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#the voices are telling me to make things again
kenntolog · 2 days
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Can I request something with popular bf Gojo and shy gf reader where reader is getting belittled and bullied by a group of girls and has been for a while, but doesn’t tell Gojo cause he doesn’t want her to worry, and sort of taking what they say to heart a little. Gojo notice this and eventually reader breaks down and tells him what’s going on
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as soon as it starts, gojo notices something shifting in you immediately.
it’s not a visible nor a clearly sensible shift in your behaviour or appearance, yet somehow gojo is able to tell something is wrong and he is kind of proud of himself for that. yet the feeling of pride dims compared to the worry growing inside of him.
because you never tell him when something bothers you and he’s sure whatever is happening, he’s just not there to see it. you’re too embarrassed to say it to him since you don’t want him to worry, which sucks completely. it gets so bad, that satoru has to physically stop you from running away whenever he starts asking about what’s the matter, but you get overwhelmed easily and he lets go.
yet, this time he catches you right when you want to slip away; red eyes and shaking shoulders as you try to contain your sobs and run away from him so he doesn’t see, but he is quick to catch up to you in the empty hallway, caging you between his arms.
“let go, ‘toru—”
he gently tugs your hands away from your face, frowning at the dried tracks of tears on your cheeks , “no, tell me what’s wrong.”
“please, can’t we talk later?”
“no! stop running away from me!”
the way his voice cracks makes you shudder as you look up at him warily, finally realising that he’s hurt too. you stop resisting and hide yourself in his chest, sobbing violently while satoru holds you close silently. he moves around so he can slide down the wall and have you sit in his lap, arms only tightening around you.
“they…” you gaze at him through your wet eyelashes, voice a little shaky as your eyes bore into the worry splashing deeply in his, “they say mean things to me.”
“what kind of mean things?”
“all kinds of,” you mumble, eventually relaxing into his hold and letting him stroke your hair. “about my looks, my face, my stuff — just everything, y’know?”
he hums, hoping you’d continue.
“i know i should just ignore that, but then they start saying stuff about you and our relationship, and i can’t help but let it get to me? i know you love me, yet i… maybe they are right? maybe i am not good enough and you deserve more. prettier. funnier. smarter.”
you voice gets more and more quiet as you ramble about what’s been happening. and as you fiddle with your fingers, head hung low with staggered breathing, you’re unable to see how every single word you say nearly breaks satoru’s heart into a million of pieces.
“oh sweetheart.”
you look up at him, wiping the last of your tears. it seems like you’ve already come to terms with whatever the hell they were spewing at you and it makes satoru very angry. it has been going on for far too long, so long that it changed your brain chemistry and how you feel about yourself, and he hates it so so much.
“you are more than enough for me.”
you stare at him all wide eyed for a second before your face scrunches and you start crying once again, hot tears staining his hand as he wipes every single one of them. gojo cups your face gently and brings it closer to his so he can speak directly into your ear.
and he doesn’t spare any of his thoughts for you, letting you know that you’re everything he wants and he wouldn’t ask for anyone else; that you’re his favourite person in the whole world and he loves you very very much; that it hurts him that you’re hurting and are scared to tell because he’d do anything it takes to make you feel better. placing gentle kisses on your cheek since it’s so closer and he absolutely can’t resist you.
satoru doesn’t expect you to change your mind about everything in one day, but he’s ready to tell you those same words and more every single day if that’s what you need.
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pixiecaps · 2 days
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recapping a bit of what haru said on stream
haru on her stream spoke about how shes had a really awful past five years and all her experiences just from this past year has been incredible. she gave a massive thank you to everyone and that she has no regrets.
“i never imagined i’d be where i am right now and i mean it with all my heart thank you so much. i had a very good time and i hope to have made you guys happy.”
she mentioned that since she was young shes always wanted to make content that makes people happy because she felt the world was missing a lot of love so shes happy to have given the world a piece of her heart. she mentioned how shes met so many incredible people who motivated her to see the good parts of life. to have found even this little bit of sunshine has left her so grateful. she says thank you for all the kindness, all the moments, all the memories, all the words, everything. shes very happy and mentioned this has been a very special experience for her. she reminded her chat that theres always another day and to enjoy life to the maximum, to live, to love, to talk, to hug each other, to be happy always, and that all the beautiful happiness we’ve given her will be returned back to us. she continues to express her gratitude. she mentioned this is one of the most beautiful communities shes ever had the pleasure of meeting in the entire world. she goes on to include the spanish, portuguese, french, english, german, and korean community in that statement.
“there is love in all types of languages and that love needs to be shared.“
she said her words will never be enough to express all her gratitude. she gave a reminder to always keep being kind. her voice falters a couple times from all the emotions. she mentioned shes cried enough and didn’t want to keep crying since she had something to do tomorrow and she didnt wanna have swollen eyes lmao.
she then shares a more personal moment. paraphrasing here.
“after i lost my dad i swear i felt like my life was falling apart. i never thought i’d be able to recover. after that many things happened and in those things, i wasnt destined to meet two people, this is a story i’ll always remember because i wasnt destined to meet these people. … they tell me hey the actor for this little thing didn’t show up and i say no way seriously? tell them to let me be it, tell them please because i want to be with you guys (harus two friends who were apart of the project). and i didnt think they’d agree… and they said yes. and i met two very important people and honestly (starts crying) thank you so much. thank you so much nussa. thanks to you i was able to meet them. i never imagined this would happen i promise you. thank you nussa. it means a lot to me that you decided to put me (into the leo spot). the only major thing in my life, i started being so happy, i started enjoying all the moments in my life as if it were the last, thanks to all this i’m here. and could meet you all. such a beautiful community.” she goes on to keep thanking nussa while crying and saying it was written in the stars. she goes on to say that shes gonna tell this as a story some day to her family, who doesnt know what she does or that she streams, and she’ll tell them about all of this with so much care and love. shes very thankful to have learned so much english and more about so many different cultures. she again reiterates shes very happy.
she also teases that she wants to go to brazil!!!! which… might be soon… and that theres little things being planned so hopefully if all goes well…👀 (an egg admin meetup would go so hard)
NOW GO SUPPORT HER ON TWITCH @ HarumiVT
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pucked-bunnie · 2 days
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menace ⎜l.hughes
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pairings: luke hughes x reader ⎜ ft matt rempe prompt: "back the fuck off" genre: fluff ⎜established relationship ⎜ warnings: matt rempe being a menace as per usual ⎜angry luke ⎜protective bf luke ⎜mentions of fighting ⎜insults towards reader and luke ⎜ synopsis: you never realised your boyfriend could get so fired up by a simple little comment. word count: 3.6k authors note:  this was requested a while ago and was the clear winner of the poll I put up so I hope you all enjoy. also don't pay too much attention to the timeline it is less than accurate.
(UNEDITED)
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Luke doesn’t know a lot about many things. 
But he does know a lot about hockey. 
His life has always been about hockey - sleep, eat, hockey, repeat - so when he met you it was refreshing to not have to live for hockey. 
It was refreshing to live for him. 
The first time the two of you had met, you were sitting at the only table with a free seat in the library - Lukes textbook for his sports management classes in his arms as he looks around for any other possibilities, not wanting to disturb the brunette girl with her nose in her own textbooks. 
“You can sit down, you know.” Your voice was quiet, and at first he was sure he had imagined it and continued glancing around for other seats. “I’m not going to bite.” You added as you pushed your headphones off your head, glancing away from your books at the lost boy. 
Lukes eyes shoot to yours, his head nodding quickly as he shuffles over to the seat, his shoulders rising in a cringe as his textbooks drop on the table - the bang resonating through the library, a few heads turning his way as he quickly slides into the chair. You watch him as he opens his text book staring at the page for a few moments before pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. 
“You good there, curly?” Luke's eyes raise to meet yours, your head tilted in amusement as you glance down at his books and then back up at him. 
“This class was supposed to be easy.” He admits slowly, sighing as a smile blooms on your face - your hand flicking closed your textbook, the front cover matching his. 
“Super easy.” You admit, as you close your laptop, your headphones are still around your neck as you scoot your chair around the round table to look down at his notebook. “You’re a bit behind on the lessons?” You question, noting his notes are from a class over two weeks ago. 
“I get caught up with sports sometimes.” He can’t help the goosebumps that rise as your arm brushes over his - reaching to flick his textbook back a few chapters. 
“You do know that the student comes first in the name student athlete?” Your words are sharp but the smile on your face lessens the blow, his head nodding quickly again - and he’s sure there’s a dumb glazed look in his eyes. 
“I can help you out if you want.” Lukes never agreed to something quicker in his life - his hand shooting out to shake yours as he almost yells his name in introduction - he repeats your name under his breath a few times after you return his introduction not wanting to forget anything about you. 
Months passed quickly - the two of you meeting up at least once a week to go over the material you had learnt in class, making sure Luke was understanding everything - even going as far as to FaceTime when the team was on road trips. 
It was a Thursday afternoon - the two of you sitting on Luke's small bed in his dorm room, textbooks splayed on the bed though neither of you were paying much attention to them. Luke's attention was focused on the hockey game on his laptop, and your attention was focused on him. 
“Hey, Luke?” You call quietly, his eyes never leaving the screen as he hums in response - his body tensing every time one of the players in red get close to the goal. “When are you going to ask me on a date?” Luke doesn’t look at you, but you can tell his attention is no longer on the hockey game in front of him - the goal horn blaring as he sits frozen on his bed. 
“You’d want that?” He finally asks, his voice cracking as his head lifts to slowly close his computer, his hands gripping the cold metal as he waits for your response. 
“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want it.” Luke can feel his heart burst in his chest, your hand reaching out, a gentle finger on his chin turning his head towards you - “ask me.” You say firmly, his eyes locked with yours as you wait for his brain to reboot. 
“Would you like to go on a date with me?” He asks, the words falling out of his mouth before his brain can catch up. 
“I would love to go on a date with you, Luke.” 
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It’s funny how true the silly little saying your parents teach you as a kid can be so true. 
Time really does fly when you’re having fun. 
It also flies when your boyfriend gets called up into the professional hockey league and has to leave you behind. 
“Did you watch the game today?” Luke asks through your phone, his small face on your phone propped up beside you on your desk, his hair wet from his shower post game, a soft glow on his skin as he smiles at you when you’re not looking. 
“Of course.” You say, jotting something in your notebook before closing it softly, “I also watched when you almost got your back broken by being hit into the bench.” You huff, a frown on your face as you glance over your boyfriend. Luke's smile drops a little, as he sits up in his bed, watching as you wipe at your face roughly. 
“I just worry about you, Luke.” You say quietly, your eyes teary - Luke can feel his heart stop as he looks around his room in panic, for what no one knows. Luke feels his chest tighten as you let a small sniffle escape before wiping at your face again. 
“When are you going to ask me to be with you?” Luke never knows what to do when you ask questions like this - his response typically falling under a freeze response, his brain moving slower than normal when you catch him by surprise. 
“You’d want that?” He asks, the deja vu settling in his bones as he adds, “What about school?” 
“I’m doing a degree in business management, Luke - I can do that online if I wanted to.”  Luke feels like he’s going to have long term effects if you keep making his heart stop and start like this - the deja vu hitting again as you add, “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want it.” 
Luke feels like he’s going to explode as he yanks his laptop from where it is charging, looking up flights and hotels as quickly as possible.��
Luke doesn’t know a lot about many things. 
But he knows he would pay whatever he had to, to have you here with him - to be able to entwine his two favorite things in his life together. 
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The last six months have been a crash course in ice hockey - after the play off season had ended with an unfortunate loss Luke had dragged you to Michigan for the summer, wasting no time in introducing you to his whole family and everyone around who would listen. 
His two older brothers had put in the work to sit you down every night after dinner. A game from the previous season loaded onto the T.V a notebook in your lap as Luke slipped onto the couch behind you - his hand fiddling with whatever they could latch onto. 
“Okay so what is it called if one player insults another player?” Jack quizzes, the video paused on his captain's mouth open mid yell. 
“Chirping?” You say Jack giving a strong nod and a smile, resuming the video. 
“And what do we do when someone chirps us?” Jack asks, his smile mischievous as he waits for you to respond. 
“Chirp back?” You assume, Jack clapping his hands together in joy as Luke shakes his head behind you - leaning forwards to pull your short hair out of its bun. 
“No, we ignore it.” Luke corrects, his fingers gentle on your scalp as he detangles the knots left in your hair from the day on the boat. 
“That’s not fun, Lukey.” Jack huffs, looking over to his older brother for back up, Quinn just throwing his hands up with a shrug. 
“I think ignoring it is a better answer.” Quinn says softly, his attention solely on his phone. 
“Alright let’s watch something else - I think she knows everything she can.” Luke says pulling the remote from Jack's hand as he exits off the hockey game, pulling up Netflix to scroll through. His arm banded around your waist as he pulls you to lie back against him, a blanket thrown over the two of you as his brother argues over what to watch. 
“The post is blowing up, Luke.” You say quietly, showing him the notifications on your phone - Luke had posted an instagram story early, undeniably hard launching the relationship into the public - both of you had expected some attention but this had been more than anything you would imagine. 
“It’ll settle down eventually - you’re lucky Jack hasn’t posted anything, that would probably make your phone crash.” You let out a small chuckle, leaning into Luke further as you scroll through your notifications trying to clear your inbox as much as possible. 
“Hold up, who’s that?” Luke asks as you stop scrolling through your inbox, clicking on the message he pointed at. “Matt Rempe? Why does that sound so familiar?” Luke questions as you click on his profile scrolling through the photos in confusion. 
“You mean the giant kid who was just signed to the rangers?” Jack asks, his attention momentarily leaving the movie trailer Quinn was showing on his phone to respond to Luke. 
“How do you know that?” Luke asks, his brother just shrugging in response. “What did he say?” Luke asks as you swipe back to the message reading over the words with a frown. 
“Hey, how’s heaven handling things now that you’ve left?” You read aloud, Quinn letting out a loud snort and Jack's mouth falling open in surprise. “Oh dear god, that’s bad.” You sigh, moving to delete the message before Luke’s hand stops you, his hand swiping the phone from your hand as his fingers tap on the screen. 
“Luke, what are you doing?” You hiss, watching as he types out a message before deleting it and starting again “What happened to ignoring it?” 
“This is off the ice - you don’t hit on other players' girlfriends.”  Luke types again before hitting send on the one sentence message. 
‘She has a boyfriend.’ You roll your eyes before snatching your phone back, the device dinging as you place it back in your lap. Luke looks at you expectantly as you pick up your phone again showing him the response. 
‘We’ll see about that.’ 
“He’s messing with you Luke, just leave it.” You say, blocking the players profile before turning off your phone and tucking it under the blanket before he can type out more messages to his fellow rookie player. 
The message echoes around Lukes head for the rest of the night - the man shocked by his fellow players' audacity. 
Luke doesn’t know a lot about many things. 
But he knows about hockey - and you don’t go after another player's girlfriend. 
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The season started off tense - with most of New Jersey’s star players out with injuries the team was scraping by on wins - only just managing to pull ahead towards the end of each game. 
The most anticipated game of the season slowly sneaking up behind every one - the New Jersey Devils against the New York Rangers - normally a big rivalry but this year everything seemed more tense - especially with the rising enforcer of the New York Rangers making his presence and dislike for the New Jersey Devils team known. 
“Everything will be fine.” You reassure Luke for the hundredth time, squeezing his hand once more before releasing it to fall back to his side, his face falling as he stares down at his empty palm. “I’ll meet you in the locker room after you take the arrival photos.” You say softly, before leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek, smoothing out his unruly curls before giving him one last smile. 
He watches as you walk away, greeting some of the staff you pass as you move to where the other family members were gathering to wish their player good luck before the game. You lean against the wall as you scroll absentmindedly on your phone, occasionally adding something to the conversation going on around you, each of the wags splitting off towards their players as they make their way to the locker room. 
“Excuse me?” A deep voice says from behind you, a large hand tapping on your shoulder. You turn slowly your head lifting as you glance up at the abnormally large man, his face immediately flagging recognition in your memory. “Are you a keyboard?” He asks quickly - your brows pulling together as you frown. 
“What?” You respond. 
“Are you a keyboard?” He tries again, waiting for a few moments before adding, “because I think you’re just my type.” You can’t help the scoff that comes out of you, physically cringing at the pick up line. 
“Wait, I have more.” He exclaims quickly, a soft smile on your face as you shake your head. 
“I’m aware - I’m pretty sure heaven is fairing pretty well without me.”  Your retort seems to strike something in the man's memory, his mouth falling open in surprise before a slow grin grows back in its place. “You’ve really lived up to your name as hockey’s new menace.” You add, glancing over your shoulder to see Luke making his way up to the locker room. 
“Ah so you’ve been watching me?” Matt’s confidence in himself is jarring, your frown deepening as you shake your head. 
“Unfortunately for me, you seem to pop up in a lot of conversations about my boyfriend.” You say quietly, “Maybe it was due to your blatant disrespect for your fellow rookie players in this league.” Matt hesitates for a second, his eyes grazing over your face for any sign that you were joking. 
“You’re not my type, and frankly I was hoping you got the message when I blocked you, but clearly your thick head isn’t good for anything other than fighting.” You add, and you know you shouldn’t be adding fuel to the fire but you just can’t help it. 
“Everything okay over here?” Luke's voice is like dousing fire with water, his hand smoothing over your back to sit against your hip as he slides up beside you.
“You should keep your girl on a tighter leash.” Matt speaks before you can reassure your boyfriend, “Seems like she’d jump ship to anyone offering her a good time.” You can feel Luke tense beside you, a few of his team mates pausing in their movement, watching their rookie player glare up at the intruder. 
While Luke has always been considered in the group of larger hockey players - Matt was on a whole other level. 
“What did you just say about her?” 
“You heard what I said - your girlfriend is a whore.” You flinch at the words, your arm looping around Luke’s back to grab hold of his suit jacket hoping he was smart enough not to engage with the larger man. 
“What are you gonna do about it?” Matt continues his taunting, your gaze flicking over your shoulder hoping to catch the attention of another person. 
Luke takes in a deep breath, rolling his eyes before stepping away from you a little, his hands moving you behind him slightly as he moves toe to toe with the fighter. “Look, back the fuck off dude. She said she wasn't interested and I’m not interested in paying a fine for bothering with someone like you.” 
You let out a sigh of relief as one of the older players steps up besides you, pulling you a step further away from the pair, his own glare set on the two boys. 
“This can be dealt with on the ice.” Kurtis says roughly, tugging on Luke’s arm to break contact, the rookie quickly following the wordless instructions of his veteran teammate. “Forget what you said about her…” Kurtis pauses, waiting for Luke to object before adding, “Why don’t you fight someone your own size?” You can see the anger rolling off the two rookies as they finally nod at each other in understanding, Matt glaring at the three of you before turning towards the away team locker room. 
“Leave him for me, Kid.” Kurtis says quickly as Luke turns towards him, adding “You’re not a fighter, Luke. We need you to be able to play.” Luke nods hesitantly, the two of you watching as Kurtis kisses his wife quickly before moving into the locker room, your gaze turning up to your boyfriend. 
“He’s right, you know.” You say. 
“I know.” Luke agrees, leaning down to give you a chaste kiss on your cheek before following after his team mate. 
“Play safe.” The words falter as Kurtis’s wife thread her arm through yours - reassuring you everything will be okay. 
“Kurtis will sort that kid out.” She says quickly, the cheeky gleam in her eyes.
The pre game warm ups move quickly - both teams seemingly tense on the ice, neither making much contact with each other, Luke goes through his normal motions, his body seeming no looser than before as he exits the ice to walk back into the locker room. 
“Why do I have a feeling this is going to be bad?” You ask the wives and girlfriends besides you - all of them agreeing with your gut feeling, all of you tense in your seats as you watch the teams take the ice again - a strange mix of players starting for New Jersey - Luke steaming from the bench as he watching the referee talk to the players at center ice. 
It’s not clear who starts it from where you’re sitting - but as soon as the puck hits the ice, chaos breaks out - each of the ten players on the ice matching up a five on five brawl sprawling across the ice. Most of the fights end quickly, each player slowly making their way to the penalty box as they get pulled apart by the officials, but one match up continues. 
Matt and Kurtis go head to head for over five minutes - both teams cheering them on the pounding of sticks on the boards echoing through the arena. Finally the two get pulled apart and to everyone's joy Kurtis comes away relatively unharmed - the other team's rookie seeming to have gotten the worst of the hits in the fight. 
You watch Luke yell something across the ice as Matt is dragged from the ice the two of them yelling at each other back and forth until Luke’s captain pats his shoulder gently, motioning for him to calm down.  
The game continues tensely - the ejected players cleaning themselves up before joining your group in the family area, Kurtis patting your shoulder gently as you thank him for stepping in. 
“The kid needing a proper welcome to the NHL - I’m glad I was the one to give it to him.” Kurtis says quietly, before adding, “Luke’s pretty fired up, try to get him home in one piece.” 
The game finishes with a loss for the Devils, everyone disappointed but unable to wipe the smiles off their faces as they reminisce on the earlier fight - everyone wanting to share their point of view. Luke pushes his way out of the locker room, his face set in a deep frown as he reaches his hand out for yours, his shoulder dropping a little as you squeeze your hand in his. 
“You need to relax and try not to crash on the way home.” You comment as you both get into the car. Luke lets out a long groan before flopping against the driver's seat.  
“I feel like such a wimp.” Luke’s words surprise you, your boyfriend had never had much interest in fighting before definitely being a lover and not a fighter. 
“Why?” 
“Because I let another player fight my battle.” You let out a snort of a laugh. 
“That’s his job, Luke.” Your boyfriend flicks his faze over to you, “He’s supposed to give and take the hits to keep the best players on the ice, I think Kurtis had more fun than anyone else that player today.” You continue, reaching over to pull on one of the curls sitting on his forehead. 
“It’s not a bad thing to know when to fight and when you’re outmatched - Matt is a fighter and knows what he’s doing and you’d be stupid to think you could take him on.” Your words are harsh, just like they were when you had first met - but the blow is softened as you smile softly as the man sitting next to you. 
“I’m proud of you for choosing the high road - he’s a meat head hockey player who’s got more brawn than skill - but you have talent and it would’ve been a shame to see you waste it all for one stupid fight.” Luke nods slowly at your words, turning his head to press a kiss against your palm before turning back to the front of the car. 
“Okay, I think it’s safe to drive now.” He jokes, his posture far more relaxed than it was before. 
Luke doesn’t know a lot about many things.��
But he knows that he would do anything for you. Even get in a stupid fight.
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gojoest · 2 days
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the one with the role play — gojo satoru
— your husband breaking character during role play after you mention the one thing you shouldn’t have
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suggestive, MDNI, established relationship (you’re married), written with f! reader in mind but think i kept it pretty gn, alcohol (nobody gets drunk, just a super quick mention of it as a choice of drink at the bar), strangers at the bar role play (or a failed attempt tbh), based on this talk post of mine, wc: 1.3k
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“hey, love”, satoru broke the silence while the two of you were folding the laundry one afternoon. (yes, the strongest sorcerer always helps his wife with chores)
“say, love”, you quickly responded, without looking at him.
“you know, i was thinking — we’ve never tried role play”
“that’s what folding clothes made you think of?”, glancing at him you chuckled, “interesting”, raising an eyebrow teasingly.
“we’ve done pretty much everything but that. you’re not curious?”
now was not the time to tell him that you had done this before, with your ex, and that it was fun. no need to remind him that you had other partners before him and make him lose sleep for days to come, like that one time when he found your diary from high school in the attic and read about all the crushes and boyfriends you had. it took weeks and a lot of coddling on your part (you even had to start a satoru only diary and write his name into little hearts) for him to get over it. so you figured you’d keep this little detail to yourself and take it to the grave. or it would be your husband taken to the grave due to lethal jealousy steaming from the fact that another man had laid his hands on you in the past.
“s-sure”, you stuttered, thinking back to that excruciating memory, then cleared your throat before continuing — “yea, we can do that, why not”
“good then”, he tossed the shirt in his hands aside and stepped closer to you. circling his arms around your waist from behind — one hand eventually resting over your chest while the other stopping at your navel and gently rubbing it — he possessively pressed you against his chest and hummed contently.
“someone’s very excited about this, huh?”, you placed your hand over his and tilted your head back to peek at him.
“oh? can you tell?”, he grinned, playfully pushing his hips against you.
“that giant thing in your pants poking me from behind is giving you away, i’m afraid”
“it’s your fault though”, his head craned down so his lips could reach your forehead and trail soft kisses down to the tip of your nose.
standing on your tip toes you raised your hands to cup his cheeks and pecked him on the lips. “of course, it’s my fault that you’re getting all hot and bothered in the middle of the day like some pervert”
“i always get hot and bothered thinking about you”, he pecked you back, then slowly turned you around (concerned that you might hurt your neck if you kept that position up).
“any ideas?”, you asked.
“8pm, the bar around the corner”
“we’re to enact the classic strangers meeting at the bar, huh? okay. anything else?”
“nope, let’s improvise”
[8:13pm, at the bar]
sitting alone on the stool at the bar counter, you kept playing with your now half empty martini glass, drawing circles with it on the surface. you felt a bit weird sitting here pretending to be single and ready to mingle. but oh well.
he was late. you took another sip of your drink and grabbed your phone to check the time again.
“next one’s on me”, a painfully familiar voice approached you from behind. “if you would allow me, that is”
he was late on purpose, you figured. waiting for you to almost finish your drink so he could easily start a conversation by using such a lame but still quite effective line.
“i don’t normally accept drinks from strangers”, you gazed at him, “but an exception every now and then wouldn’t hurt, i assume”
a puckish smile curved on his lips. “may i?”, taking his sunglasses off, he asked for your permission to sit next to you.
“sure”
you were quite impressed at how seriously he was actually taking this, not breaking character even for a second so far. he had made up a brand new persona of himself, introducing himself as “sato kouya” — the ceo of a leading pharmaceutical company, temporarily living in tokyo for the purpose of a big business project.
“enough about me though”, eyes focused on you, he leaned his elbow on the bar counter and placed his chin on his palm. “tell me about yourself — what’s a beauty like you doing alone?”
you giggled (he was just so cute right now). “you’re lucky that i am alone — if we had met a week earlier, i would’ve still been married”
his expression froze at your words. the smile from a few seconds ago was now bleeding into a confused, almost creepy, look on his face — his lips still stretched into a grin while his eyes told a different story.
“hmmm… how so?”, he spoke in a monotone, his grin slowly fading away.
it would be a lie to say his weird reaction didn’t concern you at all but you decided to brush it off, and continued. “you see, i just got officially divorced. my ex husband and i tried out best to keep the marriage going for as long as we could but we were simply not meant to be”, you sighed. “this was the best for both of us”
“no way”, satoru whined. “no fucking way”
“umm… excuse me?”, you tilted your head in confusion.
“i don’t like this”, his face giving you a dejected grimace — brows knitted, lips pursed into a pout and eyes filled with a mix of panic and sorrow taking over the blue in them and turning it into a darker shade. “divorced? not meant to be? don’t even joke about this”, he almost cried out. the thought alone rubbed him the wrong way, tugged at his heartstrings so intensely that it forced him out of character right then and there, putting an end to your little role play escapade (rip sato kouya, you will be missed).
“satoru”, you caressed his hand, “baby. love of my life. this is just an act, please get it together”
“oh”, he gasped in utter shock after his focus fell on your hand and he noticed you were not wearing your ring. “you even took your ring off? why would you do that?”
great, this was getting worse now.
“because of the role play”, you spoke each word slowly, stressing on the last two very carefully.
“but i’m still wearing mine”, he protested, pointing at his ring, “see? you could’ve still acted fine with your ring on and without bringing up divorce and not meant to be’s”, he cried again, a hangdog look splattered on his face.
“i didn’t want to play the cheating wife, that’s why i took it o—“, you were cut off by another dramatic reaction.
“cheating? CHEATING? you considered this scenario?”, his voice was hitting desperate notes at this point. you couldn’t believe he had lost all reason over a play pretend.
you pinched the bridge of your nose before you spoke, “okay, that’s enough. you’re being ridiculous right now. i’m going home”
he followed after you like a kicked puppy, whining all the way home. but you had to admit — part of you really loved the fact that he went completely out of his mind over something so silly, that he didn’t know what to do with himself just thinking about you possibly leaving him even in a made-up scenario, that you held so much power over him…
extra:
[later that night, in bed]
done reading for the night and ready to sleep, you placed your book on the nightstand and looked over at your husband sitting with his arms crossed next to you in bed.
“still not over it?”, you nestled your head on his chest.
“no. hurts like hell just thinking about it”, he mumbled.
“come on, stop pouting”, you pinched his cheek, “you can’t go to sleep with a grumpy face”
“yea?”, he glanced down at you, “sit on it then — it’s the only way to wipe that pout off of it”
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seelestia · 2 days
Text
⟡ within your waking thoughts (there i’ll be).
⎯ what do they do when they miss you? how do they cope with yearning when you're away? { y for yearning ノ ordered by @floraldresvi! (sorry for the ping!) }
RESERVED FOR! ノ characters. aventurine, sunday, dr. ratio ft. gn!reader. { 1.3k words }
FLAVOR! ノ genre. fluff, slight angst (my apology to sunday lovers yet again), established relationship.
TOPPINGS! ノ tags. aventurine has his tech savvy moment, pre-2.2 sunday (heavy references but no spoilers), ratio has two phones (king of separating work & personal life !!!).
BAKER’S NOTE! ノ thoughts. a repost! bcs tumblr didn't like it the first time. hopefully, this one will be here to stay. thank u to vivi for requesting this ‹3
© seelestia on tumblr, may 2024. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.
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in your absence, aventurine welcomes little thoughts of you that float around his mind with open arms - and the way he indulges them is by simply texting you. effective and efficient, there is a reason why the cosmos calls it the second most used means for long distance communication. what about the first? well, he would've opted for calling you with his earpiece if only his line of work doesn't require 90% of its usage time.
let's just say the idea of fellow stonehearts interrupting his conversation with you ruins the fun. besides, he has deft fingers; coin tricks aren't the only thing in his book, you know, typing a few sentences in one go is no problem at all.
but maybe, he is using that too much to his advantage . . . considering the “25+” staring back at you from your notifications every few hours or so. aventurine is truly, irrevocably relentless.
anything even remotely in your favorite color found within his vicinity? new message: Saw something that reminded me of you, you must really like crossing my mind.
an item he thinks would fit you well? new message: I got you a gift. Does it suit your fancy? [1 attachment]
reminded of how cruel fate is to separate you two for so long? new message: Haven't seen your face in a while. Fifteen hours are a total too cruel, don't you agree?
have faith that you will never grasp the true meaning of boredom when you’re apart from him. luck follows a man like aventurine, so do interesting events - remember how he won a vacation to a resort with one chip? he revels in telling you stories of his encounters while you're away. it is as if thrill revolves around him constantly. . . one wonders just how he fares living on the edge of it all.
(you, for one, are aware of his ways. he has allowed you to wander far enough behind his masquerade, after all.)
of course, texts on an illuminated screen can barely compare to seeing you in person. he prefers having you in his arms instead - but he'll live. solitude is an old friend of his, albeit distant and cold, aventurine can deal with its company every once in a while. at the end of the day, he knows you’ll be there when he comes home.
though, it's such a shame he cannot see your face when you're apart. the curve of your lips as you smile, the twinkle in your eyes with his reflection in them, and. . . ah, seems like he is making this harder for himself. maybe, he should consider buying that HD holographic communicative device on the market? his ears caught wind of some P45 officers at pier point whispering about it before.
it'll cost a large sum of credits but hey, he thinks it'll be worth it. for you? anything is possible.
(...him? clingy? well, guilty as charged.)
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sunday’s self-discipline is not something to be underestimated. halovians are a species known for their enchanting voices, yet he feels as if he cannot spare any for even his inner thoughts. what an irony. his longing for your presence is persistent, tumbling at the edge of his tongue - but he is equally as, if not more, stubborn and so he swallows this yearning down instantly.
you are not confined to the dreamscape like he is, as self-imposed as that may be. sunday is aware of that, hence his first instinct is to keep quiet. the curse of sealing his lips till forevermore; watching you leave through the grand doors, letting his gaze fall to where your shadow used to be, savoring the last of your remaining fragrance from when you last bade him goodbye - all without a word.
(don't go, he wished he could say.)
is it a bad habit? “your voice shouldn't be used just to utter words that others want to hear,” you reminded him once. “it's also for you. it's yours.”
but even then, your words are akin to a faint whisper; muffled by the thoughts that plague his mind like a mist. he can't help how they fog up his reflection in the mirror, leaving remnants of something acrid that wafts in the air. something like doubts, sunday would know because he has dwelled in it for as long as he remembers.
you are outside, fluttering your wings in the sky and enjoying what it has to offer. does he have any rights to disturb you? perhaps, in his eyes, sunday views himself as a string tied around your talon, trailing all the way from the heavens where you soar to the humble ground where he resides. each time your absence compels him to reach out, it is as if he’s tugging on that string and dragging you lower from the height you truly relish in, from the height you deserve to be at.
(sunday believes that you belong to the sky, unlike him.)
so here, he shall stay and here, he shall wait until you return. sunday’s heart begins to grow cold - but the farewell kiss you've left on the apple of his cheek hasn't faded. its warmth remains, even when he brushes his freezing hand against it, it remains.
you remain.
(and that is enough for him.)
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dr. ratio is a man with a packed schedule, so it's safe to say he keeps himself occupied particularly well. tasks at the intelligentsia guild are nothing short of demanding, after all. there are researchers asking for his input left and right, although some tremble while speaking to him even when he hasn't even uttered a word yet. ignoring that, he also aids in projects that require his expertise. last but not least, his students and classes which he takes very seriously.
(but be careful with how you phrase it — the doctor doesn't view them as distractions, no, he sees them as his responsibilities — saying the former might offend him.)
as you can see, he is perfectly capable of spending time away from you. . . .or at least, until it's time for a break and a part of that perfection chips off.
his office is quite tranquil, free from outside noise, just the way he likes. this place bears a similar purpose as his headgear, to let him focus in silence without disturbance - but he hasn't expected that exact silence to be this deafening. hah, how absurd! in what realm of possibility could silence ever be associated with deafening as an adjective? he supposes it could be a case of tinnitus. . . but veritas knows that isn't the case.
something's missing and it is, much to his dismay, you.
veritas has his standards. he prefers things to be set at a specific level - and this level of silence, one marred further by your lack of presence, is too low for him. he's getting too used to seeing you barge into his office with neatly packed sandwiches in your hands, a revelation he'd rather keep to himself.
veritas reaches for his personal phone, his work one left neglected at the far end of the desk. he considers making a call to you but the clock is ticking. tick tock tick tock, as if to hang the fact that his break is reaching its end over his head.
utilizing whatever time he has left, his finger gives the gallery app a tap. various pictures pop up on the screen; selfies of you with silly expressions, candid shots of veritas himself and some photos of random objects like your matching mugs. all of these were taken by you, of course. seriously, is this his phone or is it yours?
who knows at this point? he nearly lets out a snort, but that smile on his face is fooling no one. the doctor continues scrolling through his gallery, utterly content with just this until he gets home. to you.
(yes, yes, this still counts as keeping himself occupied. thank you for your concern.)
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— thank you for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated.
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lunargrapejuice · 2 days
Text
for your own good
diluc ragnvindr x afab!reader | 2.8k+ words
warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, reader is wearing a dress but no pronouns are mentioned, not necessarily brat!reader but you get a lil lippy hehe, dom!diluc, spanking as a form of punishment, oral, cum eating, praise kink, y'all are sickly in love as always, please let me know if i missed anything!
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the sound of boot steps fill the near silent space of the parlor, heavy steps following much lighter ones through the large mahogany doors, up the stairs and across the second floor into the master bedroom. the maids and staff only emerge from the quiet corners they had slipped into after such a tense entrance when they hear the click of the bedroom door and resume their tasks, avoiding that corner of the manor.
diluc flips the lock behind him, scarlet eyes following your every step as you storm towards the  connecting master bathroom in an attempt to put more distance between you but your feet stop quickly at the challenging call of your name that tells you this conversation is not over, even if you run away from it.
it's the first thing that’s been said since you stormed off towards home and you had hoped that the walk back to the manor would cool you both off but you were still burning with frustration and in your wake the flying embers of your emotions caught on your beloved and fueled his own frustration, his worry.
because that’s really all that had started this, worry for your safety. you would argue that you had it completely under control and aren’t hurt in the slightest aside from maybe your feelings but right now you couldn’t articulate anything aside from the exasperated thoughts that you couldn’t stop from spilling past your lips when you whip around to face diluc who now stands near the edge of bed. 
his brows as drawn close, the soft pinkness of his lips in a thin line and there’s an undeniable lick of flame behind the dark pupils of his eyes that seems to deepen into a crimson fire at your words.
“don’t you think it’s a bit hypocritical of you to chastise me for putting myself in danger when you do it yourself on a nightly basis?!” you let out a strained laugh, like you can’t actually believe you’re having this conversation. you aren’t even hurt for barbatos sake. “this is ridiculous,” you mutter under your breath but before he can add anything himself, you decide you are finished with this conversation, whether he likes it or not, and end it with a snappy, “perhaps it's you that should be getting a good lecture right now diluc.”
you’re acutely aware of the shift in atmosphere throughout the entire room, how quickly it goes from overly warm in the evening sun spilling through open curtains and the natural heat of diluc to a eerie neutral calmness that's almost painful to breath in but beneath it you can feel the lingering sparks waiting to burst again. though their unusual muted crackling in the silence between you makes you wonder what exactly they would set ablaze.
“this isn’t about me,” his voice is deep, firm and hot.
you hear the ember at your feet pop and send your own gust of air over them, letting them catch fire.
“please, it very clearly is. you’re the one -”
diluc says your name again, in a way you’ve never heard before, serious and penetrating and at the impact of it to your core, you think perhaps it’s you that’s on fire. “that’s enough.” 
you want to protest, say whatever's on your tongue and mind but there isn’t a single word that leaves your mouth when your lips part. your tongue feels heavy, your lungs barely able to breathe in air and when your lip begins to tremble, you take it between your teeth. 
“come here.”
like a statue, you stand motionless near the bathroom door. your heart races, your cunt clenching around nothing as you watch diluc peel off his gloves without breaking your locked gazes. he pulls at each finger tip, starting with his pinky, until the leather is loose enough to slip off easily and then does the same on the other hand. one glove placed neatly on top of the other, he sets them on the edge of the bed.
when you don’t move, don’t say anything or protest, he closes the distance between you, every heavy boot step making your heart skip a beat and when he’s standing in front of you, his broad shoulders and black coat with golden tassels blocking out the setting sun, all you can do is stare up at his beautiful features and fall into the inferno behind his eyes.
gently, as if you were made of thin glass that had yet to cool, he takes your face into his hands, his palms cradling your chin, calloused thumbs brushing along your cheeks. the mix of tender and intense, his heat and scent overtaking your every sense, makes you beyond dizzy.
“i know i am a stubborn man but my love,” he voice is strained and his expression morphs into something almost painful. he holds you a bit tighter and you stand on your toes to reach him. “i cannot express enough how important your safety, your wellbeing, is.” he takes in a deep breath. “you are everything and without you.. ” he doesn’t let himself say the words. he can’t. he won’t. instead he kisses you deeply, his lips soft and so full of love you feel your knees threatening to give way within an instant. 
and you swear they really might when diluc pulls away all too quickly and his hands leave your face. you want to cry at the loss of his touch but only a split moment passes before he has your hand in his and is guiding you towards the bed without needing to tug to have you follow.
you can hear your deep breathing in the palpable silence, the groan of the bed frame against the hardwood floors when diluc sits at the edge of your side of the bed, the delicate sway of your dress as you press your thighs together in the moment he stares up at you with an unreadable expression on his face before the quiet is broken by his captivating voice. 
“please understand how serious this is to me.”
dilucs hands are gentle as they pull you over to him and all you can do is follow their silent command that helps you rest over his thick thighs, your stomach pressed against the muscles there. your hands desperately cling to the sheets near your head that can’t seem to form one coherent thought other than you’re certain that you’ve made diluc mad and are about to be punished for it. how fucking badly you need the him. how shamefully turned on you are.
he uses the same softness as he lifts up your dress, letting the tips of his fingers graze along the supple skin of your thighs the higher he lifts it until your bum is exposed to the hot air of the room.
you can hear the way he sucks in breath seeing you aren’t wearing any panties under your dress, though this wasn’t exactly what you had in mind when you decided to go without them this morning. it wouldn’t be enough to stop him.
“this is for your own good darling.” his thick voice, a mix of burning desire and commanding seriousness, makes your heart stop completely but you hardly have time to register it before a large hand comes down and smacks your ass with more strength than you were expecting, the sting sending shots of electricity through your entire body and sets your heart to a wicked drumming beat. 
you whimper at the mix of pain and pleasure, the emptiness of your pussy and are unable to stop the way your body trembles and arches. your face burns when you come down for the jolt it sent through you and though you can feel his eyes on you, you can’t meet his gaze.
the cool air on your skin when he removes his hands makes your body break out into goosebumps. 
“i need you.” another smack fills the air, makes your body jump and you try to swallow the filthy and pathetic noises threatening to escape past your lips. his palm soothes over your skin that tingles with the aftershock, warm and comforting. a mix of soft and marred skin caressing something precious, with the utmost care. “need you safe and sound in my arms. i can’t lose you.”
his voice trembles with emotion. you want to sooth him, kiss him, hold him close but you can’t move, can’t speak, can hardly breathe. the heat of his palms leaves your skin and can hear him bringing it down against your ass again.
“‘luc!” you cry out, chasing after his touch. your mind is so fuzzy, your body burning and melting in the heat coursing through your body that’s being fueled by the hand once again caressing you so lovingly over the pleasurable ache.
“do you understand love?” it’s not condescending or meant with any rudeness. there’s only love and worry for you, his very heart and soul, his light in darkness that he thought he was shackled to, that he could never be without again. please understand the gravity you hold on him. that he could not bear to lose you, no matter how small the risk. “i need you to tell me that you understand, that you will put your safety first. please.” 
you don’t know why you hesitate even when he’s pleading with you. maybe because you want more. more of his touch, more of his words and the fire that's slowly consuming you both. would your lungs even work?
smack!!
“ah!”
he says your name, his tone is dripping with grave urgency.  
“i - i understand ‘luc,” you say breathlessly, trying to swallow the traces of need and let him know you mean it honestly. “i’m sorry..”
the weight of his chest against your back, the rub of his hand over the still stinging hand print you can feel on your ass, is comforting, soothing and the feeling of his lips near your ear has you falling limp against his thighs and the bed.
diluc sighs, letting go of the tension that had built in his chest from the moment he saw you in danger and that turned into something else entirely when he was overtaken with the need to show you how important this is, how important you are, when you so easily brushed off your own safety. “all that matters is that you’re okay.”
“i am,” you assure him, bringing your hand up to his face and relishing in him leaning into your touch, the heat of his breath behind your ear. “i’ll always come back to you. always.”
“as will i, my love,” he promises and the words echo in your ears when you feel his hand move, long and scarred fingers gliding between your legs, barely needing one touch to be soaked in your essence. 
diluc groans at how wet you are, how easily your body bows to allow him to part your folds down the length of your slit and press against your swollen clit, skilled fingers rubbing in circles with the perfect pressure that has you moaning into the sheets.
you can feel how hard he is, how hard he’s been with his impressive length under your tummy and when he sinks two fingers into you so easily, thanks to how dripping and needy you are, his hips instinctively lift and buck to feel more of you. any part of you he could, just to feel more of you.
but diluc doesn’t focus or care about his own pleasure. not that it was unusual for him, your pleasure is always his own but right now, he only wishes to make you feel good after causing you pain, even if he thought it necessary and your body told him of how much you enjoyed it.
in his seemingly infinite strength, he moves you effortlessly into a comfortable position over the edge of bed, your legs dangling over the edge but your toes don’t meet the ground with how high up the bed is. diluc is sure to gather your dress and secure it around your hips so it doesn’t get ruined. you hear the thump on the hardwood as he takes a knee behind you and at the large hands that spread your folds for him to devour you, with both his hungry eyes and mouth, you bury your face in the pillow he’d moved for you to rest your head on.
pressing a thumb against your clit, you feel his nearly panting breath on the still warm skin he had spanked, the faint touch of his lips making you murmur his name is a sweet plea. the kiss he places there is considerate, soft, but the lower his lips travel, the more impure they become. 
at the first taste of you, you can feel more than hear diluc groaning in addicting pleasure, as if you were the sweetest, most divine thing he had ever touched or tasted. it was so much more to him, more than he could put into words, especially so when he is between your legs, savoring every heaven sent drop of you and the way his hot mouth made you wither and writhe.
the tip of his tongue replaces his fingers at your clit, rolling over the sensitive bud before taking it before his mouth and suckling with fervor. powerful hands sink into the flesh of your hips and pull you back into him, the tip of his nose nudging against your entrance, wild ringlets of vermillion hair tickling your thighs, a mix of saliva and slick coating the lower part of his face.
“oh diluc!” you cry out loudly at a partially hard suck. even into the pillow it seems loud in the room but you can’t hold it back with the white hot pleasure coursing through you at how he devours you like a man starved and who may never eat again.
with his cock twitching in his tight pants, sticky pre wetting his underwear, diluc pulls away from your clit and licks a thick stripe up to your entrance, beginning to fuck you on his tongue by pushing and pulling your hips while pulling away and meeting you half way just to delve that much deeper into you until you worry he hasn’t had a breath in so long.
when he does move away, the loss of his tongue leaves you unbelievably empty but when two thick fingers fill you only seconds later, curling into that perfect spot inside your velvety walls, you barely have a chance to protest or catch your breath. all you can do is repeat his name and arch your back so he can reach at a better angle.
you feel the press of wet lips against your bum, right over where he had spanked you, the unevenness of his breath matching the thrusting of his fingers into your little hole. “did so good for me love. so good. fuck.. i love you darling - i love you more than i know how to put into words.” 
he can feel you clenching around his fingers at the praise and confession of his feelings, so very close and it only makes his movements more precise, overwhelming and burning hot. he needs to feel you coming undone just as badly as you feel yourself breaking and the reminder of his hand meeting your skin when it still tingles under his kisses drives you over the edge with deep arch of your back and the sweet call of his name from your lips.
never wanting a bit of you to go unloved, not taken in by him, his mouth comes back to your cunt, drinking down every drop of you that leaks from the movement of his fingers and down to your clit and after ensuring you’ve rode out every second of your orgasm, he pulls them out of slowly, licking his fingers clean before standing and handling your dress, pulling it down from where it now pooled closer to your chest and middle back, first covering your bum and glistening cunt.
diluc takes such care to lift and cradle your limp body in his arms, fixing your dress in the front as he kisses the top of your head and takes a deep breath in hopes you’ll try to match it and catch your own that still has yet to settle. you do and as you let out a steaming breath, you sink into his embrace.
settling his back on the headboard, he keeps you pressed as close to him as possible, like he needs to hold you close, feel you breathing and warm and clinging to him. there's an unmistakable hardness pressing against your spent body but your beloved doesn’t pay any mind or attempt to do something about it. perfectly content holding you like this and placing kisses to the top of your head.
with the steady beat of his heart in your ears, you feel your own beating in sync the more you come down from your high and murmur into his chest. “i love you too ‘luc, so much.”
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moonstruckme · 2 days
Note
Hii! I love your fics so much and I was wonder if you could do a emt marauders fix where the reader gets a concussion? I just got another one and it’s really taken a toll on me. (Again, I love your work SO MUCH!! It’s so comforting!!)
Hi my sweetheart! I'm so sorry, I swear I highlighted emt marauders when I was writing this request but somehow along the way I seemed to forget that it was supposed to be the au, I hope this is still alright (I'm very down to do another for emt specifically if you would like)! And I really hope you're doing okay!! Concussions are so rough, I hope your recovery is going well <3
cw: concussion
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words
Sirius wakes to shushing sounds from down the hall. Bright sunlight has snuck in through the cracks in the blinds, laying itself down in slats across the bed. He’s laying nearly sideways with no one else to shove him away, one of his feet dangling off the side of the mattress and his head on the opposite pillow. 
He gets up though his body doesn’t want to, following hushed voices into the living room. The curtains are drawn closed here, too, though it’s light enough for Sirius to make you both out clearly, you sitting on the couch and Remus with your hands in his, speaking to you in a hushed voice while slow tears dribble off your chin. 
“Hey.” Sirius’ voice betrays his lethargy, but you don’t seem to notice. You look up with shiny eyes as he steps into the room. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” 
The answer takes time to come to you. Sirius isn’t sure if you’re searching for the words or if your thoughts are just evading you as they have been since you got hurt, but his heart twinges when your brows bunch in concentration. 
Remus only looks at you steadily. He’s been the most patient with you; Sirius and James both have the urge to guess at the ends to your sentences when you get stuck, but Remus only waits, letting you parse it out in your own time. 
“I’m sad. Frustrated,” you decide, though you look more glum than angry. You sniff. “I want to be better already.” 
Sirius nods in both understanding and sympathy, going to sit behind you on the couch. He knows Remus isn’t the most tactile, but it kills him to see you with your shoulders shaking and no arms wrapped around them. He’s quick to remedy this.
“We were playing cards,” Remus explains in his quiet way (a way Sirius has been trying to mimic to accommodate your sound sensitivity, though it doesn’t come easily to him), “and she just got a bit upset when she didn’t remember whether aces were high or low.” 
Sirius tsks, nosing at your cheek. “That’s common enough, darling. It can go either way.” 
“That’s what I said,” Remus tells him. His thumbs carve twin paths up the sides of your palms. “It hardly matters, I’m happy to play with them high or low.” 
“I just wish I knew like usual,” you say, though you already seem to be calming. Your voice has taken on that distant quality again. It still sounds like you, just a tad dazed, like when you first wake up in the mornings. 
Sirius rubs up and down your shoulder, pressing his lips to the side of your chin. He can’t imagine it’s comfortable, feeling so unlike yourself. Worse to know it’s not changing soon. You hit your head a few days ago, and it’ll probably be some time until you feel completely normal again. 
Sirius has been told he can be dramatic, but when you’d fallen he honestly thought for a second that you were dead, you were so still. In the pandemonium of sirens and doctors and waiting rooms that had followed, James and Remus had each taken a bit of time to process things, get their emotions in order, but Sirius has never been able to cry in public. When they finally got to take you home, he’d gotten in the shower and cried so hard he thought he’d throw up. He’s honestly not sure if he’s ever been so terrified in his life. After you got into bed that night he’d hugged you so hard you’d called him James, and your boyfriends had all laughed before they realized you weren’t joking. 
He and Remus hold you in silence for some time. None of you seem to mind. Sirius is still too sleepy to get bored, you’re presumably too concussed, and Remus is still Remus. He can look at the two of you all day and never need a diversion. 
The room seems to come alive when James gets home, not only because of his sparkling personality but also because he lets in a bunch of sunlight and a cacophony of street noise with him. 
“Hello, my loves,” he says, adjusting his volume halfway through the sentence. He shuts the door behind him with care, dropping his rugby bag onto the floor with far less. “How are we doing?” 
“I’m doing horrible,” Sirius says, though it’s obvious he was really only asking about you. “I haven’t had anything to eat yet today.” 
“You have just woken up,” Remus points out with a droll look, but James indulges him. 
He sets a big hand on Sirius’ head and kisses between his own fingers. He smells like dirt and sweat, gross on anyone else but hot when it’s him. James gives you the same treatment next, palm stroking down the back of your head protectively. 
“You alright, lovie?” he murmurs. 
You hum. “Why?” 
“Nothing.” His eyes slide to Sirius, a question in them. “You look as though you might’ve had a cry, that’s all.” 
“Water under the bridge,” Sirius assures him, giving you a firm squeeze. “We’re all good now, just very hungry and in need of someone to make sandwiches for lunch. Right, baby?” 
You nod amenably, but Remus fixes you with a curious look. 
“Are you hungry, dove?” he asks. 
You take some time to mull this over. Sirius bites the inside of his lip to restrain himself, and he can see James doing the same to his cheek. It’s a good thing that you’re taking such a thorough inventory of yourself, he supposes, but it’s agonizing to watch how much effort it takes you. After a while, you say, “I think so.” 
Remus nods. “Alright. We had a snack a bit ago, but if you’re hungry you should eat. I can make sandwiches,” he shoots Sirius a teasing look as he starts to stand, “since I’m not in the habit of taking advantage of those who’ve just got home from training.” 
“No, sit.” James urges Remus back down with a hand on his shoulder, squeezing fondly. “I’ve got it, I’m on an adrenaline roll right now anyway. Egg and cress all around?” 
“Yes, please,” Remus says. You echo a moment later. 
Sirius can’t seem to detach himself from you, which isn’t unusual but has been worse since your injury. He dots kisses along the edge of your jaw to amuse himself. 
“Are you feeling tired?” Remus asks you. “You haven’t had a nap yet today.” 
Sirius waits for the inevitable joke about your nursing home schedule, but it doesn’t come. You must not be feeling up to it. 
You shrug, mumbling, “I’m okay.” 
“Have a nap with me after lunch,” Sirius says. “I’m knackered, and I could use a cuddle buddy.” 
You make a confused humming sound. “Were you just asleep?” 
“I was,” he admits readily. “And it’ll be even better the second time around, with you there.” 
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ivysangel · 2 days
Text
"IF IT'S FUCK ME, THEN WE HAVIN' SEX" - MDNI [hate sex, hair pulling, licking]
You yank the back of his head up from the crook of your neck, red-hot anger radiating off of you in waves as you scowl at the man above you. If Dick wasn't such a good lay, you'd have cut him out of your life a long time ago when you'd broken up with him after he screwed you over the first time. Unfortunately, you had a nasty habit of thinking with the thing between your legs instead of your brain, hence why you were the poster girl for fury and rage despite being close to your third orgasm of the night.
"Poster girl for fury and rage," but the sweet, high-pitched sounds coming from between your lips say otherwise. The way your muscles twitch every time his hands roam and squeeze your body in any capacity...You were a liar, weak in the knees for a man you hated, handing out pussy to someone you'd wished death upon frequently. You made yourself sick but not sick enough to stop.
His hips move back and forth, cock sliding in and out of you with ease and coated from tip to ball in your slick. He holds your legs up, keeping them wide open, and his head tilts down, fighting against the grip you have on his scalp to watch the way you take him with no resistance. 
You tug again, this time in response to him hitting the soft, sensitive spot deep in your cunt. Brows furrowed and mouth falling open with every moan that slips past your lips, your feigned hard demeanor softens with every stroke of his cock. You lose yourself in the sensations, very quickly becoming the picture of pleasure as the friction of his hips grinding against your own sends shivers up your spine.
Dick's blue eyes take you in, trapped beneath him once again despite the string of insults and curses you had yelled in his face just a little over two hours ago. He had let it slide, though. Brushing off your words because you're pretty when you're angry, and he knew you'd let him in. You're predictable like that, always quick to drop your pants for him in between fights, even when you say you hate him.
He leans down into your neck again, breathing in your scent, nose brushing against your face as he trails up and down your jaw, leaving soft kisses along your neck and cheek in sync with his strokes. A thin shin of sweat sits on top of your body, making you stick to him like glue, and he licks a strip up from your neck to your ear, tasting the saltiness of your skin. Your jaw goes slack, and you whimper, feeling like that one action has pushed you right into the deep end.
"Oh, but it's fuck me, huh?" He mumbles into your ear, nipping at the lobe and rolling his hips into yours in a way that makes your back arch. Even with closed eyes, you know he's smiling; the lilt in his voice is evident even with his words so jumbled. You'd tell him to go fuck himself, but it was too late now; you were committed to coming.
"Shut the fuck up," you pant, on the brink of your orgasm, chest tightening as you feel your brain start to go foggy once again; the promise of ecstasy on the horizon.
"Uh-huh," he grunts, bucking his hips harshly, eliciting another tug at his hair. "That's what I thought."
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gglitch1dd · 1 day
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...Totally worth it.
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Context: Your oldest son is being hunted down by his girlfriend's father.
Warning: Mention of a shotgun, angry DILF Eijiro, Midoriya boys causing chaos
You heard your front door slam open making your eyes widen in shock. Your husband paused in the middle of a spoon full of pudding in his mouth as he looked to you just as confused. You both turned to look to the entrance way. Running at lightning speed was Toshinori with sparks going over his body as he immediately went to his father.
"Dad! Dad you've got to hide me!" He urged as he shook his father, his eyes wide in pure panic as he glanced behind him before looking forward again.
Izuku swallowed the chocolate pudding and sat up. "Now why are you slamming open doors, you didn't even take off your shoes!" He motioned down to the red Jordans that Toshinori still had on.
"Dad, it doesn't matter right now! He's going to kill me if you don't hide me."
You sighed as you looked to your eldest son with a raised eyebrow as you were putting the rest of the pudding in the fridge. "Toshinori weren't you and Kane at Uncle Eijiro's house?" You asked with a raised eyebrow.
Toshinori nodded his head. "Yes, but now, they both want to kill me."
"Who?"
"Uncle Eijiro and Kane."
"Why?"
"I don't have time to explain it!" He rushed out as he kept on glancing at the doorway.
Izuku moved to stand up as he let out a sigh, upset that he couldn't just finish the amazing pudding you had made him. "I'm sorry, Toshi, but you've got to explain what you did to warrant such a r-"
"I got caught making out with Satomi in her room." Toshinori rushed out, catching you both by surprise. Your jaw dropped in pure shock as you looked at your seventeen year old son. Izuku's eyes widened as he stared at Toshinori. Said boy looked like he was semi-regretting his life choices. He looked to the side. "Listen, it isn't my proudest moment either, okay. I was in Satomi's room and we were just together you know. We're teenagers and then one thing led to another and... I... found myself..." He grimaced as he tried to find the words, looking embarrassed with a strained smile. "Tangled... with... her... tongue." He shrugged.
You looked at your eldest son in utter shock. You knew he was a teenage boy and you were also aware that he had a life you were not aware of (to his knowlegde) but this was not what you wanted to hear on a perfectly good Sunday. You put your hand to your hips. "You're telling me that you slipped and fell into her mouth?!"
Your son paused. A smug look went to his face as he chuckled. "Well, when you put it like that-" He saw the look on your face. He coughed as he hit his chest. "No." He shook his head. "No. I- I did not."
You looked to your husband who had a mixture of pride and shock on his face. Shocked that Toshinori was still alive, pride that he managed to pull that off. Izuku let out a chuckle. "Number one, good job." You nearly sprained your neck with how fast you turned to look at your husband. "Number two, get your passport, Eijiro's going to murder you." Just as he said that he heard the familiar sound of a Ford Raptor engine outside their house. "Too late, hide." Izuku motioned to one of the cabinets in the kitchen. To your surprise Toshinori quickly folded himself and slotted in.
Right as Izuku kicked shut the cabinet, you heard at your doorway.
"WHERE IS HE?!" You could feel his voice in your shoes. Eijiro had never sounded so angry besides when in uniform and even then you weren't sure he was ever this mad.
Marching into your house like a bull seeing red, was Eijiro with an ugly scowl on his face. He had a shotgun in one hand and a prepared fist in the other. Your eyes widened at the gun in your house. Eijiro whipped his head to look over to the both of you.
"WHERE IS TOSHINORI!? TOSHINORI! WHEN I CATCH YOU MIDORIYA TOSHINORI-" A chuckle came out of his mouth as a grin went to his face, his pupils thin as he looked around your house vigilant. "I'M GOING TO SKIN YOU ALIVE BOY! MIDORIYA TOSHINORI WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!"
Kane suddenly appeared storming through your house as well. He had a mean scowl on his face that you only ever saw on his father. "He isn't outside. Check his room."
You watched as Eijiro stormed upstairs right as his daughter came rushing inside with slippers on.
"DADDY! Daddy, please don't kill him!" She shouted as she paused with a deep breath. She put her hands on her knees with a sigh before looking to you and your husband. She seemed pretty anxious about the entire ordeal as she scurried over to you. "I am so sorry Uncle Izuku and Aunty Y/N." She bowed at the waist. "Daddy is-"
"Going to kill Toshinori and I'll help him bury the body." Kane stated confidently with his arms folded over his chest.
Satomi turned to look at her brother shocked. "Kane!"
Eijiro came running down the stairs and made a bee-line straight for your husband. "Izuku, where's your son?"
Izuku turned to look at Eijiro. He blinked before raising an eyebrow as he leaned back against the counter. "My son?"
"Yes, your son."
"Which one? I have many."
"Toshinori!"
Izuku turned to look at you with a look so genuinely confused he almost had you fooled. He scratched the side of his head. "Toshinori? That's a weird name. Never heard of him."
Eijiro practically looked as though he was about to burst an artery. "He is your eldest son!!"
Izuku took a moment before his eyes widened in recognition. "OH! My eldest. Okay, Asahi!" Peaking out from the sitting room was your fourteen year old son. "Uncle Eijiro is looking for you." He motioned to the angry black haired man standing in his kitchen.
Eijiro let out a groan in frustration, the few grey strands in his long black hair seemed to be caused by this whole situation. "Asahi! Where's your brother!"
Asahi raised an eyebrow. "Who? I have many."
"TOSHINORI!"
Asahi was silent. He glanced at Satomi, at his father then at Eijiro. He adjusted his glasses. "Never heard of him."
Eijiro let out a groan. "You Midoriyas!"
"Daddy, please." Satomi stepped forward as she took his arm, pulling on it, begging him to listen to her. Her big ruby eyes stared up at him pleadingly as she tugged on his arm. The sixteen year old girl was a spitting image of her father, just comedically shorter and much more feminine. "He's my boyfriend! I don't mind when he touches me."
"Satomi, my princess." Eijiro put down his shot gun, which you immediately put onto safety and put away far from his reach. He focused down on his eldest daughter, cupping her chubby face in his big hands. He looked down at her genuinely. "You are the air of which I breathe. You are one of my most precious little gems and my darling little princess. I told you that your body is a temple, it's sacred," He told her almost as if genuinely giving her a talk right now. "It's something you should keep safe from the grabby hands of stupid boys like Toshinori."
"But daddy, I'm seventeen!" She frowned up at him as she removed her face from his grasp. Her frown looked more like a pout as she folded her arms and looked up at him.
"Exactly! Far too young for such a stupid boy!"
"I love Toshinori!"
"You should love yourself more!"
"He's my boyfriend!" She stood her ground.
Eijiro motioned to the side. "He can be your boyfriend without any hands!"
"I like his hands and I like when he touches me! I feel special!" She defended, making her father's face fall in shock but a bit in horror. "If- if you kill him, I'll never forgive you!" She shouted with tears in her eyes.
Eijiro looked like a kicked dog as his face feel. "Princess-"
"Never ever forgive you! I'll- I'll..." She thought for a second of something that will hurt him. She walked over to Izuku and grabbed his arm. "I'll make Uncle Izuku my new Daddy and I'll never speak to you ever again!"
Izuku's eyes widened before he looked back at Eijiro, who turned to look at him as if he wanted to slaughter him. Izuku put his free hand up in self-defense. "I did nothing! She said she would do that, not me!"
"I love Toshinori, Daddy!" She told him as she stepped closer to her father with a hand to her chest. "He's kind and sweet and he's always looking out for me! He doesn't make me feel like I need to lose weight to be pretty or that I'm not enough for him! He loves me for me, and that's all I've ever wanted!" You could hear the desperation but also the real genuine love in her voice. "I know you don't like me dating, but he's a good guy! And I love you, Daddy. I really really do, you're my world and you've given up so much for me" You saw Eijiro soften at the words, his shoulders easing as he looked at his eldest daughter. "But I'm not going to stop loving him too."
"YAH!"
You all froze at the sound that came from one of your cupboards. Satomi turned in surprise. Izuku slapped a hand over his face with a defeated sigh.
Without wasting a second longer, Eijiro flung the doors open of your cupboards before finding your son, scrunched up in there. Toshinori had wide eyes as he looked up at his girlfriends dad. He let out a nervous chuckle. "Hey uncle Eijiro... Ever tell you that you have amazing genes?" Eijiro grabbed him by his hair. "I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY-"
Toshinori sat at your kitchen table with an ice pack on his swollen cheek. He counted himself lucky that all he got was a punch to the face. He looked up at you as you gave him a glare with your arms folded. He sighed. "Don't look at me like that mom."
"That's what you get for acting like you're grown, Toshinori." You pointed out. "You shouldn't be feeling up girls in their rooms!"
"At least not when their father's are home." Izuku pointed out. You gave your husband a look that quickly made him clear his throat. "Is what I would say." He quickly covered up. You rolled your eyes, "Honey," Izuku laughed as he motioned to Toshinori, moving to put one hand on Toshinori's shoulder. "My son over here-"
"You're sleeping on the couch." You didn't even entertain your husband as you pushed yourself off the counter and moved towards the steps heading upstairs.
Izuku looked at you shocked. Toshinori looked at his dad amused but said nothing. "My love, you can't be serious." He started as he followed after you.
"You want to support your son's shenanigans, go ahead and do it from the couch. You aren't sleeping in my bed with that nonsense."
"Our son-"
"YOUR son!"
"My love, I'm sorry. Please don't do this to me."
Toshinori ignored his father trying to get back into your good graces as he pulled out his phone to look at himself in his camera. Asahi walked into the kitchen, moving to grab himself a cup of juice. He turned around to look at his older brother as he took a sip. "Proud of yourself?"
Toshinori looked back down at his reflection. Despite the bruise, he had a crimson red lipstick kiss planted on his cheek. He smirked, knowing the kisses he would get in the future for braving such a feat. He nodded his head. "Totally worth it." Asahi let out a scoff and shook his head as he moved to leave the kitchen. "Can you blame me!? She was wearing a sundress!"
-Glitch1d
[Midoriya Izuku Masterlist]
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urfavleo777 · 2 days
Note
What about Joost catches the reader reading a smut fanfiction about him! Needy fem reader please, and dirty talk and praise kink if you can please <3
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warnings: unprotected sex, bad language, smut
joost klein smut
you wake up early in the morning. although to say it's early morning isn't entirely correct. the sun has not yet risen above the horizon, the sky is just starting to take on morning colors. a pleasant warmth envelopes your entire body, making you feel like you are in your own cocoon of comfort and security. you blink a few times to clear the haze of sleep from your eyes. your head rests on joost's hard chest. his chest moving steadily, his warm breath spreads down your neck, soft snores escaping from his nostrils and his strong arm wraps around your waist. his cheeks, covered with stubble, are slightly pink, and his full lips are parted. his blonde hair is messy and you find it extremely sexy.
a smile appears on your face at this lovely sight. 
you untangle your hand from under his head, quite carefully so that he doesn't wake up, and stroke his cheek with the palm of your hand. you don't want to make any noise so as not to accidentally wake him up, but you can't just force yourself to fall back asleep. making sure his eyes are still closed, you grab your phone from the nightstand and begin your guilty pleasure in peace. let's skip the fact that you almost get blinded when you unlock it.
reading fanfiction about your boyfriend makes you feel like you're committing some sort of crime. there are many book titles scrolling on the phone screen that aren't really about a cliché bad boy and good girl, where the biggest 'wow effect' is their kiss. sometimes authors are so carried away by fantasy that you choke on your own saliva while reading their works. 
it never even crossed your mind to tell joost what you do in your free time. and that's how it should stay. he certainly wouldn't be mad at you if he saw a fanfic on your phone in which his character was fucking another girl and readers were thirsting over it, but you yourself would feel extremely embarrassed. besides, why should he find out what thoughts are running through his girlfriend's imagination? well, it's called imagination for a reason.
finally, you find a book that interests you so much that you devote half an hour of your time to it. you giggle a few times while reading, but quickly cover your mouth so as not to wake joost. all in vain. you don't even realize when he's staring at your screen, a wide, lazy smile spreading across his face.
“you wrote it about me?” his morning voice brings you back to reality. an unexpected scream escapes your lips. you place your hand on joost's chest to stop him from grabbing your phone, but it's way too late. he is much faster and stronger. no matter how loudly you beg him to stop, he reads the words on the screen with a smirk on his face. “he sucked and licked every sensitive part of my neck until his lips reach my chest. i bit my lip. i know i was already wet. with joost’s body stapled on me, i just can't help but feel aroused.” he reads aloud, from time to time looking at your embarrassed face, which now you hide in your hands. “baby, why do you read such things when you have me here all for yourself?”
“i—i don't know. fuck, you weren’t supposed to see that.”
joost chuckles quietly while putting your phone back on the nightstand. then puts his head on the pillow and streches his arms out towards you. “c'mere.” coaxing you towards him as he gently pulls you by your hands onto his warm body again. he places your head on his chest and makes you listen to the steady beat of his heart. joost strokes your back with his hand, sending a pleasant shiver through your body. “how often do you read fanfiction about me?”
“not that ofte— everyday.” you answer honestly, closing your eyes from embarrassment. “whenever you're not looking.”
“and you just read? or..?” he murmurs, tracing his hands over your ass.
“both. uhm, i’m doing both.” a short, throaty laugh escapes his lips as amusement appears on his face at the same time.
“desperate for my dick even at six am.”
“i— please, kiss me, joost.” not a millisecond passes and he already obliges. shoving your tongue into one another's mouths before slowly exchanging slow, messy pecks. the sounds get louder and louder as you hum into each other's lips. as you do this, the thin area of ​​your panties rubs against his legs. grinding the bare flesh of his thighs. whatever you need at the moment, he will make it happen. slowly but surely, you work yourself into a frenzy, whimpering into his ear.. that's when he notices these gentle cries as well.
“isn't this better? now you can finally feel my touch, not only imagine it. my naughty girl.”
he starts rubbing furious circles, and you suddenly feel a hard slap against your right bum cheek. you whine as pleasure and pain intermingle, making you squirm around. his breath tickles your ear. “you love it when i'm rough like this, don't you?”
you nod, desperately humping faster to find your release.
“joost, can i ride you, please?” he just chuckles at how desperate and gone you are for him.
all but pleading to climb atop his dick. “of course, beautiful. here.” so without a moment more of hesitation, you take off your pants. easing down gently, you acclimate to his shape almost immediately and the both of you release loud gasps. 
“joost...i—oh fuck..”
“just keep going, baby. you're so pretty like this.”
“joost,” you whine and reach between your bodies to rub your fingers against your sensitive bud. you title your head back, losing yourself in the sensation, and he begins to trail kisses up your chest and to your neck. mouth searching for yours as your hips match his pace.
“so fucking perfect. that feel good, yeah? that what you like?” he questions, perhaps with double meaning.
as you try to speak, you have trouble choosing words. thus, all you can do is nod emphatically. you feel him chuckle against your throat at your nonverbal response. clearly, he's enjoying himself as much as you are.
“this messy little cunt's fuckin' gushin' all over me. think you're ruinin' the sheets, pet,” he teases.
“joost, ‘m so close,” you moan and he begins to encourage you between kisses. 
it is an ecstasy you've never experienced before. your head is buzzing and it's as if the whole world disappears around you as the orgasm takes over, coursing through you in violent waves as joost continues to worship you. you repeat his name like an old prayer you once knew; over and over with conviction.
“sweetheart, where do you want it?”
“fill me,” you plead, his seed coating your walls as he groanes your name.
the two of you still, his labored breaths warm along your chest and you look at him with a wide smile. his cheeks blossom a bright pink. eyes hooded and body spent.
so beautifully human.
he helps you off his lap but keeps you close, holding you next to him as you lay on the bed. your legs slotted between his, long nails grazing along his chest as he presses kisses to your forehead. “next time you're feeling horny, just come to me, schatje.”
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Text
Headcanons of the boys while you're pregnant bc my hormones are crazy and want me to get pregnant again so I'm doing this instead.
My period hit an hour after writing this so that explains it.
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Draco Malfoy
Stressed omg. Like he wants everything to be perfect
Will hire help when he's away at work just so you don't have to do anything. Cleaning? Maid. Cooking? Personal chef. Even a chauffeur
I, for some reason, feel like he'd handle your mood swings the best. Always so calm, no matter if you're crying, yelling, or stressed.
1000% helping with the nesting period. You're ready to set up the nursery, he's with you, picking out things and setting it up. Will also hire someone to do a cute mural on one wall.
Lowkey will cry by himself when you're sleeping about how happy he is that he's having a baby with you. Like will sneak off to the nursery, sit in the rocking/gliding chair with the ultrasound and smile as tears fall.
Will buy all the types of ultrasounds at one of those places that does it. Normal, 3d, video, getting a recording of the heartbeat(even putting it in a bear). Anything and everything.
Tom Riddle
I'm gonna be honest, I don't think he'd be the best. Like at least not emotionally.
I do feel like he'd get 10x more protective though.
Won't let you leave the house without him. What if something happened to you?
Will help you with everything physically. Like will help with building things for the nursery and doing anything tedious so you don't strain yourself.
Will make sure you don't eat any junk food. Always on top of your prenatals. Making sure you're eating 3 square meals a day and will make sure none of it is food you will puke, making sure if you do puke from the food, you never eat it again.
But when it comes to your mood swings, I don't see him being any more gentle with you than normal. Will probably just remind you it's pregnancy hormones and that everything's okay, but that's about it.
Mattheo Riddle
Doesn't know what to do. Panicked at every new thing happening to you.
Will go to every appointment and ask a million questions every time to the doctor.
Does find your pregnancy cravings amusing and will try them with you, even the gross combos. Will also try to get them for you, no matter the time of day.
Almost like Tom in the protective part, like not letting you leave without him or someone else.
Tries so hard with your mood swings. He doesn't understand how to calm you down. He understands it's pregnancy hormones, but doesn't understand how you're crying over a dog video and doesn't know how to calm you down.
Will not let you do anything for the nursery other than pick out items. Will bring a comfy chair in the room or set up the rocking/gliding chair first so you can sit in it and tell him how you want everything, where you want everything placed, all that.
Blaise Zabini
The best. Omg. He's already so sweet, and this will just turn him into the sweetest boy ever.
Already buying matching outfits for all of you the day you tell him you're pregnant. Also buys you the cutest maternity clothes, you're almost disappointed when they don't fit anymore after the baby.
Loves indulging in your cravings. Even if it means getting up at 2am to go get ice cream because you want this specific ice cream, not what we have in the freezer.
Will talk to the bump at night so baby will recognize his voice. Also loves feeling the kicks. Also buying a doppler so you two can hear the heartbeat whenever you'd like.
Didn't understand the nesting period at first, like why are you cleaning and stressed about getting everything ready? We still have two months. Once he learns, he is off his ass and helping with everything.
Also like Tom with the meals and prenatals, but doesn't mind junk food. Just tries to get you to eat healthier food first, but baby's in charge here, he knows if baby doesn't want it, you're not eating it and would rather have you eat cheetos and candy than nothing.
Lorenzo Berkshire
Cries when you tell him you're pregnant, partly from happiness, partly from 'holy shit we're gonna be parents'. Cries when he sees the ultrasound too.
So doting. Asking every 5 minutes if you need anything, water, a snack, a massage, cuddles?
Handles your mood swings pretty well. He just wants to find out what the problem is. How can he fix it? Hugs? Cuddles? Kisses? You wanna go get some treats or snacks or food?
Obsessed with your bump. Paying for the top top top maternity photographer so he has high quality pics forever. Buying cute maternity clothes that show off your bump.
Will let you help with small things for the nursery, like putting up decorations on the shelves and wall and rug just so you can feel like you helped without doing anything too tedious.
Will get you a pregnancy pillow but gets so jealous of it when he realizes it's pretty much impossible to cuddle you with it. 'Am I not comfortable enough?' Glares at the pillow when you're not looking like it's a real person.
Theodore Nott
Smiling like an idiot when you tell him. Hugging you so tight, he's nearly crushing you.
Already like your personal chef, but he's researching the best meals for pregnant women and making them for you. Lowkey almost feels insulted if you throw any of them up but has to remind himself it's not you or him, but the baby. Will whisper to your bump when your sleeping too about 'how dare they? that was excellent food?'
Speaking of, is big on talking to the baby, like he'll come home and lay or sit down with you and talk to the baby about his day. Not even directed at you and if you make a comment, he'll jokingly say smth like 'hey, I'm talking to the baby, not you.'
As soon as you get the furniture for the nursery, he's setting it up. You don't even have to ask and it's most likely done without you knowing. Like you'll walk into the nursery and all the furniture is ready to go, you just need to decorate and rearrange.
Will have a shelf dedicated to yours and his old baby stuff too, just so there's a little part of you two with the baby always.
Finds your mood swings funny and tries not to smile, but you can tell and it makes it worse. 'cara mia, why are you crying? it's just a commercial.' He'll say, but wrap his arms around you anyways to comfort you.
Taglist:
@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff
@soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl @brittney-121
@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddlesbitch @acornacreacure @opheliamalfoy236
@demieyesore
Let me know if you wanna be added!
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echoofadream · 13 hours
Text
Your favorite patient...
Summary: You are a hardworking doctor and you save a man's life. Wait, why is he coming back with all sorts of conditions? What do you mean he followed you home? He's begging to be your...what?
Contains: Obsessive behavior(yandere), stalking, mentions of masturbation, slight smut, dom!reader(gender is not specified), sub!male!yandere.
Imagine you work in a hospital. You're a workaholic doctor who simply loves treating people and helping them get healthier and better. You greet everyone with a smile and try to cheer up every person who comes in, despite their state. 
One day a young man is brought into the ER and you find out he had been in a horrible car accident. You don't waste any more time and treat his wounds and the next day he's already conscious and aware of everything happening around him. Yours is the first face he sees once awake.
The following days you visit him in his hospital room and ask him how he's feeling, the same honest and benevolent smile on your face. You can tell that he's exaggerating most of the time and that the pain he tells you he's experiencing is not as severe as he claims. So you do the only rational thing and discharge him.
Next week, he's back with another issue and he requests you specifically. An ear infection. It wasn't your area of expertise but you took a look and recommended him a qualified doctor. He left displeased.
One week later you saw him again. A stomach ache. It wasn't bad but he wouldn't have it. "You don't get it, doctor! It hurts!" he'd say and grab your wrist, putting it on his lower stomach. He wanted a set of tests. He was even willing to pay any sum of money! You actually ran the tests and he spent one night in the hospital. You should've paid more attention to the smile he had on his face when you came with his results. He wasn't pleased seeing a green line next to every word on the file, yet he understood the situation and left. "Thank you so much, doctor!" he said with a huge smile on his face. "I was so scared! What would I do without you?"
The following week he was in the ER again. Ibuprofen overdose. "I had a headache and didn't know what to do! Help me, doctor!" A part of you was starting to see a pattern, yet your overworked mind couldn't quite put the finger on the issue at hand. You treated him like any other patient. The same friendly smile on your face, the same soft tone of voice, the same tired eyes. You were busy saving lives everyday. This was your duty and you had to do it right. "Such a big heart you have, doctor!" the same adoration in his eyes when he says this as always. "You're amazing!" and you could've sworn you saw tiny hearts forming inside his dark pupils. You should drink less caffeine, really.
After a couple of days the man doesn't come into the ER. Yet you don't even notice his absence. You were so overworked, so tired! Poor you!
One random Thursday(a thoroughly planned day) you freeze when you step into your living room. A familiar person was sitting on your couch. You knew him from somewhere, but why was it so hard for you to remember?
"Hello, doctor!" he greets. The same smile, the same excited voice. And you recognized him. "Don't tell me you don't know who I am..." he started, a bit of disappointment making its way into his facial expression.
You were standing there, unable to move. What was your patient doing inside your house? How did he know where you lived? How did he get inside? Why did he get inside? Was he dange-
"You don't look too pleased to see me, doctor..." he says, a small frown on his face. He approaches you and you instinctively take a step back. "Don't be afraid. I'd never hurt you." his words were either as honest as they could be or he was one hell of a liar. The former sounded better. "You're good and kind and gentle. I'd never hurt you" he chuckled. That makes you make another step back.
"What are you doing here?" you ask, breathlessly.
"I'm here for you, isn't that obvious?"
It was very obvious but you were hoping he'd elaborate.
"You work so hard, doctor" he starts talking in a pitiful, saddened voice. "You work overtime almost everyday. You always come back home late. You don't even have time to cook and you always order takeaway. Then you sit in front of the TV with a glass of wine in your hand, drifting off with god knows what series in the background." He chuckles. "Well, I know actually.".
He takes another step towards you and you flinch. "I wanna make you feel good, doctor" he tells you, almost whimpering. "You work so hard...it's a pity you don't have a slave at home to take care of each and every one of your needs"
Did he just say slave?
"I've been following you ever since you saved my life, doctor. I owe you!". He puts a hand over his heart, trying to show you just how much he loves you. "I know everything you do. I know you barely have a social life, or a sleep schedule or time for yourself except for the moments when you lay on your back on the bed, your glass on the bedside table and you...touch yourself." He blushed at his own words. Meanwhile, you were going through the five stages of fear. If they didn't exist until now, well now they did.
"You don't have any time to clean this place either. I know, since I try not to cough when I lay under your bed and listen to your moans every night." A huge smile spreads across his face. "God, you're amazing..." .
Your hand goes to the pocket of your coat and, as soon as he sees you, his face darkens.
"Doctor...I told you I'm not here to hurt you" His tone held some sort of threat and that made you the more afraid. Your fingers wrap around your phone and you pull it out. He grabs your wrist, stopping you. "You're not gonna do that!" he screams. "You're gonna make me yours! You're gonna do it!".
The sound of your palm making contact with his cheek echoed in the room. He bends forward a little, covering his red cheek and whining softly. He looks at you with fear in his eyes, but you needed to be blind not to see the arousal that fear created. He drops to his knees, hands on his thighs, head lowered.
"I'm sorry, doctor!" he whines. "I shouldn't have yelled at you! Please forgive me! Please! Forgive me for being such a bad boy..." .
You look at him with a shocked expression. It was crystal clear that he was living inside his own world of make-believe in which you were the master and he was the slave. It was obvious he'd wanted it ever since he first saw you. And that he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.
You smirk, all the previously felt fear having already vanished. After all, everything he said was right. You were exhausted and you needed someone to serve you. You deserved it, didn't you? Weren't you that god sent person who saved this poor boy's life? Why not give him what he wants? Why not...give yourself what you want?
"You followed me home" you start, your tone as assertive as you could make it. You could see his body shiver and that only made you keep going. "You broke into my house multiple times. You stalked me!"
A soft whimper escapes the man in front of you. He tries to lift his head, to look at you with those big pleading puppy eyes of his, to show you how very sorry he felt(not in the slightest) for doing all that. But when you snap at him he lowers his head again.
"You gave yourself medical conditions so that I could treat you! What kind of sick fuck does that?"
He moaned when he heard your degrading words, lifting his head and looking you straight in the eyes, a big smile on his face.
"I'm sick, doctor. I'm very sick..."
You laughed at his wordplay. "I think you've been a bad boy. A bad sick naughty boy. You know what bad boys get?" You smirk, waiting for his answer.
"Punishment!" he yells, his eagerness immeasurable. "They get punishment. Please, doctor..."
"Please, what?"
"Please....punish me"
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!
If this goes well I'll write the second part(smut ofc).
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undercoverpena · 2 days
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i’d look for you
din djarin x f!reader | masterlist
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summary: din offers you something else in a field of wildflowers
warnings: 18+, allusion to smut ONLY. soft!din. idiots who have feelings but don't know what to do with them. jo's writing din so it gets weirdly poetic again. wordcount: 2k notes: pairing is the same as other din fics by me. but don’t need to read to enjoy. written for @morallyinept's Flora & Fauna Challenge - this fic has made me smile so much, I hope it does the same for you.
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“Can you do something for me?”
The question hangs, burns, in the air of his bed. Your eyes blinking awake, having been roused from slumber by his gloved hand on your cheek.
You’re aware he’s waiting, biting the inside of your cheek, as you nod.
Swallowing the longer answer which burns on your tongue, finding it now tastes of acid and wrongness, having been trapped inside for so long, having let it overstay its welcome.
You suspect he knows it all anyway. Likely as easily able to read you, as you are him. Able to hear the words you don’t say, just from the way you stare at him, like a written passage all on its own.
He helps you up, but doesn’t hurry you. You almost smirk at the purposeful, cautious touches on your side, trailing his gloved hand along the curve of your back as he leads you to the refresher, awakening thoughts more sinful than you suspect is his intention.
It’s then he tells you the time, but shares nothing else about why the ship is quiet.
“What about—”
“He’s asleep.”
Your mouth clamps shut, taking the clothes he hands you as you bury the rest of the questions. Each piece you slide on, you don’t shy away as he stands waiting. Letting him stare, letting him take in the sight of you in more light than he can when your bodies usually writhe.
Are you admiring me, Din? you want to ask. Do you feel the invisible string between us too?
Sometimes, you dislike that he told you the shade of his eyes, because you look for them. Peer through the visor with more hope than you’d allowed yourself to have before.
“Can you turn around?”
It should sound like a command, but his tone is softer, more brittle. Something unspoken within it, tightening around each letter, bending and forging with it—likely things he’ll never admit.
Still, you obey. Closing your eyes as you feel him behind you, his presence crowding and looming—recollecting when he’d been barer than he is now, draped over you.
If you will it enough, you swear you can feel his breath fluttering over your shoulder—remembering how he makes you feel full and sated, content and happy. The last time, you’d been in a haze, fucked out, blissfully aware of the naked fingers resting at the base of your neck as you came down and the way he had tilted your head back and swallowed your whine like he knew it belonged to him.
You do, you think, belong to him.
Not because he has taken, but because he has earned—he has proven. A thing which rises to the tip of your tongue and sears alongside the other words which linger and ferment.
“Trust me,” he says.
Not a question, but an ask. And you don’t mean to, but an unintentional gasp escapes at the feel of the soft, smooth fabric when it slides over your eyes. Light fades as though he clicks his fingers, blanketing you in night in the middle of the day as it tightens around your head—rendering you quiet, shyer, almost smaller, as your sense is removed, willingly given but taken all the same.
Then you stand, breath hitching, anticipation threading through your veins as you wait. For him to move, to speak, to do. Each second stretches into eternity, making a protest wish to appear. A change of mind, a declaration of wishing to do something else, than this.
But, you don’t speak it. Instead, dancing your fingers against the tops of your thighs, waiting, not patiently, but not rushing.
“Relax.”
You snort to smother the shiver that darts down your spine at his voice.
Unsure how one does such a thing when you hear the ramp going down, subtly listening to the sound of water running. You feel lost, adrift in a sea of darkness—of nothingness—with every fibre of your being yearning for a familiar anchor, teeth rolling over your bottom lip as you fight the urge to whisper his name into the void, a silent plea for reassurance amidst the engulfing uncertainty.
Din, you think.
Wondering if he can hear his name in your mind. If he’ll come to your calling, hold your hand; allow you to ask if this is necessary, if this—
“Breathe.”
And you do.
Chest filling, lungs flooding—his gloved fingers sliding between your bare ones, rooting you as he repeats it. Calmness spreads through you inch by inch, in the same way he makes pleasure surge through your muscles.
He gives you a minute, a moment. Likely waiting until your head turns in the direction you think he’s in, before he leads, offering stony orders to be careful—one that almost makes you grin until your steps take your soles to meet something softer than his ship.
The smell greets you first. It’s crisp and sweet—unlike anything you’ve encountered. Then the drizzle, how it forces your clothing to bind to your skin in a way that should feel suffocating, but instead feels freeing. Lips beginning to stretch, teeth showing as your cheeks ache with the intensity of your grin.
It’s then you feel him move behind you, the squelch of his boots signifying it. His chest meets your spine, the ghost of his touch along the side of his neck, before you feel the fabric over your eyes, loosen and light begins to seep in.
Then, it goes from nothing to everything. It being almost too much to take in all at once—the unveiled surprise, the thing he’d wanted you to see in its wonder and not in pieces as you descended.
And—
“It’s beautiful.”
It being the delicate blooms that stretch out before you. Each one a mysterious burst of colour against a backdrop of greenery. Vibrant splashes of colour, all wild and free, rising from the ground like the scenes from books you used to read. With each sway and ripple in the breeze, you spot more flowers. All of them stirred by the falling rain, watching each motion, all in awe; lost for words.
Distantly, you become aware that he’s moved to the side of you, but you’re unable to tear your eyes from the world. Not able to take your sight from the striking array of hues, every colour flower you think you could ever imagine swaying. Because there are iridescent blues and purples; there are some that glow with luminous gold and reds that look stained with blood. Shares you can’t even name, but are drawn to, reluctant to steal your gaze until you spot another.
Fingers reaching out, knee bending, you touch one, find it softer, more delicate than you ever thought. Tears springing to your eyes, chest swarmed with warmth as you admire the way the stems twist and spiral in graceful arcs, all beaded with the sparkling mist that continues to fall.
“What do you think?”
“It’s…”
Words fail you, a thing you’re not sure he could ever believe.
The only conscious thought is that you wish to live amongst them. No words exist that can describe how serene you feel; how as wild or as drenched as the petals you admire.
Because it’s then you really notice the rain, coming to sit amongst the living and the flowers. Ground soaked with it, it falling in torrents. Each droplet is a percussion against your skin, seeping through the layers and soaking you to the bone.
It's a different kind of loveliness. It’s all free, raw and unyielding, a mosaic of shades that aren't bowing or converting into a glistening canvas of liquid silver—even if the skies try to.
In truth, you thought you’d seen rain. But this is something different.
It is more akin to the sky having been ripped open, split in two, cracked, all but pouring its tears upon the land in a symphony of water and wind. Your fingers dig into the dirt, feeling his equally soaked thigh press against yours as he joins you, feeling him watching, studying, even if you can't see his eyes.
“My mom used to say that a flower sprouts when a person leaves us,” you say, soft, barely your normal volume. “I always wondered where they did—I guess I know now.”
Shifting, you peel your sight from the flowers to see his legs extended, his body so close to yours. So much so, it would be easy to lean into it. Into him. To press your drenched clothing against his equally drowned frame, seek warmth, and take what he will offer you in the brightness of the day.
“Din,” you continue, tuning in to the gruff noise he makes for you to continue, as you move your shoulder closer.
His head turns, the front of his helmet facing you.
Allowing you to see a bead slide gracefully down the silver, moving like a serene symphony—as others fall, and then another. All being left by the sky above, weaving paths you wish to trace with your fingers.
You shouldn’t, but you want to wipe each away with your touch, rest your palms against the places his cheeks should be and will your hands to remember the warmth you know they can be.
“Can you remember the last time you felt the rain on your bare skin?”
Silence. Rain slides against leaves before rolling down to the soil below. The sound increases and decreases in odd waves as the storm tries to square itself against the sun, against the blossoms which rise like an army unwilling to cower.
“No.”
His reply is rough, croaked out through the modulator—caked in openness you’re not sure he wishes to show.
And, it makes a memory resurface. Sharp and clear. The first time you’d felt him unmasked, the vulnerability etched into his features—frame tense, rigid. Nervousness flowed through him as easily as the blood that races. How you’d kissed him, felt his cracked lips gain confidence against yours as his muscles rippled under your palms.
In a different way than then, you reached out, offered comfort—providing something you’re not sure he easily is given.
“A person could get lost here,” you sigh, the words practically tumbling out.
A stillness follows, one only punctuated by the rain. That is, until he shifts, until you hear him exhale, before adding, “Not you.”
Dragging your eyes from the landscape, you watch as more droplets slide and skate down his helmet, against his armour. Desperate to cling. It’s nothing but mesmerising, making him appear like he’s made of the sky. Reflections of the flowers there, muted shades mirroring.
“No?”
He’s silent for a moment. Just one. “Wouldn’t let you. I’d find you.”
Smirking, you turn back to the view. “You’re good at that—practically a professional.”
He allows a beat, lets your shoulder settle against him—the heels of your boots digging into the ground of this place, hoping a little bit clings on and comes with you.
“I’d look for you.”
Breaking your gaze from the flowers and the falling rain, you rest them on his helmet. On him. On the space you think the brown eyes he’s told you about are currently watching you.
It’s slow to appear, taking its time to spread up into your cheek as the implication of his words ring out. Look, not find; search but not hunt.
“I wouldn’t run to begin with.”
You feel it, the shift, slight tilt of his head at your words.
And you swear you hear him breathe good, light almost airy—before gloved fingers find their way between yours again. Soaked, sodden. But neither moving as seconds become minutes.
“Cyar'ika?”
You hum, preening, almost blooming under the name he’s just begun using. Nestling further against him, watching the flowers sway and turn in the rain before his gloved hands come in front of you—a bunch of flowers held out to you, offered, given.
“My hair is brown too.”
You smile, taking the bunch, bringing them to your nose. “That’s nice to know.”
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polly-pocket13 · 2 days
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ramen
katsuki bakugou x reader
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It was 1 am in the morning, when you were standing in a pajama and with your headphones on in the kitchen. Currently, you were cutting spring onions for your ramen while you were singing along to a song. 
All because you previously overslept dinner with your classmates. You were so tired from your workout after school that you felt asleep at 7 pm and woke up six hours later, pretty hungry. That's why you're in the kitchen at one in the morning making ramen.
The next thing you did was cut your finger because you weren't paying attention when you chopped the ingredients.
“Ah, shit.” you cursed quietly. 
“It surprises me that this took so long.” you quietly heard Bakugous voice behind you.
You turned around and looked confused at Bakugou who was standing at the door. You put down your headphones and asked him, “What do you mean, and why are you awake at 2 am?” 
“Firstly, I could ask you the same question, so why are awake at 2 am, dancing, singing in the kitchen and making ramen? Secondly, the way you're cutting things is terrifying, so it's a surprise that you cut your finger now and not earlier. You can be happy that you just cut your finger and nothing else happened.” he told you. 
“Tzz, Dickhead. I am hungry, that's the reason, I am making ramens. And my cutting isn't terrifying.” you said and held your finger under running cold water.
You blushed.
How long he has been watching you?
“Show me your finger.” he said.
He was now standing behind you.
“It isn't that bad.” you said, turned around to him and showed your best friend your finger.
He covered your cut with a band-aid.  You had goose bumps everywhere because he was so close.
You had a crush on your best friend Bakugou since the middle school, but you know he doesn't feel the same way for you.
This is the reason why you wouldn't ever reveal your feelings to him.
“Thank you.” you said and walked to the countertop, and slowly started to cut the ingredients for your ramen again.
“Like I said, terrifying.” he told you again and got behind you. “Let me help you.” he said and laid his hand on yours and helped you to cut your ingredients. 
To be honest, only he was cutting the ingredients, and you just tried to breathe and also held the knife as he was so fucking close to you. 
You could feel his breath on your neck. 
“See, not that hard.” he told you as he finished cutting all the ingredients. 
You said, “I could do it myself.”
“Sure, you could. But maybe you would have lost a finger.” he said and smirked.
You turned around so that you could look him in the eyes. His face was really close to yours.  “Shut up, Kacchan. Sometimes, you are a Jerk.” you mumbled. 
“Being a Jerk is a full-time job.” he only said and moved even closer to you.
What the fuck is he doing.
“You didn't tell me why you are awake at 1 am.” you said and tried to win some space, what didn't work out. “Couldn't sleep, there was someone on my mind.” he answered and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Who?” you asked. 
“Sometimes you are really dumb, nerd.” he said and closed the space between your lips.
Maybe it was fate that you overslept the dinner.
a/n: I'm not sure if I really like it, maybe I'll delete it later on.
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eiightysixbaby · 15 hours
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older!eddie with reader who’s never taken a cock as big as his. he’s used to people telling him he’s too big, to go slow, that they can’t take it. and so he’s trying to be so careful with you, but you’re relentless in your determination to take him.
his fat, leaking tip presses inside, spreading you open as your jaw goes slack. he pushes maybe an inch or two in, but you’re so damn tight around him and he knows it has to be hurting you. he starts to ease up, to pull out a little, but your thighs lock around his waist, caging him desperately in.
“n-no, ed please. please don’t stop, keep going, need you to keep going,” you babble, your pretty eyes glossy as they plead with him.
“christ, sweetheart,” he grunts. “it’s hurtin’ you, don’t wanna hurt you.”
“i don’t care, please,” you beg, “can’t you feel how wet i am for you? need you so bad.”
he thinks he’s gone delirious with the things you’re saying, his tongue feeling like it’s going to flop out of of mouth, like he’s some dog drooling over a treat. he feels like a damn teenager, his hormones on overdrive. he can feel how wet you are, the hand that’s been gripping his shaft brushing against your slick folds to prove it.
“okay, okay, sweet thing. ‘m gonna take care of you,” he promises, his cock intruding further.
you’re whimpering pitifully beneath him, wriggling your hips for more friction, desperate to have more and unwilling to take no for an answer. he could split you entirely in two and it wouldn’t phase you. in his entire life he’s never had someone this needy for his cock, this hellbent on stuffing all of him inside, and he’s struck dumb at the fact that the person who is is you, this sweet young thing.
he can feel your walls clenching around him, relaxing and then tightening once more. “baby,” he pants, his nose brushing against your cheek as he presses a ghost of a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “you sure you can take it all? it’s okay if you can’t,” he reassures, but you’re frankly hearing none of it.
“eddie,” you whine. “I want it all, I’m gonna take it,” you insist. “please,” you sound as if you may cry, “just ruin me. don’t care if I can’t walk for days, give it to me.”
his head spins, his brow furrowing as he presses himself deeper, his cock snug inside of your warm walls. you cry out, biting down on his shoulder, nails digging into the tattooed skin of his back to brace yourself.
“god, you’re such a desperate little thing,” he says, his voice deep and hoarse, strained with the way he holds himself back from pounding into you.
you’re nearly sobbing when you speak again, “make it fit, ed, need it to.”
he finally secures himself all the way in, to the balls, leaning down to kiss your neck as your cunt throbs around him. “there you go, baby. that’s all of it. y’want me to make you cum around this cock?” he asks, the low rumble of his voice making you ache.
“yes,” you say softly, lip wobbling.
“what was that? couldn’t hear you, baby.”
“yes, eddie!” you cry, nearly aggressive in tone. “make me cum, over and over, don’t care if it fucking wrecks me.”
and it’s the last confirmation eddie needs before he makes you see stars.
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Text
The thing about how Laudna deals with the many terrible things that have happened to her throughout her life is that she (and tbh many of her fans) acts as though she has uniquely suffered in such a way that no one else possibly could understand her pain. But several of the other members of the Hells share experiences similar to hers.
Had suffering inflicted on her for the sake of something she wasn't involved in that concerned people greater than herself? Orym experienced that when the Vanguard murdered Derrig and Will as part of a test, to see if the theory that Vax would appear to protect Keyleth was true. And sure Orym didn't die that day; he wasn't murdered as a part of this the way Laudna was. But this did serve as the impetus for him to leave his home and start wandering Tal'dorei, the same as being murdered and waking up on the Sun Tree did for Laudna.
Wandered the world for decades unable to make meaningful connections or really properly settle in one place because of something traumatic that happened in her past? Chetney's family all left him without a word at the start of the Icelost Years; he lost both his home and his family in one fell swoop, the same as Laudna. He then spent decades wandering the world afraid to make sincere connections in case those people left him too. He also can understand what it's like to be scorned and rejected specifically for the kind of creature that he is: Chetney's a werewolf in a world where such people are considered monsters by many.
Has the voice of some powerful, dark force whispering in her ear telling her she's nothing without her and needs her power to protect those she cares about? Dorian had that exact thing with the Spider Queen. Lolth preyed hard in his insecurities and feelings of inadequacy in order to try and convince him to put on the Circlet of Barbed Vision and become her Champion. She specifically leaned into the idea that he needed her power to protect his friends in much the same was Delilah is leaning into the idea that Laudna needs her power to keep Imogen safe. The message from both was: "You need me to protect that ones you love."
Laudna has experienced and continues to experience some very terrible things, but those experiences and the resulting pain aren't unique to her in the world of Exandria; they aren't even unique within her own personal circle. But she focuses so heavily on her own trauma that she doesn't notice this, and in fact specifically holds up her own trauma as greater when the pain of others is brought up ("Don't speak to me of loss"). It means she loses out on the wisdom the others could give her in dealing with her own life: building up a new life after a major and pointless traumatic event from Orym, learning to truly trust and open up to other people again from Chetney, and pushing back against the literal voice in your head telling you you're shit from Dorian. Instead she wallows in her own trauma blind to what it's truly doing to her and to the people around her.
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