#but I had to write this before I forget about it

[bytemee]

HOUSE OF BALLOONS — YU JIMIN.

“you're in my world now, you can stay, you can stay. but you belong to me, ooh, you belong to me."

synopsis. karina wasn’t used to sharing. seeing you laugh with someone else? that didn’t sit right with her.

pairing. mean!sorority!karina x loser!gp!reader

warning(s). 18+ (smut), g!p reader, pet names (she calls u puppy like it’s ur name), unprotected sex, p in v, jealous!karina, dom!karina, sub!reader and bad writing ahaa...

words. 1.6k

authors note. i could go for a chipotle burrito but damn do they be taxing

karina was used to having all eyes on her. she was the kind of girl who walked into a room and made everyone else feel like background noise. and you—shy, awkward, always fumbling over your words—were her favorite plaything.

it wasn’t like you were dating. she just liked keeping you close, liked the way you turned red when she got too close, and liked knowing that you’d drop everything the second she called.

but tonight, you weren’t where you were supposed to be.

she had invited you to the party—expected you to hover near her like always, expected you to wait for her to give you attention. but instead, you were downstairs, sitting on the couch, laughing at something some random girl said.

karina didn’t like that.

she watched from across the room, arms crossed, lips pursed, as she saw the way you were smiling—actually smiling—in front of someone else.

when the girl leaned in a little too close, touching your arm, something snapped.

before you even realized what was happening, karina was in front of you, slipping between you and the girl with a sickly sweet smile.

"oh, i see you’ve met my little puppy," she said smoothly, tilting her head. "careful with this one. she gets nervous around new people.”

you were about to open your mouth to say something then she sat down on your lap, draping her arms over your shoulders. you swallowed hard, your face going pink, completely caught off guard.

karina had always been shameless with her teasing, but this—this was different. she was staking a claim, making sure everyone in the room knew exactly who you belonged to.

the girl you had been talking to gave an awkward laugh, clearly unsure of what to do now that karina had inserted herself into the situation.

"uh, i was just—"

"leaving?" karina finished for her, still smiling, though it was obvious she wanted her gone.

the girl hesitated, looking between the two of you before mumbling some excuse and disappearing into the crowd.

you barely had a second to process what just happened before karina’s fingers were suddenly in your hair, twirling a loose strand between her fingers as she leaned in even closer.

your eyes widened, your face burning up under the intense stare she was giving you. you swallowed thickly, your hands gripping the couch, unsure of where else to put them.

and then, just when you thought she couldn't get any closer, she did, her lips brushing against your ear. "don't look so surprised, puppy."

she pulled away just enough to look into your eyes again. then she got up from your lap, smoothing out her skirt before grabbing your hand and pulling you upstairs, away from all the prying eyes.

and you let her.

karina didn’t waste a second. she shoved you into the first empty room she found, kicking the door shut behind her before pinning you against the wall.

it didn’t matter whether you were hers in name—because in every way that counted, you were. and tonight, she was making sure everyone knew it.

her lips crashed against yours, rough and claiming, like she had something to prove. and maybe she did. maybe she needed to remind you exactly where you belonged.

karina was a damn good kisser, and the longer she kissed you, the harder it got to stand on your own. your fingers curled into her shirt, clinging to her for support, a quiet gasp slipping past your lips.

she loved this. loved how easily she could pull you apart, how simple it was to make you forget everything but her.

when she finally pulled away, a thin strand of saliva still connected you for a brief second before it snapped, leaving you breathless. your head spun, your lips swollen, and you just stood there, waiting—because she was the one in control, and you both knew it.

her nails raked across your skin, making their way under your shirt, and you bit your lip, trying to hold back a moan.

"you don't want anyone else, do you, hm?" she asked, her voice low and soft. she leaned in again, her lips brushing against your jaw, the gentle touch a sharp contrast to the way her nails dug into your hips.

you shook your head quickly, your heart racing in your chest, because no, no, you only wanted her. you only ever wanted her.

karina hummed, satisfied, her grip tightening just enough to make you gasp. "good," she murmured, "because i don't like sharing."

her teeth grazed your skin, and your breath hitched, fingers twitching where they hovered uncertainly at your sides. you wanted to touch her, wanted to pull her closer, but you knew better than to move without permission.

she noticed, of course she did, and it made her smirk against your throat. "what is it, puppy?" she taunted. "you want to touch me?"

you nodded, swallowing hard. "please," you whispered, barely able to get the word out.

karina pulled back just enough to look at you, tilting her head like she was considering it. her fingers trailed up your sides before she finally grabbed your wrists and guided your hands under her skirt until your fingers brushed against her underwear.

"there," she breathed out. "is that what you wanted?"

she was so wet, and the thought that she was this turned on because of you—because she was claiming you as her own—made you whine, the sound almost desperate.

"karina," you pleaded, the bulge in your pants growing more uncomfortable by the second.

karina's smirk widened. "you want me to touch you?" she asked, her breath hot against your ear.

you nodded frantically, still unable to form words, too overwhelmed by desire to do anything except obey.

"use your words." karina's grip tightened on your wrists.

"please," you whimpered, voice shaking. "please, touch me, i need you."

she hummed, satisfied. "that's what i like to hear."

and then her fingers were working at the buttons of your jeans, her other hand reaching under your shirt, sliding up your stomach before pressing against it to push you onto the bed, her lips finding yours in a searing kiss that left you breathless.

"karina," you moaned. "i—fuck..."

she didn't waste any time. as soon as you were flat on the bed, she crawled on top of you, straddling your waist, grinding against your thigh as her fingers wrapped around your cock.

karina chuckled, clearly amused by your reaction. "you're so sensitive," she purred, her hand moving slowly, teasingly.

you whimpered, your hips moving involuntarily. you were starting to unravel, quickly losing control. karina knew it, and she loved it.

"is this what you wanted, puppy?" she asked, her lips brushing against your neck. "you like it when i touch you like this?"

all you could manage was a ragged moan in response.

her hand moved faster, sending a shock through your system, and you threw your head back, eyes squeezing shut. it felt so fucking good, and you couldn't think, couldn't speak, could only let her do whatever she wanted.

then suddenly she stopped.

your eyes snapped open, and you let out a whine, desperate for more.

karina ignored you, instead pulling her underwear down, kicking it to the side before she straddled your waist again, lining herself up with your cock.

her hands pressed against your chest for balance as she started to move, rolling her hips at an excruciatingly slow pace.

you groaned, your fingers digging into the sheets, trying to keep yourself from just taking over and flipping your positions. you knew that would just earn you a sharp slap and a scolding, something that you would much rather avoid.

karina leaned down, hovering her underwear above your mouth, a wicked glint in her eyes.

"open up," she commanded.

you obeyed, and she stuffed the fabric into your mouth. it tasted like her, and the thought of that alone made you twitch inside her.

your hands moved to grip her thighs, fingers pressing into the soft skin, holding her steady as she rocked her hips.

she let out a breathy moan as you tightened your grip on her. "fuck," she panted, her breaths coming in short gasps. "just like that."

you tried to say something, but all that came out was muffled by the underwear she had shoved into your mouth. karina smirked, her pace increasing, the heat in her core growing stronger, spreading through her body. she threw her head back, a few strands of hair sticking to her forehead.

"fuck," she groaned. "i'm gonna cum."

she could feel it building, her walls clenching around you, and she knew she was close. she knew the sight of her falling apart would send you over the edge, too, and that's what she wanted, needed, craved.

her grip tightened, nails digging into your chest, her breathing erratic, her hips rocking faster, harder. she was right there, teetering on the edge, and then finally, she toppled over.

"fuck!" she cried out, her orgasm ripping through her, her legs trembling.

the moment she started to come undone, so did you, unable to hold back any longer; you groaned into the underwear, your head thrown back, your spine arching off the mattress, thrusting your hips upwards as you came.

your hands held her in place, gripping her thighs so hard they would leave marks, but neither of you cared.

karina slumped against you, her chest heaving, her face buried in the crook of your neck. she was panting, trying to catch her breath, and you could feel the rapid beat of her heart against your skin.

after a few moments, she pulled away, sitting back on your lap, a satisfied smile on her face. she reached forward and slowly pulled the underwear out of your mouth, her gaze fixed on you, taking in the aftermath of what she had done to you.

"mmm, looks like my puppy is satisfied."

you blinked, trying to clear the haze from your mind, but all you could focus on was the sight of her sitting on top of you, the mess dripping down her thighs, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen.

she looked so perfect.

"do you understand now?" she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice. "no one else gets to touch you like this. no one but me."

you nodded, still unable to find your words.

"good," she purred, leaning in and kissing you, soft and gentle, a stark contrast to how she had been before.

[fierceawakening]

Like, thinking more about this, I think this is another example of a thing I notice people on this site (probably leftists in general?) do, where they forget that powerful people exist and that sometimes we need words to describe their vices.

There’s not much reason to condemn a college student as “lazy” for not finishing a paper. It’s more profitable to ask what happened exactly. Did they wait to start the paper and then have an executive function issue and find themself unable to begin? Do they have a lot of other work they’re also behind in? Are they stressed? Are they homesick? ADHD and undiagnosed or out of meds?

If those issues are handled, can they write the paper?

Even if they can’t, not much rides on it. The paper isn’t a plea for, I don’t know, a sick baby’s insulin. The reason there’s a due date at all is so the teacher isn’t grading this year’s papers in 2028. Which I can relate to having been a teacher, but… no one’s safety or livelihood hinges on my wanting to be done with my work at the end of a semester.

This changes, to me, when we look at powerful people. Let’s take Elon Musk. It’s likely no one reading this post (unless it massively breaks containment) thinks Doge is a useful advisory board, but let’s suppose for a moment they are.

If this is the case, the task set before them is to research government agencies and the work they do and ascertain which agencies are bloated and inefficient and recommend changes. Again, I think this is silly and destructive and that most accusations of “government bloat” are about eliminating the kinds of redundancy that keep people safe.

But I’m not God, I could be wrong, and it IS legitimate policy work to research what an agency is doing and criticize it and recommend changes.

Musk didn’t do that. He had goons muscle their way into something he had no access to and is threatening to cut off benefits to vulnerable people by force.

That’s lazy (and cruel, and other things.) He saw hard work, he shit his pants, he flexed his strongman muscles, he can go back to bed rather than read bureaucratese for nine hours.

Powerful people can be lazy. I don’t think we should taboo the word for that reason.

ive also come to the conclusion that "laziness" is probably the stupidest, most hurtful, least useful, deliberately cruel concept in the world

[imsofreakingtired]

sevika gets drunk and ends up forgetting about her own wife and ends up in the brothel, and reader end up knowing all, but dont have courage enough to confront her, but she noticed the changes on your behavior like, dont wanting kisses often, dont wanting to cudlle at nigh or worried when she tells you that she have to work and etc.

(I am obsseeeed how you write angst, mwah mwah)

- 🧸

ohh absolutely. i love that idea<3 also tysmm!

leave you with nothing

content warning(s): idiot lesbians (slight angst) (not too bad i swear)

"are you sick of me? would you like to be? i'm trying to tell you something something that i've already said"

~~~

i think she would get drunk only when work was really stressing her out. or if her sense of self-worth is just at an all-time low (i’m thinking of the time silco dead up ordered her to help with a dead body, which was shocking even to renni, who was literally the mother of the victim.) when she feels trapped, hopeless, powerless, like the enterprise isn’t getting zaun anywhere closer to its ultimate goal. she doesn’t want to confide in you about this, she wants to keep up a front of stoic confidence to you, because she’s afraid if she reveals herself to be vulnerable you will leave her. 

so she drinks her troubles away and tells herself she’ll clear everything up to you in the morning if you ask why she came home late, she tells herself she’ll just play a round of cards or two with her drinking mates, that you’ll never know the difference (never thinks she’s more sober than when she’s stinking drunk.) 

one drink leads to another and she’s vaguely aware of her desire for something else that night - a woman’s touch, a woman’s voice, someone to hold her and tell her she is doing alright. she’s too drunk to remember where she’s felt this before, who has held her like this, and all she is aware of is an all-consuming loneliness that threatens to devour her alive. she’s thrown back into the old days before she met you, when all that awaited her after a hard day’s work was an empty apartment strewn with emptier liquor bottles. she doesn’t want to go back to this home. 

so she makes her way to babette’s, incredibly calm and collected—she’s good at playing sober when she wants to, and babette is surprised to see her check in— isn’t she married? — but she asks no questions and Sevika sees a woman who kind of looks like you. the eyes. the shape of the face. the hips, the way she moves in the dusky light. she picks her immediately. 

she’s too drunk to care about how it might look, asking the woman if it’s alright if she just lay with her head in the woman’s lap. telling her to stroke her hair and let her sleep for a while. even on the walk here she was hot with desire, but now she just wants to rest and hear the pretty words you would whisper in her ear when you thought she was asleep. 

she comes home at around 4 in the morning and promptly passes out on the couch, not even bothering to change. smelling of someone else’s perfume. you find her there in the morning and she doesn’t remember a single thing except that the coins in her pocket are gone. 

you know the signs; you’re not stupid, but you don’t want to think the worst. until you overhear Chuck talking to some of the patrons at the last drop. 

“yeah, Sevika was here, swept the table and then left in the middle of the round talking about Babette’s.” “Babette’s?? doesn’t she have a wife?” 

you wander through the rooms in a daze for the rest of the day as you wait for Sevika to come home. you’re furious at first, then you’re cold with dread. was it you? had you done something wrong to make her want something else, someone else? 

you don’t want to confront her, you’ve convinced yourself by now that whatever it was, it must have been something you did wrong, and even though you can’t think of a single time Sevika seemed angry or even unhappy with you, you can’t bring yourself to start the conversation. 

she comes home tired and her eyes light up when she sees you. when she tries to kiss you, you turn your face away. her hand reaches for your waist, you dodge her touch. 

“baby, what’s with you?” she asks. “i smell funny or what?”

yeah, you smell of babette’s. you smell of liquor. you smell of lies. 

“nothing. i’m tired. you want dinner?” 

“i ate already,” she says. “i’m going to bed.” 

okay, so we’re playing ignorant, you think. two can play at that game. 

as the days go on you avoid her more and more. you still clean up after her in the apartment, cook her meals, wash and mend her clothes as usual. but you don’t stay up waiting for her to come home, and you don’t let her kiss you in bed. Sevika’s at a complete loss—she’s never seen you this way before. unlike you, she’d never wonder if maybe she were at fault. if she feels she hasn’t done wrong, she’d stick to that conviction to the bitter end. but it exasperates her, the way you elude her touches, answer her with monosyllables, stare at her with a strange apprehension in your eyes when you think she isn’t looking. 

“i’m working late tonight,” she tells you one day. “don’t wait up.” 

you feel your heart drop. she’s already a regular for someone at babette’s, you know it. 

“what time do you think you’ll be back?” you ask, a little too quickly. 

she looks at you oddly. you’ve never asked her this before. “i’ll be back when i’m back.” her brows furrow in concern. “why, is something wrong?” 

“no,” you say. 

after she leaves you pace the apartment for about an hour before making up your mind and running out into the street. hood over your face so you won’t be recognized, you run straight to Babette’s and burst through the doors, ignoring the strange looks you receive. no one deters you—you were also a frequent patron before you met Sevika, but you see the workers look at you and whisper to one another. it only confirms your suspicions. you reach Babette’s office and she looks up at you in surprise. 

“can i help you, hon?” 

“Sevika,” you say breathlessly. “how many times has she checked in here?” 

her brows lift. she checks her records. “i don’t do this for anyone, you know - confidential information. but since you’re her wife…”

“how many times, please?” 

she looks up at you. “just once. a month ago. she seemed inebriated. stayed only for two hours.” 

just once? and drunk? Sevika, drunk? you couldn’t imagine it if you tried.

you walk back out of the brothel, barely thinking of where you’re going, barely thinking at all, when you hear a familiar voice call out your name. 

Sevika’s walking swiftly down the street towards you, her eyes dark. 

“what are you doing here?” she asks, grabbing your wrist. 

“what am I doing here?” you shoot back. “i’m here finding out what you were doing here!” 

she looks up at the sign of Babette’s place, as if she can’t understand what you mean. “i haven’t stepped foot in this place,” she growls. 

“Babette’s records say otherwise.” your voice is cold. 

then it all comes back to her at once. Sevika’s lips part slightly as she recalls that night, the desperation, the way she had lain in another woman’s lap. 

“baby,” she says. “listen.” 

“i’m done listening,” you snap, and turn on your heel. you walk away from her, leaving her behind on the street outside Babette’s.  

~~~

note: pt. 2 is here!

~~~

taglist~ @notlores @demothers-empty-blog @theyluvbix @archangeldyke-all @prettyinpink69 @beatdariceee @sevikaaaalover @intrnetrbl @00valentina-writes00 @zelluna @mamas-evil-hag @sevikassluttywaist @justhereforsubsevika

[watermelonlovershigh]

can you please write something about reader maybe finding harry's stash of sex toys. maybe he uses them during solo play but she doesn't know about that because they're new to dating and he hasn't shared that with her because he's scared she'll judge him. but when she finds them she has a million thoughts running in her head. not knowing if they were for him or if he uses them on other people. with a cute ending of her being super cool with him using sex toys and doesn't judge him.

Finding Harry's Secret Stash of Sex Toys (SMUT)

AN: love, love, love this idea! it was fun to write. i may, key word, MAY write a part 2 to this. no promises though. keep in mind any mentions of sexuality is purely fictional and not real. hope you all enjoy and don't forget to leave your feedback.

This story contains: periods, mentions of sex toys, sex, confrontation, anxiety, comfort, mentions of sexuality, fluff

{ boyfriend!harry - softrry - au!harry - bi!harry }

word count- 1,744

While searching Harry's bathroom drawers for a period product, you discover his stash of sex toys. After waiting about a week, you confront him with all the questions you have about your discovery.

You and Harry have been together for nearly two months. During this time, you've become well-acquainted with each other; however, they're still certain things that you don't know about one another. This isn't due to any effort in hiding information, but rather because those specific matters haven't yet been relevant in any of your discussions.

------------------------------

It's a Friday night, and you're at Harry's house for the evening. He had purchased a pizza, and the two of you were comfortably seated in his living room, savoring the pizza and sipping on wine. About an hour after eating, while watching a film, you excuse yourself to the bathroom. In the bathroom, you realize your periods started and you didn't have any period products with you.

Knowing Harry is a mature adult, you promptly step out of his downstairs bathroom and make your way back to the living room to ask if he by chance had anything for you to use. Otherwise, you'll have to go to the twenty-four hour shop down the street. "Um Harry, do you have a pad or tampon I could use? I’ve just started my period and forgot to bring anything." You linger there, feeling somewhat awkward as you await his answer.

Harry turns to you and replies with a gentle smile, "Yeah, of course. You can go to my bathroom upstairs and look in one of the drawers by the sink. I generally keep period products there for when I have female visitors." God created men, and then he created Harry as an apology, you conclude. He's so fucking thoughtful.

With a sigh of relief, you respond, "Thank you. I'll be quick." You hurry up the stairs and proceed to his bathroom with urgency, fully aware that you're currently free bleeding. Upon entering, you close the door and search through the drawers of his vanity to locate the pads and tampons.

The first drawer you open is filled with floss picks and an electric razor. The second drawer holds additional rolls of toilet paper. However, as you open the third drawer, you're met with an unexpected sight that leaves you speechless. You were hoping to find something to assist your period, but instead, you come across a selection of dildos and butt plugs. When you finally open the fourth drawer, you let out a sigh of relief upon finding the items you'd been searching for.

You take a tampon out and make your way to the toilet to insert it. After you're done, you wash your hands and let your thoughts return to the drawer that's filled with sex toys. Harry has never mentioned having any of these types of items. Despite the many times you've had sex, he's never proposed the idea of incorporating sex toys into the mix. Perhaps, he uses them for his own pleasure, or he might enjoy using them on partners. But if that's the case, why hasn't he brought that idea up to you before?

You make your way out of the bathroom before Harry has time to become concerned and head downstairs to resume the movie together. Upon your return to his side, he asks, "Is everythin' alright?" You had a weird expression on your face that he couldn't quite place.

Trying to play off what you've just seen, you reply, "Yep, yeah, I'm fine. Let's finish the film."

For the remainder of the night, you don't bring up what you discovered in his bathroom drawer, but it never leaves your mind. If anything, you're just curious as to why he has those items. You would never judge his reasoning.

------------------------------

A week has passed since that evening you discovered Harry's drawer containing phallic-shaped items and butt plugs. You've been looking for the right moment to bring it up, which has now finally presented itself.

Currently, you're in Harry's bed, having sex. He's on top of you, pounding you into the mattress, while your hands rest on his perfectly round bum. As he begins to thrust more vigorously, your hands slowly slide closer to his crack, and when you accidentally graze his sensitive hole, Harry almost collapses on top of you.

Seeing how much pleasure it caused him, you do it again, this time with purpose. "Oh fuck!" Harry curses as you rub your fingers over his puckered rim.

Taking a deep breath, you bravely ask, "Yeah, does that feel good? Like having your tight hole played with?"

With his forehead resting against your neck, Harry affirms with a nod and softly murmurs, "uh-hu." He only confesses this because it's clear that you're open to touching him there; otherwise, he would've refrained from sharing such information due to his fear of being judged.

Eventually, you get lost in your own pleasure and forget about touching his bum. That is, until you're laid lax on the bed, muscles weak from your orgasm, with Harry laying on top of you. As you both try and catch your breaths, you bite the bullet and ask the question that's been on your mind all week.

"So.... does those toys you have in your bathroom drawer have anything to do with you liking your ass played with?" You really hope your question doesn't come off as rude or too invasive. You're genuinely curious.

Harry's body goes rigid at your question. Then he sits up slightly, looking down at you with confusion. "What?"

With a hint of anxiety in your voice, you explain, "Um, it's just, the other night, while I was looking for a tampon in your bathroom, I opened the wrong drawer and discovered several dildos and butt plugs. I was just wondering whether those items were for your personal use or you use them on other people. But just so you know, I'm not judging you in any way, just curious is all."

Harry falls back down and buries his face in your warm skin, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over him at your accidental discovery of his sex toys. He usually stores them in his closet, but after cleaning them the other day, he had set them in the drawer to dry.

In truth, Harry does enjoy anal play. Ever since he began puberty and started to explore his body, he discovered the pleasurable sensations that can come from anal stimulation. A few years later, he recognized his bisexuality, which, although not directly connected to his enjoyment of anal play, is certainly a positive in the situation.

Unfortunately, he's only had a handful of male partners. Therefore, when he's not able to experience penetration from a real cock, he frequently utilizes one of the dildos he's purchased for himself.

When he was with women, Harry typically didn't mention his liking for having his ass played with, out of concern for being judged. There were a few instances in the past where they'd end up finding out, leading to a mix of reactions—some supportive and others quite judgmental. So, he opted to keep that aspect of himself hidden and relied on his toys for when he craved anal.

Now that you're aware of his secret, he's filled with dread at the thought of your rejection. Yet, he reckons that if you willingly touched his bum during sex, that implies you're not completely against it.

With his warm breath against your neck, Harry reveals, "Um..... yes, they're mine. When I was a teenager, I realized I enjoyed havin' my bum touched. I usually keep it to myself 'cause I've been judged for it before. So....... that's why I tend to use my toys when I am alone. Sorry for not tellin' you."

The quiver in his voice stirs a sadness within you. Him revealing his anxiety about your potential judgment and the criticisms he's endured in the past breaks your heart. You tenderly hold his face and elevate his chin so he can meet your eyes. "Harry, sweetheart, I would never think less of you for liking that. I suspect many men would enjoy anal if they gave it a chance."

You take a deep breath and continue, "I do have a question, though." Harry nods for you to go ahead, so you proceed to ask, "Have you ever used your toys with your girlfriends before? Like, have they used them on you?" If he's open to the idea, you would definitely be eager to make use of his toys on him. The image of fucking him anally with one of his dildos arouses you more than you care to admit.

"There've been one or two times I shared my likin' of anal with ex's who were particularly kind and acceptin', which I appreciated. But in most cases, my partners didn't last long enough after discoverin' my interest in anal play to allow the use of toys during sex. S'also why I keep my sexuality a secret. 'Cause people can be so judgemental."

"Sexuality?" you question cautiously, allowing Harry to explain at his own pace.

"Um yeah, think I was sixteen when I realized I liked boys and girls. So I reckon m' bisexual. But I've only had two male partners. S'why I have so many toys. But I wouldn't say my sexuality has anythin' to do with my likin' for anal, just a bonus I suppose."

You hold Harry tightly in your arms, hoping to express your appreciation for his courage in confiding in you. It's clear that he feels a sense of safety in doing so.

You become aware of his current vulnerability; he's still without clothes, his soft cock positioned between your legs, your bare body surrounding him. The love you feel for Harry is so big that you struggle to find the right words. You also refrain from voicing it aloud out of fear that it may be too early in your relationship to utter such sentiments. So instead, you mummer against his ear, "Thank you for telling me, Harry."

He's on the verge of tears due to your exceptional acceptance. Harry has long struggled to find a girlfriend who fully acknowledges his sexuality and kinks. In his past relationships with boyfriends, he was often judged for his enjoyment of hetero sex, while his experiences with girlfriends led to criticism for his interest in gay sex. This constant judgment made him feel as though he could never succeed in love. However, with you by his side, there's a chance that you'll offer him the love and acceptance that he's been longing for.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(if you want to be apart of my new tag list, let me know right here !! some people who've requested to be added doesn't allow me to @ you. please check your settings first.)

taglist: @swiftmendeshoran // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @hsonlyangelxo // @lunabai // @ppleasingg // @harryscherrysugar // @devilsqueen722 // @mema10 // @harryswifee // @jewelaponte // @fruity-harry // @triski73 // @chronicallybubbly // @prettygurl-2009

My Masterlist Masterpost

[pyract0]

Random thoughts with hsr men: Parental edition

☪Includes: Jing yuan, Blade, Sunday, Boothill, Dr Ratio ☪No defined pronouns/ anatomy specifics for reader, adoptive children (specified to each character), mention of loss of loved ones. ☪Extra note: Accepting requests! Wanting to get back into writing but I tend to struggle thinking of new ideas- tend to lean towards certain characters that I have a better understanding of their personality but open to anything! ♡

-`♡´-Jing yuan who names your adoptive daughter Mimi after his beloved companion . -`♡´-Jing yuan who juggles being a father and a father figure between your sweet girl and Yanqing. -`♡´-Jing yuan who goes out of his way to include the boy under his guidance into your little family, with you both treating him as you would your own child. -`♡´-Jing yuan who brings your daughter with him anywhere he can, making sure she's treated with more respect than anyone on the Lufou. -`♡´-Jing yuan who shows off his daughter to all his closest friends, with Fu xuan having a soft spot towards the little girl, not that she'd willingly admit to it. -`♡´-Jing yuan who's nickname for your toddler is "snowy" to match her name and it's origins.

♱✮♱ Blade who often forgets about your son, leaving him under the care of silverwolf when you're both busy with missions. ♱✮♱ Blade who spends most of the time just sitting near the child, making sure he causes no trouble with minimal interference. ♱✮♱ Blade who despite how he portrays himself, cares for the toddler beyond belief, willing to draw his blade at any malicious attempt directed towards the young child. ♱✮♱ Blade who would lay with your child for hours at a time, letting him sleep without disturbance while he contemplates life. ♱✮♱ Blade who has part of him that wishes you both would have entered his life earlier, before the mara took root in his body and not being cursed with immortality, inevitably knowing he'd lose you both one day. ♱✮♱ Blade who nicknames your boy "gremlin", often using it more than his actual name

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Sunday who heavily relies on Robin for help with your daughter when he's unavailable as head of the family. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Sunday who spends all his free time that he can with the both of you, walking around the dreamscape or relaxing together in your shared home. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Sunday who has learnt to be careful around the little girl, having had his wings locked in her iron grasp on multiple occasions, needing to wait for you to pry her hands open. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Sunday who holds your daughter in his arms as she dozes off after a long day, taking a moment to let himself rest while you preen his scuffed up feathers. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Sunday who let's your daughter hang off him, adding hair clip after hair clip to his now mangled grey hair. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Sunday who often calls your small toddler "angel", though he begins to question how fitting it is with her mischievous habits.

• ➵ ✩ Boothill who dedicates his whole being to protecting your daughter, unwilling to even consider the possibility of losing another one of his babies. • ➵ ✩ Boothill who talks about his little girl to your toddler, including her in your family even if it's only in spirit, always mentioning his two baby girls when family discussions occur. • ➵ ✩ Boothill who accidently teaches your child his censored version of any and every curse word in his vocabulary, panicking when she runs up to you shouting them. • ➵ ✩ Boothill who never takes his family time for granted, spending as much time playing with your child and showering you with affection before he's sent on a new mission after another target. • ➵ ✩ Boothill who was stuck digging pieces of crayon that melted together after your daughter shoved them in the holes of his metal plating when he was asleep, having little help from you who couldn't contain your laughter. • ➵ ✩ Boothill who often just calls your little girl sweetheart or honey, finding the simplicity more endearing.

・✎・Dr Ratio who despite his blunt personality, manages to be a good father to your son, with you both providing what you can for the young child. ・✎・Dr Ratio who sometimes forgets the mental capacity of a younger being, trying to teach him how to play chess so he has a partner for the game. ・✎・Dr Ratio who occasionally brings your sons to lectures, finding amusement in the child laughing when he insults one of his students. ・✎・Dr Ratio who maintains your child a safe distance from anything he deems could harm him, including his colleagues at work, especially a certain gambler who just adores the boy. ・✎・Dr Ratio who spends any free moment at home with the both of you, helping you around the house and being present whenever your child calls for him. ・✎・Dr Ratio who prides himself in his sons intelligence, calling him his "little genius" even if he's currently a little behind.

[imagineshere-forall]

- the calendar ✰ e. buckley (smut version)

Summary: an unexpected person stars for the 118 in the firefighter calendar  Genre: angst & smut Warnings: smut (quickie at work, oral m receiving, unprotected p in v) & swearing & jealousy  Pairing: evan buckley x fem!reader Word count: 2.6k Note: this is my first ever time writing smut so pls pls be kind (or i’ll cry) but also pls leave constructive criticism, if it is bad i need to know so i can get better.

Due to the strict ‘no fraternisation’ rule at the 118, you and Evan had kept your relationship a secret. There had been a few times where someone had nearly caught the two of you, including Eddie walking into the shower room while you and Buck were sharing one cubicle, but no one had caught on yet. In this scenario, Buck had quickly picked you up, wrapped your legs around his waist and covered your mouth with his hand. 

Everyone had just assumed the two of you were best friends, you guys had lots of inside jokes and were always working out together, and today was no different. All the men were working out extra hard as the firefighter calendar had just been announced and they were all fighting to star.

Last year, Chimney had surprised everyone and had represented the 118 in the calendar, so the competition was on. Today was the last day of submissions, and impulsively you had decided to enter some photos for the calendar. You didn't need to take any new photos as for Buck’s birthday the month before, you had done a sexy photoshoot and periodically sent them to him, printing off a few which he kept in his wallet. 

After the submissions had closed, everyone had been eagerly checking the mail for the calendar delivery as they had decided not to announce who was featuring for each firehouse prior to the release. 

Weeks later, you walked into the fire house and were met with whistles by some of the men who you had not spoken to much. Forgetting you had submitted pictures for the calendar you were confused at the sudden attention you were receiving. 

“Why is everyone being so weird today?” you asked walking up to Hen, who was also looking at you funny.

“You don’t know?” questioned Hen, to which you simply shook your head.

“Good morning, Miss August!” Eddie exclaimed as he saw you appear upstairs. Suddenly the pieces clicked together, you must have been picked for the calendar.

“Miss August? What are you talking about?” Evan looked up, pausing as he poured himself a drink.

“y/n here, was chosen to represent the 118 in the firefighter calendar.” Eddie said as he pulled the calendar off the wall, flicking to August.

Suddenly, you were met with a picture of you on your knees, wearing your fireproof trousers but no top, the suspenders on your trousers over your shoulders, giving you a small bit of modesty. The strips of fabric only just covered your nipples, the outline of piercings visible through the fabric of the suspenders. 

You looked up to Buck whose jaw clenched as he took in the picture before him, which he had seen before, as a copy of it lived behind his driver's license in his wallet. You could see as he tried to regain his composure before deciding what to say next. 

“I, uh, I wasn't aware you had submitted pictures for the calendar?” Buck questioned, his voice wavering as he tried to hide his agitation. Now, Buck was usually not a jealous guy, but seeing that picture of you on display on the wall of the firehouse made him want to drive to every firehouse and rip up all the copies of the calendar that had been printed. 

“Yeah, I did it on the last day of submissions, I didn't think I'd get picked so I just forgot about it,” you smiled as you spoke to Evan. The two of you held eye contact, not paying attention to the rest of the crew bustling around you. “I must admit I was confused with the wolf whistles when I walked in this morning.” 

This sentence triggered Evan’s protectiveness.

“People have been whistling at you? Who? Point them out.” Buck demanded as he walked over to the balcony overlooking the main floor.

“Buck, dude, calm down,” Eddie said as he walked over to Buck “She’s single, and she looks great, of course there’s gonna be some attention.”

“Oh yeah, of course,” Buck said, rubbing the back of his neck. Eddie looked at Buck as he paced, clearly confused by his behaviour.

“Oh y/n, I’ve been meaning to get your help with something, could you come help me?” Buck asked, ignoring the looks Eddie was sending his way.

“Uhh, yeah, just let me drop my bag,” you said as you headed to go put it down.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” Buck grabbed your bag and walked to the locker room downstairs and put it in your locker. 

“Buck?” You asked repeatedly as you followed him, getting louder each time until he finally stopped pacing in the locker room. 

“Sorry, it’s just, I don’t like everyone seeing you like that,” Buck whispers as he walks towards you. Thankfully the two of you were in a blindspot to the rest of the firehouse so no one could see as he put his hand up to your face and raised your chin so you were looking into his eyes. “Everyone keeps looking at you, because they think you’re single and I just wish I could tell everyone you’re mine.”

“I’m sorry Buck, I should’ve asked you first,” you whispered.

“No, no, it’s your body and you look great in those photos. I just get a little insecure sometimes,” Buck whispered, fiddling with your fingers as you spoke. 

“I love you Buck.”

“I love you too. Also, I’m going to be having a boner for the entire month of August at work now, so thank you for that.” Buck laughed

“You know, my shift hasn’t officially started, and I was thinking I needed a shower. Plus, jealous Buck is kind of hot.” you said as you pulled Buck towards the showers.

“That's interesting, because I was thinking I needed a shower after that last call,” Buck said as he used his free hand to start unbuttoning his shirt. 

“You definitely do,” You said as you started to unbutton your own shirt. 

Buck’s hands quickly copied yours and raced to unbutton his shirt, as he did he leant forward and harshly attached your lips to his. With your shirt unbuttoned, you placed your hands on Buck’s shoulders, pushing him into the shower cubicle behind the pair of you and easing the shirt off his torso. You and Evan moved in sync as he simultaneously pushed your shirt off your shoulders.

Your feet tangled together as you passionately tumbled into the cubicle. With your lips still locked you reached down and began undoing your belt, Buck quickly following suit. Within seconds, both of your clothing was heaped on the bench, leaving the pair of you in your underwear. 

You reached your hand down between the two of you and you could feel Buck’s hardness through his underwear. You gently palmed him, causing him to groan and lean into you. He very quickly shed his underwear in a desperate effort to feel your skin on his. 

You separated your lips, causing Buck to groan at the loss of contact. Buck’s disappointment was short lived as you began to kiss your way down his neck and his torso. As you dropped to your knees you looked up at Buck who gently stroked your head, beginning to clasp your hair into a ponytail. 

You leant forward and used your hand to hold Buck as you began to deliver small licks to his tip, causing Buck to groan loudly. 

“Please stop teasing,” Buck whimpered. At this you took him in your mouth causing him to drop his head back against the wall in pleasure. 

As you knew your time was likely to be cut short any moment, you sped up your bobbing on Buck’s cock. After a minute you removed Buck from your mouth and licked a stripe all along the underside of him and cradled his balls as your tongue serviced him. 

“Get up here, I’m going to finish soon if you keep that up,” Buck pulled your head away from his crotch and pulled you up so you were standing again. As you stood, precum and saliva leaked from your mouth and you wiped your mouth as you looked back at Buck.

He quickly reached behind and unclasped your bra, kissing your neck and chest as he did so. He kissed down the gap between your breasts and then paid attention to your nipples. He took one of your nipples in his mouth and swirled his tongue around the piercing that lived there, while his other hand twisted your other nipple. Unable to speak from the sensations, you just moaned in pleasure, holding tightly onto the curls at the nape of Buck’s neck. 

His lips went back up to your neck, and his hand went down to your underwear and started pushing your panties off your hips and helping you step out of them. Once your underwear was flung to somewhere in the cubicle his fingers danced over your pelvis before landing on your clit. He rubbed gently with his thumb before his fingers slowly worked their way down to your opening. His fingers gently pressed against your thighs, encouraging you to slightly part them to give him better access. 

“You are so beautiful,” Buck breathed. His face was mere millimeters from yours, with his curls sticking to his forehead from the sweat of the excitement. 

“Buck please,” You groaned, his fingers were slowly exploring you, causing you to gently bite down on his muscular shoulder. 

“Please what baby? I need to hear your words,” he breathed heavily. His fingers were delicately reaching the most pleasurable place while his thumb worked your clit. 

“I, I need your cock, please” You spoke breathlessly. Despite being with Buck many times, the passion had never ceased and every single time with him was exhilarating. 

“Where baby? Where?” He teased. He knew damn well where, he just loved watching you writhe under his thumb. 

“B-Buck, Please, in-inside,” Every syllable was hard for you to push out as you edged closer to the brink. 

“Just let go first,” He said. As he did, you felt your legs begin to wobble, luckily Buck had began to hold you up with his other hand before. You let out a loud moan as he fingered you over the edge and then he quickly retracted his fingers. He maintained eye contact as he licked your juices off his two fingers. 

“Delicious,” he muttered. 

“I think we’re going to need this for the noise,” Buck said as he leant past the wall and turned the shower on. You both stood in the far end of the shower part of the cubicle as you had learnt the hard way that shower sex, under the water, was very dangerous and ended up in fits of giggles. 

Buck grabbed your thighs and lifted you up, pressed your back into the wall and littered your neck in light kisses. 

“Who’s teasing now?” You asked as you felt Buck’s length gently stroke your pussy but not going in. He breathed a laugh and pressed his lips to yours for a moment. 

“As you wish ma’am,” Buck whispered as he maneuvered himself to your entrance. You hissed as he started to push himself into you. Another thing you were not used to despite being with Buck so many times, was his size. 

“More, please.” you grunted, trying to grind yourself into him to get him deeper. 

At your request, Buck’s hands tightened on your thighs, his mouth attacking your neck and pushed himself all the way in. For a moment, he stilled, allowing you to get accustomed to him and then slowly began to thrust. 

Each thrust hit you so deeply, putting you in a state of bliss. So much so, that you nearly didn’t hear the door to the bathroom open. You quickly tapped Buck’s shoulder to alert him as he was borderline drunk on you, and could not form a coherent thought, let alone be aware of his surroundings. 

“Buck? Is that you?” Eddie’s voice rang out.

“Y-Yeah,” Buck stuttered. He was still inside you and struggled to reply without moaning. You gently pushed your hips into him in a desperate need for friction. 

“Are you okay? You sound funny?” Eddie asked. This made you nearly laugh so one of Buck’s hands quickly covered your mouth, and he glared into your eyes. 

“All good, water just went cold,” He shouted back, focusing on trying to sound normal.

“Have you seen y/n? Her shift is about to start and we need to do a handover?” Eddie asked. 

“I think I saw her take a phone call, I’m sure she will be back in any minute,” Buck replied as he slowly began pulling himself out of you. 

“Okay, thanks. See you back upstairs when you’re done” Eddie said.

“I’ll be done any minute,” Buck smirked as he slowly re-entered you. 

You both waited for the bathroom door to close, and once it did Buck began pistoning his hips into you at an ungodly pace. You must have looked like a mess as you leant back into the wall, holding tightly his shoulders. 

“Buck, please,” you moaned. He reached on of his hands down between you and rubbed your clit causing you to lean forward and bit his shoulder. 

“I’m so close,” He grunted as he continued to pound into you, his pace unrelenting. 

The edges of your vision began to blur as you felt yourself getting closer and closer. The coil in the pit of your torso clenched so tight until you finally let go. Your legs began shaking, unable to catch your breath as you came all over his cock. 

Buck kept his pace as he worked his way to his end, his load shooting deep inside you as you milked him. He leant forward, his forehead against yours as he tried to regain his breath. He was still inside you and was still leaking cum as he kissed you gently.

Once you had both caught your breath, he slowly pulled out of you and set you gently on the floor. 

“That was amazing,” he sighed as he began to get feeling back in his legs. 

“Now I really need a shower,” you said as you pushed the two of you under the water, beginning to wash the two of you. “I love you, Evan.”

He gently kissed you on the shoulder before lathering the two of you up with soap. The next few minutes were spent with him delicately washing you, and then you him. 

This moment of intimacy felt so special, you almost didn’t want to get out of the shower. You were in pure bliss in this moment with him.

“You are the love of my life,” Evan breathed as he kissed you gently. 

[darlingdaisyfarm]

⋆｡‧˚ʚ 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

⸝⸝ 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒍𝒆𝒚, 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒅, 𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒍, 𝒇𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒅 ⸝⸝

a/n: i was thinking about this for a while and just HAD to write it!! Bill's a little freaky but ok. everyone kisses differently and i love how much that says about them :) maybe i'll do a part two tho idk if it'll be smth nsfw or no. also sorry if photos are random i just think it suits gravity falls aesthetic plus i was out of ideas (i want summer)

𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒍𝒆𝒚

Stan’s got a thing for forehead kisses, always has, always will. they’re effortless and easy. a quick press of his lips when he passes by, a habit more than anything. he’s a busy man, always moving, always going somewhere, but that doesn’t mean he won’t grab you, tilt your head up and press a warm kiss right to your forehead

it's a way of saying “i gotcha” without actually saying it. doesn’t matter if he’s in a rush, grumbling about tourists, wiping down the counter. he’ll keep you safe. he swears it.

big, warm hands cupping your face. his lips are warm, his stubble scratches against your skin but the moment you start to melt he’s gone.

he pulls back, smirks, winking at you

“gotta give the tourists their money’s worth, sweetheart.” you hear his voice through the walls of the Mystery Shack, always so confident as he launches into his usual con. “step right up, folks! come see the eighth wonder of the world!”

but, oh, don’t let that fool you. he’s a tease, and he knows it.

he’s got another favorite, too

your neck

he makes a game of it. a teasing peck when he leans in to tell you something. a slow, tender kiss at the curve of your throat when he’s feeling particularly smug, when he’s got you pinned between him and the kitchen counter, when he knows you’re hanging on to every little touch.

“heh. what’s that face for, baby? didn’t think id be so smooth, huh?”

he’s a biter, too, making you shiver. he needs to feel the way you react beneath his hands. he likes knowing he can fluster you. likes leaving you breathless, just for him.

and if he’s feeling real bold, his lips might stray lower, making a slow, lazy path along your collarbone. “what? somethin’ wrong? i think I’m right where i wanna be.”

𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒅

Ford kisses like a man who’s spent most of his life not kissing anyone, like someone who’s read about it, thought about it, imagined it, but never quite gotten the chance. but when he feels the warmth, the closeness, how intimate it is he can’t stop.

he kisses your hands first, always. fingertips, knuckles, the inside of your wrist where your pulse flutters

your shoulders come next. he’ll press his lips there absently while he’s working, when you’re standing beside him reading over his notes. sometimes, he forgets himself, murmuring a distracted “mm, love you” against your skin before his smart brain catches up with his mouth. and oh the way his ears burn when you point it out

also when he’s overwhelmed, when the world is too much, when his mind is too loud, he rests his forehead there, brushing his lips against the curve of your shoulder. he just wants to feel you close

but when he’s really feeling it, when he’s past overthinking and just wants you, it's your calves. he kneels. Ford takes his time, hands so big, shaking a little as he presses his thumb into muscle while tracing a slow path from your ankle up, up, up with his lips

“you never let me appreciate you properly.” he worships you. lets you feel it in every single careful, thorough kiss.

𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒉𝒆𝒓

Bill isn’t bound by flesh, but he's bound by desire

he loves mirrors. loves floating there behind you, his golden triangle form looming over you, all-seeing eye staring right into your soul. oh he loves the way you shudder when you see yourself in the reflection, when you see him, wrapping around you

thousands of long, dark limbs curl around your waist, a hand-like thing at your jaw, tilting your head to the side, exposing your skin to him. Bill's mouth appears where his eye should be and oh, that tongue. . .

“nervous, sweet thing? don’t be. i’ll take real good care of ya.”

his tongue is long. obscenely so. it drags over your throat, a slow, hot stroke that sends a jolt straight through you. you hear him laugh delightfully against your skin, because he knows exactly what he’s doing

“aww who’s my favorite little human, huh? who’s my delicious little slab of meat?”

kiss after kiss, mark after mark, he makes you watch. makes you see the way he devours you.

and he doesn’t stop at your neck, oh no, no, no. he follows your spine. mouth pressing open. dragging his long tongue against the curve of your back, your chest, your stomach

“every inch of you is mine. dont you forget that.”

𝒇𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒎𝒄𝒈𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒕

Fidds kisses every part of you that makes him smile.

“well, ain’t you the cutest lil’ thing!”

your cheeks. he just can’t help himself, he sees your face and boom! instant smooch. one cheek, then the other, peppering you with quick, excited little kisses

he giggles into kisses. always, always grinning. pecks to your cheek when he’s working, smooches to your temple when you bring him a snack, laughter between every single kiss because he can’t believe his luck.

“gotcha! hehehe, ya oughta see the look on yer face!”

your nose is next. he thinks it’s adorable. boop. peck. boop. peck

“who’s the cutest thing in the whole dang world? ohhhh, that’s right, it’s you!”

sometimes he’s so excited he forgets to aim and accidentally bumps his nose against yours, which only makes him laugh more

but the most special place, the sweetest is your eyelids.

he does it when you’re falling asleep, when you’re curling against him, feeling safe and warm. a press of lips to your closed eyes, so feather-light

“rest easy, darlin’. im right here.” and if he wakes up before you, if the morning sun is spilling golden across your skin, he does it again

because he loves you. because he just can’t help it

[cherryxbooo]

omg i love your mason fic, the angst one. please write more angst i love your writings!!

Lost me forever

Summary: You thought you had finally found 'the one' and that you were the first choice all along, but that was until the truth finally came to light.

Note: Thank you so much lovely! As for the angst request, your wish is my command! I chose to write this for Mason since I found it fitting. Hope you enjoy it!

Reader x Mason Mount

Genre: Angst

Loving Mason Mount felt like the easiest thing in the world.

It was effortless, like breathing, like waking up to golden sunlight streaming through the curtains, warming my skin before his arms ever had the chance.

From the moment we found our way to each other, it felt like the universe had been waiting for it to happen.

Like everything before him had been grayscale, and he was the color I’d been missing.

He made life feel lighter, and softer. It wasn’t just the grand moments, it was the little things.

Like the way his fingers would find mine beneath restaurant tables, absently tracing patterns against my palm as he listened to me talk.

Or how he would pull me back into bed on Sunday mornings, refusing to let me go,

his voice thick with sleep as he mumbled, “Five more minutes, baby. Just five more.”

And we both knew it would never be just five.

It was the way he’d insist on carrying my books when he met me outside my lectures, even though I told him I could handle it.

“I know you can, but I like taking care of you,” he’d say, pressing a kiss to my temple before reaching for my bag anyway.

Late-night drives with the windows down, my feet propped up on the dashboard as he glanced over at me, grinning like I was his favorite sight in the world.

“You know I love you, right?” he'd say out of nowhere, his voice soft but certain.

And every time, my heart would stumble over itself as I whispered back,

“Yeah. I know. I love you too.”

The way he’d tuck me into his chest on the couch, his fingers running lazily through my hair as we half-watched a movie, more focused on each other than whatever was playing.

Or how he’d tease me when I got grumpy, pressing exaggerated kisses all over my face until I was laughing, pushing him away only for him to pull me right back.

He made me feel adored. Cherished.

Like I was his entire world.

And for a while, I truly believed he loved me just as much as I loved him.

But I didn’t realize that, all along, he was still orbiting around someone else.

The change was subtle at first. So subtle that I almost convinced myself it wasn’t happening.

At first, it was little things.

Mason would forget to text me back, not just for a few minutes, but for hours.

I’d send him something funny, something I knew would’ve made him laugh before, and the read receipt would linger, unanswered.

Maybe he’s busy. Maybe he’s just tired. I made excuses, brushing it off like it wasn’t the start of something unraveling.

Then he started canceling plans last minute.

"Sorry, something came up. Training ran late. I’m exhausted, let’s do tomorrow?"

Tomorrow would turn into the next day, then the next, until suddenly, I realized I was the only one trying to reschedule.

Our deep, intimate conversations, the ones where we’d stay up until three in the morning talking about everything and nothing, where he’d tell me about his childhood dreams, his fears, the things he never admitted to anyone else, turned into empty small talk.

"How was your day? Did you eat?"

His words felt distant, mechanical, like he was just going through the motions.

I tried to ignore the way his responses lacked warmth, the way he barely asked about me anymore.

And when we were together, it felt like he wasn’t really there.

He’d sit next to me on the couch, but his body was tense, like he was waiting for an excuse to leave.

He’d hold my hand, but it didn’t feel the same, his grip wasn’t as firm, as reassuring.

His kisses were quick, and absentminded, like they were more of a habit than something he wanted to do.

The worst part? He stopped looking at me like he used to.

The light in his eyes, the way they used to soften when they met mine, it was gone.

Now, when I caught him staring, it felt like he was searching for something that wasn’t there anymore.

I tried not to let it bother me. I told myself it was stress, that he was overwhelmed with training, with matches, with the constant pressure to perform.

It has nothing to do with me. I repeated it like a mantra, like if I said it enough, I’d believe it.

But deep down, I felt it.

The distance. The absence of his warmth.

The quiet way he was slipping away from me, little by little, day by day.

Then came the late nights.

I’d wake up to an empty bed, the sheets cold where he should’ve been.

At first, I thought maybe he couldn’t sleep, maybe he was just restless.

But then I heard it. The hushed whispers from the other room, the way his voice softened in a way it never did with me anymore.

The first time, I told myself I was imagining things.

The second time, I told myself it was probably a teammate.

The third time, I stopped lying to myself.

Because when I walked in too quickly, when I caught him sitting on the edge of the couch, phone pressed to his ear, he snapped his head up so fast it was like he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to.

His expression shifted, just for a second, before he forced a smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he murmured, shoving his phone into his pocket.

“Didn’t wanna wake you.”

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to trust him like I always had.

But my heart was screaming at me. Telling me something was wrong.

I just didn’t want to ask.

Because I already knew I wouldn’t like the answer.

The night everything fell apart,

I was at Mason’s place, curled up on his couch, wrapped in the blanket he always draped over my shoulders whenever I got cold.

It smelled like him, like the faint traces of his cologne mixed with something unmistakably him, something that once made me feel safe.

I had been waiting for him to get back from training, my phone resting loosely in my hand as I scrolled absentmindedly, not really paying attention to anything on the screen.

The TV hummed softly in the background, playing an episode of a show we had started together but never finished.

He used to insist on waiting for me before watching the next one. Lately, he didn’t wait anymore.

I tried not to think about it too much.

I tried not to think about any of it too much.

The unanswered texts. The canceled plans.

The way his kisses felt like muscle memory instead of something he wanted.

I had spent weeks, months, convincing myself that this was just a rough patch.

That things would go back to normal once the season settled, once the stress faded, once he had time to breathe.

That we would go back to normal.

I wasn’t looking for answers that night.

I wasn’t searching for proof that something was wrong.

But sometimes, the truth doesn’t wait for you to be ready.

Sometimes, it finds you when you least expect it.

And that night, it found me in the form of an unexpected message on Mason’s laptop.

The screen lit up suddenly, casting a soft glow over the coffee table. At first, I barely noticed.

I was too lost in my own head, too focused on distracting myself from the gnawing ache in my chest.

I wasn’t the kind of person to snoop. I had never needed to be.

I trusted Mason.

Or at least, I thought I did.

But then, my eyes flickered to the name at the top of the message.

And my heart stopped.

Her name.

His ex Charlotte.

I stared at it, my breath catching in my throat.

It was just a name. Just a simple notification.

And yet, it felt like the ground beneath me had shifted.

There was no reason for them to be talking. No good reason, at least.

Mason never spoke about her. He had told me, once, that their story was over.

That I was the only one he saw a future with. That she was a part of his past, and that’s where she would stay.

I wanted to believe him. I had believed him.

So then why was she here, on his screen, reaching out like she had never really left?

For a moment, I hesitated.

I wanted to look away, to pretend I hadn’t seen it, to act like it was just some meaningless message.

That would be easier, wouldn’t it? I could go back to the way things were, smiling through the doubt, pushing aside the way he had been slipping away from me piece by piece.

But then I saw the preview of the message.

Just a few words.

But they were enough to send ice through my veins.

I miss you.

My hands shook as I reached for the laptop.

My heart pounded against my ribs, screaming at me, begging me to stop.

But I couldn’t.

I clicked on the message.

Then another. And another.

And with every message I read, my world crumbled around me.

It wasn’t just casual conversation.

It wasn’t Hey, how have you been? or Hope you're doing well.

It was confessions whispered in the dead of night.

It was I think about you all the time.

It was I miss everything about you.

It was Being with her doesn’t feel the same.

It was I still love you.

The air rushed from my lungs.

I blinked. Once. Twice.

Waiting, praying, for the words to change.

For my eyes to be playing tricks on me.

But they didn’t change.

They sat there, staring back at me like undeniable proof that I had been living in a lie.

Every moment Mason and I had shared, every soft I love you, every late-night conversation, every time he had pulled me close and promised me forever, it had all been meaningless.

I had just been something to fill the space she left behind.

A placeholder.

A distraction.

A way for him to forget the girl he really wanted.

And the worst part?

I never even saw it coming.

I had been so sure of him. So sure of us.

I had loved him with everything I had, blind to the fact that his heart had never really been mine to begin with.

Tears blurred my vision, but I couldn’t cry. Not yet.

Not until I heard the sound of keys jingling at the door.

Mason was home.

And I had a choice to make.

Pretend I hadn’t seen anything, pretend I hadn’t fallen apart while reading his betrayal in black and white.

Or look him in the eye and ask the question I already knew the answer to.

When Mason walked through the door, tired and unsuspecting, his duffel bag slung lazily over his shoulder, I felt my entire body lock up.

He ran a hand through his damp hair, his shirt sticking slightly to his skin from the shower he took after training, and for a fleeting second,

I saw the version of him I used to love, the boy who used to make me feel like the center of his world.

But that version of Mason didn’t exist anymore.

He didn’t know it yet, but I had seen everything.

His lips parted slightly when his eyes landed on me, confusion flickering across his face as he took in my stiff posture, the way my arms were crossed tightly over my chest like they were the only thing keeping me together.

His gaze shifted to the coffee table, to where his laptop sat open, the screen still glowing.

He didn’t know yet, but he would.

The air in the room shifted.

"Hey, love." His voice was soft, familiar, too familiar.

Like he hadn’t just shattered me beyond repair.

I didn’t respond.

I reached for the laptop, my movements slow, deliberate, my fingers curling around the edges before I threw it onto the table between us.

The loud smack echoed in the silent apartment.

Mason flinched slightly, his brows knitting together. “What the hell—”

"Tell me the truth." My voice trembled, but there was an edge to it, sharp enough to cut.

His eyes darted between mine, searching, confused. “Y/n, what—”

I lifted a hand and pointed at the screen, my entire body trembling with the weight of what I had just discovered.

"Don’t. Just tell me the truth."

His eyes flickered down.

And in that moment, I saw everything.

The way his entire body tensed.

The way his face lost its color, his jaw tightening as his throat bobbed.

The way his fingers twitched at his sides, his breathing suddenly uneven.

He didn’t have to say anything.

I already knew.

But I wanted him to say it.

I wanted him to look me in the eye and own what he had done.

He let out a slow, shaky breath, his lips pressing together as if he was trying to find the right words.

"It’s not what you think—"

A bitter laugh burst from my lips before I could stop it.

I felt something inside me snap.

"Not what I think?" I repeated, my voice rising, the disbelief dripping from every syllable.

I jabbed a finger toward the screen, toward her name, toward the messages that had destroyed me.

“So you didn’t tell her you missed her? You didn’t tell her being with me wasn’t the same? You didn’t tell her you still love her?”

Mason inhaled sharply, his lips parting like he wanted to deny it,

God, I wanted him to deny it, but no words came.

His silence was louder than any excuse he could’ve made.

My throat tightened, the lump there threatening to choke me, but I refused to let him see me break.

I had already given him too much of me. I wouldn’t give him this too.

"Was I ever anything more than a rebound to you?" I whispered.

His face crumbled.

"Y/n—"

"Answer me!" I snapped, my voice cracking.

His lips pressed into a thin line. His hands curled into fists at his sides.

And then, hesitation.

Just a second. Just the briefest pause.

But that was all I needed.

I let out a sharp breath, my hands trembling as I wiped at my eyes, willing the tears away.

"I hope she was worth it, Mason." The words felt like acid on my tongue.

I turned away, grabbing my bag from the couch with numb fingers, my entire body screaming at me to run, run, run.

"Y/n, wait—" His voice cracked.

I felt his hand wrap around my wrist, not rough, not forceful, just desperate.

For the first time, I looked at him, really looked at him.

His face was drawn, his eyes wide, pleading.

His grip on my wrist tightened slightly, like he was afraid that if he let go, I’d disappear.

"Please." His voice was barely above a whisper.

I swallowed hard, my chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.

"You don’t get to do that," I said, my voice barely steady.

I yanked my wrist free, stepping back.

"You don’t get to break me and then ask me to stay."

Mason exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face, through his hair, looking more panicked now.

“I never meant—” He cut himself off like the words physically hurt to say.

I shook my head. “You never meant for me to find out.”

Silence.

He didn’t argue.

He didn’t fight for me.

Because he knew.

He knew there was nothing left to fight for.

I felt a sob clawing at my throat, but I swallowed it down.

I refused to break in front of him.

I took a shaky step back. Then another.

"Goodbye, Mason."

And then I turned.

I walked to the door, my steps unsteady, my hands trembling as I reached for the handle.

"Y/n." My name was a whisper, a plea.

I didn’t stop.

I didn’t look back.

And Mason didn’t stop me.

Because he knew, he had already lost me. Lost me forever.

Mason stood there,

This is what he wanted right?

Now he could go back to Charlotte without having to hide it.

But if this was what he wanted, why did he feel so guilty? Why does it feel like he has lost something big? Why was he feeling... regret?

Mason shrugged off those feelings before muttering "She was just a rebound, this is what I wanted right?"

And that was all it took for him to move on.

Well at least for now.

Mason got back together with his ex two weeks later.

At first, it felt right.

She was familiar. She was comfortable. She was the girl he had spent so long missing, the one who had haunted his thoughts even when he was with Y/n.

For a brief moment, he convinced himself he had made the right choice.

But then, the cracks started to show.

The first time he noticed it was during dinner.

They sat across from each other at a high-end restaurant she had insisted on, a place where the food was overpriced and the lighting dim enough to make everything look perfect for Instagram.

Mason had been talking about his match earlier that day, how exhausted he was, how he’d nearly scored but missed by inches.

She didn’t even look up from her phone.

"That’s nice, babe," she murmured, her perfectly manicured fingers typing away.

He stared at her, waiting, expecting her to say more.

She didn’t.

Instead, she snapped a photo of their untouched plates, adjusted the lighting, and posted it with a caption that had nothing to do with him.

That was just the beginning.

The thoughtful gestures, the ones Y/n had done so naturally, were gone.

There were no lazy Sunday mornings where she curled into his chest, tracing mindless patterns on his skin.

No soft kisses just because.

No remembering how he liked his tea or sneaking his favorite snacks into the fridge after a long day.

Charlotte wasn’t cruel. She wasn’t awful. She was just… absent.

It was clear she loved the idea of him, the status, the lifestyle, the way people looked at them when they walked into a room together.

But him? The man behind the footballer, the one with worries and insecurities, the one who needed comfort just as much as anyone else?

She didn’t see him.

And suddenly, Mason realized, he had been chasing a ghost.

The woman he had truly loved, the one who had memorized every detail about him, who had supported him through every loss, who had loved him for the man and not the player, was gone.

Y/n had been that woman.

His Y/n.

And he had thrown her away like she was nothing.

One night, after another meaningless fight, this time over why he wasn’t posting her on social media enough, he sat alone in his apartment, scrolling through his camera roll.

The pictures of Y/n were still there.

Her smile, so genuine.

The way she looked at him like he was her entire world.

The little videos she had taken when he wasn’t paying attention, him cooking, him laughing at something dumb, him asleep with his arm wrapped around her waist like he never wanted to let go.

He had been so loved.

And he had destroyed it.

By the time he realized his mistake, it was too late.

Y/n had vanished from his life.

Blocked his number. Deleted their pictures. Disappeared without a trace.

At first, he thought maybe she just needed time.

That eventually, she’d cool down, pick up one of his calls, and answer one of his texts.

She never did.

He tried her best friend.

"She doesn’t want anything to do with you."

He tried her family.

"Mason, you hurt her. Let her go."

Her colleagues, her neighbors, nobody would tell him where she was.

And then, one day, when he came to her house once again he heard one of her neighbors call out for him.

"You should stop trying son. Didn't you hear? She left the country."

His stomach dropped.

"What?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, she moved. Took some big job offer or something. Left everything behind."

Mason’s heart pounded in his chest.

She had left.

His Y/n had left.

Started fresh. Moved somewhere new. Somewhere he could never reach her.

And for the first time in his life, Mason Mount, who had always been able to fix his mistakes, to win people back with a smile or an apology, knew he had lost her forever.

And this time, there was no getting her back.

That night, I made my decision.

I sat in my apartment, staring at the email that had been sitting in my inbox for days.

A job offer.

My dream job. The one I had turned down for him.

For so long, I had let my love for Mason dictate my every move.

I had stayed when I should have gone, let him convince me that we were enough, that we could make a future together.

I had put his dreams, his career, his needs first, and let mine slip into the background.

But that future didn’t exist anymore.

And now? I had nothing left to lose.

So, I took a deep breath, wiped away the last of my tears, tears that had been falling for weeks now, and clicked accept.

The next few weeks passed in a blur of packing, selling off things I didn’t need, and coming to terms with the fact that I was leaving the place that had once felt like home.

It wasn’t easy, but it was necessary.

"Are you sure about this?" my best friend asked, standing in the middle of my now half-empty apartment.

I exhaled slowly, trying to hold it together.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

And I meant it.

The morning of my flight, I did one last thing before leaving.

I blocked Mason. Everywhere.

His number. His Instagram. His Twitter. His email.

I erased him the way he had erased me.

And then I left.

As the plane took off and the city shrank beneath me, I finally felt it. The weight lifting from my chest.

The space inside me that had been filled with doubt, uncertainty, and longing, is now empty but... free.

A new country. A new life. A fresh start.

No more waiting for someone to choose me.

This time, I was choosing myself.

And Mason?

He was just a chapter in a book I had already finished reading.

Mason thought he had made the right choice.

He thought that getting back with his ex would fill the emptiness he felt after losing Y/n, but all it did was magnify the hollowness in his chest.

It was then, in the quiet moments of the night when he lay awake in his bed, that it hit him.

Y/n had been the one.

She had been the one who truly understood him.

The one who saw the person behind the jersey, behind the fame, behind the image.

She was the one who had loved him for him, not for the trophies or the spotlight.

And he had thrown it all away.

He had thrown her away.

But now, it was too late.

The more he tried to convince himself that things were fine, the more he realized that nothing felt right.

His ex wasn’t the person he needed.

And he was so damn lonely.

Training started slipping. He missed passes, lost focus, and the frustration was unbearable.

His coach started noticing, and his teammates were starting to get concerned.

He couldn’t even summon the motivation to push himself. Every match felt pointless, every goal out of reach.

He couldn’t concentrate. His heart wasn’t in it anymore.

His head wasn’t in it. His life wasn’t in it.

And the worst part?

He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Y/n.

The way she would smile at him after a tough day, the way her laugh would fill the room like music.

The way she would hold him close when he was stressed or frustrated, as if just being near her was enough to make everything better.

The way she’d remember the smallest details about him, how she would surprise him with his favorite snacks or take care of him when he was sick.

He had taken it all for granted.

And now, he would never have it again.

One night, after yet another argument with his ex, something about him not being “present enough”

Mason sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his phone.

He had tried calling Y/n again. She didn’t answer.

Of course, she wasn't going to answer.

She had blocked him everywhere, but every day he hoped that for some magical reason, she would've unblocked him everywhere.

He checked his messages, hoping, praying, that maybe, just maybe, she would reach out. But nothing.

It was as if she had vanished from his life completely.

And that’s when the weight of it all crashed down.

He realized that he had let her slip through his fingers, and now, she was gone.

For good.

Days blurred together as Mason sank deeper into his depression. His training was a mess.

His performance on the field was getting worse by the day.

His teammates were starting to notice his lack of focus and his erratic behavior. He didn’t care. He couldn’t care.

And then, it hit him like a slap in the face.

It was Y/n all along, not Charlotte. Y/n was his girl and not that fame-sucking ex of his.

Mason had spent so long taking her love for granted, thinking it would always be there, thinking he could come back when it suited him.

But now? Now he realized the truth: She had been the love of his life.

And he had lost her.

Forever.

He spent days in his apartment, alone with his thoughts, battling the crushing weight of regret.

He would never see her smile again, never hear her voice telling him that everything would be okay.

He had let the one person who truly loved him slip away because he couldn’t appreciate her until it was too late.

And in the silence of his empty apartment, with nothing but his thoughts and his guilt to keep him company,

Mason finally understood what he had lost.

Y/n.

The girl he had taken for granted. The one who had loved him without hesitation.

The one he would never get back.

The end

[notapradagurl7]

My Favorite Star.

Black Fem! Reader x Joey Bada$$ as Unique/KadeemPornstar!

Summary: On a regular Friday after work before waiting for one of his latest videos, your neighbor Kadeem brought you a package until you found out that your fine ass neighbor was your favorite porn star, Unique. You decided to spend time with him.

A/N: it’s been a minute since I wrote about Joey, enjoy! don't forget to leave comments, likes and reblogs are welcome to support, drop a request if you like, they're always open!

WC: 4433k.

Warnings: dirty talk, smoking weed, praise, orgasm denial, fingering, use of AAVE, cussing, use of the n-word, rough sex, choking kink, protected sex, consensual for both parties, exhibitionist kink, AU where Unique is in the modern day world, PWP, pet names.

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @satoruya @planetblaque

@playgurlxoxo @naj-ay444

@becauseimswagman1 @beenathembo @brattyfics

@hxneyclouds @henneseyhoe @yassbishimvintage

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaesworld @ovohanna24

@novahreign @writingsbytee @avoidthings @kimuzostar @slippinninque @keyera-jackson @theblacklewinsky

@euphorichappiness10 @life-in-the-slut-house @caashmoneynae @siqueth @miguelspvssy @liatreads @kaylaahisthebestest-

@uniqueoutlierblog

@dxddykenn

@secretlifeoofmarpessa @dpennedit

@westside-rot @mymindisneverhere

@mind-somewhere-else

@kindofaintrovert

@lady-olive-oil @23jammy @musicisme333 @saturnville @enchantedillumination @mogul93 @theereina @uzumaki-rebellion @blyffe @hotmessexpress94 @fakxmbj @kumkaniudaku @ranikyani @mama-2001

______

It was a typical Friday night, the kind where the world outside felt like a distant echo while you nestled into your cozy apartment with a bag of snacks and a comfy pink blanket in your bedroom. The smell of something sweet and lavender wafted in the room.

The flickering light from your TV danced across the four on your brown skin as you scrolled through your favorite adult site, your heart racing with anticipation for the latest video featuring Unique.

Your freshly two-strand twisted locs hung in front of your face, your fingers carefully pulled out the black rubber bands.

The black screen with red trims displayed a white loading icon that was frustrating, while the message read, "New video arriving soon—don’t miss out on UniqueDaDon!”

With a deep sigh, your face contorted in frustration as you rolled your eyes, the weight of impatience settling heavily in you. Your thumb angrily swiped up the screen, dismissing the page with a flick that felt almost like a release.

You shut your phone off and tossed it onto the pillow, the device landing with a soft thud, mirroring your exasperation.

Where was Unique? Your favorite porn star, Friday, Wednesday and Monday nights before 11pm were his usual scheduling time on the adult site. He was never late either, this was new.

A sudden yet alarming knock on your door jolted you back to reality. You glanced at the time—11 PM. Who the hell could it be?

Your heart raced for a different reason now, but as the doorbell chimed, your phone's camera revealed Kadeem's familiar face. You sighed in relief, putting down the gun that had been your recent purchase.

“Y/N, you've got a package! It’s a crockpot, right?” His voice was teasing, laced with that signature charm that made your heart flutter.

Damn it. They accidentally sent your purple crockpot to him. That was the last time you ordered anything online without double-checking the delivery address.

“Uh, yeah! Just, uh, some... new cooking material for my collection!” You called back, trying to play it cool, but the heat creeping up your cheeks gave you away.

You opened the door, your heart racing as you took in his appearance. He wore a black tee, paired with sweatpants. and those dark brown eyes of his sparkled under the orange hallway lights.

Kadeem chuckled, his laughter deep and rich, echoing through the thin walls between your apartments. “Cookin’ material, huh? What’chu cooking tonight?” he teased, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed casually.

“Maybe some beef stew this time, hopefully it turns out good, not too soft, if not, i'll just order take out,” You replied with a nod.

“I always smell something good from your apartment, I know you're good at what you do,” He said, smiling a bit.

He resided directly opposite you in the upscale, five-story apartment complex located in the suburbs, where both of you occupied units on the first floor. This location suited you due to your job at the nearby library, which provided a tranquil environment.

Kadeem resided in apartment 102 while you were in apartment 101; the building was quiet and uneventful, mostly occupied by residents or college students who minded their own business.

You tried to play it cool, but the heat creeping up your cheeks betrayed you. “Uh, thanks for bringing it over,” you said, trying to sound casual.

He leaned against the doorframe, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “You know I got you, Y/N. Just doin’ my neighborly duties,” he replied, stepping a little closer. He leaned casually against the doorframe, the air thick with unspoken tension.

“So, what you into these days? Besides, ya know, cookin’?” His gaze dropped to your box, and you felt your heart skip a beat, knowing he couldn't see the website you had been on.

You smirk, trying to deflect. “Oh, you know, just the usual. Binge-watching, and the occasional art pieces of mine.” You shot back, trying to keep it light-hearted, but the heat of the moment was palpable.

You wanted to be done with this conversation quickly before you missed a notification, pursuing your lips. Especially testing out your new crockpot.

“Well, thanks again Kadeem, I'll be sure to let know you if I need to smoke weed,” You quickly said, eyeing him up and down.

“Anytime, Y/N,” Kadeem replied back, as he walked away from the door and toward his apartment door.

“Bye Kadeem,” You sang playfully with a smile, waving back to him before closing the door.

He sold marijuana to nearby residents while working as a full-time adult film actor to cover his expenses, on a reputable black-owned porn site that strictly filtered out unsavory characters, minimized ads.

He exclusively showcased black women or curvy black women in his content. In their mid-twenties and some older, in their early thirties. From this very neighborhood.

His work wasn't much vanilla, nor too many hardcore videos, if there was a fantasy from the woman then Unique would fulfill it. He was always at the top row of the home page, verified with five stars.

After work, you would smoke weed with him since he was your plug, chatting about your day, and you always made a point to pay him. However, Kadeem consistently reminded you that it was free of charge.

Your heart raced as you clicked on the notification, the familiar thrill coursing through you.

“Oh shit, I can’t be late,” you whispered quickly, grabbing your phone with ease.

You ran inside of your bedroom and grabbed your laptop, putting it on the charger, you flipped the light switch and the darkness filled the room.

You snuggled into the blankets of your bed to get comfy, grabbing your earbuds and plugged it in your phone below, the timer on the adult site went to 10 seconds, as the logo of the website flickered on the black ink screen.

“Five…four…three…” You mumbled under your breath, your eyes glued to the screen.

“Now Unique wants to post on time, huh?” You sang lowly but smirked a bit, biting down on your lip.

The intro music softly faded in and out, and suddenly there he was Unique displaying that signature smirk that made your stomach flip. You felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks. Good thing this video wasn't recent either.

The video began with Kadeem showed off that signature smirking, lying down at the front of his bed with his hands behind his head, a smirk on his face and while the black woman with the same dark brown complexion as him, crawled toward him with the dim light of the room that felt as intimate as your own.

Your mouth went agape once the video faded out, and you quickly came to a sudden realization, the same man who was your plug, lived across from you was your favorite porn star? How the hell did you not see that?

His hands adorned gripped her throat, momentarily constricting her airflow, eliciting a soft harsh gasp from the woman, passing the condom to him, her hands rested on the headboard as he lifted her and settled down onto his dick. She began riding him with a steady pace.

“Faster, you pretty slut,”

His eyes flickered back to the camera with a playfully glint as if he was looking at you through the screen, letting low groan from the warmth of her walls gripping his dick tightly, “Talk to me, baby. Tell me how good you’re feeling,”

Every moan, grunt, thrust spurred you on, the ache in your stomach made you squirm underneath the blankets, and your tiny whimper left your lips.

“Lord, help me,” you whispered, sinking deeper into the pillow as you tried to ignore the ache building inside you.

You knew you shouldn’t be watching this, especially when you had just seen him a few moments ago, but here you were, it felt all too real. Your breath hitched and panted heavily.

And then he did that one thing you liked, talking to the wrong through her climax.

“There you go, let me have it,”

Once the video was over and swiped up to exit, you quickly ran toward the bathroom and accidentally knocked over your small dresser, the thud noise echoed through the walls. You screamed out loudly.

“Shit, all this fucking time, it was him,” You mumbled to yourself, wondering how you did not see it.

You were still bewildered by the fact that it was really him, and you imagined how it would feel to be in her place, to have those hands on you, to feel that body against yours. That friction with him.

Just then, the doorbell rang again, pulling you from your reverie. You cursed out loud, but curiosity got the better of you. You cleaned up mess, and threw the glass in the trash. “Who the fuck could it be now?”

You quickly paused the video and tossed your phone aside, throwing on a hoodie to cover up as you made your way to the door, your heart racing once again.

“Y/N, you good in there? I heard you scream and a loud thud. You alright?” Kadeem’s voice echoed through the door, concern lacing his tone.

“Yeah, just uh...tripped over something! I’m good!” you called back, trying to sound nonchalant, but the slight tremor in your voice betrayed your nerves.

“Alright, just checking on you,” he replied, and you could hear the concern in his voice. “You know I’m just across the hall if you need anything. Like...you know, a good smoke or a good meal.”

You chuckled awkwardly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks again, but it wasn’t just from embarrassment anymore. It was that undeniable attraction you felt toward him, mixed with the knowledge of what he did for a living, that sent your heart racing.

You stood at the door, then opened it revealing Kadeem there. Still dressed in the same attire, while you exhaled a blissful sigh. “Actually, I don't feel like cooking tonight, I could use a good meal,”

“Dinner is on me, I got you. What do you want to eat?” Kadeem asked in a warm tone, his eyes on you, you felt the heat rush in your cheeks again.

“I'll just take some wings and fries, my drink can be a fruit punch, ranch on the side too by the way,” You added, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Done,” he said, pulling out his phone, scrolling through the DoorDash app, typing in the food, the drinks and the sauce.

“While we wait, can I ask you something Kadeem?” you said softly, your tone a bit nervous yet steady. You walked over to the light purple couch with him, you took a seat on the left side.

He looked up from his plate, his eyes flickered back to you, while he gently plopped onto the couch beside you, “Of course you can, what’s on your mind?”

You hesitated briefly, but the moment felt right. “So, um… this might sound a bit weird, but I’ve been watching a lot of your content online. Like, you know, Unique? Your videos? I’m a fan.”

“You’re a fan of my videos?” he asked in a soft tone like he was surprised a bit. His body shifted toward you and his knees brushed against yours.

“Yeah, you’re good at what you do,”

Kadeem smiled at what you said to him, “I appreciate that, but you know, I could tell you were a fan. Your comments always stood out, they were always so funny, and clever,”

Your heart raced as you processed his words, feeling exposed yet thrilled. “So you’ve been watching me watch you?” you teased, your voice playful despite the heat washing over you.

“Can you blame me? You’re kinda hard to miss. Cute as hell, smart, sexy, funny, beautiful, always with that smile,” he replied, leaning back against the couch, as he flashed that charming grin. “And trust me, I’ve got fantasies of my own about you.”

You swallowed hard, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. “Are you serious?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, but the way he looked at you made it hard to concentrate.

“Let’s just say, I’ve imagined what it’d be like to have you in many positions,” he said, his voice low and smooth, sending shivers down your spine.

Kadeem had a crush on you, and those feelings surpassed into something deeper, but your imagination did run wild.

“I've had a few of the same.” You could hardly believe the words spilling from his mouth, it made your heart race.

“But honestly, I’d rather just have you all to myself, no cameras,” he admitted, his tone shifting to something more intimate.

You tried to speak but the words caught in your throat. You weren’t sure how to respond.

“Tell me what you want, Y/N. Don’t hold back,” he replied, his voice a tempting whisper.

“No cameras. Just us, I want it to be real, you know?” you confirmed, your voice steady with sudden confidence.

Kadeem’s expression softened, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “I like the sound of that.”

You took a deep breath, the weight of his question hanging in the air. “So you want me to fuck you Y/N?” he asked you with a smile on his face.

You nodded nervously yet spoke up, “Yes, I do. But fuck me like you hate me yet you can't resist me, spank my ass, gently choke me, praise but without the word good girl, and edging, give me some direction, like that rough edge in your videos,”

“I can definitely do that. But I’ll make sure it’s all about your pleasure too. I want to know what makes you feel good but just say no when you want to stop” he mused, nodding at you.

Before you could respond, the doorbell rang again, breaking the moment. You shot him an apologetic smile and jumped up, He rushed to the door.

As Kadeem opened it, the delivery driver stood there with the food, the aroma of garlic parmesan wings and fries wafting in, making your stomach growl. You couldn't wait to eat.

“Perfect timing!” you exclaimed, he grabbed the bags from the driver and tipping him generously before closing the door. He hurried back to the couch, where you were already eyeing the spread eagerly.

He placed the bags on the brown polished coffee table, hissed from the heat touching your skin.

“So you like garlic parmesan?” he asked, opening the containers to reveal the steaming wings and crispy fries, each accompanied by little cups of ranch.

“I like what I like, so how have you been?” you replied, your heart still racing from the earlier conversation as you settled back next to him, the food between you both.

“I’ve been good, this is the kind of night I can get behind—good food, good company,” he replied with a smile, picking up a wing and taking a bite, savoring the flavor.

You laughed softly, feeling the playful energy between you both. “And you enjoy my company?” you suggested, dipping a fry in ranch and offering it to him.

“Absolutely,” he replied, leaning in to take the fry from your fingers, his lips brushing against your fingers. The simple action sent a thrill through you, igniting the chemistry that simmered beneath the surface.

After your food was finished, thrown in the trash and both of you washed your washes your hands, you grabbed his hands and led him to your bedroom, nudging the door open to the room that was neat. The walls were painted a soft lilac, a comforting hue.

Thankfully you did some spring cleaning this morning, so the vibrant floral sheets and candles gave the room a cozy feel. The smell of fresh linen and lavender filled the air.

The bed was in the middle of your bedroom, with the dresser in the corner and a small bookshelf beside it overflowing with novels and trinkets collected over the years. The vibe Kadeem got from it was one of warmth and personality.

“Nice place you got here,” he remarked, taking in the surroundings with appreciation. He stood in the middle of the room with his

“Thank you, I try to keep it comfortable and inviting," you replied with a grateful smile. Was this man trying to steal your secrets on interior decorating, or was he just being polite?

You grabbed a condom from the dresser and passed it to him. “Will it fit you?” you asked him, a teasing glint in your eye, though your voice carried a hint of genuine curiosity as well.

"Trust me, it’ll fit," he said with a wink, taking off his shirt while unwrapping the condom and tossing it onto the bed. "Now, you ready for this?"

Your eyes almost sparkled with lust as you nodded, you felt the lust building up inside. His dark brown skin was beautiful, and his chest was toned, each muscle defined under the soft glow of the candles.

“More than ready,” you breathed, your heart racing in rhythm with the pounding of your pulse. You tugged at the edge of your shirt, pulling it over your head to reveal your breasts.

After taking off your shorts and panties, you wiped your sweaty hands on the towel you had used before tossing it into the hamper. You were so damn nervous but took a few breaths to keep your cool.

You bent over onto the bed and wiggled your ass at Kadeem, he responds by giving it a rough smack, you stifled a moan while he towers over you.

With that, you pushed him gently back onto the bed, the soft mattress cradling you as he hovered over you. His chain dangling in your face and kissed your lips again, pulling down his sweatpants and boxers, his dick was thick and hung near his thigh. That was a monster.

“Damn,” you mumbled to yourself, your jaw hung low. You were damn speechless for the first time but you swallowed quickly.

“Like what’chu see beautiful?” Kadeem asked with a grin, flipping the light switch, the darkness filled the room but he turned on the other light switch to dim.

It wasn’t too dark in the room but just enough light to see both of you, he kneeled onto the bed and hovered over you again.

You almost covered your face until he grabbed them, your cheeks heating again like a blushing bride getting ready for her wedding day, “Don't hide that pretty face from me,” he added.

He stepped closer, his hands framing your face as he leaned in to capture your lips in a heated kiss. You melted into him, the soft pressure of his mouth against yours made you moan.

Your legs spread open for him, his eyes on your pussy then flickered back to you, his fingers gently fingered your pussy, you gasped softly, “Shit, no teasing, Kadeem please…” you whimpered biting your lip, he definitely wanted to do that first.

He chuckled darkly at your quick reply, his mouth wrapped around your nipple and kept pumping his fingers in and out of you at a tortuous, fast pace. He loved every moment of his, the faces you made and the way your moans echoed through the walls, alerting the residents Kadeem fucking you good.

Your essence spread all over the bedsheets, driving you wild in pleasure. “Fuck..m-more,” you babbled softly, moving your hips to his fingers. Kadeem smirked at you while picking up the pace. You were a wet whimpering mess, legs shaking as he watched you break apart underneath him.

“Fuck Kadeem, just like that!” You reached for him desperately, when his fingers curled up inside you with reckless abandon, your back arched and your hands clutched his shoulders.

His hand grasped and kissed your breasts, releasing your wrists while your hands rested on his neck. His mouth sucked your nipple and his fingers kept that pace, “You better not cum till I say so,” he said with his voice raised an octave.

“Ohh…fuck! Fuck! Kadeem!” You moaned again, catching the faint squeaks from your bed as you scoot away, “No runnin’ from me, that’s the rule,” he replied as he grabbed your wrists again. All you could was scream loudly in pleasure from his other finger pinching your clit again.

“I-i need y-your d-dick, Kadeem,” You lamented in between sentences, feeling that familiar knot tightening in your stomach, his lips slotting against yours, your mouth parted for a scream of pleasure. That had his dick harden from you.

His tongue explored your mouth and twirled with yours. swapping spit in the deep kiss and leaving a spit chain as he pulled away from you. you were so tired of the damn teasing, your hands squirming in his clutch.

“Look at you, all lost in it,” Kadeem spoke up, feeling the pleasure from you, the heat raised, his thumb swiveling onto your clit and essence pooling around his finger.

“That feels too good!”

You were betrayed by your pussy, every thrust of his finger made your body scoot across the bed and you shifted and turned, and your skin began to heat up. You essence gushed onto his fingers, he stopped immediately and withdrew his fingers from your pussy. You couldn't help what body knew what to do, he released your wrists and spanked your ass roughly.

“What did I say? You don't listen…” Kadeem barked at you, his nose rubbed against yours.

Your chest rose and fell as you took a moment to compose yourself after nodding at him. You clenched the bedsheets while he enveloped your body, directing his thick dick towards your wet entrance.

His half-lidded eyes watches how your mouth parted for a slut like moan when he shoved himself inside you, pleading the man to fuck you harder. Bullying his dick deep inside to fit every inch, fulfills that craving of friction. “Already so fucking wet-damn..” he muttered.

"Kadeem, you're soo big,” You trailed off after a plethora of moans, he knew that you were speechless and only answered with a wild moan or two. Kneading your other breast while giving long, deep strokes that go dizzy and dumb, He likes this side of you, the way your body responds to him. He was definitely gonna make you his.

"You’re mine,” He whispered in your ear, digging deeper into you again as he watched himself go in and out effortlessly, your wetness coating his dick like a blanket. He wanted to get every drop, he moaned at the sight.

He brought his body closer to yours, your arms wrapped around his neck and his thrusts went sporadic, the gold chain touched your collarbone and you shook from the cold metal, “M-mine, you're all mine,” you trailed off

Nails scratching relentlessly onto his back with every ruthless thrust, Kadeem kept grunting and raspily moaning from that, he was spurred on from the way you bounced under him to your moans, this was better than his video, you were finally filled up to the brim by him. “Keep scratching me up pretty girl, I'll fuck you harder,” he groaned lowly.

The sounds of skin slapping against skin and your breathless moans, echoing off the walls as you saw the colors of the room blurring from your tear-filled eyes. As if the room was spinning, the bed creaked from the movement from when he picked up the pace again, thrusting deeper and harder, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “That’s my girl, you’re doing so good, baby,”

“That’s it, let it build. You can do it,” he encouraged, his voice a low growl that resonated within you.You felt your swollen pussy clench around his dick tighter. “Let me cum, Kadeem,”

“You can cum now,”

With that, you came undone immediately. Your essence left a big mess on his dick and bedding, He followed suit by filling you up and you screamed loudly, the soft glow of the lights casting light onto your bodies. Kadeem collapsed beside you.

“You good?” he asked in concern with his eyes flickering toward you, you nodded weakly. “I'll run you a hot bath,”

“Damn girl, you’re something else,” Kadeem panted lowly, looking at you while kissing your lips.

“I can definitely say that same thing about you, baby,” You chuckled lightly.

He picked you up and carried you into the bathroom, running a hot bath for you while he gently settled you into the foamy bath, sighing in bliss at the touch of the warm water on your skin. He pulled up his sweatpants, then crouched near the tub. He looked like he had something on his mind.

“Can I take you out for a date?”

You smiled at the man and nodded in agreement, bringing your legs close to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. “I’d like that, you remember what’s my favorite place?” you asked him, heat in your cheeks.

“Yeah, that Italian restaurant around the corner. I can pick you up around 8? This weekend?” he asked you with a gentle tone, smiling at you.

“I’d like that,” You replied with a warm smile. Feeling that warm fuzzy feeling in your stomach. This was a great Friday night, now he was all yours.

—————-

[blushingbubbles]

last-orgasm storytime -- sorry it took me a bit to write but it is...long

Sooo last night (1/31) was the last orgasm i’ll have for likely all of 2025, and i’m still fuzzy from it.

Still. It’s *checks clock* 6pm as im writing this. Still fuzzy. It happened like 18 hours ago.

The last free orgasm I had was on January 10th, and I didn’t even like it. It was rushed and short and unearned.

On February 1st, I entered long-term denial, and I wanted to cum one last time before it started.

In fact, I wanted to cum so badly that in exchange, I added 180 days to my denial. But because I added those 180 days, I started to fear that the orgasm wasn’t going to be worth it.

The last free orgasm i had sucked. I panicked that this next one would suck too, that I’d traded 180 days of denial just to regret it.

and hahahaha

i would trade 1800 days of denial for what i got on 1/31.

wc: 2600 (lol) | *exempt from forbidden words rules, and if u try to punish me for this post that i worked very hard on i will block you*

⊹₊⟡⋆ leading up ⊹₊⟡⋆

Sir & I talked on the phone for two days prior to the 31st. The first night we just talked, which got me used to his voice in my ear. The second night we talked a bit and played a bit, which made me more comfortable with his instructions & flow in a scene, which was wonderful. I would’ve had a difficult time relaxing with him if it’d been our first time speaking. But it wasn’t. It was our third, so I felt really safe & comfortable going into our call. 

The morning of the 31st I told him about my dream that centered around worshipping his cock. I told him how needy it’d made me. Sent him a picture of how wet I was. He praised me for it...and then told me I wasn’t allowed to touch until he called that night. At all.

Rude. (i kid)

To make matters worse, he sent some incredible nudes with an instruction to look at them once an hour every hour. This left my imaginative mind with some wild running fantasies. Excerpts from our messages started with “god im like whining” /  “you look so soft” end devolved to “it’d be so fuckimg easy for you to breed me” / “wanna be so full of ur cock i struggle breathing Sir” 

Believe it or not, I actually had no problem with not touching – it was like a given. He told me to not touch so even though I was feverishly horny, touching was out of the question.

The thing I had a problem with was the anxiety. It kept trying to convince me that he was going to forget or get distracted or cancel (he touched base about once every other hour to humor my feral messages, which curbed that anxiety well).

When I was making dinner though, the fact i was going to cum for the last time in 2025 that night started to get to me.

The anticipation became too much to sweep under the rug and I decided to tell him. The convo looked like this:

hi | my heart's beating really really fast In a good way I hope! i think im just excited but it does feel like anxiety It's a lot of anticipation. i dont knowwwwni dont know | It's a lot of anticipation Don't worry bubbles, I'm going take good care of you. | I'm adaptable | We'll get you what you need | You needn't worry about it, I'll be there with you and for you

 (i totally cried happy tears)

⊹₊⟡⋆ the beginning ⊹₊⟡⋆

im all fuzzy again lol. Sir called. We chatted about our days and how I was feeling. He asked what I’d laid out (a vibrating egg, a dildo, a clit suction toy). I made a joke about having a hairbrush on my bed, but it was strictly for brushing my hair before he called. He laughed and agreed there was no need for the hairbrush because we’re not in high school anymore.

First, he asked me to spread my legs to the corners of the mattress. Because of my anxiety, he knew without me asking to go really really slowly, and I'm grateful for it. He took time warming me up and talking to me in the first minutes.

He told me to repeat lines back to him -- repeating lines makes me very pliable, and that night was no exception. I might've repeated I like to show off for Sir 20 times. Afterward, Sir wanted me to spread my pussy for him too, so I did.

But then he said, "little more," which made me think he had cameras in my room. I told him this and he reassured me that he didn't. Instead, he's just inside my head. <3

The night is very hazy. I wrote this with a lot of assistance from him, but this is one thing I remember clearly: everything Sir said was a specific instruction.

He didn’t say “I want you to tease yourself” and then wait for me to explain how I teased myself. He said “take your left hand and drag it up the inside of your left thigh. Slower. I’ll give you the rhythm.”

There’s a time and subject for the “I want you to tease yourself.”

I am not the subject. So it's never the time. I’m always afraid I’m doing something wrong, so I ask clarifying questions – “like ___? Or should I _____?”

But each of Sir's instructions were to-the-letter. Because of that, I never had to worry about doing something right or wrong. There was no ambiguity, there was just the instruction.

I'd already surrendered to his dominance, but that wasn't enough. He wanted to turn my brain off entirely.

At first, he didn’t incorporate the toys. It was nails on thighs and fingers spreading wetness around.

In his words, he was playing with his food.

Eventually, eventually, I was allowed to focus on my clit. Even longer after that, I was permitted to insert my fingers. By this point, with the lengths to which he was dragging it out, I started to whine (which was exactly where he wanted me).

After that, the vibrating egg came into play.

⊹₊⟡⋆ the middle ⊹₊⟡⋆

I’d told him the day prior what countdowns do to me and why, and he incorporated them at every milestone of the night.

With the toy still off, Sir told me to run it up and down my slit. Then I had to hold it at my entrance, adding pressure without allowing it inside. He counted me down and allowed me to insert the toy, then counted me down again to turn it on.

I don’t know how it happened. I sincerely – I don’t know. After a while he gave me a break, and I checked my phone to make sure its battery was still alright and found that an hour and a half had passed. He thought my surprise was cute.

In his words: “I'm glad you're having such a good time, but this night is FAR from over."

Sir told me to get my clit suction toy out and lay it on the bed in front of me, as if to tease me. Keeping the toy turned off, he told me to press it where I usually liked it the most. Then he told me to lift it off. Then place it back on.

Once I had a grasp on exactly how to move, he told me once the toy was turned on, he would give me a number, and I'd have to hold the toy on my clit for that many seconds--but he had me do the counting.

We started on low -- the toy has like 8 settings, so the first setting is usually never enough for me to even really feel? But after all the teasing and build up, I thought for a while I might've been able to hit an edge with it.

He made me hold it on for 3 seconds. 7. 15. Between every number, the toy hovered over my clit so I could hear it and feel a whisper of it, but it wasn't enough to give me any sensation or pleasure.

According to him: I demonstrated incredible self control. Despite how good the toy felt, I always put it down when he told me to, and only when he told me to.

He had me turn it up 2 notches, and I'm pretty sure this is where the last of my comprehensive thought left me.

I literally -- it's so hazy after this, I have no idea. I know he toyed with me just like that -- making me count up to 5, 12, then 7, then 3. He continually reminded me that I wasn't allowed to cum. He also reassured me I absolutely wouldn't be punished for pulling the toy off before reaching the requested number.

The most important rule was to wait for him to give me the orgasm--everything else came second.

There was a stretch of time that I was hitting an edge by 1 -- like the moment the vibrator got too close I was chanting I can't, I can't, I can't.

It felt like an eternity of me going absolutely stupid while teetering on the edge of orgasm.

He gave me a water break after the "I can't," chanting, and this was approximately our conversation:

"You can't?" no Sir, I can't "Why can't you?" bc i don't have permission "And you need permission, don't you?" yes Sir i do i need it "You need it because you don't have a choice, isn't that right?" yes Sir that's right, I don't have a choice "Say that again." i don't have a choice, Sir

That last line was repeated 10+ times

It was incredible. He had me edge myself for him. over. and over. and over.

and over.

and over again.

In his words: It was about 38 edges in just as many minutes.

I remember going nonverbal. I remember him telling me to be clear with the numbers, and I recall that being the hardest part -- because my lips and tongue no longer wanted to work. 

Babygirl, you're mumbling again! I need you to speak very clearly into your mic.Yes Sir, i understand

I started to get fuzzy. If you remember the old-school televisions -- whenever you would turn them off, that collection of static hovered across the screen. You could collect the static in your hands?

I felt like I'd swallowed it. That static blanketed my mind. My tongue was numb. My mind was buzzing. I was incoherent. I've never felt anything like it.

⊹₊⟡⋆ the end ⊹₊⟡⋆

From beginning of the call to the orgasm was over 2 hours. 2 hours he teased me. Denied me. Played with me until I was on the edge and made me wait there. I felt what was left of my brain disintegrate. turn to mush. slip out between my thighs.

(thank you Sir for helping me to recall this part)

Babygirl, you've been perfectly obedient for me tonight. (a long drawn-out whine) I'm very proud of you, of your self control. Are you sufficiently fucked out? Is your head all fuzzy now sweet girl? Can you even understand what i'm saying or are you too much of a brainless whore? (generally affirmative and giggly slut noises) I think you've earned your orgasm. *voice cracking* really? You have my permission to cum. We are going to change the rules of play now. Do you understand?  Yes Sir, I understand, thank you.

There was more in there, but I can't remember when -- he asked me if I still wanted it, and i didn't know the answer anymore. I wanted to say yes -- i wanted it so badly, but I was so fuzzy all i could think was only if you want me to.

Like I was no longer in a space that needed the orgasm - i only needed to make him happy.

it was the same game. hold the vibrator on the clit for the number of seconds he wanted. But the rules had changed. This time he would do the counting ( i loved the counting )

and this time, I was allowed to cum.

however -- the count didn't end when I orgasmed. the count ended when the count ended, and I had to keep the vibrator on until then.

he started with 3 seconds. Before this, I'd been hitting the edge in 3 seconds. But knowing I had permission to cum it felt different -- stronger of an edge almost?

The count ended.

Sir stressed again that I was allowed to cum. Then he counted down from 5 seconds? Or maybe it was 10?

The edge was right there, but the orgasm still felt so far away. The release was being stubborn. Maybe my body didn't feel like it was real?

He said again

Babygirl, you're allowed to cum. Sincerely.

Then he counted down from 20, dragging each number out to his liking.

Maybe I was scared of cumming too soon and overstimulating myself? I'm not sure. But my orgasm held and held and held. It did not want to release.

It sat like a boulder on a cliff, just one breath from falling off and giving me what he ordered. But it didn't budge, and there wasn't anything I could do. I was getting upset with myself by the time he hit 12.

When he hit 10, I discovered the issue.

It wasn't enough for him to give me permission to cum beforehand. I needed it while I was on the edge. The realization hit me so hard I would've fallen over had I been standing. With the time counting down, the pleading spilled from me. I don't even remember what came out of my mouth. He told me it was very very pretty though.

He had reached 6.

Please Sir i need your permission, I need you to give me permission again. I need it I need it.

Cum for me babygirl.

Relief was simultaneously like lightning and a flood through me, and it shoved the stubborn boulder right off the cliff.

There were 2 waves to the orgasm. The first wave was on the "5," the second was when he said "2."

After the second one I kind of blacked out a bit.

But I sincerely don't.....recall...all I know was it was (bar none) the most powerful and most perfect orgasm I've ever had <3

⊹₊⟡⋆ after/care ⊹₊⟡⋆

I cried. i had a feeling i would -- the anticipation + my anxiety + the orgasm was a huge release. my tears slipped into my headphones and they started to fizzle and crack out on me. He told me to stay in bed, but I wanted to find my other pair.

He was right to tell me to stay lying down -- I got dizzy when I stood up.  

He praised me for how good of a job I did which made me want to cry even more. I thanked him like a million times. He thanked me a million times, and he told me to drink my juice.

We talked about all 2 hours of the call. From the teasing to the egg to the counting to the vibrator to the permission to the begging. He filled in some hazy spots I'd already forgotten in my edged-out state.

I stressed that I wouldn't have changed a single thing about it. I had a lollipop, and i fell asleep talking to him on the phone. IT WAS PERFECT AND IM SO GLAD I TRADED 180 DAYS OF DENIAL FOR IT I'D DO IT AGAIN IN A HEARTBEAT.

[arlana-likes-to-write]

HIII! I have a request if you’d be up to write for it. What about a plus size female reader that’s super soft like a teacher or social worker or something dating yelena. reader can be kinda air headed but is very sweet and loving. and yelena is still hard, strict, and disciplined hard ass yelena. everyone doesn’t understand how they work but they balance each other. maybe reader had a hard day at work and yelena helps her to unwind by being there for her and loving on her. maybe takes her on. short weekend trip to see the barton family or something! i’m not sure if you do smut but smut is always good if you’re comfortable writing it!

A Heart of Gold

Note: I realized that this kind of got off topic of the original request. However, I do have a part 2 in mind if you guys are interested. I just think Yelena deserves a life outside of fighting and I want to give her that lol.

Warning: mention of past abuse, mention of the red room, cannon typical injuries, angst with a happy ending, implied sexual content, fluff

Word Count: 3.9k

“Sweetheart, do you-”

“On the side table. Next to the flowers.” Right. You walked over to the table and placed your keys in your back pocket. Your girlfriend brought home a bouquet, and you got distracted by them. That was why your keys weren’t in the right spot.

“Alright. Thank you. I’m late, so I’ll see you at dinner.” You rushed for the door.

“I think you are forgetting something, detka,” the sound of her footsteps from the couch as she walked over to you. The Russian pace was slow, giving you time to think. The laptop and case files were at your office. Your backpack was packed with your water bottle, breakfast, and other office supplies. Your phone was in your hand, and the keys were in your back pocket. What were you missing?

Your answer came when Yelena pushed your body against the wooden door and molded her lips against yours. Her sudden display of strength took you by surprise, but you moaned against her lips. After all these months together, her ability to manhandle you always left you weak at the knees. Although you were comfortable with your size, years and years of taunting by your peers left scars. She constantly reminded you she could handle your size with her strength.

When she pulled away from you, she had a smirk on her face, no doubt pleased with your blown-out look. “You are going to be late, dorogoy,” you huffed and straightened out your shirt, which was wrinkled with her body pressed against yours.

“Whose fault is that?” You asked. The blonde shrugged. “Text me what you want for dinner, and I’ll pick it up.” You opened the door to leave. With your back turned Yelena smacked your ass. At this point, you weren’t surprised.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

“You are late,” Amelia said. Her eyes never left her computer screen as she handed you a few files. You took them with a smile and sat down at your desk. You weren’t that late, only 5 minutes.

“I had an extra long breakfast,” you teased and began to set up your desk. A plushie hit you on the side of the head. It was a carbon copy of your girlfriend’s dog that spent her time in Russia with her parents. The team kept a mount of stuffed animals in their office. It helped kids find peace in a new and stressful environment. Well, this time, your coworker, Johnathan, used it as a weapon.

“Stop being gross!” You quickly threw it back at him, but you missed your target. Also, it wasn’t the first time implied sexual comments were made before the morning meeting. Most of them were from Johnathan.

“Children, let’s focus on the meeting.” Amelia sighed. Johnathan huffed, and you stuck your tongue out at him, but you brought in your childlike behavior. Your work was necessary.

As a social worker, it was your job to be a voice in particular demanding situations, such as domestic conflicts, divorce, or substance abuse. You witnessed a lot of darkness, but you also saw a lot of good. You helped new parents adopt kids, reunite families, and help kids find the strength to stand up to their abusers.

This job brought you into Yelena’s path. It wasn’t the most conventional way of meeting. She broke into your apartment to get information about a young girl you expected was being abused. It turned out Sasha was a Black Widow, sold to her ‘parents’ by the Red Room. You helped the blonde get Sasha away from them, and once the case was over, you expected never to see the Russian again. But she stayed and carved a spot in your life. It seemed impossible to let her go. You held on tight, and through a lot of trial and error, she became yours.

After the meeting to discuss the upcoming cases, your phone buzzed again. You knew it was a text from Yelena.

I know what I want for dinner.

You

Thankfully, your coworkers were focused on their tasks for the day. They missed how your body tensed up, and you slammed your phone face down on your thigh. Then another text came through. Slowly, you looked at your phone.

But could you pick up Chinese? I have been craving it.

You sent a simple thumbs up and locked your phone. She was going to be the death of you.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Yelena was pissed. On paper, it was a simple check-in. Melina found a Widow still under Dreykov’s control that slipped under their radar. She wanted to gauge her target from a distance, but now she was covered in cuts and bruises. Still, she exposed the Widow to the red dust she had kept on hand. It was all because her sister sent her a text inviting her to a party at the Avenger’s compound. She insisted that you come with her. Her older sister had met you once.

Natasha arrived at Yelena’s apartment without warning. You were in the kitchen, making a box of mac and cheese. Even though you were a distaste in the kitchen, you perfected the simple meal when you discovered it was her favorite. It was an awkward first meeting. Since then, Yelena had hesitated to introduce you to the rest of the Avengers.

She was not ashamed of you, but she liked the little bubble of peace you created. In the safety of the apartment, Yelena could just be Yelena—not a Black Widow, a gun to hire, or someone the Avengers wanted on their team. She was just Lena. She liked that.

When the door opened, she glanced up. You were struggling to juggle your work bag and the bag of Chinese you picked up. The smell made Yelena’s stomach growl. Usually, she would be up on her feet to help you. However, she needed to allow the serum to heal the sounds. The last thing she wanted was to get blood on your floor. Because of this, she was able to observe you. You were so clumsy. It was adorable. This slight characteristic made it easy for Yelena to fall for you because you were different.

You weren’t a trained spy or agent. You were normal - a superhero in your own right. But Yelena found safety in how her ridged edges molded with your soft ones.

Finally, your eyes landed on hers. You gasped and dropped your work bag on the floor. Thankfully, you had the foresight to place the food on the counter before you rushed over. “What happened?” You sat next to her while grabbing the opened first aid kit. Yelena waved you off.

“A simple misunderstanding,” Yelena shrunk under your tense gaze. Sometimes, the blonde forgot how serious you could be when injuries were involved. You gave no warning when you pressed an alcohol pad to the worst wound on her stomach. Yelena let out a low hiss, and she watched your eyes soften.

“Sorry,” you mumbled and kissed your cheek. “I don’t like coming home to see my girlfriend bleeding out.” Well, that was a little dramatic, but Yelena couldn’t stop the way her heart fluttered. She was your girlfriend. She had someone to come home to. Your heart was too big for this cruel world. Still, Yelena was a little shit.

“Now, that would not be a cool way to die,” she managed to make you smile. “The serum will take care of it, plus the help from my sexy nurse,” she pinched your thigh. You rolled your eyes and cleaned up the used medical supplies. Yelena hated that you got up to grab the food, but she loved the view. You swayed your hips on purpose. Yelena groaned and closed her eyes. She opened them when you came back with the food. “How was work?”

“Amelia gave me shit for being late.” Yelena shrugged. She wasn’t going to apologize for loving on you a little extra. “We are making headway on the Samantha case.” The blonde almost broke the chopsticks she was using. The case was heartbreaking. It was a clear case of child abuse by the girl’s biological father and stepmother. You were working on behalf of the girl’s mother to get her rights back and custody of the girl. However, her father was wealthy and had the money to run a smear campaign. First, he painted the mom as a drug addict. Then, he went after her sexuality. It was pissing Yelena off. You had to stop her multiple times for going all Black Widow on the guy.

“Her mother has a new girlfriend. I met her today,” you took a break to wipe your mouth and sip water. “She’s a cop.” Yelena’s eyebrows went to her hairline. “A beat cop for the NYPD, but it will help the mother’s credibility in court,” you waved your hand. “Tell me what happened.” You placed your food on the coffee table and turned to look at Yelena. Your arm was bent on the back of the couch. Yelena knew you weren’t going to let this go. You were stubborn, which is why you were good at your job. For 6 months, Yelena was learning to break down her walls.

Sighing, she placed her food next to yours. “I was distracted,” you smiled at her. “Natalia called me before I went to check on a Widow. The Widow got the jump on me.” Still, your smile remained, but you began to run your fingers through her hair. The sensation helped Yelena relax further on the couch.

“What did your sister want?” Yelena wouldn’t have answered. Her eyes were fluttering close. Then your hand stuffed, and the blonde huffed.

“She invited us to a party at the compound,” Once she answered, you continued your movement. “I told her I would think about it.” You hummed.

“Do you want to go?” Yelena shrugged. It wasn’t a difficult question, but she wasn’t sure of the answer. “Oh!” You jumped up from the couch suddenly. “I forgot I got you something,” Yelena watched you run over to your bag, slipping on the wood floor. The blonde chuckled. Although she believed you forgot about the surprise, you always knew when Yelena was done talking about something. Especially when it involved her family. You returned with something behind your bag.

“Detka, you did not have to get me something,” you shrugged. Your love language was gift-giving—something Yelena was still getting used to.

“Close your eyes and hold your hands,” Yelena huffed but did what she was told. You placed the foreign object in her hand. It was light, soft, and made from the same material as your half-finished blanket. “Open.” In her hands was a tiny crocheted ninja. A hook was on it so she could put it in a bag. Yelena raised her eyebrows at you. “Because you are my little ninja.” You were very proud of that. Yelena chuckled and placed her gift next to her. You weren’t expecting Yelena to pull you down onto her lap. You yelped and moved your hands to keep your weight off of her. “You are hurt.”

“They are already healed. Now,” Yelena grabbed your hips. “Sit down.” She forced you down until you sat flushed on top of her. Your weight was comforting against her as she sat up to kiss your cheek and then down the column on your neck. “Koroleva (a queen),” she mumbled against your skin. She loved the shiver that went down your spine. “Made to sit on a throne.”

Your hands tangled in her hair and forced her lips against yours. Yelena was never religious. How could she be with everything endured? How was there a God if the Red Room existed? When you kissed her, held onto her so tightly that you were afraid you’d lose her, Yelena swore she saw God. You were her religion, and she would worship you every chance. You lifted yourself, pushed closer to Yelena, and deepened the kiss. And Gods, Yelena loved a woman who knew what she wanted.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Your arm around Yelena’s waist and held her tightly against your chest. The steady beating of your heart helped Yelena’s spiraling mind. “I think I want to go,” she knew you were up.

“Okay,” you mumbled sleepily and kissed the back of her head. “Whatever you want, baby.”

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You were nervous. You were trying to hide it from Yelena because she seemed on edge the entire drive upstate. On the one hand, you could count the number of times you met the Avengers - those visits were mostly of Kate. The archer was the closest thing Yelena had to a friend outside the network of Widows. You liked her, though you liked Lucky more.

So you spent the drive filling the silence with your obnoxious signing. You even got Yelena to sing along, too. Her hand never left your thigh. It was like she needed a physical reminder that you were still there. “You know,” you broke the silence. “My mom would have loved you.” You felt your hand tense up, but you played with the rings on her finger. It helped her relax slightly.

It was rare that you spoke about your mother. She passed away when you were going through your master’s program. It was a sudden heart attack. Your father and younger brother rushed her to the hospital, but the doctors couldn’t do anything. It still haunted you that you weren’t there to say goodbye. “Yeah?” Yelena questioned. “Do you think so?” You nodded.

“Yeah. All she wanted was for me to be happy, and you do that,” a small smile appeared. She brought your hand to her lips and kissed the back of it. Yelena had yet to meet your family because they lived in Arizona.

“You make me happy too.” Her hand went back to your thigh. You knew it was huge for her to be vulnerable, so you kept quiet about it.

“Oh! Do you think there will be mac and cheese?” Yelena chuckled.

“I told Natalia I would not attend without mac and cheese.”

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

“Sestra,” Natasha was outside to greet you and Yelena. “I thought you were ignoring us.” You heard Yelena huff and placed your hand on her lower back. Her body relaxed slightly.

“It is hard to ignore your big head.” The redhead rolled her eyes but pulled the blonde into a quick hug. At first, you worried about how her body tensed up at the sudden contact. Soon, she relaxed, which made you smile. The relationship between the two Black Widows was rocky.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Natasha turned her attention to you. “I much more appropriate clothing.” You shrugged but felt your body heat up. You were standing in Yelena’s kitchen in only a shirt.

“Not my best moment, but you should have knocked,” Natasha laughed.

“Yes, I should have. Come on,” the redhead threw her arm around her sister. “The party is just getting started.

Luckily, you spotted Kate right away, and she dragged you away from the Black Widow duo and into the bar. You weren’t the biggest drinker, but you knew you would need a drink to get through the night. Kate told you it was a celebration. The Avengers made a massive bust on a HYDRA facility trying to recreate the super soldier serum.

Yelena introduced you to the team once your drink was in your hand. You met Wanda, Vision, Tony, Sam, and Steve. Your girlfriend told you that Maria, Rhodey, and Bucky would be joining after they were cleared from medical. They were all super friendly, asked about your profession, and seemed to care about Yelena. So you were confused about why Yelena so desperately wanted to put up a wall between you and them. You knew she had her reasons for everything she did, but you could not figure this one out.

Somehow, America pressured you into a game of darts with Kate, Wanda, and Vision. Although the android mostly watched the game. You asked Yelena if she wanted to join, but she waved you off. She was in a group with her sister, Maria, and Tony. So you kissed her and followed the others to the game. You felt her eyes on your back.

When it wasn’t your turn, your gaze went to Yelena. It seemed impossible not to search for her. She was always on your mind, and you were drawn to her. For the past 6 months, you thought you knew her well. You knew when to push her to talk and back up when the conversation got heavy. You could make her laugh and smile, but tonight was different. Tonight was a version of Yelena you had not seen in a long time. Guarded.

She was wearing a mask. Come to think of it, you weren’t sure if you’d seen her smile the entire time you were at the compound. “You’re up,” Kate said. You almost missed the handoff of the darts because you were watching the blonde. “Come on. She’s fine. Stop looking at her with your big old heart eyes.” You scuffed and took the darts.

You missed your first throw. But Kate was wrong.

You missed your second. Something was wrong with Yelena.

You hit the bullseye on your third and final throw. “No shit!” America cheered. “See, I told you she would be good at this.” The celebration was short-lived when you looked at Yelena. The blonde slammed her drink down and stormed off. You hated that you were right.

“Excuse me,” you said to the group and went to follow your girlfriend—until Natasha blocked your path. “Move, " you told the older Black Widow.

“I would just give her time to cool off.” You blinked at the Avenger. There was no need to mask the confusion on your face. It was like she spoke a different language.

“What happened?” You questioned instead.

“I didn’t say anything.” You shook your head.

“Maybe that’s the problem, Natasha.” You pushed past her and followed the blonde outside. You saw her silhouette walking towards the dock that rested on a pound. You had half a mind to run after her, but you couldn’t risk falling, so you slowed your pace and allowed Yelena time to get her thoughts together.

Once you reached the dock, her body tensed up as she leaned against the wooden rails. Carefully, you walked over to her and stood behind her. It took a moment for her body to relax into you. You weren’t going to force her to talk about it. Sometimes, she needed a reminder that you were on her side. You rested your chin on her shoulder.

“Why are you dating me?” Come again? The question stumped you.

“What did you just ask me?” Yelena huffed and walked away from you. You allowed her to leave. “Yelena, what did they say to you?” She put her hands on her hips and paced. She mumbled something that you missed. “Tell me.”

“Stark doesn’t understand how someone like you is with someone like me,” you opened and closed your mouth, almost like a fish. “And he is right.”

“No,” you said firmly. “Stark is an idiot.” Yelena chuckled lightly, but she frowned.

“But everyone said it tonight,” her voice sounded so small. Gods, you wanted to punch all of those stupid Avengers. “So it must be true.”

It was taking you back to your high school days. So many people told you you were unlovable because of your size, that no one would want to handle all of your ‘assets, ' and that you weren’t beautiful because you didn’t look like other girls; however, this wasn’t about you. Slowly, you closed the distance.

“I am going to touch you, okay?” You wanted to give her an out. But she gave you a small nod; you almost missed it. You put your hands on her forearms, moving them up and down. It always amazed you how different your body types were. Finally, you moved your hands to either side of her neck.

“Listen to me, please,” you pleaded. “You make me so incredibly happy. You make me feel beautiful and seen. I am with you because I do not want to be with anyone else.” Yelena placed her hands on your wrist.

“I have done bad things.”

“You were a pawn in someone’s game,” you told her. You reminded her every single day that what she went through in the Red Room was not her fault. “No matter your past, I will always love you.” Yelena made a small noise that came from the back of her throat. You looked at her, confused.

“Did you mean to say that?” You reran the conversation in your head, and your eyes widened.

“Well, not exactly how I wanted to tell you, but that doesn’t make it less true,” Finally, Yelena smiled and allowed you to pull you into a hug. “You don’t have to say it back,” you reminded her. “Tell me when you are ready.” You felt her nod against you. “Oh!” Yelena pulled back to look at you. “I hit a bullseye! On my last throw!” It took a moment for her to realize what you were talking about.

“I am proud of you, Detka. " She kissed you softly. “Can we leave?” You smiled.

“Of course, baby, whatever you want.”

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You were shocked that Yelena had you drive to the nearby motel. You left after a quick goodbye to Natasha and Kate. Yelena was oddly quiet during the ride as she looked out the window. You booked a room for the night and stood in the bathroom brushing your teeth. “They asked me to join the Avengers again,” Yelena said from the bed. You finished before you went out here. She was slowly brushing her hair.

There was a lot you wanted to say. You were furious with the group of heroes, but Yelena needed you to stay calm. “Are you?” You asked instead. The blonde shrugged.

“Feels like I have no choice,” you frowned and moved closer to the bed. You took the brush from her and took over, brushing her hair into two sections to braid it. Another thing you wanted to learn when you started dating Yelena was how to braid her hair. She was patient when she taught you.

“I saw they had room service, and I thought we deserved ice cream,” you saw Yelena’s body shake with laughter. “What flavor do you want?”

“Whatever you want.” It was the simple answer.

“Not what I asked, babe. " You kissed her shoulder and started to braid one section. “What do you want? What is your choice?” She understood your double meaning and couldn’t give an answer right away. But you gave her time, which allowed you to finish one section of hair.

“I do not want to join the Avengers,” her voice was soft. “Does that make me a bad person?”

“No, sweetheart,” you shook your head even though she couldn’t see it. “Your sense of worth isn’t tied to a group you belong to. You could stop fighting right now, and you would still be good,” she tensed up at the word, “You have a heart of gold, Yelena Belova. No matter what you think,” you finished the second braid. Yelena turned to look at you. Her lips pressed against yours softly.

“Thank you,” she smiled.

“You’re welcome. Now,” you stood up. “I was serious about the ice cream. What flavor do you want?” Yelena chuckled.

“Chocolate” A perfect choice.

_

Like I said in the beginning, I do have a part of two of this little story so let me know if you guys want to see more.

[mononijikayu]

don’t they know it's the end of the world (cause you don’t love me anymore) — geto suguru.

You blinked, the knot in your chest tightening as you took in his face, his solemn expression that didn’t match the usual carefree look he wore. Was he already saying goodbye in some way? You shook your head slowly, the smile coming to your lips, though it carried a mixture of sadness and certainty. "Sugu, how could you even think about that?… I could never forget about you."  “It can happen, you know. Life happens.” He smiles in a small timid manner.   Your voice was soft, but there was no doubt in it. "No, you’re wrong. You’re the most important person in my life. How could I forget someone like you?"

GENRE: alternate universe - canon divergence;

WARNING/S: gen, afab! reader, angst, fluff, friendship, friends to lovers, eventual romance, slice of life, conflicted feelings, hurt/comfort, sad ending, physical touch, pet names (sugu, buttercup) mentioned character death, depression, mourning, loneliness, pain, grief, internal conflict, post-hidden inventory at the end, letting go, break up, meeting each other again, depiction of childhood, depiction of romance, depiction of internal conflict, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, depiction of depression, mention of internal conflict, non! sorcerer reader, sorcerer! suguru;

WORD COUNT: 10k words

NOTE: im soon back at university, so im rush writing everything and so im exhausted all the time too. so if im not updating, its because im probably regretting my life decisions. though, in any case, i will still publish as much as i can. im about two/three finished with valentines fics, but im tortured by sukuna because i have a standard with him and i can't escape it. anyway, i wrote this for suguru's birthday. he would have been thirty-five today!!! i hope you enjoy this fic!!! i love you all!!! see you on the sixth!!! <3

main masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

══════════════════

IF YOU COULD DESCRIBE WONDER, IT WOULD BE BEING BY SUGURU’S SIDE. No one else could understand it, you like to think. What the two of you had, it was certainly a language made for two. It was a life that was built for the purpose of being known by you both. And you like to think that he feels the same way too.

You and Suguru had been together since you were kids, bound by an unspoken connection that neither of you ever questioned. Because, there was nothing to question about it. Nor could words even describe it all. It was too unique, too intriguing. And yet, it only belonged to the two of you.

It all started on a warm afternoon at the school playground, where laughter and shrieks filled the air as children ran around in endless games of tag. It was a long while ago, and yet it felt like yesterday to you. You could feel your eyes twitching as you watched from where you stood, permeating with desire and anxiety. 

You had been standing alone for a while, just a bit near the jungle gym, watching all the kids giggle and run about, with the zeal of youth dashing along with them.

As you watched them there with eager eyes, you kept wishing you could join in too, you wished you could run amok with joy too. But that heavy weight of fear blossoms your hesitation. It held you back from a lot of things, including making friends.

Yet, why wouldn’t you feel like this? You were new in town, and you didn’t know these kids. You didn't know any life lived in this place before you had come. Everything was new for you, as much as you were sure it would also be new to them. 

How would they even react to you, knowing you aren’t a familiar face they were already comfortable seeing? How would you interact with them, anyway? It’s not like you could just jump in and smile and just jump in easily? This is a sea and if you plunge so deep, you could drown. And you didn’t want that to happen. Not here, not when you were starting a new life. 

But then, that’s when he found you.

"Why are you just standing here?" a voice asked.

You turned to see a boy with dark hair, a little messy from running around, and warm, curious eyes. He wasn’t out of breath, despite the wild chase of tag that had just ended. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his tiny shorts, and he looked at you like he was trying to figure you out.

"I….I don’t know how to approach them." you muttered, kicking at a loose pebble. "I’m not sure how to come and tell them I want to play too, so I….."

Suguru blinked, then without hesitation, he grinned and reached out a hand to you. "I see…..Then let’s play together! I don’t care if you’re slow. I’ll just run at your speed, if that would make it easier on you."

Your eyes swiftly widened, surprised by the easy kindness in his voice. "Really?"

"Yeah!" he said enthusiastically. "I’ll even let you tag me first."

That was the beginning of everything, that was certain.

During recess, the world belonged to just the two of you. You ran hand in hand across the playground, unbothered by who was faster or slower. You hummed little tunes under your breath, and he giggled at the way you always skipped a step ahead before doubling back to him. You hopped, he ran, and sometimes, in the joy of it all, you tripped over each other’s feet and tumbled into the dirt.

And if one of you scraped a knee? The other sat down beside them without hesitation. If you fell, Suguru would plop down next to you, crossing his arms stubbornly. “I’m not playing if you’re not playing. That’s just how it is!

And you would do the same for him, because what was the fun in anything if he wasn’t right there beside you?

Nothing was ever quite complete without each other.

It wasn’t a good day unless you were together.

Even as you grew older, nothing changed.

The playground turned into quiet walks home, but your hands still found each other without thinking.

"You still hold my hand like we’re kids, Sugu," you teased one afternoon, fingers laced together as you walked home. The sun hung low in the sky, spilling warm golden light over the quiet street. Your shadows stretched long behind you, linked together like a promise.

Suguru glanced down at your hands, his grip tightening just slightly. "Yeah? You don’t like it?"

You smiled, squeezing back. "I never said that, you know!"

His grin was soft but sure, a mirror of the way he had always been with you. "Good. Because you’re still my favorite person."

And really, wasn’t that all that mattered?

══════════════════

IF YOUR BIRTHDAY COULD BE A HOLIDAY, SUGURU WOULD MAKE SURE OF IT. Your birthday has always been special, you know that much. But now more than ever, especially because, for as long as you could remember, Geto Suguru had been by your side for most of it. Now, it was even more special than before. 

The years blurred together in a collage of memories: the laughter, the excitement, the simple moments that felt so big when they were shared with him. There were so many pictures, pictures of the two of you, year after year.

You were always together. His presence in every single one, a steady anchor through the passing time. One that was the only constant throughout the world that keeps on changing.

Whether it was the early mornings, when you both rushed around the house, throwing together last-minute gifts for each other in the midst of the chaos of birthday preparations, or the quiet evenings spent chatting under the stars, those moments were always colored by Suguru’s unique way of making everything feel more important. 

He never treated your birthday like just another day. To him, it was an event, something that deserved to be celebrated with the utmost care. After all, it was the day you were born—the day you were with him. And to Suguru, that meant the world.

He didn’t just show up for your birthday. 

No, he took it as seriously as he would a test. 

He planned it meticulously, down to the smallest detail, as though the day had to be perfect.

"I thought you might like this, buttercup!" he’d say with a grin, always just a little too proud of whatever thoughtful gift he managed to get you, even if you’d both picked it out together the day before. "I’m pretty sure you’ll love it." 

And every time, no matter how simple the gift, the thought behind it always felt like the most meaningful gesture.

On your birthday mornings, you’d wake up to the smell of something delicious.  The pancakes, bacon, whatever it was that he knew you’d love, always cooked with that special touch that made it taste even better. He would rush in, hands full of wrapped presents, bright eyes sparkling like a child eager to see your reaction. 

"You ready?" he’d ask, bouncing on his heels.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight— Geto Suguru, the one who always had his life together, who always so composed, turned into a ball of excitement for just one day.

Even in the evenings, as the day began to fade and the sky turned dark, you would find yourselves sitting together outside, wrapped in blankets under the stars. He’d listen to you talk about the year that had passed, what had changed, what had stayed the same while you both sat in comfortable silence, the kind only the two of you shared.

"Make a wish, okay?" he’d say when it was time to blow out the candles, the way he’d always said it every year. But there was something about the way he said it then, with that little smile on his face, as if he already knew your wish without needing to hear it.

Suguru didn’t need grand gestures. For him, it was always about the little things, the way he made sure your favorite song was playing when you entered the room, the way he’d insist on carrying your cake even though it was ridiculously heavy, the way he refused to let anyone else help you with the birthday prep, because it was his job to make sure everything was just right for you.

And he didn’t think it was just about the day itself. To Suguru, your birthday wasn’t just a celebration of your life; it was a reminder that you existed, that you were here, and that the world—his world—was just a little bit brighter because you were in it.

Every year, as he gave you your gift, no matter how big or small, you could always see that gleam in his eyes. The beautiful gleam that said. "This is important. This is you, this is us, and I’m going to make sure you feel special, because you are."

For Suguru, your birthday wasn’t just another day in the calendar. It was the day you were born—his day to remind you just how much you meant to him, and to celebrate the fact that, all these years later, you were still by his side. 

And when you looked back at all the memories, all those years of birthdays spent with him, you couldn’t help but smile. They weren’t just your birthdays, they were his to celebrate too.

He celebrated them just as fiercely, just as passionately, as if it were his own day to remember. Because, to Suguru, every birthday spent together was a blessing. And he never took that for granted.

But this year, it felt different.

Not because of the cake or the candles. Not because of the way your friends sang off-key, their voices melding into a perfect disaster. No, this year was different because, when the party had quieted down and the night was winding to a close, Suguru handed you a small, neatly wrapped box.

He was sitting beside you on the couch, his beautiful lilac eyes watching you closely as you held the box in your hands, the soft rustle of paper the only sound between you. You could only look at the beautiful box in front of you for the longest time. He clears his throat.

“Are you really not saying anything?”

You looked at him suspiciously, fingers hesitating over the ribbon. "You didn’t have to get me anything, Sugu."

"I wanted to, buttercup." he said simply, nudging the box closer. "Go on, open it."

So you did.

Inside was a delicate silver bracelet, the light catching on the fine chain, making it shimmer. But what caught your attention was the tiny charm hanging from it—a miniature book, small enough to rest in the center of your palm, its metal etched with tiny details that made it look like it had real pages inside.

You blinked up at him, surprise evident in your expression. "Sugu…"

He looked uncharacteristically shy, rubbing the back of his neck. "It’s nothing fancy, but… I thought it’d be nice. Y’know, for us."

"For us?" you repeated, tracing your fingers over the book charm.

Suguru nodded, watching your reaction closely. "Yeah. Because we always read together. Because of all those afternoons spent sharing a book, arguing over who gets to turn the page first—"

"You always turn the page too fast, you know." you interrupted with a pout.

"And you always get distracted by random things in the margins, buttercup." he shot back, smirking. “We’re both not good at it.”

You huffed. "That’s called appreciating the details, Suguru."

"Sure, sure." he laughed, shaking his head. "Anyway, that’s the first one."

You tilted your head. "First?"

He reached over, taking your wrist gently in his hands as he fastened the bracelet around it, his touch careful, warm. "Every birthday from now on, I’m giving you a charm. One for each year. Something that means something to us."

Your breath caught for a moment.

"You’re serious?" you asked, looking up at him.

Suguru met your gaze, his expression unwavering. "Completely." Then, with a lopsided grin, he added. "You’re stuck with me for a long time, you know."

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. Everything about you just felt warm, especially when you looked at it, knowing he put a lot of thought on this beautiful present. The bracelet felt light on your wrist, but the promise it carried felt heavier. This was solid, real, unshakable. Just like your relationship with him, ironclad for all your lives.

"Good." you said, squeezing his hand before letting go. "Because I wouldn’t want it any other way."

And back then, with Geto Suguru beside you, his promise wrapped around your wrist and his warmth wrapped around your heart, you believed it.

You really, really did.

══════════════════

ALL BIRTHDAYS ARE HAPPY, WELL THEY SHOULD BE. But this morning, this birthday of yours, it was not something that just truly felt odd. You had tried to put it off, knowing that it wasn’t the right place or time to talk about it. You could feel it, you know you do. Something was wrong with your best friend. 

Geto Suguru had been unusually quiet all day, even when he was trying to be casual and jolly, smiling at you. But you knew there was something going on and you couldn't put your finger on why. The excitement of the day had dulled a little, as the two of you moved through the motions of cake and presents, but something in the air felt different.

It wasn’t until later that afternoon when everything changed.

You had walked him to the train station, like you always did, ever since he moved to another part of the city. Though this time, there was an unspoken weight that drowned between you, a heaviness that neither of you could shake. Geto Suguru, usually so confident and carefree, seemed distant, his usual smile a little more strained.

"I got in." he said, as the train pulled up to the station, his voice barely above a whisper, yet somehow carrying the weight of his words.

You paused, unsure of what he meant at first. "Got in?"

He nodded, his eyes avoiding yours for a moment before meeting your gaze. "To Jujutsu High School. I’m going to Tokyo."

Your heart skipped, the reality of the situation sinking in like ice water. 

He was going to leave you, you were going to be separated. 

Your Suguru was heading to Tokyo to train, on the other side of your world.

For the first time in years, you wouldn’t be by each other’s side every day. The thought was almost impossible to process. Not when you had been together for so long, just being bubbles in each other’s circle. Your lips parted, you wanted to say something. But you didn’t know what. You were too stunned to speak. 

"Wait, you’re leaving? When?" you whispered, your voice suddenly became small. 

“Tomorrow.” He whispered, his tone almost blossoming with shame. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I don’t….I didn’t want to ruin the time and I didn't think it was going to come any time soon, but it just….��

"But… but today’s my birthday, Sugu."

Suguru gave you a sad smile, his hand reaching out to ruffle your hair. "I know. I’m sorry. But it’s not goodbye forever, okay? We’ll keep in touch, I promise."

You nodded, but the lump in your throat made it hard to speak. Suguru was your rock, your constant. The thought of him being so far away, in a completely different city, felt like the world was shifting beneath your feet.

He took a step closer to you, lowering his voice. "I didn’t want to leave without giving you something special." He pulled out a small box from his pocket, holding it out to you. 

You took it from his warm hands, your eyes brimming with questions. When you opened it, a soft gasp escaped your lips. Inside was a new charm for your bracelet—a delicate purple colored buttercup, its petals etched with such fine detail that it looked almost real. It was beautiful. And soulful. Almost glistening as brightly as his eyes.

He smiled gently, a warmth in his eyes as he slipped the charm onto your bracelet. "It’s a buttercup," he said softly. "My nickname for you. So I thought…I thought it would be perfect."

You stared at the charm for a moment, the lump in your throat thickening. "You still call me that…"

Suguru’s smile grew tender. "Always will. And whenever you look at it, I want you to think of me, okay? Think of me often."

You blinked away the tears threatening to spill and smiled back at him. "I will, Sugu. I promise."

He pulled you into a tight hug, holding you close for just a moment longer than usual. "Take care of yourself, alright? And don’t forget—I’m just a train ride away. Osaka is not that far. So when you need me, call me. Okay?"

“Okay.” You squeezed him back, trying to imprint the moment into your memory, trying to hold onto the feeling of him next to you. "I won’t forget. I’ll think of you every day."

Suguru pulled away slowly, his fingers brushing the side of your face. "I know you will."

The train’s loud engine roared to brutish life, and the sound of the wheels on the tracks made your chest tighten even further. You watched Suguru stand by the window.

His beautiful face illuminated by the soft afternoon light as the train slowly started to pull away. Your feet felt rooted to the ground, your mind racing with so many things you wanted to say, things you didn’t know how to say.

But before you could stop yourself, something inside you snapped. You took a step forward, then another, and then you were running, your heart pounding heavily in your chest, your breath coming faster as you pushed yourself harder, faster, chasing the train like you could somehow outrun the fear that gripped your heart.

"Suguru!" you called out, your voice shaking, but loud enough for him to hear.

He turned around in surprise, his eyes wide as he saw you running toward him. The train was moving faster now, but he didn’t hesitate. You could see how his face lit up with a mix of disbelief and hope, his hand pressed against the window.

"Sugu!" you shouted again, your heart racing even harder, your legs moving as if they had a will of their own. The distance between you seemed so large, but you weren’t going to stop.

He leaned closer to the window, his hand now reaching out, as if trying to touch you through the glass. You could see the concern on his face, his bright lilac eyes filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite name, but it made you move faster, faster than you thought you could.

When you finally reached the side of the train, you stopped just short of losing your breath. You pressed your hands to your chest, feeling your heart pounding, and you looked up at him, eyes shining.

"I love you, Suguru!" you blurted, the words spilling out before you could stop them.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Geto Suguru froze, his eyes wide in astonishment, as though he hadn’t expected you to say it—that particular thing, not now, not like this. You watched him, your heart hanging in the air between you, waiting for his reaction, wondering if you had made a mistake.

But then, his expression softened, and a smile broke through the surprise. It wasn’t just a smile you see. It was his smile, that beautiful smile that only belonged to you. The one that made everything feel like it would be okay, no matter what. He nodded slowly, a little chuckle escaping his lips as he leaned closer to the window, as if pulling you in even from a distance.

"I love you too, buttercup!" he said, his voice full of warmth, his eyes soft but certain.

And just like that, everything that had felt so heavy was lifted, the weight of the unspoken tension, the distance between you, all of it faded into the background of that moment. You smiled back at him, breathless but relieved, and the world around you seemed to slow down.

The train started to pick up speed again, and Suguru gave you one last look, his smile still lingering as he waved.

"Take care of yourself, okay?" he called out, his voice carrying over the noise of the train.

"I will!" you said, a smile tugging at your lips. "I’ll always think of you."

And with that, the train pulled away, leaving you standing there, heart full, the buttercup charm on your bracelet gleaming softly in the fading light. 

That train carried your heart with him.

But you were sure that you held his heart here too.

You looked at your buttercup charm, smiling.

“Come back to me soon, okay?”

══════════════════

THERE WAS SOMETHING ABOUT HOW MUCH HE HAD CHANGED. And all he could do was wish that you didn’t see it, that you would never find out the truth. All he could pray for was that you didn’t notice the light in his eyes dying or the bitterness of the taste from the curses he was forced to consume still on his tongue.  

Geto Suguru has always been a powerful force of nature, a rock withstanding everything in his way. In a way, he was also your rock, your steady presence in your life. No matter what was happening around him, he was there, unwavering, holding everything together with that quiet strength of his. 

But recently, something in him had started to shift. Something he wasn’t prepared to admit to just yet. Ever since Amanai Riko’s death, the change had been subtle at first, there were those small signs that he was struggling, pulling away just a little more each day. But now, as the days passed, it became harder to ignore.

Geto Suguru was slipping.

And he didn’t know how to stop it.

He didn’t know how to be more than this.

He didn’t know the way out of it.

He found himself lost in a fog of thoughts he couldn’t quite articulate, his emotions tangled in a web he couldn't find a way out of. The burden of loss weighed heavily on him, crushing him in ways he didn’t know how to handle. But he couldn’t—wouldn’t—let you see it. Not today. Not on your birthday. Not on your last day together.

He had made it a point, from the moment you walked into the room, to be the Suguru you knew. He plastered on that familiar smile, spoke to you like everything was fine, and made sure the day went on like any other. 

But the moment you looked away, or when you laughed, or when he caught you looking at him with that softness in your eyes, a heaviness settled deep in his chest. He wanted to say something, to tell you what was really happening, but the words felt like they were caught in his throat, unable to escape.

You had no idea what he was battling inside.

And he couldn’t bear to burden you with it—not on your special day.

It was the evening, the sun sinking low in the sky, and you both sat together on the balcony of his apartment, watching the colors in the sky shift from gold to deep blue. The breeze was warm, and you had your head resting on his shoulder, the same way you had for years. You both sat there in a comfortable silence, but Suguru’s mind was anywhere but there.

"I’m really glad we could spend the day together, Sugu." you said softly, your voice like a melody that brought him back to the present. “Thank you for coming to visit me, even with your busy schedule.”

Suguru nodded, his smile barely there as he kept his gaze on the horizon, afraid if he looked at you too long, you would see the cracks he was trying to hide. "Me too, buttercup." he said, but even to his own ears, the words didn’t sound right. They didn’t carry the weight they should have.

You could feel the subtle shift in his energy, the way he wasn’t fully present. He wasn’t the Geto Suguru you knew, the Sugu who would always make you laugh, who would hold you close and whisper silly things to keep your spirits high. He was distant, almost like a shadow of himself. And you knew he hated it, even without saying it to you.

"Sugu." you said quietly, sitting up to look at him, your hand gently touching his arm. "You okay?"

Suguru flinched, the question catching him off guard. He gave a small, forced laugh, trying to brush it off. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, I guess. I’ve….been very busy."

But you didn’t buy it. You knew him better than anyone else, and you could see the lie in his eyes. But he wasn’t ready to talk, not now, not on the day that was meant to be yours, not on the day that he wanted to protect you from his own chaos. He didn’t want you to see him like this, not when everything was supposed to be perfect.

He wanted to be strong for you, wanted to be the Geto Suguru you deserved, the Geto Suguru that you love, the Geto Suguru you knew. But the weight of the world felt like it was crushing him from the inside, and he didn’t know how to hold it together anymore. 

You reached up to touch his cheek, the gesture so simple but full of the warmth you had always shared. "Sugu… you don’t have to hide from me. Not now. Not ever."

He froze at your touch, his lilac eyes shutting softly, even for just a brief second. He wanted to let it all go, wanted to break down in front of you, but he couldn’t. Not like this. Not today. He swallowed hard, the words choking him before he could even say them.

"I’m fine." he repeated, but there was no conviction in his voice. “Really, buttercup. Don’t worry so much about me, okay?”

You didn’t push him further, but the sadness in his once bright eyes told you everything you needed to know. He was breaking inside, but he didn’t want you to see it. He didn’t want you to know. He didn’t want to talk about it just yet. He wasn’t ready. Not yet. And especially not on your last day together.

"Okay." you whispered softly, leaning back against his shoulder once more, both of you falling into silence again.

But Geto Suguru knew. He knew that you would always see through him. And as you sat there, so close, yet so far from what was really happening, he couldn’t help but feel like he was losing grip on everything. He thought he was losing himself, you, on the life you had dreamed of sharing.

And so, the night passed in a quiet sadness, Suguru’s heart heavy with emotions he couldn’t quite express. Tomorrow, he will leave. Tomorrow, everything will change. He knew that all too well. By sunrise, you wouldn’t recognize him anymore. By sunrise, he wouldn’t be your Sugu anymore. 

But for tonight, he would hold onto this—hold onto you, and pretend that everything was okay, just for a little while longer. He thinks he could pretend one last time and keep you with him, enjoying the need of warmth that only you could understand.

The evening air was still, the world outside quieting as the stars began to prick the darkening sky. You sat together for a little while, as you waited for the train to come. Geto Suguru’s silence was heavy, but there was a soft, almost palpable tenderness in the way he was beside you. It was always that way, when he was beside you. Even when you were kids.

But the silence was a new thing. This silence was so loud, and yet so deafening. Yet you also didn’t bridge the gap. At least not tonight. He didn’t need it right now and you can tell. You just took a deep breath and waited, staring off the train tracks. 

Your Suguru seemed lost in his own thoughts, his calloused fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the railing in front of you, his lilac gaze ever so lost in the faraway space. To the place you could not follow.

But you knew it was just his way of trying to hold everything in. Then, after a moment that felt like eternity, he broke the quiet, his voice soft but steady, like he was trying to make it sound casual when it wasn’t. 

"I got you something, buttercup." he said, his hand reaching into his pocket. You looked up at him, noticing the faintest tremor in his fingers, but you didn't comment on it.

He pulled out a small, carefully wrapped box, offering it to you with a look that was a mix of hesitation and something deeper, something he couldn’t quite put into words. "I know it’s not much, but I wanted to give you something… meaningful. Like always."

You took the box from him, your little heart fluttering a little in anticipation, not knowing what to expect. Slowly, you unwrapped it with much care, your tender fingers gently peeling back the layers until you saw what was inside.

It was a charm, delicate and beautiful, with a tiny forget-me-not flower carved into its surface. The petals were soft, yet detailed, their edges just slightly raised as if to give them life, to make them feel real. The forget-me-not. It was simple but meaningful, and somehow, it felt like it held everything unsaid between you two in one small, fragile flower.

Suguru’s voice broke the moment, barely above a whisper, but heavy with emotion. "I want you to always remember me, buttercup." he said, his gaze meeting yours, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t place. "No matter what happens, no matter where life takes us, never forget about me."

You froze for a heartbeat, confusion washing over you at his words. Never forget about him?

The thought didn’t make sense. Geto Suguru was more than just a memory; he was the person who had shaped so much of your life, the one who had been there for you through everything. He was your everything. How could you forget him?

You blinked, the knot in your chest tightening as you took in his face, his solemn expression that didn’t match the usual carefree look he wore. Was he already saying goodbye in some way?

You shook your head slowly, the smile coming to your lips, though it carried a mixture of sadness and certainty. "Sugu, how could you even think about that?… I could never forget about you." 

“It can happen, you know. Life happens.” He smiles in a small timid manner.  

Your voice was soft, but there was no doubt in it. "No, you’re wrong. You’re the most important person in my life. How could I forget someone like you?"

Suguru’s lilac eyes softened at your words, the weight of the moment easing just a little as you spoke. His chapped lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something more, but he only let out a quiet, relieved breath, his shoulders relaxing for the first time that evening.

He reached out, gently placing the forget-me-not charm on your bracelet, his fingers lingering there for a moment longer than necessary. "I just… I need to know you’ll always remember. Even when we’re apart.”

"I will, I promise." you said, your voice firm, the sincerity in your words reaching the deepest parts of him. "I’ll always think of you. Every single day, every single hour. Even the seconds. I’ll always remember you, Suguru. You’re too important to forget."

“Is that so?”

You hummed, smiling at him. “Hm. Because I love you.”

For a brief, tender moment, Suguru’s eyes seemed to shine with something that wasn’t just sadness but relief. It was as if the weight of the unspoken fears, the guilt, and the pain he’d been carrying had finally started to lift, just a little. He smiled, a real, heartfelt smile that reached his eyes.

"Good," he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "That’s all I need to hear."

And there, under the stars, with the sound of the world fading into a quiet lull, you both sat together. You didn’t need words to fill the silence that had settled between you. The charm on your bracelet was a promise, a symbol of everything you had been through, everything you had shared, and everything that was still to come.

"I love you too, buttercup." Suguru whispered, his voice barely above a breath, but the words carried so much weight, so much meaning that it felt like the whole world had shifted in that instant.

You didn’t hesitate, not for a second. "I know, Sugu. I know." you replied, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips, a smile that only he could make appear. 

It was a statement, but one that wasn’t born out of arrogance. It was the truth. The truth that had been there all along, between the quiet moments, the shared laughter, the years of growing together. He was your constant, just as you were his.

And you had always known, known in the very marrow of your bones.

he loved you too. More than anything in life. More than the universe could know.

Suguru didn’t immediately respond. He simply stared at you, his gaze softening with an intensity that almost made it hard to breathe. He shifted closer, his hands rising slowly, as if afraid that if he moved too fast, you would vanish in an instant. His fingers brushed against the curve of your jaw before they settled on your cheeks, warm and grounding.

His touch was gentle, the weight of his hands steady against your skin, as though he was afraid to touch you too hard, afraid that any sudden movement would make you slip through his fingers.

His gaze never wavered from your face, and for a long moment, it was like the world faded away. There was nothing but the two of you, him, close enough for you to feel the warmth of his presence, and you, feeling like the universe had shrunk to this moment.

Suguru’s eyes searched for yours, his expression both tender and filled with something deeper, something that only someone who had loved you for so long could understand. It was as though he was memorizing every detail of you.

The way the light caught in your eyes, the curve of your lips, the soft flutter of your lashes when you blinked. He took in your features like he was afraid they would slip away, like time was running out and he couldn’t afford to miss a single second of it.

His thumb traced the outline of your cheekbone, the movement so soft it almost tickled, but it was full of reverence. As if you were something sacred to him, something irreplaceable. As if you were the most important pearl of the world, shining in front of him, making him your sea. 

"You’re so beautiful, buttercup." he whispered, and the words held so much more than just a compliment. It was the way he said them, as if he had seen every side of you—your strengths, your flaws, your heart—and still, in every corner of it, you were beautiful to him. 

The simplicity of the words took your breath away, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. You just looked at him, feeling the weight of his love like a gentle embrace, like it wrapped around your heart, holding it safe in his hands.

You didn’t need to speak to feel the truth of it all. This moment, this space between you, felt like the entire universe had conspired to bring you to this point, where everything you had shared and everything you had yet to share hung in the balance of this silent exchange.

Suguru leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel the way his body was still, but there was a pulse of something deep inside him, something he wasn’t fully ready to let go of, not yet. And in that breathless, delicate space, you let your own heart speak.

"I love you, Sugu." you whispered back, your voice trembling just slightly, but filled with a certainty that made everything else fade into the background.

His hands cupped your face a little tighter, his thumbs stroking the soft skin of your cheeks as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world. "I’ll never forget you, buttercup." he murmured, almost as if he was saying it to himself, but you heard it. “You’re everything I am. Everything I breathe.”

The weight of it hung in the air, and though his words were bittersweet, you felt a flicker of hope in them.

"I’ll never forget you either." you whispered, your voice steady and sure, despite the turmoil swirling within you.

Because you knew that no matter where life took you both, Suguru would always be a part of you. No amount of time or distance could change that. “You’re my everything too.”

You leaned into his touch, your foreheads pressing gently together, the warmth of his hands grounding you both in the moment. His lilac eyes closed for a beat, a soft sigh escaping him as if he, too, was trying to hold on to this feeling, trying to commit it to memory just as you were.

And for that brief moment, there was no goodbye. There was only the now, the shared stillness, the love between you both, wrapped up in the quiet understanding that no matter what happened, you would always carry each other with you.

He moved his face closer, his lips brushing softly against your forehead. The kiss was light, like a promise, a silent vow that this love, this sacred bond between the two of you, it would never truly be broken, no matter the miles between you.

Suguru’s lips linger on your forehead for a moment longer, a soft, lingering warmth that makes everything else feel distant, as if time had slowed down just for the two of you.

The world outside the station, the sound of the train tracks, the noises of the city, the ticking of the clock, everything seemed muted, fading into the background as you both existed in this fragile, perfect bubble of quiet.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes soft but laden with an unspoken weight. He looked like he wanted to say something more, something important, but the words never quite formed. 

Instead, he just studied your face, as if he was trying to memorize everything about you. Every little memory of you, your bright expression, the way your long hair fell around your face, the way your eyes held a kindness that had always been there, even in the most difficult of times.

“I’ll miss you.” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, a subtle crack breaking through the calm facade he’d been trying so hard to maintain.

You nodded, your heart aching as his words sank in. The truth was, you would miss him too, more than you could ever put into words. You couldn’t even imagine what life would be like without him so close, without his constant presence to steady you.

The thought of the distance between you both made the space around you feel colder, as though the warmth of his touch was already slipping through your fingers.

“I’ll miss you too, Sugu. More than you know.” you whispered back, the truth of it making your voice tremble just slightly.

He smiled, a sad, bittersweet thing, his thumb tracing the outline of your jaw once more, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every moment.

"Just remember, buttercup." he murmured, his eyes soft but intense. "No matter where we are, no matter how far apart we get, I’ll always be with you. I’ll always be there, in everything we’ve shared."

"I know." you said, nodding again, a small smile tugging at your lips. “And I’ll always carry a piece of you with me. In my heart.”

Geto Suguru’s breath caught at your words, his eyes glistening as if he wanted to say something more, but the emotion was too much, too overwhelming. Instead, he just leaned in and kissed your forehead once more, gentle but full of all the feelings he couldn’t quite express.

“I’ll be waiting, buttercup.” he whispered, his voice low, but there was a fierce determination behind it. “No matter how long it takes. I’ll be waiting for you.”

You looked up at him, your heart full, eyes brimming with something that could have been tears if you let it. You didn’t speak for a moment, just held his gaze, feeling the weight of his words settle into you like a warm, comforting blanket.

Finally, you smiled through the lump in your throat, the quiet sadness blending with something softer, something hopeful. "I’ll come back to you, Sugu. I promise. So come back to me too, okay?"

The words hung between you, a promise sealed in the silence that followed. 

He can’t promise something like that to you, not like this now. 

By sunrise, he can no longer come back to you, never again.

And yet, he still does, he lets this promise be unfulfilled.

He lets this moment be a little white lie to keep your smile.

Suguru nodded, a small, hopeful smile on his lips, but his eyes, those dark, familiar eyes, held a quiet ache. He didn’t say anything else, just stayed close, his hand still on your cheek, his presence steady even though the moment was winding down. The night was still, and it felt like time was slipping away too fast.

“I should go, buttercup.” Suguru said, his voice tinged with reluctance. "But I’ll see you again, right? You’ll visit me when you can, won’t you?"

You nodded, already knowing how much this meant to him. You smiled tenderly at him, you smiled at him like you loved him. You smiled at him like he deserves to have it. And yet he doesn’t. The devil does not deserve such a thing.

"Of course I will." you reassured him, reaching up to touch his hand, the one that had stayed on your cheek. "I won’t let you forget about me."

His smile grew just a little, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there was a glimmer of peace in his eyes. "I could never forget about you."

And with that, he gave you one last kiss on the forehead, light and full of everything unsaid, full of everything you would carry with you in your heart. He pulled back slowly, his hand slipping from your cheek to your hand.

His fingers lingering for a moment longer, as though reluctant to let go. Then, with a final, lingering look, he turned and made his way toward the door. He didn't want to leave. He didn't want this to be the last time. But he had to. He had to go.

He let himself step into it, the door closing softly behind him. For a moment, you felt the weight of the world shift. The quiet that followed his departure felt louder than any noise, and yet, somehow, you knew you’d be okay. You’d carry him with you, just like you promised.

The night grew darker, but the small forget-me-not charm on your bracelet caught the light, reminding you of everything you had shared. It was more than just a memory, it was a piece of him that you could hold on to, no matter where life took you both.

Geto Suguru was always going to be a part of you. And no matter the distance, no matter how much time passed, you would never forget him. He was the most important part of your life, and that would never change.

Two days later, you got the call.

He had gone missing, his parents were gone.

And you?

You had lost the love of your life.

That was his goodbye.

══════════════════

epilogue

A LONG TIME HAD COME AND GONE, BUT IT STILL FEELS LIKE YESTERDAY. Seven years had passed since Geto Suguru’s defection from the jujutsu society, since the time he turned away from everything he once held dear. Time had blurred the edges of the past for everyone except him. 

He had tried to move on, he knew he had to. He had all but tried to bury his memories deep enough so that they no longer haunted him. But there were days when everything came rushing back to him.

The horror on his parents faces that night, their deaths at his own hands, the ones he had betrayed, the village consumed by blue flame. And then there was you, the love he had lost and left. The one he had let go and fly away.

From the shadows, Suguru watched you kneel before the graves, the sun hanging low in the sky, casting long shadows across the quiet cemetery. You were gentle with the flowers, your movements soft as you arranged the bouquets on the gravestones, your fingers careful as they brushed away the dust that had accumulated over time. 

He had never imagined, in his darkest moments, that he would see you here—so close, yet so far away from everything he had become. But there you were, tending to the graves of the parents he had killed, as if it was something he had never been able to do. You were doing it for him, in a way, even though you didn’t have to.

He had heard the stories about it all. He had to keep his tabs on you, he just couldn’t stay away, even now. Throughout the years, he heard whispers of how you had married, how you had continued on without him, a life of your own.

He had known that it was bound to happen, but it didn’t make it any easier. To see you with a ring on your finger, a life that no longer had a place for him, a life that had moved on while he stayed stuck in his past.

The soft rustle of the wind moved through the trees, and that was when you turned your head, your eyes meeting his. For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. You blinked, as if you weren’t quite sure you were seeing him, but then there was no mistaking it.

Geto Suguru was standing there, just outside the cemetery gate, watching you with that same quiet intensity that had always been his. The world seemed to hold its breath as you slowly rose to your feet, the weight of his gaze pulling you in.

He didn’t speak at first, not knowing what to say. 

After all this time, what was there left to say?

He had left you and you had suffered.

What could someone who broke their promise say?

You walked toward him, your expression unreadable but steady, your steps purposeful. As you got closer, he noticed the glint of sunlight on your finger, and his breath hitched before he could stop himself. The wedding ring.

It was a beautiful thing, one could say. But when he looked at it, it was all but a bitter ugly, disgusting thing. It was a reminder of the life you had. A life he had never been a part of, a life he had given up on when he made the choices he did. 

You stopped in front of him, your gaze unwavering. You looked at him for a long moment, your eyes searching his face, almost as if you were still trying to figure him out after all this time. "I didn’t think you’d come back here." you said quietly, your voice thick with something he couldn’t place. Maybe it was sorrow. Maybe it was a relief.

Suguru felt a pang in his chest, but he swallowed it down. "I didn’t think I would either." His voice was rough, almost foreign to him after so many years of silence, but the words still carried weight. "But... here I am."

Your gaze flickered to the bracelet on your wrist—the one with the forget-me-not, the buttercup, the book charm. It was a silent progression that told a story. A long forgotten story, one that only you and him could remember. It was at one point his story. His presence, his absence, his love. And now it wasn’t. Not anymore.

That Geto Suguru is dead.

All that remains is an imposter.

All that remains is a devil.

"I never took it off." you said, a small, sad smile playing at the corner of your lips. "You told me to never forget you. I thought I would, after all these years... but I never could." 

Your fingers traced the charms lightly, the memory of the years that had passed between you both lingering in the air like a ghost. "I couldn’t take it off, Suguru. Not even when it felt like I should."

He couldn’t quite hide the sadness that flickered in his eyes at your words, but he didn’t look away. He had been the one to leave. He had been the one to make all the wrong decisions, and yet, somehow, you had never given up on him. You had never completely forgotten him.

Suguru reached into his pocket slowly, his movements deliberate, as though he were unsure of his next step. He pulled out a small charm, delicate and beautiful, white chrysanthemums this time, it was an offering of something new, something that said goodbye and hello being said like it was the same word.  He held it out to you, his eyes never leaving yours. 

"For you." he whispered, his voice barely audible, but full of all the unspoken feelings that had built up over the years. "I know it’s too late. But I want you to have it."

You took it from him, your fingers brushing against his for just a heartbeat before you looked down at the charm in your palm. The white chrysanthemums were soft, intricate, and they reminded you of the fleeting nature of everything. It was full of the memories, the love, the pain.

You smiled, a bittersweet curve of your lips, your heart heavy with a mixture of emotions that you had long buried. "Sugu….Suguru." you began, your voice steady but thick with something he could almost taste. "For so long, TYou wanted to be remembered. But now... you want to be forgotten."

His heart clenched at your words, but he nodded slowly, as if he had already known, as if it was something he could never change. "You deserve better than to remember a ghost of someone long gone, buttercup." he said, his voice soft but full of the kind of finality that only a ghost could understand. "You deserve a life that’s yours, not one haunted by me."

The distance between you seemed so vast in that moment, even though you were standing right in front of him. The years had stretched that gap wide, and yet, in this final moment, you both understood each other completely. 

You stood there, the weight of his words heavy between you both, as the space around you seemed to quiet. The cool breeze rustled the trees, the only sound in the air, but even it felt like a distant whisper against the rawness of the moment.

You opened your mouth, a million things on the tip of your tongue, but none of them felt right. Your heart was full of so much you couldn’t put into words. A thousand emotions flooded your chest/

And yet, you felt an aching kind of clarity in his request. You hadn’t expected it. You hadn’t expected him to say those words, to say that he wanted you to forget him. To leave him behind as if he were nothing more than a faded memory.

He stood before you, his back slightly turned, but he didn’t move away. His eyes, those dark, familiar eyes, were locked onto the distance, as though he was already gone in his mind, already on his way to somewhere far from this place, from you.

You swallowed hard, your gaze flickering over his face, trying to catch any hint of a smile, of the warmth that had once been there between you both. But it was gone. Everything had long perished to nothing.

The man in front of you wasn’t the same person you had known all those years ago, and deep down, you knew that neither were you. You had both changed, time had done its work, and the world had swept you in different directions.

"So, if I see you again—" you started, unsure of where to take the conversation, unsure of whether there even was a conversation left to have.

Suguru’s smile was sad, almost imperceptible, but it was there, and it tugged at your heart more than anything else. “Pass by, buttercup.” he said, his voice so soft, so worn. "Don’t look at me. You shouldn’t remember me. Just...."

Let me go. He thinks to himself. Don't love me again.

The simplicity of his request hit you harder than any words of anger or resentment could have. You shouldn’t remember me. He was asking you, begging you, to forget him. As though he was a shadow, a passing thing, unworthy of your attention, of your love, of your memories.

For a moment, you just stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind spinning with the weight of it all. You wanted to shout, to argue, to tell him that he was wrong—that you couldn’t just erase him from your life like he was nothing.

But the silence in the air, the finality in his tone, made you hesitate. It wasn’t anger you heard in his voice. It wasn’t even regret. It was something else entirely. it was something deeper, something rooted in the pain he had carried all these years.

“I can’t just forget you.” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. The truth was raw and simple, and it echoed in your chest as it passed through your lips. "I’ve carried you with me for so long, Suguru. I can’t just erase you from my life."

Suguru turned his head slightly, just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and filled with something you couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t guilt or anger, but something quieter, something softer, as though he was bracing himself for the weight of what he had just asked you to do.

"You don’t need to carry me anymore." he said, his voice barely audible, each word dragging with the weight of a thousand regrets. "I don’t deserve to be remembered. Not by you. Not by anyone. I’ve become someone else, someone I never meant to be." 

His eyes drifted to the ground, and for a moment, he looked almost... defeated. "I hurt too many people, and in the end, I hurt you too."

Those words hung in the air like a star waiting to fall from the sky but they didn’t sting, nor did they cause you any pain. Instead, they felt like the closing of a door, the end of a chapter that had been written in too much pain. You felt your heart ache, but you understood. You had mourned it long ago and this was just the end. The final bow.

You understood because, deep down, you had always known this moment would come. You had always known that one day, Geto Suguru would fade from your life, not because of time or distance, but because he had made himself into something unrecognizable.

You stepped closer, closer than you had been in so many years, the distance between you two now defined not by physical space but by something more profound, something that time had created. Your hand reached out but you stopped. You had to. You knew you can't do this. You purse your lips into a flat line. 

“I see.” You whispered, barely audible over the deafening silence between you. It was as if the world had swallowed your words before they could reach him, and the weight of it all pressed down on your chest like a heavy fog.

"I'm sorry." you murmured, feeling the familiar sting of regret in your heart. 

But the words felt useless now, just as they always had when it came to him. Too many apologies, too many unanswered questions. It was all too late. Geto Suguru shook his head ever so slightly, his dark lilac eyes never leaving the distance beyond you, his voice low but firm. 

“Don’t apologize to me.” he murmured, the edges of his words soft but carrying a weight that made your heart ache. "I should apologize…"

His eyes finally met yours, and for that brief moment, you saw a flicker of vulnerability, something raw and unguarded that he had never allowed anyone to see.

“Buttercup, I’m letting your hand go.” he said, and his voice cracked on the last word, like it pained him to even say it.

You could feel the tears pricking at your eyes, threatening to spill, but you fought them back, the lump in your throat making it harder to breathe. It was too much. Too much to lose, too much to let go of. 

“I know.” you replied, your voice barely a whisper as if saying it out loud would make it all more real. The finality of his words clung to the air, and you wished you could take them back, take him back, but the truth had already been laid bare.

“Goodbye, buttercup.” he said, the words both tender and final, and they fell like a stone into the abyss between you.

“Good… good-bye, Suguru.” you managed to choke out, your voice shaking but steady enough to carry the weight of the moment. Your lips trembled, but you didn’t dare look away from him. There was nothing more to say, nothing more that could fix the pieces that had been shattered between you two.

Geto Suguru gave you one last look. It was so brief, so fleeting, like the last ray of light before the darkness settled in. His gaze lingered on you, a final connection between two souls that had once shared everything but now, they were a thousand miles apart. 

He didn’t say anything else. 

He didn’t look back, not once. 

He simply turned, his figure growing smaller and smaller as he walked away.

Your heart tightened, but you didn’t move. You couldn’t. There was no running after him anymore. He had already made his choice, and you had to respect that, even though it felt like a piece of you was being torn away with every step he took. 

His footsteps were quiet against the earth, a soft rhythm that carried him further into the distance, further away from you, from everything you had ever known. And you stood there, frozen, unable to move, unable to make sense of the emptiness that filled the space where his presence used to be. 

You watched him disappear into the horizon, the last connection between you both unraveling like a thread slipping through your fingers. But this time, you didn’t chase after him. You didn’t need to. You didn’t have the strength anymore. 

There were no more promises, no more hopes of reunion. This was the end of the story that had once been yours, the final chapter in a love that had burned so brightly but had faded into the past. The world had changed, and so had you.

You would never see him again. He would never hold your hand again, never smile that gentle smile that had always made you feel like you were home. And you could feel the weight of that truth pressing down on you, but it didn’t break you.

It was the end of that world. Of the two of you, of the way you had been, of everything that once felt like it was meant to be. And so, you let go. You let go, even as it hurt, even as it felt like the most impossible thing in the world.

You couldn’t love him anymore. Not like you used to. Not in the way that kept him a part of your every thought, every moment. You couldn’t carry that burden with you forever, and you couldn’t make him stay.

As he disappeared completely from sight, you finally exhaled the breath you’d been holding, a quiet sigh that seemed to carry away the remnants of him still lingering in your chest. It wasn’t easy. It would never be easy. But it was the only way forward.

You took a slow step back, your feet heavy with the weight of all the years you had spent loving him. You weren’t sure what the future held, but you knew one thing for certain. You had to let him, or you'll both suffer more.

[gremlin-girly]

Forget-me-not Blues

Ask and ye shall recieve! Buckle up buttercups, this is my first Soulmate AU.

Banner by me and the images were sourced from Pinterest, made in Canva

Dividers by: @/sweetmelodygraphics

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Tags/Warnings: FLUFF, ANGST/WHUMP, Soulmate Mate Mark AU!, mentions of death., mentions of torture, right person wrong time, 2nd and 3rd person P.O.V, petnames (doll)

I’m leaving out some tags so I don’t go spoiling the plot so please read at your own risk! Not beta'd. I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated (or put through AI)

A/N: I cut a huge chunk about Soulmate AU context at the beginning because it felt unnecessary. It's just a world where word/phrase of the soulmate's is written on them; it's not always the first thing they say to a person :)

More Author’s Notes are at the end of this fic so if you want to know more about the flowers and some thoughts I had whilst writing this, please go take a peek! This has been a labour of love.

Summary: A story about finding and losing soulmates to the test of time.

Word count: 4.2k

Navigation | The Bucky Barnes Collection

1942

Your family had owned a flower stand for as long as you could remember. Ever since you could stand on your own two feet your father put you to work handing out daisies to every woman, young or old, that passed by just to put a smile on their face.

Adorned with roses, daisies, poppies and more, the colourful stall had always been popular. Your father expertly wrapped combinations of flowers in old newspapers until the war began. He believed it was bad luck to wrap gifts in bad news.

When your father had been called to return to service, he had entrusted the stall to you. The old women who’d lost husbands and sons in the war would often buy a poppy or three, and any of the soldiers on a short stay would always buy a dozen or so roses for all of the dames.

James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes was one of your best customers. Bucky was always smiling, flirting and generally schmoozing his way by, often with a battered Steve Rogers in tow. Bucky being the big romantic he was liked roses, of course, and would frequently stop by your stall on his way home from work.

“Hey doll,” Bucky grinned, leaning against your display table.

You couldn’t help but smile back. The playful air he had around him was infectious and you half wished you could find a soul mate like him. Or wished you could just have him.

“Afternoon Buck,” You fluff up a pile of pink roses. Despite the trying times, business was booming. A lot of dates, a lot of weddings and a lot of funerals. “Want the usual?”

Bucky plucks up a rose and twirls it in his fingers before raising it to his nose and inhaling the gentle, sweet scent. His grin grows wider, his boyish charm shining through with the glimmer of mischief in his blue eyes and the dirt on his cheeks from a long day at work.

You know what’s coming next.

“No, Bucky.” You say airily, smiling at him as you move to the next pile of roses on the stall. Bucky gapes at you.

“Please, doll. One dance - that’s all ’m askin’!”

It’s now the sixth time he’s asked you and each time he looks like a kicked puppy when you tell him no.

“Yes but one dance turns into two, then three.” You tease, moving around the stall to face him, plucking the rose from his fingers and leaning close. “And then you’ll be dancing with a new dame next week anyway. I’m just cutting out the middle man. Plenty of men like you come by my stall, James.”

You turn away from him with a short shrug, placing the pink rose back into it’s correct pile before moving to a new carefully packed crate of flowers that need unpacking.

“What if I’m not the man you think I am?” Bucky counters, following after you. “Maybe I’m terrible at dancing.”

Chuckling you turn to face him, ready to spout another weak excuse to not go with him, when one of your white roses is stuffed under your nose. Raising an eyebrow you look over at Bucky, who’s smirking at you.

“Hi, my name’s Bucky and, if you’d be so kind as to let me take you dancing sometime, I promise to make it worth your while.”

You feel heat crawl up your face as you start to laugh. “Why are you introducing yourself to me?”

“Because,” Bucky shrugs, the twinkle in his eyes becoming a bright sparkle now that you’re laughing. “I’m not the man you think I am. And life’s too short, doll. I’d like to spend at least one night of my life dancin’ with you.”

How were you going to argue with that?

But something seemed… strange. When you’d say no, usually he’d banter with you a bit more and ask about your dad, you’d ask after his mom, his sister and Steve before he’d trot on his merry little way with you gazing after him.

Today, Bucky was insistent but behind his eyes was a sadness you hadn’t seen before. Your heart strings tugged, something within you screamed at you to say yes like you had desperately wanted to all those times before. No more imagining what it would feel like to have his hands in yours as you twirled and danced well into the night.

“Sure,” you sigh after a few moments, trying not to seem too eager. Bucky beams at you so brightly anyone else would think you’ve hung the moon and hands you your white rose with a mocking bow.

“One dance.” You add firmly, heart fluttering as your fingers brush his when you pluck the rose from him.

Bucky puts his hand on his heart, beginning to walk backwards. As he passes your stall he stuffs a dollar into your change jar and bats his eyelashes innocently at you.

“I only need one dance to make you fall in love with me, doll!” He continues walking backwards, narrowly avoiding other New Yorkers, but his eyes never leave yours. “I’ll pick you up at seven!”

You shake your head with a grin, watching him go. There was an electric charge all around you and you felt excited for your long-dreamed-of date with one Bucky Barnes.

Dancing with Bucky was exactly how you imagined it would be; your feet barely touched the ground as he spun and lifted you. You felt lighter than air as you looked down at Bucky's grinning face, eyes sparkling with joy as he held you close. One dance quickly turned to three.

After the third, Bucky led you to a nearby table.

"So much for one dance." Bucky teases lightly, his hand still lightly holding your waist. You're thankful your flushed cheeks hide your embarrassment but you're smiling regardless. Before he can ask you what drink he can get you, We'll Meet Again begins to crackle over the speaker and you drag him back to the dance floor.

"Hey, shouldn't I be leading doll?" He jokes, hands immediately encompassing your hips once you'd found a space to sway in.

"Hush," You murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I like this song."

Bucky smiles down at you and says nothing further until the song finishes. You both mimic the other, swaying to the music and gently singing along as you gaze at eachother.

"I should walk you home doll." Bucky says quietly once the song finishes. You feel a little light-headed and breathless, even though you'd only been swaying and you notice that Bucky's hands are still on your waist.

"O-okay." You swallow. If Soulmates didn't exist, you'd be kissing him right about now. "I know a short-cut."

"This," Bucky looked up as the wrought iron fence. "Is a short-cut?"

"Where's your sense of adventure?" You grin back at him as you crawl through a gap in the fence. "Come on Sarge, it's not far I promise."

Bucky sighs with a smile, pulling his dress pants up so they don't rip at the knees when he crawls through the gap after you. You take his hand and lead him blindly through the dark park, the both of you stumbling and giggling like teenagers, until you reach a dirtpath leading through a small thatch of trees to a clearing. The light of the moon illuminates the clearing into a sea of blue. Forget-me-nots are clustered together in one large group in the clearing; thousands upon thousands of tiny blue flowers that disappear to black when the moon vanishes again behind a cloud.

"Wow," Bucky breathes. "You've been holdin' out on me, doll. If I knew this was here, I'd have taken you on a romantic picnic instead of dancin'."

“Yeah, I could spend forever getting lost in those forget-me-not blues,” you sigh wistfully, looking over at Bucky's face.

“Well doll, forget me not.” He punctuates each word with a sad smile.

What should be a joyous moment filled with love, happiness and a rainbow of technicolour is soured by the harsh reality that Bucky wouldn't be staying in New York any longer. You shouldn't be too surprised, you knew he got drafted but you can see it in his eyes, the utter sadness of your situation. You can't even enjoy finding your soulmate in peace.

“You’ve got orders.” You can barely eke the words out of your closing throat.

Bucky nods, swallowing thickly and looking at your entwined hands. “Got my letter the other day. England."

You breathe out, long and slow, your nose becoming more blocked as more tears stream down your face and your throat burns with unvoiced sobs. It was unfair. So, so unfair.

“I could never forget you James Buchanan Barnes. Never.“ You say firmly, gazing over at him and squeezing his hand hard.

"I'll write to you everyday." He promises, squeezing your hand back. "I'll come back and visit every chance I can get until this war is over. And then-"

You cut him off with a quick kiss that doesn't even begin to convey how happy you are to have found him, trying to protect your heart from more hurt that undoubtedly will come.

"Save it for your letters," You tease softly, sniffing away tears. "I want something to look forward to while I wait."

Bucky grins and pecks your lips back. "You got it, doll."

You both stay on that log until the early hours, basking in each other's presence before Bucky was deployed to England the next afternoon. The voids left in your hearts when you separated were almost too much to bare but when you were safely home, and Bucky tucked away on a boat, you both immediately began to work on your letters to each other.

Being posted in England isn't too bad to begin with. In fact, Bucky thinks that his letters are too boring but he doesn't want to fill the letters with how much he misses you or how he wishes he could be with you instead; he knows you know it too, and it doesn't make it hurt any less.

When he's sent to Europe, suddenly those boring, mundane letters are a God-send. One of your letters contained a good Iuck charm, courtesy of your small slice of blue paradise ; a single pressed forger-me-not into a piece of card with a lipstick stain of your lips on the reverse. Bucky kept the piece in his left breast pocket, just over his heart, keeping the thought of you near wherever he went.

The first thing he does after Steve rescues him is write you.

He leaves out the details but tells you not to worry, he'll be home soon. Tell Mom and Rebecca not to worry too.

Days later, when he's lying in the snow bleeding from the Stump that was his left arm, he wonders if it was all worth it. Your lucky charm had disappeared somewhere during the fall and Bucky sobbed at the thought that not only had he lost his arm but a piece of you too. Delirious with blood loss, he imagined your face in the cold comfort of the snow, smiling playfully like you always did, kissing him so tenderly like you had on your date all those moons ago. He couldn't leave you without a soulmate.

Hearing approaching footsteps crunching in the snow, Bucky screamed for help, hoping, praying that it was Steve.

It wasn't.

Turns out, HYDRA don't like it when their science experiments escape and despite vowing to escape a second time once he's healed, it's nigh impossible. And not without consequence.

Bucky's vow quickly becomes to always remember you instead when he's strapped to the electric chair, biting on his tongue so hard he draws blood. The more his brain cooks in the chair, the more torture he's subjected to, the more your face blurs in his mind's eye. It kills him, little by little, knowing you're fading from his memory but he still tries to remember your face. He still hopes, dreams and thinks of you. Would you remember him? Would you recognise him if he returned from this hell on Earth?

What breaks him is not the twenty-seven long years of being thawed and unthawed, tortured and electrocuted. It's the one rainy day where his heart hurts so badly, he screams until he can't any longer. It's the day his blurred soulmate's face is torn from his soul and leaves him all alone in the cruellest, darkest place imaginable.

The premature death of Bucky Barnes' soulmate caused the birth of the Winter Soldier after twenty-seven gruelling years.

How could you suffer on knowing you would never see your one true love again? His brain and heart couldn't win out after that.

Present Day

Museums were Bucky’s favourite places to be on his days off. There was something comforting about the silence and the relics of human history, the evolution and study of animals, rocks and bones and the celebration of human artistry that wasn’t as overwhelming as the Internet. The Internet was faster, sure, but museums had everything in one neat place and no two museums were the same.

He and Steve had spent countless days of their childhood visiting the Natural History Museum and then when he'd finally broken away from HYDRA, he'd visited every museum he could find to learn about himself and the developments after the war that he'd missed.

Today, though, Bucky had decided to take a longer wander through the galleries. It was easy to walk through and ignore the paintings until something caught your eye but Bucky was insistent that he would stop at every painting today and perhaps try to see what Steve sees.

The galleries aren’t busy, as usual. A few old couples taking a wander through, a gaggle of tourists taking photos and an art student or two studying brush strokes of portraits. However, in a small alcove surrounded by paintings of flowers and woodland, sat a woman who looked entirely out of place.

It wasn't with what she was wearing or how she looked but something just didn't seem right. Bucky knew he should probably investigate but dammit it was his day off; he deserved some peace and quiet.

The woman is still there when he makes it to the alcove and the pull from his chest is unbearable now. He was wrong before when he'd thought that she didn't seem right; she was perfect. He couldn't remember when he'd last seen someone so beautiful that she looked like a rare painting come to life. Nervous didn't begin to describe the feelings swirling in his chest. There was an unfathomable joy coupled with anxiety and he wished he kept gum in his leather jacket right now.

“I could spend forever getting lost in those forget-me-not blues.” The woman sighs dreamily, gazing at the painting before her.

The hair on Bucky’s arm and neck stand on end, his heart rate sky rocketing. He’d heard that phrase before.

“What did you say?”

Bucky's caught off guard when she turns to look over at him, her eyes catching his for a small respite and he almost folds like a deck chair. The air is sucked out of Bucky’s lungs so quickly he can barely process it and he feels faint, no dizzy, from just looking at her properly. Her eyes are wide with surprise but there's a sliver of playfulness that hides within them and whatever ever was nagging at him earlier has now blossomed into a crackling hearth of building adoration that was vaguely familiar somehow.

Bucky's eyes drop to her neck, where a tiny blue flowers pendant sits on a delicate silver chain. It's delicate but sweet, an almost perfect compliment to her being.

“Oh! I’m sorry. Talking to myself.” The stranger gives him a sheepish smile and turns back to the painting. “Beautiful isn’t it?”

Bucky tears his eyes from her and looks at the painting; two blurred figures dancing amongst a sea of blue flowers, similar to the necklace she wears. The male figure is holding the female figure's hand as her dress billows and blends into the flowers. Although they don't have faces, it's clear these figures are happy and in love.

For some odd reason, Bucky feels a wave of melancholy. He can't place why when there's a stunning woman in front of him.

"Does it make you feel sad?" The woman asks suddenly. Bucky glances over to see that her expression has changed to one of longing.

"I... yeah. Even though-"

"-they look happy." She finishes, looking over with a wry smile. "Sorry, I shouldn't be so depressing to a stranger."

Bucky smiles and shifts on his feet. He wants to say something more, tell her that it's fine, but instead he dumbly states;

"I like your necklace."

He regrets it as soon as he says it and looks to his feet. Didn't this used to be easy? Hadn't he charmed women both as Bucky and the Winter Soldier?

"Oh! This?" She fiddles with the pendant between her thumb and fore finger, inspecting it gently. She doesn't seem bothered by the awkward compliment. "I just like forget-me-nots."

Forget-me-nots. Something in his mind flashes with recognition.

“Why forget-me-nots?” He asks suddenly.

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you like them?”

The woman pauses and scratches her face thoughtfully, as if trying to place when she began loving the tiny flower. "I… don’t know, actually. I just always have.”

She offers Bucky a shrug. “I guess they’re pretty? Teeny, tiny little things but the colour?” She gives Bucky an impressive smile but then it falters for a moment as she catches his eyes again, really looking at them this time. “Wow. Your eyes are some shade of blue.”

Bucky starts to smile wider. He feels like himself, how he used to be back in the 30s. Even though there's something about her that makes him suffer this almost recognition, like she’s a word stuck on the tip of his tongue, he can't deny the joy and warmth he feels in her presence and he can't help but want keep speaking with her.

“Thanks.” He clears his throat and tries for nonchalance. "Do you... come here often?"

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he cringes, scrunching his face with disgusted embarrassment. So much for feeling like himself. Was flirting always so hard?

"Ugh. Sorry that was.... oh God." Bucky runs a hand down his face as the woman laughs.

“It’s alright and to answer, no - I don't. Today I just, well, it sounds stupid. But today I just really wanted to come here. I usually just walk straight past but I’m glad I did.” The flirtatious smirk she gives Bucky makes his knees wobble and he has to shift his weight to hide it. "You probably already know why they’re called forget-me-nots.” Bucky says, opting to try to sound knowledgeable instead of cool. Maybe that would be a better play. He doesn't know what's gotten into him. He's usually calm and collected. However, his heart is beating so hard he's scared it may fall right out of his chest.

“I do but tell me anyway.”

Bucky’s lip twitch into a smirk and the woman pats the empty space next to her, shuffling over slightly to make space for Bucky. His knee knocks hers and he gives a quiet, embarrassed apology before clearing his throat to recite what he'd been told.

“They used to be given to soldiers going off to war by their lovers.” He says. “I don’t remember who told me but…”

He trails but the woman is transfixed on his face.

"Sorry." Bucky scrunches his nose and smiles. "I got lost for a moment."

"At least you came back." The woman smiles in return. She looks back towards the painting again. Bucky tells himself that it’s out of old observational habits that he watches her face; how her eyes look longingly at the dancing couple of the painting, the sweet curve of her lips as she smiles.

"Do you think they were soulmates?"

"I think they're two people who love each other." Bucky says cautiously and when the woman raises an eyebrow at him, he shrugs sheepishly, waving his left arm. "Sorry I... I don't have one. The writing must have been on my left arm and I can't remember what it said. I'm a little jaded, unfortunately."

She frowns and points to his arm. "Your arm looks fine to me."

Bucky snorts and smiles sheepishly at her. “It’s a…. um, prosthetic. I don’t have any words anywhere else so they had to have been on my left arm. I should have been clearer."

“Oh.” The woman's face turns fire-engine red with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry. That was so rude of me."

"Don't worry about it." Bucky shrugs it off with a chuckle before swiftly changing the subject. "What do you like about the painting?"

“I’d love to do that one day.” She says wistfully after a moment, nodding at the figures.

“Do what? Dance?” Bucky asks curiously, sensing an opportunity. “You can dance whenever you want. We can dance right here if you want, I’ll ask one of the guards for music.”

She laughs, no chuckle this time, a pure lilt of happiness that makes Bucky’s heart twist in his chest and he can’t help but smile a little wider. Flirting was a little bit like riding a bike, not that he’d been interested in flirting much since having his brain fried multiple times.

The woman glances over at him, biting back a smile and rolling her eyes playfully. “Riiiiiight. Sure."

"I mean it!" Bucky bolsters, hopping to his feet. "I-..."

He falters for a moment when he sees her grin; her challenge. Her eyes meet his, bright and sparkling. Whatever he feels he knows she feels it too. He offers his left arm to her, stiff and awkward as his face blooms red.

“Hi, my name’s Bucky and, if you’d be so kind as to let have this dance, I promise to make it worth your while.”

The woman snorts and laughs again but she takes hold of his gloved hand, rising to her feet.

"Y/N. And just one." Her tone is firm but her glittering eyes betray the same excitement he feels. "What about music?"

"Heard they have music on phones nowadays, doll." Bucky quips, his free hand reaching for his phone in his back pocket. He doesn't notices she's raised a curious brow.

"Doll? That's a new one."

"I - oh..." Bucky grins sheepishly but before he can apologise, she stops him with a smile.

"I like it. Vintage."

Now it's Bucky's turn to snort. Who needed soulmates anyhow?

"Speaking of vintage." Bucky hits play on Vera Lynn's remastered classic.

"We'll Meet Again." She murmurs as Bucky's hands ghost along her waist. "Good choice."

"Thanks. Is this okay?"

"You're barely touching me." She giggles, wrists crossing behind his neck.

"Hey, I gotta make sure. Just follow my lead."

Vera Lynne's voice echoes around the alcove drawing curious peeks from other museum-goers but both Bucky and the woman in his arms couldn't care less as they swayed to the music. Y/N followed Bucky's footsteps as he guided her around the room with practices ease, poking fun at her lightly when she'd step on his feet accidentally.

An image rears its head in Bucky's mind's eye. There's a park, somewhere, with hundreds of forget-me-nots but he can't place the timeline. Did he go there as the Winter Soldier? Did he go there during the war? Was it a passing visit on a mission? He knows he didn’t find it, someone showed him. Maybe Steve? Someone else? Did he see it once in a dream?

“You’re a good dancer.” Y/N whispers against his chest as the song draws to a close. Bucky is sure she can hear his heartbeat through his leather jacket now. “I don’t think I could ever forget this.”

“Well, doll... Forget me not.” He doesn’t know why he says it. It’s cheesy at best, terrible word play at worst.

But she halts, blinking up at him. The silence in the alcove is so loud a pin could drop.

“What did you just say?”

It’s like a veil has lifted. The air shifts, Bucky can feel it now. That joy he buried earlier rose from the soles of his feet all the way up to his head. He felt like he was walking on air. He can see her eyes widen, further and further until their the size of dinnerplates, and there, almost within the depths of her soul; there's the flicker of recognition.

It's a domino effect. Y/N's soul reaches for Bucky's as memories flood back; lifetimes of memories, experiences and pain binding their souls together in a dance that will last for eternity.

The kiss they share is nothing like their first one. It's longer, more patient, relishing the electric feel of each other's lips for what feel like eons. “James Buchanan Barnes,” You breathe, tears of happiness filling your eyes. “I knew I wouldn’t forget you. And I knew you’d come back.”

"It's you," He chuckles, still not quite believing his eyes. "It's really you."

That playful smile he'd grown to love all those decades ago makes a swift appearance on your face and reaches the lights of your eyes as you look up at him.

"Now, if I remember correctly, we have a few decades worth of catching up to do."

END

A/N1: Ready for the flower symbolism? None of this the roses were pink because they were pink roses bs

Forget-Me-Nots: were given to lovers when their gifter went away to war. Commonly associated with the phrase “Forget me not.” (Duh). But they are also representative of remembrance, memory, love, friendship, hope, and fidelity. Source here

The necklace is based on this one on Etsy that I adore

Pink roses: (The first rose Bucky picks up and you steal back) symbolise admiration, happiness and love.

White roses: (The second rose Bucky picks up and hands to you) represent Innocence, purity and loyalty. Bucky’s intentions are were true.

These also are used for fresh starts, so can also be used as Bucky “starting over” (like when he goofily re-introduces himself to you and in the modern day where his memory has been wiped).

A/N 2: Name of the Fic

Well, a multitude of reasons really.

1) forget-me-nots are hardy plants that always come back (hence why reader says it to Bucky). He has an awful habit of bouncing back bless him.

2) Bucky’s Eyes: Azure blue? But there’s something about little poetic in a forget-me-not Blue ;)

3) Blues: Bucky is a big fan of Jazz, and Blues although Blues came before jazz its debated heavily on whether it is a sub-genre of jazz or if its a genre all on its own. Blues songs tend to be romantic, sad and slow; which I think are key elements of Bucky and his story.

4) Their meaning: true love and faithfulness. Can’t have a romance without those right?

5) the utter irony of the fact that Bucky did actually completely forget her lmao

A/N 3: I heavily debated how to incorporate the words of the Soul Mark back into modern day. Originally I was going to leave it kinda open ended at the gallery because I couldn’t think of a way to get Bucky’s words in without them seeming forced. But when I was doing a third edit of this, I realised they could end up having a haphazard date; which ended up as a replay of the 40s just so their souls could greet eachother again in the same place bc I am nothing if not a romantic at heart. I ended up scrapping that in favour of the museum alcove and having them recreate their "first date" there with the paintings acting as the woodland this time because I was struggling with dialogue and bridging the two - but I think it turned out pretty romantic!!!

This was my first time writing a Soulmate AU and I quite enjoyed myself! But I would like some feedback, and obviously all comments are welcome! It’s not to say I’m not proud of my other work on here but this story has been brewing for months (and I’m actually really happy that it won the WIP poll).

I wholly appreciate any comments or asks on this work!! I don’t quite think I’m ready to let it go yet 🥹 so much so that even though there's not a part 2 in the works, there's another fic in the same AU I'm working on ;)

Taglist

Add yourself to my taglist here

@irishhappiness | @awkwardgiraffe726

[buck-up-buttercup]

So we all know how protective and possessive Caleb is. I want to write some head-canons on how he perceives and responds to people showing interest in MC (you) throughout the years.

As a child, Caleb had a fierce obligation towards protecting you from bullies. He even went so far as to lock you in an attic to prevent you from getting caught up in a fight with those twerps (reference Rain's Embrace). Especially with how fool-hardy you could be, he knew to keep you out of it completely. The bullies he mentions fending off would have been more than eager to play with a cute girl such as you. Caleb didn't like how rough they could be with you, obviously lacking respect towards a young girl who wanted to "run with the boys" as you so claimed. And of course, you only wanted to because Caleb could. But Caleb could handle himself and unfortunately, he couldn't juggle fending these kids off and keeping you unscathed in the mix of things. He needed to prove to these kids that he was not to be messed with and neither were you. That day, he made it doubly clear that no kid was to mess with you. He never fully explains to you the scuffle he went through to gain this sort of respect, but he won't ever forget learning to take advantage of his Evol to use against someone for the first time... and of course, that first time was for you. Everything he did was for you, somehow.

As a high-schooler, Caleb had many admirers and thus received many gifts and notes in school. You were always a little put off by it. You always thought Caleb was cute, but you didn't realize just how cute until his admirers showered him with attention. You also joked with him about being jealous that he received so many gifts on holidays from secret (or sometimes not-so-secret) admirers while you were left with none. He'd quickly play it off with a smile, claiming you could have all of his gifts if you wanted them since he had no interest in any of his admirers. Besides, he always provided you with the most thoughtful and personable gifts, so was it really so bad? Quality vs quantity, after all. He'd be sure that you would never know about him going behind your back to scare the life out of any teenage boy who so much as looked your way. One instance would have been in PE when the boys were having their typical "locker talk." Caleb wasn't one to join in on such conversations... until you were brought up one day. Some dumb boy would talk about checking you out and Caleb would immediately chime in, "keep her out of your filthy conversation. If I hear anyone say anything demeaning about her, they're going to regret it. Got it?" The boys would be wide eyed and agree not to speak about you. Even if there were some jocks involved, they knew better than to try to one-up someone with Caleb's stature. Not only was he a well-liked and high-achieving student, he was very athletic and a fairly large guy. Caleb also intercepted any guy who tried making a move on you. At one point, you had a sweet guy start to show a liking towards you. You expressed your disappointment to Caleb when this guy suddenly avoided you after his feelings were admitted to you. Caleb would just shrug his shoulders and say, "his loss, pipsqueak." Meanwhile, he'd secretly be proud of himself for scaring the poor guy off after Caleb posed a light-hearted threat at him. "So, you like her?" The guy would confirm and Caleb would nod thoughtfully before adding, "then you need to stop. She's not for you to have." He'd smile politely but his eyes would be sharp as daggers, "Kay?" The guy would take the hint real fast and run.

As a college student, Caleb has some good friends from the Aerospace Academy. One of the boys would say something about the "pretty girl in Caleb's photos" on his moment posts. Caleb wouldn't respond much to this, though he would say something if they followed your profile. "Don't be weird," he'd warn. When meeting you for the first time, they'd be chivalrous. Afterwards, they would definitely tease Caleb for not letting them have a chance with you. He'd roll his eyes at this but would definitely need to take his frustrations out later, whether it be through working out or diving into his schoolwork to distract himself. It bothers him that others see how precious and pretty you are. On the one hand, it makes him proud to know and be so close to such a beautiful and lovely person. On the other hand, he wished he lived in a world where it was just the two of you so no one else could come in between you. His anxieties would only heighten once he thought about the potential pursuers you had at your own college. His head hurt as much as his heart just thinking about it.

As a colonel, Caleb would have strong jealousy towards the multiple men in your life. When he finds out how close you've grown with Zayne after the explosion, he'd feel regretful. He wanted to be the one to comfort you, especially as he harbored the guilt of causing you such pain from disappearing and having you believe him dead. Once he learns about your partnership with Xavier and how he's neighbors with you, he'd feel annoyed. He wouldn't like how often you'd need to work with Xavier, and now you two could even walk home together or see each other at your own apartment complex whenever? Ugh. Frustrating. Rafayel would get on his nerves as well, making his temper flare up. Why do you even need to be around this famous artist? Especially one with a bounty. He would not like the messages he'd see on your phone from Rafayel. He'd contemplate blocking his number on your phone but didn't have a good enough excuse to... so he simmered with anger silently. Sylus is by far his least favorite person you're associated with, though. Being in cahoots with the leader of Onichynus only spelt out trouble in his mind. He would chastise you on the sort of company you keep. He'd be adamant about knowing your whereabouts and to never go into the N109 Zone without him knowing of your exact location and an itinerary of what you'd be doing and who you'd be seeing. This is only because you refused to have him escort you himself since this was "Hunter business" and you could handle yourself... which he highly doubted, but he knew better than to belittle you now that you were an adult and a capable Deepspace Hunter. At the end of the day, Caleb just wants you safe and the only way he can curb his anxieties is by keeping you under his watch and care as often as possible.

Though the man is endearing, he can be downright suffocating. But why wouldn't you want to drown in all the love and care he showers you under? MC doesn't always realize just how deep his love runs for her.

[renren-006]

being geta’s betrothed and catching lucius’ eye!

Amor Fati | Lucius Verus Aurelius

plot: high status fem reader (betrothed to Geta) x Lucius the boy who saw who she truly was

use of roman lingo/historical terms, angst, not entirely canon accurate, death and violence

translation of amor fati: love of fate

Word Count: 3923 Other Stories: Familer Eyes, Emporor Lucious, Doctors Magic

a/n: thank you so much for the request i was so excited to write this!! I did my best to also write a bit more "Roman"! Enjoy!

The sun beat down on the emperor's box. Only so much the velarium could do to prevent the sun's rays from entering the little room. You leaned forward in your seat, and closer and closer, you crept to the railing. You wanted to feel more of the sun; it was the only time of the day you were allowed outside the palace, and you wanted to enjoy every bit of it. 

Once the sun hit your face, a sigh escaped your lips, and the tension in your body fell. The warmth and heat of the sun made everything feel better. You knew Geta would scold you any minute for the act, but you could care less. 

Your imprisonment in the palace started a year ago when your father, an elite senate member, said you were to be married to the emperor. Apparently, the emperor was looking to the senate members for marriage offers; your father was the first and only one to stand with one. Your face fell at the memory of him coming home and telling you to pack your things and leave for the palace. You screamed yourself that night, fought every way to that place, and didn't even spare a glance at the emperor before you were shoved in your room with the door locked behind you. 

You sat back at the memory, wanting to leave it in the past. You couldn't change your fate, the one you were forced into. You had always hoped you wouldn't be one of the women thrown into an arranged marriage by their fathers, but here you were. While you and Emperor Geta were not married, you knew it was coming soon. A shaky breath left you at the thought. Geta was not a terrible man, but he wasn't a good one either. You could see his rage and ambition, and it scared you the way he ruled with it. 

You looked to your left and saw Geta sitting on his throne with a plastered smile. It was a wicked one. You shrunk away at the sight. You wished for nothing more than to be rid of him and this role. The more you ponder, the more you lose track of the world. It wasn't until Getas's voice spoke up next to you that you blinked back to reality.

“Why is that gladiator looking at…you” Geta said, casting an aggravated look down towards the pits. You turned your head towards the gladiator in question. You felt as if lightning struck you when you locked eyes with him. For that tiny moment, you felt as if all that mattered in the world was him. This brown-haired blue-eyed gladiator smirked at you, making your heart beat even faster. A slight blush crept up your cheeks. You looked away before anyone noticed and before the heat in your stomach could intensify. Geta eyed you suspiciously before returning to the games and seemingly forgetting about everything. You let out a slow breath that you didn't realize you had been holding. You often wondered how many times a day you forget to breathe when around Geta, always worried about being anything other than perfect. 

That night was filled with another lavish party, and you tried to keep a smile and content look on your face. You glanced towards the arches on the far side of the room that led out onto the streets of Rome. People passed through them as they entered the party, coming and going. You wished you were one of those people, able to come and go as pleased. You knew you had to wait till night when the empire slept before you could creep out onto the streets. The furthest you had made it in one night was past the gates, watching the sunrise over the hills towards the countryside. You were back in your room by sun up and complained of feeling ill to get out of leaving your room for the day. Those days when you could be yourself at night and explore were all you looked forward to.

As the night grew late and their parties died, you bid farewell and went to your room. You were overlooked as you left; the emperors were occupied with their own girls. Thoughts swarmed your mind. ‘this would not be how your night ended’, you wanted to see the gladiator that caught your eye. You stopped momentarily before a smile crept onto your face, another perfect outing. You slipped your way out of the palace and onto the streets of Rome. 

The Colosseum loomed ahead of you, drawing you in. You walked through its halls, which were quiet now in the late night hours. The only noise could be heard from the Ludus, where the gladiators lived. You walked inside, the cloak around your neck and head protecting you slightly. The men eyed you curiously, some recognizing you from the emperor's box. Ravi, the gladiator's doctor, walked over to you. 

“I see your adventures have taken you here,” he said lightly. Ravi was one of the few men you had come across on your nightly walks that were kind and enjoyable to converse with. You nodded your head at the man.

“After much pleading from you and the electrifying eyes of a gladiator, I was drawn here,” you told him honestly. Your voice steady as you spoke to him

“Someone catch your eye,” Ravi said, laughing a little. He motioned you to follow him as he showed you towards their dining area. “Not much longer will they be here.” Many gladiators were still enjoying the company of others while eating the rest of their final meals of the day. You glanced around the room, waiting for him to catch your eye. You glanced out twords the training grounds in search of him. There he was, training for his next day in the arena. You walked over to the walkway's edge, carefully watching from afar. When he heard your feet as they drew closer, he glanced behind him. His eyes met yours, and the same electrifying feeling was sent through your body. The man dropped his sword and marched over to you.

“Noble women should not be down here,” he told you, eyeing you up and down. His hands reached out and threaded through some of the fabric of your dress. “Or did you come here to boast about your position”

“I am not one to boast,” you told him. His eyes were finally brought back up to meet yours. “I am only here to…meet you.” The sweetness in your voice dripped like honey, drawing him in like a bee. The man before you could practically taste the sweetness of your voice. 

“Hmm,” he hummed. “I am not interesting, my lady,” he said with a deep accent. It made your knees feel weak hearing it from his lips. You both stood in each other's presence, neither wanting to move or break the moment. 

“What is your prenomen?” you asked the gladiator before you. He glanced down before returning his gaze to your face. 

“Hanno,” he said, “my lady”

“I do not need the formality,” you told him, “y/n will do.”

“y/n.” It rolled off his lips with ease and sensuality that you almost felt yourself lose composure. Hanno was nothing like the man you had known or knew; he was something else entirely. “The guards call for me now, I must leave you.”

“I will pray for you tomorrow.” Eagerness filled your voice with the promise. 

“I do not need your god's help,” Hanno's words hung in the air, “your presents is enough.” with a sweet smile, he left twords his cell. You could tell he held a lot on his shoulders. 

As the night turned to day, golden rays warmed the earth. You rose from your bed, the night's events playing in your head still. A smile played on your lips at the thought of seeing your gladiator fight. You waited for your gladiator to file into the arena. As he did, a small smile played on your lips. 

“Minerva, let his sword be true,” you whispered. The wind picked up momentarily, brushing past Hanno; they heard your prayer. He fought true and won his battle, Rome was pleased by his winning. Hanno looked up at the emperor's box and smiled at you before showing his sword. He was showing you his praise, the rest of the box saw this as an act of respect for the emporos. You knew it was only for you.

You simply watched Hanno behind shadows as he trained for the next few days. He knew you were there, but no words could leave your lips around him. Your heart hammed in your chest as you watched him train, or fight.  Your growing infatuation was making your life complicated. 

Geta strolled into the palace library, seeking to find you. You sat in the far corner, immersed in a book.

“My beloved,” he said, a smile on his face. “Why have you abandoned your duties” “Geta… ”you signed; this was a conversation you did not know how to have. “I…” “Answer me,” the emperor before you commanded you, not the man you knew he shielded himself from. 

“I had a moment of weakness not fulfilling those duties.” you told him smoothly, “I shall resume them.” “Good. As the woman I am to marry, you must show me you are loyal.” “As you wish. My Geta,” you told him. He smiled before he kissed your cheek and left the library. The breath you held was released, and you let the book in your hands fall to the floor. Tears fell from your eyes again. Geta was never cruel, but his words cut deep to you like a knife. Those words of duty and obligation stung like a bee. You were haunted by the duty and life that was forced upon you, something inside you wished to flee. Your maid rushed to your side, plying your hands from your face to wipe the tears that fell.

“Shhh, mistress,” she whispered, “you must not cry in these halls, ears and eyes everywhere.” You wanted only to be held but knew the status between you and the older woman before you forbade it. She held your hand at the sad and pleading look in your eyes for some motherly support. 

“I…do not want this role,” you whispered.

“I know, miss. I know. You must please the emperor, or he will punish you,” she told you, “I see him punished. Cruel man.” A small cry fell from your lips; the idea of seeing who he is beyond the Geta you have seen scared you. 

Those next few days, you did as asked and never left Geta’s side. You made your smile look like jewels to Geta and the others in his company. You did everything right, making Geta lose his interest in seeing your complacency. As the days turned to weeks he slowly lost his interest in you, your complacency, no signs of love, he turned back to his women he had hanging off his throne. 

It was not until a few days later that you visited Hanno in Ludus. You slipped into his cell. He turned from the wall he faced to find you lifting your head to meet his eyes. 

“You are back,” he said, walking over. 

“Yes,” you were firm in your answer before you deflated. “I needed to escape.” 

“Escape? From where?” he asked, motioning for you to sit in the small bed he had been given. You shook your head, not ready to tell him of the life you know others would grab for. 

“Why did you look at me that way in the arena?” You asked him. He glanced up at you. 

“You should not ask that,” he said softly. 

“I will ask. Hanno, I need to know,” you told him, almost pleading with the man before you to tell you why he had a slight look of love and familiarity in his eyes. 

“Your eyes. Your smile. Reminded me of my wife who passed,” he told you, interrupting your voice. “I felt a connection, and I wanted to…I wanted to be with you, see what it was”

“I am sorry about your wife” you said in response. “I too...wanted to be with you”

“You have the emperor.” his voice was still tired as he spoke. Reminding the both of you of the obligations you were given. 

“I do not love him. I do not wish to be with him,” you told him 

“Then why are you?” he asked, curious about your life. 

“Not my wish. My father sold me to him…I fought that night to not go,” you told him, words turning from anger to sadness. Hanno's hand landed on your knee. The callouses felt good against your soft skin. Your eyes met his. 

“We are both here not of our own will,” he told you, filling your soul with understanding. You sat with Hanno for a while before bidding on your goodbyes. You looked back at him when you left; love looked back. 

The next time you visit was when Hanno sat outside on the training grounds. You watched the sun sink lower and lower into the horizon.

 “Why do you keep visiting me?” you glanced back twords the man beside you. Those tired eyes filled with more life as the moments passed. 

“You see me,” you told him, “no…obligations are required when i am with yo.u”

“What else?” he asked, knowing there was more behind your words. 

“You are the only one to see me, truly see me,” you told him, “not as some senator's daughter or the emperor betrothed…I do not have to be perfect when I am with you, I can just be”

“You are simply y/n,” he told you, “you are yourself; you are not defined by your father or your position.” “I wish that to be so,” you said sadly. The weight of your life and position felt like the most significant challenge you had. You knew he understood; you could feel your souls connecting more and more. 

“I escaped my position long ago,” he said quietly, “I fear after returning to Rome, I must soon take that position again.”

“May I ask what position?”

“In time,” he told you, smiling sadly. You nodded, understanding the desire to hide parts of himself. To be seen was intimate, and he was not yet there. You placed a hand on top of his, causing his eyes to lift to yours.

“I am here whenever you wish to tell me more…But I must go before I am looked for” you told him. You stood, still holding his hand, he turned it to grasp yours. He smiled a sad tired smile. You nodded your head as a bid goodbye and left his side. The walk back to your prison had never felt so cold and lonely before. 

It was days beofre you went back, knowing your visits were drawing more eyes on you than you intended to. This may have to be your last one for quite some time. As you walked to meet with Hanno, he grasped your hand. 

“What is wrong,” you asked him. Tired, scared, and anxious eyes looked at you.

“You should not have come.” “What? Why?” you asked worried

“There is…a plan happening, and your being here will put you in danger.” “Hanno. What plan?” you glanced behind you twords the other cells and guards.

“Remember I told you I left my position here in Rome,” he said, causing your eyes to lock back in with his. He has his hands on your arms, keeping your attention on him. “I do.” In your response, you looked into his blue eyes hesitantly.

“This position…was the prince of Rome. My name, my true name is Lucious Verus Aurelius.” “You…Lucious?” you asked he smiled something unique. Recognition with his name when it came from your lips, like that name was meant to be spoken by you. 

“Yes. Y/n” “I cannot believe it”

The night was spent with him retelling his history to you and the stories he lobed in the colonies across the Mediterranean. He spoke of the people, their beliefs, and the difference between there and Rome. The world beyond Rome's white marble sounded divine.  You were swept up in his stories, his eyes, and the lips that kissed you before you left the cell.

“Lucious” “Promise you will keep yourself safe,” he asked of you, forehead on yours. Red lips speaking to you.

“As safe as I can be,” you told him, knowing that the gods would only decide your fate. Another kiss from the man-made your world spin again. As you left, a smile played on your lips back to your gloomy home.  

“Where have you been my betrothed?” Geta asked you as he came walking down twords you. He plucked the book from your hand, causing you to face Geta. 

“I have been here,” you told him. His eyes track your every move. He kept looking at you, disappointment was evident.

“You lie to me. Your emperor,” he told you, a scrolling voice filled the library. Your maid backed away further into the room. 

“I…” you stuttered, unable to find your voice for a reason. 

“You think it does not know about the escapades you partake in?” Geta asked you gesturing to the world outside of the palace. Your head hung low. Worry filled your head, scared he may be the man everyone fears he is. Cruel and unkind. 

“I shall show you why you do not mess with me,” he said. He took your arm in his hands and dragged you away. You looked back as you were pulled away from the library; your maid wept at your leaving. As you looked forward, tears slowly fell from your eyes. That moment you knew would come of your desire to be outside the palace had come. 

You walked out onto the emperor's box landing. There you stood, chained and beaten. Tiny droplets of blood had dried in the corner of your mouth, your cheeks were bruised, and your hair had seen better days. There were minor cuts and bruises along your arms that were not covered by the dress you were strapped in. Once in the stands, the people around you could see. You glanced down at the pits, knowing that when Lucious came out of those wooden gates and saw you, he may try to do something he shouldn't. The crowd grew loud in the stands, many not knowing why they stood in chains.  As those mighty doors opened and Lucious stepped out you wished to scream to him to run. A whimper escaped you when he faced you, the other gladiators entering faded into the background. You watched his face contort with anger; your eyes pleaded with him not to do anything.

“Is this what Roman emperors do? Is this how they treat their women?” he yelled out. 

“It is what we do with women who are unfaithful,” Geta responded, a coolness about his tone and words. You were pulled towards him, crashing into his body. He held your arms and chains tight in his hands. You wanted to cry, scream, and beg someone to set you free. “We must show them that whoever they choose to be with instead of their betrothed…must be killed”.

“No…no, please,” you whispered, begging around the cuff of your neck. You tried to turn to Geta to beg him to not hurt Lucious, but when you looked, your throat closed. He was looking at Lucious, already figuring out what man you had been seeing. The viscous nature of Geta, which you had heard so much about, was finally presented to you. You looked back twords Lucious, those tears you tried your best to hide slowly fell down your cheeks. 

If only you could know how Lucious felt in that moment, watching you be made a villain by the emperor, watching you chained and without freedom. He felt what you felt, every last emotion.

Geta pulled at the chains around your neck to take your eyes off Lucious. Tears now streamed down your face. “You would rather a gladiator, a slave, than me”, he screamed. His face is red with anger, and he looked at you. 

“Yes,” you responded, eyes moving to try and look twords your gladiator. There, Lucious stood proudly watching you as you told the man who had taken you from your home and told you were to marry him without any freedom that you had your freedom to love. Lucious moved closer to the box.

“You should let her go,” Lucious said, “You do not own her.” Many in the crowd started cheering for him, their favorite gladiator. Geta looked stunned by the words leaving Lucious mouth. He looked at the crowd, which was turning into a mob of people yelling twords the emperor to let you go free. The archers around the walls turned onto the people, unsure what to do. Geta himself looked clueless. 

“I am your emperor,” he shouted, “my words and actions are permitted by the gods.” “Maybe your gods, but not mine,” Lucious yelled, angling his sword to be thrown twords the box. As he looked into your eyes, you saw the sea's calm. You released all tension in your limbs and focused just on him. 

Everything changed, however, when General Acacious stormed into the Colosseum with his army. It was as Lucious had said; his family had planned something. The entire might of General Acacius' army stood in the Coliseum, and the emperors looked down in horror. Geta was now lost more, and it looked like he wanted to run. That's when the gladiators in the arena charged twords the emperor's army. No one was allowed to choose a side or talk before fighting erupted. Geta let your chains go; the weight pulled you down a little. You picked them up, allowing you to see the chaos around you. With all the men and swords, you lost sight of Lucious. Before long, one of the guards aimed a sword at you, and you looked at him wide-eyed. Before he could do anything to you, a sword burst from his chest; the guard looked down in shock before he collapsed. Lucious stood behind the man, proud and angry. The day's emotions caught up to you, and you collapsed into his arms. 

“It's alright now,” he spoke to you. The clashing of swords and loud voices filled the space around you. “I am here now.” You looked up into his eyes; a small smile danced on his face.“What has got you so happy?” “You. Saving you and being able to do that…”You could tell that he was finally able to save someone, someone special, and healed something inside of himself. He smiled at you, bright and happy. Freedom never looked so good, especially since freedom meant being with Lucious. As the fight continued in the arena, neither of you were concerned.

[theadhddimsenion]

You know something I find ironic about stella defenders and vivis critics? They love to talk a lot of shit about how bad vivi supposedly is at representing male victims of abuse all while defending and regurgitating arguments that are used to condemn and vilify male victims and defended his abuser!!!!

"Cheating is bad!! So stolas is bad!! And they just want to silence us into thinking that this is ok!!!!" No you brain dead peon! Cheating isn't always universally bad especially when it's been on someone who has done nothing but abuse them and actively talked shit about their performance as a way of disrespecting them!! And let's be very clear the only reason stella was upset is because it was an imp and stolas had finally gotten the Courage to stand up to her!!! And let's not forget that stella had been treating him like crap for years before this happened!

"He's a bad father!!" No he's not he's a struggling father. Neither he nor his daughter are bad people and neither of them deserved to be in the situation they were in. Should he have paid more attention to octiava yes. Is he a bad person and never cared about her because he didn't? Fuck no!! He messed up and he suffered the consequences and is trying to learn to better what more can you honestly ask if someone!?

"He's shouldn't have saved blitz because that showed octativa he was willing to die without caring about her!" Bull. Fucking. Shit!!!! How the fuck was he supposed to make a life or death descion and think about every possible situation this could result in when he had about 12 seconds to make sure the love of his life's head didn't go fucking choppy choppy!!!

"He's a coercive rapist reeeeee!!!" Look pal that agurment relies on a lot if's when it comes to bltizs ability to find a alternative means of getting to the human world so this argument is flimsy and relies on circumstances and speculation at best and is outright bullshit at worst. Even if this so called argument had any real validity then it should be clear to anyone with any brain power whatsoever that stolas never meant to coerce anyone!

"He is evil blueblood and deserves the guillotine" no stolas is as bout as much of a noble prick as a thumbtack and he had never once intentionally looked down on anyone and when he did it was never hateful it was simply out of ignorance unlike his wife who you constantly defend!

"Stella was made evil to justify his actions!" No you fools she was clearly always going to be a villain and contrary to what your pitiful Brains think females don't need to be sympathic or even competent and vivi isn't sexist for writing stella this way and for what it's worth I think stella serves her role quite well.