as if your body was in sync, in harmony with his, minutes pass before he ends up cumming again. gojo’s buried all the way down to the hilt, fat balls smacking against your entrance in such a mean way before you hear the little squelches spurt right into you. it was so messy, he looks down before pressing a hand against your plump tummy. “god, you’re so fuckin’ hot,” he utters in a hoarse voice, leaning in to kiss all over your face. you’re so dizzy—your cunt was now over flooding with nothing but his thick cum. “we’re gonna have the prettiest babies, promise.”
and then he watches as you try to catch your breath, sprawled all out whilst he’s still inside of you—dick still twitching inside before he kisses the tip of your nose. “you’d be such a good mommy for me, such a good mommy for satoru fuckin’ gojo.”
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surftrips · 6 months
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SWEET NOTHING
pairing: luke castellan x reader
summary: y/n comforts luke after he sees percy claimed by poseidon.
word count: 600+
a/n: y'all i know. how many more morally grey characters can i write fics for? i couldn't help it, he's so bf in the first two episodes so this takes place in a world where he’s done nothing wrong <3
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You watched as your boyfriend’s face changed after seeing the newest camp member, Percy Jackson, claimed by his father, Poseidon. 
Luke wasn’t one of the unclaimed kids, but he might as well have been. His relationship with his father Hermes was a strained one, but he pretended like it didn’t bother him. 
But now, it was hard not to notice the sadness and frustration that had clouded Luke’s face as he watched the trident appear above Percy’s head. Before you could go over to comfort him, he had already run away from the scene. 
You decided to give him some space, figuring that he had gone back to his cabin. As the other camp members slowly dispersed, you looked around for Annabeth. 
Upon laying your eyes on the dark-haired girl in the crowd of people, you beckoned her over. 
“Hey! Did you see that?” she asked you, excitedly.
“Yeah, that was crazy!” you admitted. “How’d you know he was Poseidon’s?”
“I’ve been watching him.”
“Of course,” you smiled. Luke had told you about Annabeth's desire to find “The Chosen One.” 
“Wait- where’s Luke?” she asked, as if on cue.
“I was gonna talk to you about that- I think he ran back to his cabin.”
“What- why?”
“I think he had some feelings about Percy being claimed, if you know what I mean.” 
“Oh,” Annabeth replied, putting the pieces together. 
“Yeah, I’m giving him some space right now, but do you have any advice on how to approach this? I don’t want to upset him any more.”
“Look, Y/N, you’re his girlfriend. Just do your best to comfort him and I’m sure he’ll start to feel better.”
“I know, but you’re his sister! You know him best, what if I say the wrong thing?” 
“You can’t say the wrong thing. He loves you, Y/N. He just needs to see that someone is there for him.” 
“Okay, thank you, Annabeth,” you gave her a hug before heading in the direction of the Hermes cabin. 
You were relieved to find that the other campers had not gotten back yet. You gently pushed open the door and found yourself facing your boyfriend’s back sitting on his bed. 
“Luke?” you called out.
He turned to face you, hastily swiping at the tears that had fallen onto his cheeks. 
“Oh, sweet boy, come here,” you ran over to take him in your arms. He let his tears fall again, and your heart broke seeing him like this. You knew that he acted brave all the time, but deep down, he was hurting.
“Hey, it’s okay. Just let it out,” you attempted to calm him down. 
“Why doesn’t he care about me?” he cried.
“Baby, it’s okay. He doesn’t matter, alright? It has nothing to do with you.” 
“Yes, it does. Percy killed a minotaur and broke Clarisse’s spear and his dad just came swooping in.” 
“Look at me,” you pulled away to lift his face up. “You are so, so special. Anyone that knows you can say that. Hell, you’re the best swordsman in this camp. But you know what else? You’re kind, and caring, and you have all this compassion in your heart, despite it all. If he can’t see your worth in that, then that’s a reflection of him, not you.” 
Luke didn’t say anything, instead he worked on catching his breath as you continued to rub his back and lay kisses on his forehead. 
“Thank you,” he said after a moment, still sniffling. 
“For what, baby?” 
“For seeing me. And staying.”
“To know you is to love you, Luke Castellan,” you gave him another kiss, this time on his lips.
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peachesofteal · 2 months
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ghoap x reader / 18+ mdni / dark themes
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It’s the sundress. 
The way it flows off your hips, your body moving beneath it, skin glowing just under the hem. You're lucent in it, radiant in a way he's never seen, brilliance so stunning it catches his breath. You’re a perfect peach, juicy and ripe, plump and sumptuous, skin so soft he’d only need a nip to tear into it, the barest bruise of pressure allowing him to drink his fill of precious honeyed nectar. 
There are dozens of people in the café, but he only sees you, can’t tear his gaze away, sick with the heavy tug in his heart, drawing him closer and closer, fingers tense around the flimsy paper cup. He stares, openly, even after Simon clears his throat, scuffs his foot against the sidewalk, says his name. 
Johnny has no patience for a kill, or a meal. He likes to rip into fresh things, soak his maw and stretch his jaw around them, swallow them whole if he can.
Swallow you whole, if he can.
A bead of sweat collects at the back of your neck, and he traces its path between your shoulder blades and below, mouth watering at the singular thought of a taste. 
His tongue licking down your spine to the cleft of your arse, soft, sweet skin parted for him, face crammed between your legs, panting, pushing, desperate for more, and more, and- 
“Johnny.”  
“Pretty thing.” He barely looks at his partner, the heat simmering in his stomach curling into a snare. “Little pocket a’ sunshine.” 
“Johnny.” 
“Ye see ‘er?” Simon’s eyes dig into him, and then you, following the seam of your dress from thigh to shoulder. There’s insatiable insanity in his face, and Johnny knows- 
He sees it too. 
“I do.” 
“Ye dinnae want a taste?” 
“Not enough time.” He nods next door, where the darkness looms, waits for them expectantly. A meeting, a negotiation, a riotous push and pull. The things he’s good at, the part of his job that doesn’t include intimidating or killing or orchestrating a disturbance. 
His hands sow choreographed chaos, but in this moment, he’d rather they do something else instead. 
Pin you down. Pry your thighs wide. Bury his face in your cunt. Would you struggle? Would you cry? Would you take it like a good girl, breathy and sweet, lips shocked into a perfect O for his thumb, pad of it pressed down on your tongue, taste- 
“Better think fast.” Simon warns, jolting him from the fantasy that has his cock swelling, and when he sees you heading for the door, dreamy smile on your face, iced latte precarious in your grip, a plan roars to life. 
It’s easy, to pretend it’s an accident. Easy to act shocked and embarrassed. Easy, to feel terrible about ruining your dress. 
Your gasp is music to his ears. 
“Oh my god-“ it’s almost too much, watching the crushing realization sink in across your features, the dismay at the sight of your newly acquired caffeine fix rushing down the front of your sunflower dotted dress. 
They’ll buy you a new one. They’ll buy you hundreds. 
“’m so sorry.” He croons, reaching to steady you, carefully gripping your elbow under the guise of balance. “Ah, bonnie. ‘m so sorry, I didnae see ye and I was rushin’.” 
“It’s… it’s okay.” You’re blinking too fast, trying to hold back tears, trying to keep yourself together. The patchwork, the glue and tape, parts and pieces easily crumble, even as you try to take a deep breath. “I’m… it’s fine.” 
“Yer dress is ruined.” Obviously. “Let me pay to get it cleaned, at least.” 
“No, no… that’s… it’s okay. I’ll… I’ll just run home, no big deal.” He beats back the burn, the wildfire scorching away the last of his sanity. 
“Please.” Simon chimes in over his shoulder. “It’s the least we can do.” You look between them, confused, eyes wide like a little doe, lost all alone in the deep, dark forest.
Flanked by wolves.
“Or let us give ye a ride to yer place, so ye can change.” He jerks his head to the sleek black sedan, idling at the corner, driver still behind the wheel. The meeting can wait, they've got more pressing issues to attend, now. 
“Oh… uh-“ He can smell the rot of your hesitance. That’s the thing about a doe, they’re naturally skittish, trembling legs uneasy from the day they were born, nervous about their own shadow. “It’s fine, I can walk. It’s not far.” 
“I feel terrible, let me pay for it.” He pours it thick, and as expected, the guilt about making him feel worse locks into place. “I dinnae what I’ll do if we cannae help. If ye give me yer number, we can arrange to cover the cleaners?” Simon looms closer, fingers folding over Johnny's shoulder in an affectionate gesture.
You almost look relieved at the sight.
Poor little doe. 
In the end, you agree. When you give them your name, he traces over each syllable tenderly, memorizing the way it sounds on your lips, as Simon taps a phone number into your contacts.
"Ye go straight home an' change." Johnny murmurs, holding onto your hand a shade too long after you pass him back his phone. "Dinnae want ye walkin' around in a dirty dress all afternoon." You fidget, waxing crescent on your lips, and nod.
"I'll uh... I'll let you know how much it is." There's a hint of a tremble in the back of your throat, off key and off kilter, and he smiles to reassure you, before the two of them turn to take their leave.
"We'll talk to ye soon."
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