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letmetellyouaboutmyfeels · 2 years ago

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On one of your reblogs a couple weeks ago, you said something about friend/relationships not being transactional and that we need each other and my brain has it on a rotisserie. I often see things as that way and try to keep things even…more in me never needing them, I’ll help anyone, anytime. Do you have any experience with shifting your mindset? This question might be misplaced and in that case, it fine to disregard.

Hello nonny dear.

I understand where you're coming from. There are a lot of reasons that one can keep track of who's done what for whom and making sure it stays "even."

I don't know what your reasons are, so I can only speak to my own experiences and what helped me. I hope that it's helpful to you.

I spent a lot of time having a terrible relationship with myself. Because of this, I was constantly doing whatever I could for the people around me. No favor was too large, no trouble too big, no mountain too high, no river too... you get the idea. But I never, ever asked for anything for myself. The idea of needing someone was abhorrent to me because in my mind I didn't deserve needing anyone's time, respect, or love.

One thing that helped me was to shift my perspective and consider how it would feel if it was a friend of mine who felt this way.

You say that you will help anyone, anytime, and it's no trouble to you. So, if you were someone else and saw yourself in need of help, it wouldn't be any trouble to assist, would it? If a friend of yours was hurting and you later found out that they didn't ask you for help, wouldn't you feel sad that you couldn't be there?

Once I started thinking of it not in terms of asking for myself, but giving my friends a chance to be the kind of friend to me they wanted to be, it got easier.

It also helps to realize that if you think that you're not worthy of being friends with someone, or needing them, then you're actually also placing an unfair judgment on them. You're saying what they should and shouldn't spend their time on, who they should and shouldn't hang out with. You're judging their choice in people. But you love these people, right? So why would you put that judgment on them? Let your friends decide for themselves who is worth their energy. And if they think that's you, then that's on them to decide. Not you to push away.

Don't take that choice from them.

Last year, I lost two friends whom I loved very deeply, shattering my trust in people. I'm still very much in the grieving process.

I say this not for sympathy, but to emphasize to you how much I understand the deep, deep pain that loved ones can bring to us. I do not stand before you as someone who loves or trusts easily (frankly I don't know that I'll ever trust again, but that's what my therapist is for).

Rather, I stand before you as someone who understands that as much as she wants to shut herself off from all others, she can't.

It is terrifying to need people. To need love and companionship. To need assistance. Especially the last few decades we have been taught (in the United States at least, not sure where you're from) independence above all else. To do it all, all on our own. Historically, that is not how we operate. Living alone and cooking all our own meals and doing all our own chores and working full-time is not how it's been for the majority of civilization.

You can't do it all. You just can't.

And needing people means that you might get hurt. It means your trust will be betrayed. It means you're going to screw up the courage to ask for something you need, be it a ride to the airport or respect, and you're going to be denied.

But put simply, you have no choice.

You are going to need to cry to someone, to laugh with someone. You are going to need someone to drive you to the damn airport. Because if you refuse those things, you will be miserable. This is in little ways, like paying out the nose for a taxi or cooking your own meal when you're sick, or in bigger, less tangible ways like depression born from deep, deep loneliness.

And you'll find what happens when you stop keeping score is that a weight is lifted off your shoulders. Because the secret is that it always ends up even. It really does. Because you're going to go through times in your life when you are in the shit and you need all the help you can get. And then you're going to be on top of the world and your friend will be the one in the shit needing all hands on deck to help them. You can't keep it even. You just can't. But if you let go of that, you'll find that really, over time... you're all needing each other equally. Because that's what humans are. That's what community is.

The fact is we're social creatures, nonny. We are made to love.

Look at the oldest signs of civilization. It's not grand palaces. It's not war spears. It's not inventions. It's art. It's people buried with love, and with mended bones, because they broke them and their loved ones made a splint and carried them from place to place and fed them. It's baskets for holding food and gardening supplies and cooking utensils because we learned to cook for each other, to feed each other.

Civilization is community.

A lack of trust, or a lack of self-worth, did not change my need for people. Refusing to eat doesn't mean your body stops needing food. So why starve yourself? And why act as though all food is poisoned or eating enough to satisfy yourself is gluttony?

You wouldn't poison the food. You wouldn't call your friends gluttons. So don't do that to yourself.

Your friends want to help you. The world often tries to prove me wrong but I swear by every speck of boiled blood in my body and every fleck of ash in my black shriveled heart, I know people are inherently good. They want to help. They want to love. They want to take care of you.

Let them. Nonny, please let them.

Remember:

keeping score will only exhaust you

that it's impossible to keep things 100% even, but that all things are fair in the end (in a healthy relationship) because we all have our ups and downs

that if you would help anyone, anytime, then you can't deny others the opportunity to do the same

not to deny your friends their agency and choice by refusing to even ask for things.

Remember that just because you refuse to eat doesn't mean you aren't hungry.

I hope this helped. It will take time to adjust. I recommend writing down some of these reminders and putting them up around your home like on the bathroom mirror and on the fridge. Change their position or put up different phrases every so often so they don't become invisible. The more you say these things, the more you'll believe them, and the easier it'll be to act on them.

I wish you all the best.

#lincoln answers things #a lot of times I get asks that frankly are more an ask for a therapist #not because it's invasive or anything #but because in order to provide a helpful answer #I would need to know a lot more very personal information #a lot of what will help us in changing our mindsets #is dependent on what we need to unpack in our personal history #and what traumas we need to heal from #so I urge nonny and everyone else to also look into therapy #because a therapist can help you with those particular personal hang-ups #on which I am not qualified to give advice (nor should I as a stranger on the internet)#but as someone who is currently deeply struggling not to regress on years of hard work #because of her recent trauma and grief #I felt I could offer some helpful perspectives #and I hope that I could be of assistance

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rinhaler · 1 year ago

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ok but like nanami or geto fucking us in a room and gojo just goes in without knocking and sees. and it’s all awkward and he leaves but then ends up going into another room to jerk off cause it was kinda hot…

i would like to maintain that i am not a getou fucker but i hope u enjoy this nonnie :3

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, voyeurism, exhibitionism, male masturbation, vaginal sex.

words: .9k

“O-Oh, shit, Suguru… should we stop?” you pant, your boyfriend still smothering your neck in soft kisses. It’s an answer in itself, but he still feels compelled to breathe the words softly against your skin.

“No, sweetheart, he’ll be fine.” he coos, nibbling on your earlobe. Ultimately distracting you completely from the awkward encounter of being walked in on while you’re naked with Suguru’s cock balls deep in your cunt.

Satoru leans against the wall for a moment while your bare form runs rampant through his mind. The way your swollen, bitten lip fell from your teeth as you moaned while riding Suguru’s thick length.

The way skin slapping against skin filled the room as he relentlessly pounded into you. How sweaty you both appeared to be. You must have been at it for a while. And Satoru has never been so jealous.

He’d always had a thing for you, but kept it to himself out of respect for his best friend. But, fuck, that’s a hard thing to ignore. And now he’s dealing with another hard thing to ignore.

He shouldn’t.

He couldn’t.

But he finds himself instinctively walking to his own dorm room and leaning against the wall that he shares with Suguru. He can still hear you going at it. And his heart flutters.

You know how thin the walls are, and yet you’re making no effort to conceal your salacious little moans. You’re doing it for him, aren’t you? That’s what he thinks, anyway. That’s how he reasons it as he pulls off his t-shirt and throws it to the ground. His sweats come down just enough for him to grab his aching cock.

And the little hiss he emits is pornographic as he makes contact with himself. He’s so turned on, so sensitive it’s almost sore to touch himself. But he can’t help it. He needs this.

He runs his hand over his drooling cockhead and is even taken aback himself by what a mess you’ve made of him. Without even trying. His head falls back against the wall with a gentle thump as he closes his eyes and imagines he is the one fucking you right now. The way you’re trying to be quiet but failing completely as Suguru continues to fuck up into you and viciously pound against your g-spot without remorse.

It should be him.

He looks down at his cock. It’s red and throbbing with a burning desire to be stuffed inside of your precious little cunt.

“Hhng, ah! Suguru! Don’t, d-don’t stop baby.. haaah~!”

Oh, you know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you? Even if his hand wasn’t already blurring as he fucks into his fist, he’d have to after that. You want him to hear, he was right. You want him to get off to the idea of you. Of fucking you. Of being a seedy little witness to your filthy show.

You act so innocent, but you aren’t. He should have known.

It’s always precious little things like you that are the most depraved.

He doesn’t want to stop touching himself. He wants to enjoy the feeling of pleasuring himself with you at the same time forever. But he can hear your hitching breaths. The way you’re struggling to keep up with Suguru and how he has to help you even more.

He doesn’t want to stop.

But he has to cum with you.

The way Suguru tries to silence himself as he shoots his load inside of you makes him smile. Like it’s some secret that you’re fucking. It’s well past that, now. Gojo had already borne witness to your natural instincts consuming you both.

He fists his cock faster. Harder. Suguru doesn’t stop fucking you, rubbing your clit with his thumb all the while. He can hear it in your shaky breaths. You're close. You’re so fucking close.

And you’ll cum together.

How romantic.

He doesn’t hold back his own moans as he hears you succumb to your building orgasm. It’s only right that you know what you’ve done to him, he thinks. And for a moment, it goes silent, when you realise what is happening in the room next door.

You’re covering your mouth, much to Suguru’s dismay. He yanks your hand away and interlocks his fingers with yours. Still fucking his softening cock into you relentlessly.

“Don’t be shy,” he smirks, “We wanna hear your pretty moans.”

And Satoru’s cock spurts glob after glob of white, shimmering cum onto his stomach as he moans boisterously for you. Suguru really is the best friend he could ask for. He could have so easily stopped fucking you and started a fight over the fact he’s masturbating over you.

He’s generous. Sharing you and your gorgeous moans with him. He didn’t have to, of course. But Suguru knows how lucky he is to have you. He feels sorry for every other man on earth since he knows no one else can have you.

“Fuuuuuuck me.” Satoru sighs as he finishes, jerking every last drop of cum he possibly can.

“You’re welcome, Satoru,” Suguru laughs, knocking his knuckle against the wall behind him. You collapse above his body, resting your head on his shoulder as you come down from your high. “Don’t make a habit of it, though.”

“A habit?” he laughs, knowing it’s far too late for that. “Next time, I want to watch.”

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fayes-fics · 8 months ago

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What The True Poet Describes

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Having been parted for many weeks, it makes you and Benedict realise some truths…

Warnings: none… this is utter fluff. Romantic confessions and proposals.

Word Count: 1.4k

Authors Note: Anon request fill from HERE (reader returns from travel to confess her feelings for Benedict). Unbetaed. Sorry it has taken me ten months to fulfil this Nonny, but I hope you enjoy! <3

As your carriage thunders down the cobbled street of Mayfair, your stomach flutters—not from the jostling of the rough surface, but for an entirely different reason. This is a homecoming of sorts, it certainly feels too long since you were here; the sights and the smells of London so enthralling, teeming with life, such a contrast to where you have been.

But it’s not just that.

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and for you, nothing could be more apt. It’s been nine weeks, and you are positively aching inside, distance bringing clarity to your heart's true desire. You are jangling with anticipation because of your destination. Not caring a jot for judgement of your actions or any scandal that may ensue, single-minded in your mission.

As the carriage slows in front of a handsome red brick townhouse, you leap out before your footman can assist. So keen for a reunion. The front door sweeps open, and the valet requests your name. But before you can even give it, the very person you want to see materialises at the top of the staircase: so handsome it takes your breath away. His face is one of shock.

“Miss y/l/n?!?” Benedict’s baritone voice rings out in genial confusion.

“Mr Bridgerton!” your responding call an animated response, holding out your hand to him as he descends stairs quickly.

He reaches you and politely takes one of your hands, kissing your gloved knuckles, your blood flushing warm as he does.

“I have missed you!” Unable to hide the breathiness in your claim.

“I have missed you too!” He echoes, still seeming taken aback before shaking his head a fraction.“Gosh, where are my manners? Please come into the drawing room!”

He leads you there, his hold on your gloved hand respectful but firm, a warmth that stirs your belly.

“Smith, some tea, please,” he requests over his shoulder as he sees you to a seat.

“It’s rather late. Do you have anything stronger?”

His eyebrow shoots up at your perhaps cheeky query, but it's not in judgment, more surprised admiration and respect.

“Cancel that, Smith,” he calls out. “How about a brandy?” He adds quietly just for you, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You nod enthusiastically and remove your gloves as he pours two glasses from a decanter nearby.

“What brings you here so late?”

His skin touches yours briefly as he hands you the glass, a tiny frisson running down your spine.

“I have something to tell you,” you offer, slightly enigmatic. “I hope you will indulge an old friend.”

“Less of the old, please,” he jests gently, raising his glass in a silent toast.

“To good friends,” you amend, mirroring his action, then taking a sip and enjoying the fruity burn of the cognac.

“Good friends,” he echoes after a swig, then smiles at you expectantly, waiting to hear your answer to his question.

“Well, I suppose what I have to say is more of a confession…“ you admit, after another fortifying gulp, eyes downcast upon your glass as you swirl it lightly in your hand—a nervous tic. “Prussia has been nice in some ways, but there was one thing I missed so very much…”

“London?” he guesses

“Yes, but that’s not it,” you smile, looking up again.

“Parties?” he suggests next with a wink.

“Well, yes, those too,” you giggle and blush at the thought of the bohemian parties you have snuck away to in the past, one such gathering being where you met him. “But not what I’m referring to.”

“Tell me then.”

Steeling yourself, you look at him squarely,

“You, Benedict. My dearest friend. I have missed you. So very terribly,” you confess over a jagged exhale.

He looks abashed, so handsome in his modesty, a dot of colour high on his cheeks as he bows his head and looks at you through his lashes.

“And it made me realise something…”

You place aside your now empty glass. Nerves have you spring to your feet, taking a pace tentatively towards him, hands wringing.

“What?”

His question is delicate, almost gossamer, his face enrapt, looking up at you as you stand before him, ready to finally admit out loud what your heart has been screaming for many weeks now, perhaps always.

“Yours is the wise counsel that I have missed the most. My company has been sorely lacking your sparkling wit, and indeed, there are no talented wordsmiths such as yourself to be found. Especially not any with a countenance as pleasing as yours.”

He blushes deeper, the pinkness staining his cheeks, but he is also staring intently at you now, his breathing a little uneven. So you decide to be brave, to throw all caution to the wind.

“I-I like you, Benedict. So very much. So ardently,” each word a slight stumble, your whole body flushing hot as you lay bare the truth. “I-I wish to call you something infinitely more dear than a friend if you will permit it. These past few weeks have made me realise just how much I have missed you. A-And I felt compelled to rush back to tell you. To see if perhaps y-you might return my affection?” You stumble, your heart pounding wildly and loudly in your ears as you finally stop to take a breath.

He stands up now, too, his lopsided smile tender as he advances slowly toward you.

“Y/n, did you ever stop to consider why I always referred to you as one of my best friends from the very first time we met?” He asks as he draws closer; you are unable to look away, trapped under his intense gaze.

“N-No?”

“It is because yours is the company I wish for the most. Days without you were, and indeed are, so very bland. I have always wanted your wonderous spirit near me, even if it was only ever as a good friend,” his voice sounding so wistful. “You should know, however, that only scratches the surface of what I feel for you, indeed, what I have always felt for you…”

You gasp as his fingers tilt up your chin tenderly, and you find yourself lost in his eyes as he speaks again.

“You are my muse, my wonder. Your ethereal beauty has always haunted me. You fill my every thought. Being apart from you these last few weeks has been such torture.”

Your entire being feels alight, each cell an inferno, almost in disbelief that his feelings are an apparent mirror of your own.

“Perhaps what I want to say is better expressed in poetry….”

He pauses and looks deep into your eyes as if piercing to your very soul, sonorous, velvet words beginning to tumble from his lips.

“What is it truly to admire a woman?”

Already captivated by his rhetorical question, you feel yourself sway towards him.

“To look at her and feel inspiration?”

He gestures to miniature portraits of you dotted around the room, each obviously painted by his talented hand. You are temporarily dumbfounded, not even noticing them until this very moment.

A soft chuckle from him brings your focus unerringly back to his earnest, handsome face.

“To delight in her beauty?”

He touches your cheek tenderly. It feels like a searing brand mark; you cannot look anywhere but him, lips parted, breath ragged.

“So much so that all your defences crumble…”

He laces his fingers with yours as you feel a tidal wave of emotion, a tightness in your chest that is your lungs feeling barely able to breathe.

“That you would willingly take on any pain, any burden… for her….”

He brings your joined hands over his heart, trying to convey the sincerity behind his lyrical declaration as you feel your eyes mist.

“To honour her being… with your deeds and words….”

His lips brush the back of your knuckles, a wet spike of heat, and then you gasp loudly as he falls to one knee before you, his hands still clutching both of yours.

“I have missed you more than any words can ever express, y/n. I never wish to be parted from you again. I do not yet have a ring for you, but please, will you do me the very greatest honour of being my wife?”

Your world tilts at his wondrous, heartfelt proposal, ebullient joy radiating through your every pore. You begin to nod, a tear welling in the corner of your eye. Knowing there is only one word that will ever be your elated response…

“YES!!”

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @Mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @jeanfreau @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @hanji-emo-blog @Huffelpuffforlife @0x1harmonia0x1 @sya-skies @balladynaaa

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n

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ayyy-pee · 5 months ago

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kind of wanna open my requests so i can flex my brain a lil bit. yall send me something to write! sldkfjksd PLSSSSSSSSS

Hi Lexi!! How’re you?? 🥹💕

Could I possible request… some fluffy dad Suguru content? 🥹🥹 I just… think he’s such a sweet dad ❤️ And so caring and adoring 🫶

Nonnie, I'm SO late answering this!! I'm doing well! I hope you are too!! I hope you enjoy this because fluffy dad Suguru also makes me meltttt. He is just such a perfect dad fr I hope you enjoy this and thank you for the request! ❤️

Discord 18+ - Twitter - JJK Masterlist

The first time Suguru holds his daughter, he is bewildered. The shock of watching her enter the world through you has not yet worn off and his mind is in overdrive. While the doctors and nurses work to ensure you’re healthy and in good condition, he’s handed this tiny human to care for in the meantime. And he has no clue where to start.

He simply watches her at first, amazed at how quiet she is, how her tiny hands are curled into fists and tucked under her chin. How her tiny chest rises and falls with calm breaths. And he’s amazed at how quiet you are, too. The baby’s entrance into the world was an emotional one for you both, Suguru holding your hand tightly as you pushed yourself to the brink of exhaustion to bring life into this world. You’re lying in bed with your eyes closed as you catch your breath and Suguru can’t help but stare at both you and your daughter.

She looks like you, he thinks. As she dozes in his embrace, he sees the uncanny resemblance. She has your best features – your nose, your cute pout, she even has a tuft of hair sitting atop her head that Suguru is certain will one day match your color and texture. He begins to wonder if he was even in the room when she came to be. This baby is all you.

But, he supposes he’s lucky. He can’t be unhappy about that. You’re wondrous. Even as you lie exhausted and sweaty, Suguru finds you to be the most ethereal being he’s ever seen. Strong, too. He’s certain he doesn’t know a single person in the world that is stronger than you right now. He definitely doesn’t know anyone as generous as you. To gift him something so extraordinary. He’s not sure he could ever express his gratitude.

The first tiny hiccup Suguru hears from his child makes him stand straighter, eyes wide as he peers down at her. And then another hiccup happens, followed by rapid breaths, a little pouty mouth that opens to let out quiet sobs. He looks at you in panic, but you meet his fear with a gentle expression on your face. One that holds encouragement, because you know that he needs it. You know he’s never seen himself as a father, never been confident in being one.

You know that he’s scared.

But you give him the boost he needs, gently rocking his baby in his arms, cooing softly. It’s like instinct kicking in. “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you.” He bounces the newborn, slowly walking around the hospital room as he tries to calm the baby. The cries quiet down gradually, the tight expression on her little face softening. “I’m here. Daddy’s here.”

And his heart swells as the cries stop, as her face relaxes, as his words comfort his child enough that she opens her eyes for the first time since coming into the world. She peers up, and Suguru stands still, heart nearly stopping when he sees violet eyes exactly like his own staring back at him. It’s the only thing it seems he’d passed on to her.

You are perfect. So incredibly perfect. He can’t believe what he’s seeing, that he’s holding such magnificence in his arms.

“See?” You call quietly to him from your bed. The doctor and nurses have given you the green light, letting you know they will be back to check on you soon. So it’s just you, him and the tiny world you’ve created together in Suguru’s embrace. Your eyes light up from across the room, guiding Suguru to your bedside where you smile softly as he leans forward to hand you the baby. “You’re already such a good dad. Himari is so lucky to have you.”

- - Six Years Later

“Daddy, hurry up!”

“Hold on! I need to fix my hair! Almost done!”

“Ooh! I wanna help!”

A quiet chuckle can be heard from behind Suguru as he sits in front of the vanity in the bathroom. You’re brushing through his hair, which has grown exponentially over the years. As you stroke through the strands, Suguru hums softly, a small smile curling on his lips when he hears the tiny footsteps slapping against the hardwood floors.

“She’s coming,” you tease, a sing-song lilt in your voice. You set the brush down on the vanity, stepping aside carefully as Suguru stands. He takes your hand in his, pulling you close. Well, as close as he can. Your round belly keeps him from being able to fully hold you. You’re due to give birth to your son any day now, and while Suguru begged for you to rest while he got dressed for tonight, you’d insisted on taking part in the festivities.

“Absolutely not! I want you both to look your best so I can get pictures!” You’d argued earlier, stubborn as ever.

“Oh, so you don’t think I could get Himari ready on my own?” Suguru asked, feigning offense and you scoff.

“No. Move.” You pushed past him, earning a hearty laugh from your husband. He loved your little attitude. He loved it even more when you were pregnant. It was so cute watching you waddle into the bathroom, starting the shower and barking at Suguru to wash his hair so you could style it. While he finished his shower, you got Himari ready, only returning when she was busy playing with her toys while waiting.

“Were the curls necessary?” Suguru asks, glancing at his reflection. You stand on the tips of your toes, attempting to press a sweet kiss to his cheek, only for Suguru to quickly turn his head and steal a kiss from your lips instead. You can’t help but grin.

“Stop it. I think you look –”

A loud squeal cuts through the atmosphere and you both snap your heads towards the sounds where Himari stands in the doorway of the bathroom. “Oh my gosh!! Daddy, you look so cute!!!” Your daughter claps her tiny hands, bouncing up and down.

You watch with hardly concealed amusement as she closes the gap between you three and Suguru kneels to her level immediately, forgetting all about you. “Not as cute as you, Hima.” He winks, taking Himari’s hand in his and twirling her around to take in her powder pink princess dress. Suguru wears the same colored shirt, insisting he match his baby from head to toe.

It’s adorable, because as the years have passed, any similarities Himari once shared with you have slowly disappeared. She’s practically a carbon copy of your husband – his eye shape and color, his nose and lips. Even her personality is the same as his, which is clear in the way they’re now bickering back and forth.

“Please, Daddy, pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseeeee–” your daughter whines, violet eyes wide as she juts her bottom lip out to pout.

“Please, what?” You question, glancing between the two. Suguru rolls his eyes, rising to his feet.

“She wants to put bows in my hair,” your husband mutters. You burst into a fit of giggles because you know exactly what’s going to happen next.

“What color, Hima?” Suguru asks her, moving past you to find the hair accessory drawer you keep on the bathroom shelves for your little girl.

Just what you knew would happen. What Himari wants, Himari gets. Especially when it comes to Suguru. He has said no to his daughter maybe three times in her entire six years of life. Your daughter folds her arms across her chest, closing her eyes and knitting her brows together in concentration (because this question is so very important) and God, she looks so much like her father it almost makes you emotional. Your hands find your belly, rubbing soothing circles over the soon to be new addition to the family as you observe your husband kneeling down again with the blue and purple bows that your daughter chose for him.

Himari tucks Suguru’s hair behind his ears, holding it in place by clipping a blue bow on one side and a purple bow on the other. Then Suguru does the same to hers – one blue and one purple bow to match his. He then lifts her, holding her tightly as Himari wraps her arms around his neck.

“Ready, Mommy!” They announce in unison.

- - - - - - - -

“Promise to take lots of pictures, Sugu,” you nag as your husband guides you slowly and carefully down the stairs. Himari waits impatiently at the bottom of the steps.

“Yeah, yeah. I will.”

“Suguru, I’m serious!”

He laughs, amused by the way you’re frowning. He won’t lie, everything you do while pregnant is adorable to him. He knows he shouldn’t go out of his way to annoy you, but you’re so cute and round with his baby, he can’t help it! “Yes, I know, love. I’ll take a lot of pictures.”

“Okay, good. Pictures of both of you, too. So I can frame them.”

“Yesssss, okay.”

Suguru helps you off down the last step, hands finding your belly and rubbing gentle circles. Your son kicks at his palms and he can’t help but feel his heart swell with pride. He can’t wait to hold his son the same way he held his daughter soon. Your sighing pulls Suguru from his daydreams, and he sees you staring up the staircase because he knows you likely won’t have the energy to try and get back up the stairs while he’s out. You’ll probably sleep on the sofa until he’s back and able to help you get up to bed safely. It’s become sort of a routine in these last few weeks.

Suguru leans down and places a kiss to the top of your head, a promise that he’ll take care of you when he gets home. He turns his attention to his eager daughter.

“Ready to go, Princess?”

She nods excitedly.

“Wait!” You exclaim. “Let me get a picture before you leave!”

“Babe, we’re going to be late…” Suguru groans, scooping Himari into his arms.

You roll your eyes, lifting your phone anyway. “Don’t care, smile!”

Himari beams, Suguru grins and again…twins. You snap a few photos, knowing it will only take Himari only a few seconds before her cute smile morphs into an expression that looks like she’s in pain.

“Okay!” Satisfied with your pictures, you hurry over to your husband, kissing your daughter’s cheek before Suguru gives you a quick peck on the lips. “I love you both so much. Have fun, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy!” Hima agrees, nodding with determination.

“We will, baby. I love you. Get off your feet and rest, please,” Suguru chides. “Call me if you need me. If you can’t reach me, call Satoru or Shoko, okay?”

“I will,” you reassure him, because beneath his calm request, you can hear the apprehension in his voice. These days, he’s hesitant to leave you alone for too long in case you go into labor while he’s gone. But this night is important to Himari, and with a little (a lot) of pushing, you’d finally convinced him to go.

You wave goodbye to your husband and daughter as they head out of the front door for the night. And maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones, but as you take a seat on the couch and pull up social media to share the photo of your husband and daughter, tears begin to fall.

Himari has grown so much, and you are proud of the young girl she’s becoming. You wouldn’t be able to do this without the man who has been there with you through it all. You are so lucky to have Suguru – as a husband, as the father of your children. You can hardly believe there was ever a time where he doubted that he would excel at being a dad. These pictures are evidence enough that he was always going to be the best dad he could be. He would do anything for you, your daughter, for you, your son, your family.

With one hand you rub your belly, you sniffle quietly as you speak, “I can’t wait to take pictures like this with you, my sweet Yori…”

You hit ‘Send’ on your post, the photo of Suguru and Himari with matching outfits, matching hairbows, and matching smiles uploading with the caption: “Look at my cuties! Baby’s first Daddy-Daughter dance! ❤️”

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honest-moth-of-silver-grove · 9 months ago

Note

Hc for Halsin, Astarion, Will, Gortash, (& maybe Damon and Raphael) caring for a loved one with chronic illness or like an illness that keeps them bedbound for an extended time

A/N: Oh Nonnie, do I feel this ask lol. Chronic fatigue sucks, mainly because so few people don’t understand it goes beyond being just ‘tired’. There’s brain fog, stomach issues, and body pains– so I tried to touch on each of these symptom types for each character response. However you’re doing, whether you’re in a flare or not, I want you to know your illness is not your fault. You didn't ask for this. Don’t feel guilty for having to take care of yourself. You’re worth it. I promise.

Also, this is unrelated but it’s lowkey funny that the week after I got diagnosed with a weird anemia, I write an answer for an ask about chronic fatigue. lol

TW: Mention of Chronic Fatigue/Pain, Brief Mentions of Sex

🤕 BG3 Men Caring for a Gender Neutral! Loved One With Chronic Illness ��

Astarion:

Worries. Like A LOT.

Tells you not to be so dramatic about it but will literally sprint towards you if he even hears you sigh.

He asks Karlach to carry you.

Steals somebody’s cart/chariot if she refuses and instead makes her and Shadowheart take turns pulling that. (Jokes on him, they do it because they’re your friend, not his lol.)

Has you come on missions because he feels more secure knowing you’re right behind him, and he can keep looking after you. Astarion makes sure to always sneak ahead so you never walk unknowingly into any danger

Will give you massages if you’re in pain frequently, especially shoulder rubs, as he loves the view it gives him of your pretty neck.

Speaking of necks, feeding is a huge no-no. At least, until you start feeling a bit better. And then he’ll only allow himself a taste. Gods knows you need all your strength, and he would feel terribly guilty to take what little you have from you.

Lowkey appreciates the bags under your eyes and the way you can look like death incarnate, because well, then he doesn’t stand out as much. He also finds it strangely alluring, how you can look so fragile yet be so strong. It inspires him to find that balance within himself if he’s being honest.

If you have trouble ‘performing’ due to your illness, he’s not upset at all! (He’s actually quite relieved.)

Loves finding other ways you can be intimate together, like going to a spa and sharing a bath. Or finding a highly-rated inn and cuddling under some luxurious silk sheets.

Turns out that after a lifetime of being forced to do things, Astarions is more than happy to spend his time doing nothing with you.

Wyll:

Is so sweet and tender when he speaks to you.

He’s literally Prince Charming, which makes you his Sleeping Beauty.

On your good days, he’ll have you stand on his feet as he twirls you around, finding this the best way to ‘dance’ with you, given your current stamina.

Requests for you to stay back at camp and rest while he and a few of the others handle the more taxing and dangerous missions. Gifts you some books and journals of his to keep you occupied in the meantime.

When he comes back to camp, the first thing he does is check on you. If you’re awake, he’ll make sure your needs are met before tending to his own. Doesn’t matter if Wyll’s starving and covered in guts, if you need a drink or an extra blanket, just say the word and he will fetch it immediately.

Will recite poetry to you on the bad pain nights when you cannot sleep because everything aches too much. He knows his voice won’t stop the pain, but he hopes it provides a soothing atmosphere to just rest in, even if sleep cannot find you.

Is always so tender and gentle in his lovemaking, that it’s rarely an issue for you. However, on the nights that it is, don’t feel bad at all. Wyll adores you for much more than your body. He loves your mind, your heart, and your soul. Just being near you, knowing you love him back is more than enough.

Halsin:

Is always prepared with some medicinal herbs or a healing spell.

He’s a natural caretaker, and you are no exception. However, when it comes to you, Halsin does approach the act a little bit differently.

It’s much more personal when he makes you health potions or casts spells to heal you, you can see it in his eyes. In a way, it’s as if your pain has become his pain, and he needs the relief just as much as you.

As long as you give your consent, Halsin prefers to have you touching him. Be it laying on top of his chest, or seated on his lap, he always wants his skin against yours, as if his touch alone could shield you from your illness. You find it rather sweet of him.

He pleads for you to stay behind in camp, or the grove- somewhere that is not the center of the action. He wishes for you to remain out of the fray, fearful that in your condition, fighters with less honor than he would take advantage of your vulnerability.

If you need to be in a house with a room, and not camped out in the woods, he understands, although it may frustrate him a bit. He believes nature is the perfect healing environment, but he also trusts that you know your illness better than anyone. After all, you’ve managed it all these years. So instead, he simply brings nature to you.

Haslin decorates your bedroom with plants, trees, and succulents. If you’re allergic, he enchants them to reduce their pollen production.

Halsin understands he is rather large in the ‘down there’ department. If you cannot have traditional sex with him, it’s not a surprise to him. He knows more than one way to please his partner. He’s very giving and seems to get off on your pleasure more than his own at times.

Halsin thinks you are one of the most beautiful gifts of nature. Your illness is just another part of you, and because it’s a part of you, he thinks it’s beautiful as well. You may resent it, but Halsin could never separate that part from you and hate it. He simply loves the whole of you too much to do that.

Dammon:

Oh my god, he’s such a sweetheart.

But also a low-key tease.

He has no issues getting or reaching things for you, but he does have a mischievous side, so be prepared for him to hold your things hostage, in exchange for a kiss or two.

Has a habit of finding you curled up in bed on your worst pain/fatigue days and peppering you with kisses, and won’t stop until you laugh.

Forges special mobility aids! Do you need help walking? Pfft. Not a problem. Dammon’s an incredible blacksmith, and he can make you armor that helps stabilize you. You know those really cool joint support braces you can get on Etsy and stuff? Yeah, he makes you DOZENS of them, all in different metals and designs, to match your mood/outfit for the day.

While on the road, or in the grove, he always ensures you’re armed with some sort of easily gripped knife or sword, just in case anyone attacks. He does his best to keep you close, never walking too far ahead or behind, but you having that extra layer of protection makes him feel all the more reassured.

He's not a fighter, but years of working in the forge have made his arms and back strong. He swears he will do everything he can to protect you, that no harm will come to you so long as you stay close.

Is so relieved when you make it to the city at last. He’s so grateful that he can finally provide a real room and bed for you. He feels as if the entire journey has been worth it now that you’ll be able to rest and heal as you need, in the kind of safe and stable conditions you deserve.

Comes in from a long, sweaty day of working in the forge, but immediately sets his sights on taking care of you. Draws a bath but insists you bathe first, as the water won’t be full of grime and ash after he bathes.

Is always surprised and very flattered when you tug him in with you, still touched by your affection for him, as if you’ve just met for the first time. Dammon’s still a little shocked that out of everyone, you chose him. (Ironically, you feel the same. You’re a perfect match!)

Insists on taking the lead during more intimate moments, and to make sure you just lay back and let him do all the work, introduces soft silk ties for your hands and ankles for whenever you feel like indulging in that kink with him.

Gortash:

Spoils you rotten.

No, really.

Part of the highlight of being a Lord, soon-to-be Duke, is that he has the power to make all the other people do things for him. And no task is too costly or requires too much manpower so long as it means you’re taken care of.

Buys the most lavish sheets and sleep sets for you. He wants you to be comfortable, the both of you deserve nothing but the best, after all.

Assigns around-the-clock healers to you 24/7. They are always in your home, on-call, awaiting your request for relief. He wants every measure of treatment and remedy explored. If there’s a spell or herb that can reduce your pain, then you shall have it.

Enjoys any downtime he has with you. Has his staff put a special chaise lounge in his office so you can visit him when he’s working.

Gortash is so used to putting up fronts for everyone else, that it’s nice to let his guard down around you. You don’t judge him, or think less of him for his ambitions. Other people would run if they learned the truth, but not you. No, you’re so much more special than that.

Of course, whenever you go out, you have your own guards and steel watch keeping you safe from anyone who’d wish to harm either you or him. All the other Lords and Ladies of Baldur’s Gate don’t dare say a mean word about you or your abilities, lest they wish to face the wrath of a peeved Gortash.

As an inventor, Gortash invents the very first automatic, steampunk-esque wheelchair for you. It’s powered in the same way his Steel Watch is, and it is uniquely one-of-a-kind, tailor-made just for you.

You know how in the game it’s hinted that Gortash basically stole and fucked his way into the high society of Baldur’s Gate? That many of the widowed Ladies gifted him lavish presents (like the deeds to their house?!) in response to whatever ‘relationship’ he had with them? Yeah. The man knows what he’s doing. And he does it well.

Your fitness level is no concern to him. The both of you will enjoy yourselves. He learns how to play the erogenous zones of your body perfectly, and in the event you’re too exhausted to play his, he has some, shall we say, special toys, he’s created just for himself. Course, should you ever ask, he’s more than willing to share them with you. ;)

Raphael:

Switches between pampering you to badgering you about it.

When he’s feeling particularly generous, he makes a point to overindulge you, making sure you’re aware of how unselfish he’s being at the time.

He’ll make sure you have not only whatever you need, but also, anything you should want. As a devil, he does have some magic up his sleeve, ready to take care of various aches and pains that you feel.

Ensures no other beings in the House of Hope lay a finger on you. No, that’s a privilege for him and him alone.

Of course, such benevolence from him comes at a price, so don’t expect the luxury to come freely, without strings attached.

After he feels you’ve rested enough, he switches from being overly doting to being more curt, and even a bit cruel.

You honestly don’t expect him to let you lounge all day, do you? Surely there’s a way you could make yourself useful to him. Your attention, your company, your body… there must be something of interest to him at the moment. Of course, Raphael won’t tell you outright what he wants, you have to figure it out for yourself each and every time.

More than anything Raphael loves your adoration, your attention. Just sit with him in his office as he reads over the various contracts he has binding any number of sorry souls. Ask him questions, praise him. Tell him you think he’s brilliant… Darling just worship him.

And after his ego’s been satisfied, he’ll go back to worshiping you. Relationships are all give and take after all.

(And don’t worry if you’re too tired or in too much pain to perform well in bed. He’s certainly no good at it either lol.)

#bg3 x reader #bg3 imagine #baldurs gate 3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 imagine #bg3 imagines #astarion x reader #wyll x reader #halsin x reader #dammon x reader #gortash x reader #raphael bg3 #raphael x reader #bg3 #hc

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darling-im-wonderstruck · 1 year ago

Note

could you write something where peter and reader are having a study date, but peter falls asleep and reader just lets him be/tucks him in?? tysm

don’t want to miss a thing.

synopsis : getting peter to sleep wasn’t going to be as difficult as you’d thought.

pairing : bf!peter parker x reader

wc : 490 +

warnings : none ! super fluffy sleepy!peter is all you need to worry about :) (normal sized text belowww + this is college!peter)

‎‎ masterlist | request | navigation

a/n : hi nonnie !! thank you so so much for this request <3 i actually whipped this one up pretty quickly because of the rush of inspiration your request gave me hehe :) hope you enjoy it !

it was nearly midnight when you started to notice peter’s eyelids practically begging to fall, his head was inching closer and closer to the surface of your desk. which, admittedly, was somewhat adorable. he’d been like this for the past hour, though it was getting progressively worse every passing minute.

you were in your room, catching up on some studies alongside peter. the boy found every single excuse to be with you, and when you said that you didn’t have time (due to your need to study), he came up with the perfect compromise. a study date.

though, by the time he’d come back from patrolling, it was already 10 pm, and naturally, he was exhausted. but you knew peter, therefore, you knew he was going to put up a fight rather than accepting defeat and falling asleep.

“pete, you look like you’re about to pass out.” you say softly, causing him to whip his head to your direction.

“no, no, no, no. i’m wide awake!” he shoots himself up, making you let out a small laugh, causing the tenseness of his body to disappear. your laugh comforted him.

“i think you need some rest. c’mon, this can wait.” you stood up and gestured for him to go to your bed, but he shakes his head.

“‘m okay, really.” his attempt to assure you was failing, given that he was falling asleep as he said that very sentence.

“you’re so cute when you’re tired.” you smile at him, he returned it with a lazy smile and continued to attempt answering a few practice questions on his worksheet.

“you think so?” he has a smug smirk on his face. gosh. you couldn’t help but giggle.

“just tell me when you wanna call it a day, okay?” you say as you sat back down beside him and continued your work.

“talk to me? tell me about your day, that’ll help keep me up.” he asks, keeping himself focused on his work.

“oh! okay then! well, after class, while you were out, i ended up coming over and talking to may, and she showed me a bunch of your baby photos, which, might i say, were so cute.” peter sat closer to you, and you thought nothing of it as you continued talking.

“mhm…” his responses became increasingly incoherent as you continued talking about what aunt may had told you. he was falling asleep before he began to realize it.

“so then, i asked may- oh, you’re asleep.” your voice starts with its normal volume and you quiet down as you realize.

oh.

he’d found a comfortable spot on your shoulder as you were talking and slowly began to drift off. you observed a small, barely there smile that he had as he slept. his arms were rested around your waist and his face was buried into the crook of you neck. he was finally relaxed.

you found it increasingly difficult to move at all, in fear of him waking up, so you decided that it’d be good for you to get some rest as well.

you press a soft kiss on his cheek (and you may or may not have taken a quick photo of him for your wallpaper) before resting your head gently on his, but you felt him move ever so slightly, so you lift your head up, and so did he.

all he did was smile at you, and you did the same, right before he rubbed his eyes and rested himself onto your shoulder yet again.

work could wait, this, however, couldn’t.

taglist : (send me an ask to be added hehe !) @live-laugh-lovejoy

a/n : thank you for reading loves !!!! requests are open, as per usual, pls just be patient w me, feel free to reblog as it is very important to support writers <3

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navybrat817 · 9 months ago

Note

I saw an Instagram reel - https://www.instagram.com/reel/C2H-mV3y2ng/?igsh=dHNlYWl2N3RpbWdz - that immediately made me think of Stud and Smartie! They’re one of my favorite pairings that you write about and I can never get enough of their story, they are perfect for each other! 🥰❤️

I hope you have a good weekend, Navy 🥰

I love this, nonnie, and it's very Stud and Smartie coded!

Just Because

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky gets you a card just because.

Word Count: Over 1k

Warnings: Fluff, established relationship, inner monologue, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Lovelies, your girl is worn out, but I hope you enjoy this Stud and Smartie ficlet. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You yawned as you let yourself into the apartment, but quickly smiled when Alpine and Soot rushed to see you at the door. They brushed against both of your legs once you got your shoes off and set your keys down, your smile widening when they purred. You half expected Bucky to call out to you or make a joke that the cats were crowding his girl, but all that greeted you was silence.

No music, no television, nothing.

“Honey, I’m home!” You called out, frowning when Bucky didn't answer. “Where is he, huh? Is he taking a nap?” You asked, crouching down so Alpine could rub her head against your hand. Soot patiently waited until she was done for his turn. Like Bucky, he was crazy about his other half. You were convinced that was the case.

Okay, but if he’s actually taking a nap, I’m crawling into bed with him because I deserve all the naps and cuddles and orgasms. I mean, it’s not like I did anything extremely worthy of those things today, but adulting is hard, so I actually really do deserve love and warmth and hot sex.

You ceased the ramblings in your head as you headed toward your room to get into something comfortable that you didn't plan to be in for long. You felt your heart jump when you saw an envelope taped to your door, a smile spreading across your face when you recognized Bucky’s handwriting. It had to be something special or important, otherwise it would've been a post-it note.

But what is it?

You lightly bounced on your feet as you carefully took the envelope from the door. Part of you hoped it was not the first clue to a scavenger hunt. Not that you wouldn't enjoy that, but you wanted to set something like that up for him as a birthday surprise. Or a romantic gesture.

He deserves it.

Happiness bloomed inside you when you opened the card. It was reminiscent of the puzzle he had made for you when he revealed his feelings to you, the different pieces creating a heart. There was even a smaller envelope that held the “missing piece” for you to finish it.

YOU COMPLETE ME.

You thought your heart would burst from how full it was.

Gasping when you felt a warm, familiar chest against your back, you smiled as Bucky pulled you back against him by the hip. “This is beautiful. What’s the occasion?”

It isn't our anniversary. Not my birthday. Already engaged. Wait, was it the first time we made a pizza together? Is it the anniversary from the first time I blew him?

Bucky chuckled as if he read your mind. “I’m glad you like it. And there’s no occasion for it.”

“Okay then,” you said, whining when he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “So, why get me such a nice card then?”

It was a sweet gesture. One he clearly put some thought into since the card looked homemade. You'd have to get it framed.

“I got it for you just because I was thinking of you. I got it just because,” he said against your ear, making you shiver. “Because I love you, Smartie.”

He is the most romantic, perfect man and I will not burst into tears. I won't.

You turned in Bucky’s arms so you could face him, taking care not to drop the card as you put your hands around his neck. Tears sprang to your eyes anyway when he smiled and nuzzled his nose against yours. Love was in the small things and he reminded you of that every day.

“I love you, too, Stud,” you whispered, watching his blue eyes soften at your words. “Thank you.”

He leaned in for a kiss, your heart aching from how tender it was. “I’m glad you liked it. Otherwise, I would've had to make you fall in love with me all over again.”

You giggled as he kissed the tip of your nose. “Bucky, we’re engaged. I’m very much in love with you,” you reminded him.

Always will be.

“Yeah, my ploy worked,” he smirked at you. “I got you to move in with me.”

“You had a cheap room and a nice cat,” you deadpanned. Both things were true, but they were bonuses compared to the amazing package of a man holding you.

“And I made you fall in love with me.”

Cocky, but true.

“It’s because you're adorable,” you said with a tilt of your head.

Yes, my beefy fiance is adorable and easy to love.

“I try to be,” he said, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Don't want some book boyfriend taking my place.”

“A book boyfriend wouldn't get me the best puzzle or cards,” you said, though you did enjoy how he acted the last time he got jealous of you reading a romance novel. “Or take a nap and cuddle with me.”

He trailed kisses over to your ear. “Or give you orgasms.”

How did he know I was thinking that?

“You are welcome to take me to bed then,” you said, still a bit surprised at yourself for not jumping on him over the sweet card. But you stopped him when he reached past you to open your door. “Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“These ‘just because’ gestures? And every gift you’ve given me? They really mean so much to me,” you said, hoping he understood how much you appreciated them and him.

You still couldn't believe some days that he was real and in love with you.

He swallowed before he spoke in a quiet tone. “You deserve the entire world and I just wish I could give it to you.”

“You already have,” you promised, pulling him against you this time so you could kiss him.

Bucky had given you everything you could ever dream of by loving and believing in you. And you would get him the perfect gift as soon as you could. Something that said you were thinking of him. Something just because.

Because you loved him.

They bring me such comfort. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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violettwrites · 2 months ago

Text

in the arms of the broken — daryl dixon

a/n: to the dear nonnie that requested this 🫶🏻 thank u sm i absolutely adored writing this (i rly should be sleeping but i can’t so here i am) i hope you enjoy !!

if you enjoyed reading this, please support me by giving me a like, reblog, and/or comment ! don’t forget to follow me either if you want to read more of my stuff !

request: anon said — “i also like the dialogue prompt ‘i don’t know… i’ve never seen her like this’ that tugs at the heart strings”

summary: reader cannot cope with the way the world has become, during a particularly hard night for themselves, daryl dixon is the one to comfort them.

warnings: angst/sadness ,,, thats it rly

word count: 1,241

recourses: divider by @adornedwithlight

➵ tp!daryl masterlist

➵ regular masterlist

here is my ask box !

the night was quiet except for the crackle of the fire, but it felt wrong—like the world had gone still, holding its breath. you sat by the flames, knees drawn to your chest, staring blankly into the flickering light. the heat touched your skin, but it didn’t reach you, didn’t chase away the cold that had settled deep inside.

daryl watched you from a distance, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest. he’d been keeping an eye on you for days, noticing the way you’d been pulling away from everyone, isolating yourself. you’d always been strong, always held it together for the sake of the group, but something was different now. something had changed, and it scared him. you were like a shadow of yourself, your spirit drained, your eyes distant.

rick approached him, eyes flicking over to you before meeting daryl’s. “how’s she holdin’ up?”

daryl didn’t answer right away, his jaw tightening as he watched the way you sat so still, your body hunched like the weight of everything had finally become too much to carry. he shook his head, his voice quiet and rough. “i don’t know… i’ve never seen her like this.”

rick nodded, his expression grim. “she’s been through a lot. more than most of us. maybe she just needs some time.”

rick can recall the first time they found you, smack bang in the middle of atlanta, all alone. you were covered in blood and guts, and if he hadn’t actually heard how you begged for help when he saw you, your voice barely audible, he honestly would have thought you were just another walker.

“time ain’t gonna fix what’s broken,” daryl muttered under his breath, the frustration simmering beneath his skin. time wasn’t enough when you were drowning, when you couldn’t see a way out of the darkness. and he hated that he didn’t know how to pull you out.

rick gave him a look, one that said everything he didn’t need to say out loud. “you’re the one she’ll listen to, daryl. talk to her.”

daryl stood there a moment longer, watching the way you curled into yourself, like you were trying to disappear. every instinct in him told him to go to you, but he hesitated, unsure if his words would even matter. still, he couldn’t just leave you like this.

he finally pushed off the tree and walked over, his boots crunching softly against the dirt. he lowered himself to the ground beside you, sitting close enough that you could feel his presence, but not so close that he’d crowd you.

for a while, neither of you said anything. the fire crackled between you, the only sound breaking the silence of the night. daryl wasn’t sure how to start, wasn’t good with words even on the best of days. but he knew you, and he knew the way you got when things started to spiral out of control in your head.

“you don’t gotta shut us out, y’know,” he finally said, his voice gruff but soft. “we’re all here for ya.”

you didn’t respond at first, your eyes still fixed on the flames like they held some kind of answer you were searching for. after a long moment, you sighed, your voice barely a whisper. “i’m tired, daryl.”

those words hit him like a punch to the gut. he’d seen people break before, seen the way this world could wear someone down until there was nothing left. but hearing you say it, seeing you like this—it scared him more than he wanted to admit.

“i know,” he said quietly. “we all are. but we’re still fightin’. you’re still fightin’.”

you shook your head, your voice trembling as you spoke. “i don’t know if i can anymore. every day feels like it’s getting harder. like… like i’m losing pieces of myself.”

daryl’s chest tightened. he’d always admired your strength, the way you kept going no matter how hard things got. but now, hearing you say you were falling apart—it made him realize just how much he hadn’t noticed.

“you ain’t losin’ yourself,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “you’re still here. we’re still here.”

you swallowed hard, tears brimming in your eyes. “i feel like i’m drowning. like no matter what i do, it’s never enough. i can’t save everyone, daryl.”

that was it, wasn’t it? the burden you carried, the weight of trying to protect everyone, to hold the group together when everything was falling apart. it was breaking you.

daryl shifted closer, his hand reaching out to rest on your arm, hesitant at first, but firm once it was there. “you don’t gotta save everyone. that ain’t on you.”

your voice cracked as you spoke, the tears spilling over now. “but if i don’t… who will?”

daryl’s heart clenched at the raw pain in your voice. he wished he had the right words, wished he could take that weight off your shoulders. but he knew he couldn’t fix everything. what he could do, though, was remind you that you weren’t alone.

“you don’t have to,” he said, his thumb gently brushing your arm in a way that was more comforting than he realized. “we’re all in this together. you ain’t gotta carry the world by yourself.”

you turned to look at him, and the vulnerability in your eyes nearly broke him. he wasn’t used to seeing you like this, so lost and fragile. he hated it. he hated that you felt like you had to carry the world alone, that you felt like you were drowning.

“i don’t know how to stop feeling like this,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “everything feels so heavy.”

daryl swallowed hard, his own heart aching at how much pain you were in. he didn’t know how to take that pain away, but he could be there for you. he could be the one thing you could hold on to when everything else felt like it was slipping away.

“you ain’t alone,” he said, his voice low but steady. “you got me. no matter what, you got me.”

you looked at him then, really looked at him, and for the first time in days, you felt like you could breathe just a little easier. his words were simple, but they grounded you. daryl had always been your anchor, and in this moment, you needed him more than ever.

without thinking, you leaned into him, your forehead resting against his shoulder as the tears came harder, your body shaking with the force of them. daryl didn’t hesitate. he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back.

“let it out,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “it’s okay. i got ya.”

and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself fall apart. you let the tears come, let the pain you’d been holding in for so long spill out. daryl didn’t say anything more, didn’t need to. he just held you, his presence steady and unwavering, letting you know without words that you didn’t have to carry this burden alone.

the fire crackled softly beside you, but the world felt a little less cold with daryl holding you. you weren’t okay. you weren’t sure when—or if—you’d ever be okay again. but for now, in his arms, you felt like you didn’t have to be.

and maybe that was enough.

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 5 months ago

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Could you please do 14 with art from the comfort prompts? Maybe handjobs while he has his back to the reader if things get spicy 🤭🤭

Anyways, your fics never fail to amaze me! Always look forward to reading them💗💗

I'm getting the sense y'all would like me to write #14 from the comfort prompts with Art Donaldson 🤔

Also thanks, nonnies!!

Warnings: Fluff, handyj's, subby Art Donaldson, praise kink, smattering of dirty talk, established relationship

"In here!" You called out. You listened as Art's footsteps grew closer, and your brows furrowed as you heard him slow just outside.

"It's okay, you can open the door."

Art seemed a little perplexed by how dim the bathroom was, but as he spotted the candles you'd put around your jacuzzi tub and the glass of wine on the side table, it all seemed to fall into place.

"How was your—What are you doing?" You laughed as Art began to strip off.

"What does it look like?"

Your eyes drifted down over his muscled chest, lip drawing between your teeth as he shoved his pants and underwear down around his ankles before kicking them off. You grinned, scooching back against the tub as Art climbed in in front of you. He groaned as he settled in, cradled against you.

"Comfortable?" You teased, brushing your lips against his temple.

"Very."

You curled your arms around his shoulders, closing your eyes as you savored the peace of his body pressed against yours.

"How was practice?"

The question hung in the air for a few moments. Art shifted a little, raising his hands and trailing gently over your bent knees.

"...Art?" You pressed.

"I don't wanna talk about practice."

It wasn't the answer you were hoping for. It wasn't Art's first career slump, likely wouldn't be the last—but you knew better than to remind him of that.

"I wanna talk about you," He added, tipping his head back to get a look at you. "Feel like I've barely seen you the last few days."

"We've been busy."

He craned his neck, pressing a kiss to your jaw. "Tell me about your day."

"It was fine, boring. The usual."

"What's the usual?"

"Art."

"Please?" He urged again, taking your hands in his and intertwining your fingers. He raised one to his lips before resting it over his heart. "I've missed your voice."

You smiled as he snuggled closer, the water swirling around the two of you.

"Well...I woke up around seven. You'd already left, obviously."

"Mm."

"I had breakfast, got dressed, sat down at my desk and worked all day."

"You stop for lunch at least?"

"I didn't have time."

"Baby."

"I know, I know," You sighed. "Things just kept coming up and before I knew it, it was 6:30."

"Explains the wine."

"Yes it does." You untangled one of your hands to reach up, gently combing through his hair. "Want some?"

"Not right now."

"...You're too wound up, you know."

Art sighed heavily, head flopping back against your shoulder again. You took in his closed eyes, his slightly pinched expression.

"You are," You insisted, lowering your hand from his hair. You trailed your nails over his shoulder, down past your joined hands on his chest. "I know you need something to get you going on the court, but having your gut all tight like this makes you all..." You slid your hand beneath the water, trailing along his inner thigh. "Stiff. And not in the fun way."

Art smiled, huffing a laugh. "Is that so?"

"Mhm. You need to relax."

"Any suggestions on how I might do that?"

"Well, I'm no tennis coach..." You curled your fingers around his shaft, smiling as he pulled a stunned breath in. "So my ideas may be a little...Rudimentary."

You stroked him gently, shushing him softly as he whined, pushing up into your touch. You grasped him a little more firmly, moving in long, even strokes as you felt him hardening in your touch. Art turned his head, mouthing at your jaw and neck, anything that he could reach.

"That's it," You murmured, watching a blush spread across his neck as you swiped your thumb across the head of his cock. "Fuck, you're so beautiful Art." You twisted your wrist as he whimpered, and bit your lip as his teeth grazed your skin. "You've been working so hard...You just need someone to take care of you a little, hmm?"

The water sloshed around your legs as Art's hips rolled up into your hand. You could feel his hot breath pushing against your neck, his tongue flickering out to catch a droplet of sweat sliding down your skin.

You were so hot, so slick as his skin shifted and almost seemed to stick against yours. His legs knocked against yours as he reached down, curling his fingers around your forearm. You watched his hips judder, his back arching as he spilled across his abs. You smiled, smearing it into his skin as he sagged back against you. His heart pounded beneath your joined hands, his thumb skating along yours.

"We should get out of the tub," He mumbled.

"Because we're going to get pruney and we're sitting in jizz water?"

Art laughed, tipping his head back to nip at your jaw.

"And because I'd like to return the favor."

#Art Donaldson x Reader #Art Donaldson x You #Art Donaldson/Reader #Art Donaldson/You #Art Donaldson fic #Art Donaldson imagine #asks #replies #requests #anon #x 3 lol

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myjealouseyes · 5 months ago

Text

Request from an anon: ravenclaw reader x Harry where she meets James, Lily, Sirius, Remus, etc for the first time when coming over for a holiday dinner or something?

A/N — hello Nonnie! This actually cuts off right before they meet so if you want a part two with them actually meeting just request and I’ll be happy to write it for you <33

Request Drabble here.

Part two

“You’re sure the house apparel is okay?”

The words tumble out your mouth as you smooth out your blue sweater for the fifth time over the ten minute walk back to Harry’s Parent’s house. You thought meeting his family after your date instead of before would ease some of your nerves, but the opposite had occurred. Dinner had giving you more time to ponder over all the things that could go wrong.

While you don’t doubt that his family is just as amazing as he is, meeting them is working you up a little. For some reason, meeting them just feels so official. Not that you aren’t sure about Harry. You plan to cling to his side until he’ll no longer have you. (Which you hope is a day that’ll never come.) It just sends a kaleidoscope of fast-fluttering butterflies to your stomach to know things were getting serious. That he was serious about you.

“I’ve told you, it’s fine.” He squeezes your hand And kisses the side of it. The affection is almost enough to make you drop the anxiousness completely. “They won’t pay much attention to your sweater. And even if they do, you look great. Better than that. You look perfect.” His words bring a warm flush to your cheeks as you nibble on your lip, now with something akin to bashfulness.

“I just want this to go—“

“—perfectly, I know.”

His smile is calm and kind, like you’re being completely reasonable and not freaking out over nothing. “If I’m honest, I don’t see how it could go any other way. You’re perfect, so everything you do is just as. By extension.” A sheepish giggle bubbles from your throat as you squeeze his hand. “Science?” You tease as your shoulders start to relax “Hardly. Everything you do is magic,” he stops walking to give you a little smirk. “Literally.” You reward him with another, louder and more boisterous, laugh. (Next time he wants to go for full belly.)

As you approach his house, you look at him one more time for reassurence. He presses his lips to your cheek. “They’ll love you. Seriously, what’s not to like?” He kisses your other cheek. “And even if they don’t—which won’t happen—they’ll have to warm up to you because I really, really like you. More than that. I love you.” Your eyes widen like saucers, but he chooses is to ignore it for now. “So this’ll be fine, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for your answer as he pushes the door open, dragging you through the door.

#harry potter x fem!reader #harry james potter x you #harry potter x y/n #harry james potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry james potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry james potter x y/n #harry James Potter x fem!reader #hjp x fem!reader #hjp x y/n #hjp x you #hjp imagine #hjp x reader #ravenclaw!reader #ravenclaw reader #Harry Potter x ravenclaw!reader #harry james potter x ravenclaw!reader #hjp x ravenclaw!reader

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matan4il · 5 months ago

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what do you, as an Israeli, think of Standing Together? asking entirely in good faith because I see things supporting them a lot, but it's always from American Jews and (no offense to us), I don't totally trust that we're informed enough to know what we're talking about and what their perspective and usefulness truly is in the way that someone who actually lives there would. so many orgs are untrustworthy or covertly antisemitic and it made me curious for your perspective. thank you for everything. <3

Hi Nonnie!

Sorry it took me a moment to reply, but I hope my answer can still help you!

As an idea, Standing Together is a movement that I should have been all for. They are pro-coexistence, and so am I. There's no doubt in my mind that Jews aren't going anywhere, and neither are Arabs, and we are all better off working together for a good future for all. Supposedly, that's ST's message, so they absolutely should be an organization that I would be all for.

BUT from everything I've experienced, the narrative that they adopted is way more one-sided than their official stance, they're closer to being anti-Israel than balanced, which makes them problematic for me. Especially when you look at the individual actions and statements of many of this movement's leaders, it's evident that coexistence to them comes at the expense of historical facts, as well as certain Jewish rights. Obviously, the leaders' personal positions influence the movement's stance and actions.

For example, in this interview from Nov 2023, a Jewish leader of the movement falsely calls Israel's 2014 operation in Gaza against Hamas, "a war against Gaza and its people" (brief summary: Hamas kidnapped and murdered three Jewish teenagers in Judea and Samaria, Israel launched Operation Brother's Keeper during which it arrested some of Hamas' terrorists in that area looking for intel on where those 3 kids were and what happened to them, Hamas fired rockets from Gaza at Israel to get its terrorists released and used terror tunnels, including ones that crossed the border from Gaza into Israel, to kill and kidnap our people. That's what Israel ended up fighting against in Operation Protective Edge), while an Arab leader of ST defines their way as one which rejects "maintaining violent military control over millions of people," but says nothing against the terrorism that's used against millions of Israelis and Jews.

In terms of the recent war, since Oct 7 they have come out calling for a ceasefire now very early on in the war (I can't remember when they started it, but I know by Dec 7, 2023 they'd already put out a vid calling to stop the war, when really the ground operation only started about a month earlier, before it could possibly achieve anything), meaning this call was undermining Israel's right (and duty!) to defend its citizens, and asking us to surrender our goals of returning all the hostages and destroying Hamas' rule (only the latter can prevent Hamas from fulfilling its promise to carry out more massacres of the type that started this war, and has claimed so many lives on both sides). Another thing you can see in that vid is ST participating in spreading the false narrative that Israel is intentionally starving the Gazans (you can see the same thing in this poster, which says in Hebrew, "Thou shalt not starve." It's a poster for humanitarian aid they were supposedly bringing into Gaza, as if the IDF would ever let anyone bring anything they want unchecked into a war zone, or as if the amount of aid a few Israeli cars could bring is more than the hundreds of trucks Israel has been allowing in, checked. ST's just posturing and spreading an anti-Israel libel). Helping to spread a libel against one side is NOT being pro-coexistence. Imagine if they were spreading a libel that all Gazans are Hamas terrorists, and took part in the massacre! I think it's clear that, even if it's not simple to tell them apart, there are people in Gaza who are complicit, and people who are uninvolved and innocent. So if ST were spreading such a libel against Gazans, I'd oppose them. I am not going to do less when ST is spreading a libel against my own people.

I hope one day they correct course, but I can't currently support them. Give me REAL solidarity between Jews and Arabs, which sees and recognizes the humanity of both, not a repeat of the de-humanization of Jews, and a surrender of Jewish rights to an anti-Jewish narrative. That's not real peace, it's not real coexistence, it's a return to the way that we Jews have had to live for centuries in exile: always dependent on the good will (or lack of it) of the majority under whose will we lived, forced to bend ourselves, our rights, our dignity, too often even our very lives, to our subjugators, in the hope (and without any guarantees) that they will show us some kindness.

Many of the movement's leaders have not only expressed themselves in a way that reflects an acceptance of the anti-Israeli narrative, and took one-sided positions I can't agree with, they also acted in ways that have left me feeling quite unsafe.

For example, one of ST's founders, Yeela Raanan, joined and supported the violent Palestinian riots on Israel's border with Gaza, organized by Hamas, meant to breach the border fence, which started in 2018. Today we know these riots were a part of Hamas' preparations for the Oct 7, 2023 massacre, as they were getting the IDF used to them coming closer and closer to the fence. TBH, those of us listening to the statements of Hamas' leaders, we didn't need to wait for the border to be breached in order to know that it would be a bloodbath if they succeed. Sinwar's promise that they will reap out the hearts of Israelis with spoons from our chests was enough. Also, the repeated use during these riots of flags and kites with swastikas was pretty telling. So yeah, I can't trust anyone who supported that.

The movement is also financially supported in part by funds, such as the New Israel Fund, which finances a lot of good causes, but also many anti-Israel ones, and the German fund Rosa Luxemburg Stiftung, which supports the antisemitic BDS movement (it's antisemitic first of all because one of its stated goals is to put an end to Israel as a Jewish state, another reason is their use of antisemitic tropes in characterizing the Jewish state).

The ironic thing is that, despite how imbalanced against Israel ST is, it was still the so-called pro-Palestinians who actually started a campaign to boycott the organization. Not because of anything specific ST said or did. It was simply for being an Israeli organization, showing the diversity of Israeli society, which is apparently bad 'coz it "normalizes" Israel's existence. That shows you the anti-Israel nature of this opposition, that no amount of willingness to cooperate with the de-humanization of Jews and erasure of our rights will ever be enough for people whose real motivation is antisemitism, that wishes to see an end to the Jewish state.

I hope this helps, Nonnie! Once more, my apologies for how long it's taken me to reply. Be well!

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #israelunderattack #terrorism #anti terrorism #antisemitism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #standing together

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miyacults · 10 months ago

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begging on my hands and knees for a sequel to the daddy gojo fic but w sugu please please please

a/n: my dear nonnie this is less than u actually deserve but i hope it fuels the stsg daddy agenda im pushing here.

violet, blue, green, red to keep me out… i win.

( ft. suguru geto. )

Suguru’s nowhere near salvation—soul too damned to expect something else—yet his heart aches, breaks, and cries blood at the mere thought of not deserving you. He might have made a path down the cursed side of being a Sorcerer with Satoru next to him, making the best of his efforts on keeping you away from that devilish facade of his you haven’t seen yet, and although he’s the one to blame when you finally do, well—he can’t hide anymore. That’s the price that comes with being one of the Strongests.

< part one.

wc: 3k (proofread? probably not)

cw: [ 18+ explicit content minors dni ] technically this is part two of a gojo fic (linked above) but can be read individually so no biggie. fem reader (female bodied). teacher!suguru meaning he did not deflect here okay, we’re living a happy life away from the pain. first one was gojo action so this is for geto action only but poly satosugu is clearly implied, that’s the whole point of this basically hehe. daddy kink and daddy dynamic so be very careful! minimal to no prep. unprotected sex. p in v sex. mentions of blood. mentions of death. these two pamper reader too much so reader’s a little spoiled but in the good way. geto is a sweet pretty much. if i forgot anything to put here lemme know. enjoy! <3~

From time to time, Suguru wonders about his soul in genuine distress. Perhaps out of guilt and worry and only in moments like these—well past midnight with bloodied nuckles and heavy footsteps echoing through thin walls, dragging himself up the stairs of the palatial home he and Satoru bought together, with nothing but a familiar sense of anxiety building in his chest. But it’s not like his personal cup of remorse is filled with all the haunting thoughts of the bad things he has done and seen in his life thanks to his sinister line of work, or as if such awful thoughts could actually pull some strings within his untainted heart—because that’s far from being the case.

It’s just—it’s just who he is. The blessing and the curse of being a Sorcerer, of swallowing venom as a whole to save the lives of those who live an ignorant bliss.

White marble stains in scarlet as he approaches his bedroom in silence, mind reflecting on the fact that things should be good now, that everything’s fine and danger has been erased. Any man in love would have handled the situation in the exact way he did, wouldn’t they? He wonders about this, too, quite frequently, and he hates to admit that the question lingers on his brain for far too long for his own liking. It makes him dread the fact that he’s not doing a good job in taking care of you.

Yet it doesn’t matter, as Suguru already knows the answer better than anyone—and he doesn’t qualify much for the kind-hearted-person term (or so he’s been thinking since the last blossom of his youth and the tragedies that showered his naive teen years catches him off guard). But he really doesn’t want to either, because then that would mean that he can’t successfully protect the thing he cares about the most in the world. And he can’t let that happen.

But the look Satoru shoots at him as soon as he opens his bedroom door and finds him sitting comfortably in the wide couch—awaiting his return, as usual—has him breathing correctly again, mind turning back from unwanted ideas that bother him to no end.

“You got busy tonight, huh,” Satoru murmurs quietly, head lolling to the side while scanning his best friend’s tired figure.

“I took care of the scum,”

“And didn’t invite?”

Suguru’s lips turn into a devious smirk, heavy body finally falling between the many soft pillows his large bed has.

“Princess was so upset, needed you to stay by her side,” he resolves quite calmly, dried blood forcing a horrid contrast to his charming features. “If I’m not there to hold her, then you must,”

There’s a silent warning to his words, and Satoru doesn’t have to make an effort to catch it immediately. He already knows it by heart, he always has—he always will.

“She couldn’t stop crying for over an hour anyway,” he ends up retorting sharply instead, hoarse voice weighing a tone of suppressed anger. “Hope you gave the bastard a merciless death,”

How couldn’t he after what he did to you?

The day had started quiet, tranquil—the week itself abnormally peaceful for them. Maybe it was the fleeing summer coercing the unpleasant job of Sorcerers into days of calm, long work hours slowing down and making them believe they couldn’t relax a little bit. So they decided that it would be a good idea to take you to that new coffee shop in Shinjuku you were dying to go lately. And it was fine, of course, you were incredible happy to be outside the walls of home as you hold hands with both them in a sea of smiley people.

Until it wasn’t.

That desolated look on your face when you found yourself trapped into the arms of some Curse User seeking vengeance towards them—Suguru memorized it, because it caused him some undescribable pain he couldn’t possibly explain even if he tried to. His heart shattered into a million tiny pieces at the sight of gleaming tears drying in your cheeks and the sound of broken sobs, garbled whimpers of their names coming out of parted lips as you held onto nothing for balance, unable to stop yourself from breaking down at the fear, the horror, the trepidation it forced your body into a shock.

He couldn’t prevent what happened after they took you back and he tried to calm you down by placing you in Satoru’s lap, hurriedly murmuring something about making it right. It’s gonna be okay, princess, you’re gonna be okay. He won’t hurt you ever again. I’m here to protect you.

Maybe—just maybe—you heard the strained tone that bathed his words in that moment. And maybe you didn’t understand it right away, or maybe you didn’t want to.

Because Suguru has always been there to make things right, and nothing else has to matter when he and Satoru are there to protect you from the dangers of the world.

Like they have devoted themselves to do.

Suguru doesn’t remember the exact time you came into his life—he doesn’t really care to, because he knows you’ve pretty much always been there. He has no idea where do his memories begin or end at, but the teary-doe look of your face has been plaguing the tissues of his brain for so long now he can’t find himself to remember a time where it hasn’t been there.

He remembers his first day at Jujutsu High, during the spring of him being fifteen and you a little less than that, when he saw you adverting everyone’s gaze as you walked behind your mother (an assistant director, of all things) towards the offices in silence—floral dress wrinkly as you seated in some chair and patiently waited for your mom to finish off her work. No complaints but with a huge pout, bored to death.

He remembers the first time Satoru made you cry by telling you you were a weak nuisance (and how he shortly laughed at that), and he remembers the sickening feeling of nausea that infected his stomach shortly after—and he remembers how it didn’t disappeared until he handed you a beverage from the machines and you smiled at him like none of them ever harmed you in the first place.

He remembers you admiring your mother’s ivory dress the day she married principal Yaga, and he remembers the way he took your hand into his to give you a little bit of courage as you and Satoru walked down the aisle side by side, carrying the rings of the newlyweds.

He remembers the winter of Satoru’s eighteenth birthday, when the white-haired man accidentally dropped a box full of the school’s Christmas decorations over you, making you trip down the stairs and hurt your ankle. He remembers the tears that stained his posh pajama pants when you shouted at him—immediately, instantly—crying out his name and seeking comfort. He also remembers the way Satoru moved around you like a lighting bolt, reaching and lifting you up in his arms before Suguru could arrive. Soothing sweet words into your ear, kissing your cheek as he darted a glare in his direction.

He remembers that they both shared the same thought at that moment, even though it was never vocalized.

He remembers how you have always made him feel this sick—as if you’re infesting his body and refusing to let him cure himself off you at all. He remembers because the feeling doesn’t really stops, never has, probably never will, and he has now grow a little too familiar with the lingering explosion of things that do make him feel alive bubbling in his chest. He’s now used to you setting his soul on fire and making him sick.

But it’s special, nonetheless. A sugary sweet method of inflicting pain—as Satoru likes to say.

Because Suguru Geto is not exactly a good person by his own perspective—but he likes to believe he’s a good man to both you and Satoru, for selfish that could be. The kind of man that puts your safety and well-being on top of anything else, the one that ensures both of your happiness above his own. He’s the type of man that allows some of his darkest desires to die in a fire, following what he believes is the right thing to do.

“Sugu?”

He can hear it clearly, so vivid and bright and sweet it makes him terribly sick all of a sudden. Singsong and gently voice, coated in saccharine sugar echoing through his ears as the most enthralling tone wraps around his name like a prayer, the deliberately long uttering of ‘Sugu’ forcing the curves of his lips to fall abruptly, his heart stopping without notice and an invisible punch to the guts knocking all the air out of his lungs.

“‘Toru, Daddy, where are you?”

Suguru waits—pretends he doesn’t really care as your footsteps sound closer, closer, closer, and his posture maintains, seemingly calm, apparently unbothered, somewhat bored. But, oh, Satoru knows.

Satoru knows as he sits by his side on the obsidian sectional sofa, with legs crossed and arms splayed over the border, that his best friend’s mind is going on a haze, a brand new sense of anxiety crawling under his skin like a thousand bugs eating him alive. Satoru’s almost certain, he’s sure that if he gets a little closer, the violent sounds of Suguru’s heart pounding in alarming violence against his ribs would cause him physical pain. It puts him on edge; the mere thought of his best friend’s reaction at what’s about to happen now.

If it were him, he wouldn’t care. He hadn’t care in the past, actually. Satoru has always been more than happy to let you near the side of him that glows closer to hell than heaven itself.

But Suguru is different, he thinks.

“She’s supposed to be sleeping,” Suguru stares at him blankly, a hint of irritation in his voice. “It’s long past midnight, and she gets all cranky in the morning every time she stays up,”

“She was sleeping,” Satoru stands up, a sigh sliding past his lips while moving to the bedroom door. “But you already know how she gets if she wakes up for water and is all alone in bed. She gets all needy,”

Suguru raises an eyebrow.

“And who’s fault is that, huh?”

“It’s not polite to finger-point, Suguru.”

Both of them stay silent for a bit, carefully paying attention to your sounds. Suguru tuts his tongue when he hears you calling his name near the bathroom hall.

“I’m too bloodied for her to see me like this,”

“Clearly. Just stay there, lemme—,” Satoru scoffs, opening the door and then closing it behind him swiftly before you can catch a glimpse of the inside. “Oi, sweets, what do you think you’re doing out of bed?”

“But ‘Toru,” you complain in a hushed whine. “You left me alone, you know I don’t like that. It didn’t felt warm anymore,”

Suguru can’t see you—all he has is a muffled sound of your distorted voice, and he swears he knows exactly the way your lips are pushing the loveliest pout to ever exist, the way you’re looking at Satoru through sleepy eyelashes as you put your little complaint out.

And he also knows Satoru might have rolled his eyes playfully at the sight, pulling you closer to steal a kiss from your frowned lips.

“So needy, my baby is so needy,”

“Is Suguru not home yet?” you ask slowly, perhaps setting your groggy eyes into Satoru, staring at him with that enamored look they both know too well.

“Do you want Daddy?”

“Yeah, I do,” you snort.

“I’m your Daddy and I’m home, so,”

“I want both,” you giggle softly, so sweetly Suguru can feel his insides melt at the sound of your bubbling laugh.

He’s sure Satoru has you entangled in a hug, probably sneaking his hands all over your body and tickling your sides to pull a smile.

“Oh, your dumb Daddy, too. Alright. I dunno where he is, sweets,” Satoru states, as if.

“How mean, ‘Toru.”

“Excuse me? What did you just call me?”

“Mean. You’re lying to me.”

Suguru smirks at that. He stands up from the bed and walks towards the door to open it and find you both in the exact position he predicted.

And the look you shoot his way, the frown that forms in your face and your pretty features contract in sudden worry when his frame appears in front of you—it all has his heart pounding like crazy, he feels so loved, he feels so full of you. He feels insatiable.

“Oh,” you let out a little squeal as you shift from Satoru’s embrace and into his, “Sugu, you—”

“Don’t worry much about this, princess,” he mumbles, catching you inside his arms like the world depends on it. “I’m okay.”

But he’s sure you’re crying anyway.

And you don’t even stop to think about the blood. You don’t even care that he reeks of death and violence and Curses as you hold onto him for dear life, with arms that wrap tightly around him and pull him closer, closer, even closer; as lips caress the skin of his neck and little mewls echoe softly against his throat. Pants of I love you, I don’t want anything bad happening to you, I love you, fueling his mind like a bomb ready to launch.

Satoru laughs it off with a devious smile.

“Poor baby, you have her worried sick, Suguru,” he falsely chides. “Guess you gotta make it up to her.”

“Uh-huh,” Suguru nods. “My poor princess, do you want Daddy to make it alright?”

You nod in between heavy breaths, head still buried in his neck. Satoru gives a soft slap to your ass whimsically.

“So needy,” the Strongest murmurs, but he rapidly turns away and aims for the stairs. “I’m gonna go find a snack though, I’m starving. And then I’m gonna prepare a bath so you both can meet me there in a bit,”

Suguru nods.

“Go on. Let me take this princess to bed in the mean time, then we meet you in the bathtub,”

Suguru takes you to his large bed and places you in the middle of many soft pillows cooing in your ear to wash the concern out of you, but you’re reluctant. You cup his face and scan him looking for wounds, soon realizing the ugly streaks of scarlet that stain his face are, in fact, not his. But even then you don’t flinch. Instead, you let your hands wander all over his chest—desperate to pull him into you, to merge your bodies and never letting him go, never separated.

“Oh?” Suguru smiles at your scattered words. There’s still blinks of sleep tugging at your tired eyes, and he can’t help but fondle your face cautiously. “Are we merging with Satoru too, hm?”

You nod, sulky little look fighting sleepiness with all you got.

“Of course, Daddy, always with ‘Toru,”

“That’s right, princess. Always with Satoru,”

You inhale a deep breath. It’s easy for Suguru to notice every little thing about you, so he caught up on your train of thoughts before yourself. You were struggling with some words, biting your lip, eyelashes fluttering, thinking hard about something.

“What is it, baby?” He wonders carefully, hot breath colliding with your face, nose caressing the soft skin of your cheeks as he inhales your scent.

“Did you do a bad thing, Sugu?”

The question lingers on his brain for a few seconds, mind resisting on reflecting such thoughts. Yet his expression doesn’t change, he maintains serenity as the brush of skin above yours doesn’t stop. He holds you like a priced possession, like your mere existence could ever absolve the decaying all Sorcerers are damned to. Like you could kiss him and save him, like you could hug him and guard him—as if you could turn blood into holy water or death into salvation.

Maybe you can.

“Will you still love me if I did?” He asks, not dreading the answer.

“I will never stop loving you, Daddy,”

It ignites his body. Fire burns at his fists and he kisses you deeply, mouths meeting around a new heat, with tongues slipping and teeth clashing desperately. He has no intention of letting you catch a break, mouth falling to your neck where he bites at the sensitive skin and causes you to mewl.

“Ow, Suguru, that’s mean,” you grumble, but you part your bare legs anyway when his hands drop and brush at your thighs.

“Can’t help it, princess,” he press a chaste kiss to your lips once more. “You gonna let me play a little with this pretty pussy, yeah?” The words flee his throat in a raspy tone, and his hands don’t stop. He hikes up that oversized cashmere sweater, that can only belong to Satoru, barely above the line of your lacey black panties, enough for him graze it and get a glimpse of your puffy lips against the fabric, awaiting for him. Suguru traces a finger along your cunt, causing you to shiver at the cold digits. “How gorgeous,”

You pant. “But—The bath, Sugu,”

“He can wait a little,” he says into your mouth “Gonna make you feel really good, princess,” he breathes heavily, rocking his hip a little as a thumb strikes tenderly your cunt through your panties.

And he notices right away—in the way you shiver under his touch when he hovers completely above you, how a breathless sigh escapes past your parted lips and your fists grab a handful of his shoulders to attach yourself onto him and make his bulge nudge your cunt. He repeats the motion a few times, mouth leaving stray kisses in your neck and already throbbing cock humping your covered pussy through his pants.

“Sugu,” you whine at one particularly hard thrust of his hips, involuntary loud moan reverberating from the back of your throat. “‘Toru,”

“Shh, princess,”

Suguru is fast at parting your panties to the side, and he says there’s no need for prepping you tonight, says it’s gonna be real quick so you can both go back to Satoru—with his cock an angry shade of red as its released free from his trousers and it aims for your tiny hole fast, thrusting in one go. You’re whimpering at how fast it happens, cunt burning at the sudden intrusion since he is usually the one that takes his time to properly prep you to take his cock.

You guess he’s feeling off, so you happily comply if that’ll help him.

“Want you, Sugu, I need you,”

“Ah-ah, my good girl,” he grunts lightly, hands steadying you by the ass as he finally bottoms out. “Can you keep doing that for me? Can you be a good girl?”

A loud hiss vibrates through clenched teeth as you wrap your legs around his hips, head nodding many forms of yes as you inch closer to him in distress.

“That’s it baby, take it pretty,”

“H-Hurts a little, Sugu,” you murmur softly, eyes glued to where he’s slowly sliding in and out.

“I know princess,” he pants. “Give it a minute,” He’s practically caging you shortly after, thrusting up roughly as stretched out walls wrap him and suck him deeply. You’re not given a chance to recover or adjust properly, but the burning does start to fade away. Discomfort grows into pleasure and whimpers turn into soft moans as you bury your face on his neck and his hot breath collides sharply against the shell of your ear. “You’re so brave, my good girl. So pretty, my princess,”

You lift your hips to meet his thrusts, dainty fingers digging the flesh of his shoulders when he grunts. And it doesn’t take long for tears to collect in your eyes as heat floods your body once again, the familiar throb of your clit making you aggravate the hump of your hips so your swollen bud finds a little bit of friction. Suguru doesn’t fail to turn you into a needy mess, strong hand coming to cover the cries emitting from your mouth.

Muffled chants of Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, alongside his hoarse grunts and the lewd slap of skin against skin are the only sounds that fly the room when he cums—bruising fingers grasping your flesh harshly as he paints your walls white, and nearly immediately you’re creaming all over the tip of his sensitive cock firmly pressed against your cervix.

“Not leaving you baby,” he pants out. “Not leaving you at all.”

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