#was looking for new love notes and found this

[vrystalius]

hiii there, i was wondering if we please get some more recruiter/salesman cutesy stuff?? you’re such a good writer (love your work) and we do NOT have enough fics of him being an enamoured wife guy on this app. thank you <3 😔

Secret Love Notes.

You keep slipping small love notes into all his pockets and suitcases to remind him that his wife loves him no matter what.

Pairing: Recruiter/Gong Yoo x wife!reader

Summary: You leave small love notes all over for him to find and he cherishes every single one of them.

Words: 0.7k, short and sweet!

Genre: fluff <33

Your husband never admits it out loud to you, but he notices how you slip little love notes into his pocket when folding up the laundry or when packing him a bento box. They have cute little encouragements and affirmations written on them along with some doodles of you two together, holding hands, kissing and whatnot.

You think you’re being sneaky by crouching a little when approaching his coat hung up by the entrance, stuffing a small folded note into his chest pocket.

Whenever he is about to go out the door, you hand him his leather suitcase and a colourful bento box you packed for him. Once you found out Gong Yo only plain loaves of bread or sometimes even nothing at all, you always insisted on packing some food for him so your poor husband can eat something home cooked every day.

Even if the box doesn’t match his aesthetics, he savours every bite and would never shy away from letting out a loud hum of content.

Gong Yoo sat comfortably on a wooden bench by the metro station, well aware of the two mobsters following him the whole day, but who cares?

He leisurely opened up the bento box. His face brightened up at the sight of another small love letter presented to him.

“Keep it up! You’re going great ♡ Your wife loves you ~ ☆ “

Accompanied by your sweet words was a chibi doodle of you doing a heart with your index finger and thumb and him as a chibi too, holding a pair of chopsticks and giving you a wink. He chuckled quietly to himself and folded the note to keep it in his pocket by his heart.

Once, after successfully recruiting a new player, Gong Yoo handed the confused and wounded man your love note with a confident smirk. That man was lucky to have escaped the games but was kind of confused on why a handsome looking salesman gave him a love letter that reminded him to “stay hydrated!! ☆ (drinking coffee doesn’t count >:( )”

He tries to leave behind as many love notes as you lovingly prepare for him, but his doodles were kind of wonky and presented you in a rather disturbing light.

Sticking to his trusty craft of origami your husband instead began leaving small paper roses for you to find as a way to leave his own love messages.

A paper rose in the fridge, in the pocket of your jacket, in your bag and on your pillow; they change colours based on the day too. Blue and red are the most frequent and popular ones though for some reason. Probably because those are the only kinds of coloured paper he owns.

After every day you leave letters behind for him, Gong Yoo always tries to come home on time to properly thank you for them. Pampering you is his favourite activity, meaning you get banned from the kitchen and forcibly made comfortable on your bed or couch with cushions and blankets to keep you warm and cozy.

To return the favour of you preparing bento for him, he’ll cook you a fine dinner that could rival that of high-end restaurants. Afterwards, he’ll make himself comfortable right next to you to plant well deserved kisses all over your face and body and let his hand travel over your body freely, tracing invisible patterns.

A man like him should not be holding a woman like you, that’s what he’s always thinking. You are way too good for him, too gentle, kind, loving, too much of everything good.

“I love you. More than letters or silly paper roses can convey. Allow me to demonstrate just how much I love my wife, hmm?”

💠

Author’s note. Thank you for reading!

The amount of smut and non-con about this man is INSANE, I just need to live my silly life as a wife with him where we snuggle on the couch like a boring cuddle every night and then go to sleep while he read a book and I knit like grandparents 🫶😭 Anyways, hope you enjoyed it anon!!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <33

[acottonsocksims2]

ACottonSock's Sims 2 Mods Masterlist (Part 2)

The second part to my Sims 2 mod masterlist. NOTE: I use Ultimate Collection. Some mods may not work if you use Legacy Edition. Specifically, I know CJH Community Time DOES NOT work (at the moment) on Legacy. Last Updated: 2/3/25 - Sims 2 RPC LITE now available for Legacy Patch! Text changed to reflect this.

PART 1 | PART 2

Occult (Bigfoot, Werewolf) Mods

Bigfoot Romance: An edited version of the original Bigfoot romance mod that allows Bigfoot to fall in love with regular Sims, as well as have babies. You only need this mod, not the original as well.

Bigfoot Defaults - Eye Love: Default eye replacements for the legend, Bigfoot.

Bigfoot gets sewing/pottery badges: Makes spawned Bigfeet start with gold badges in pottery and sewing, just like naturally made ones.

Familial Bigfoot: Lets you have Bigfeet of all ages and both genders. MAKE SURE TO CHECK YOUR LOAD ORDER LISTED ON THE POST, AS THIS MOD HAS SEVERAL CONFLICTS.

Werewolf Personality: Rather than continuously changing personality forever, giving all werewolves the same personality, this mod changes personality only through the first 20 transformations.

Creature Fixes: Fixes for all of the supernatural and assorted creatures from the base game to AL.

Hereditary Supernaturalism: Occult status can now be inherited from parent to child.

No Alien Sexism: Allows both female and male abductees to get pregnant from alien probing.

New Pollination Technician: Changes what the alien pollination technician replacement looks like.

Bigfoot Semester Changes: Makes Semester Changes (under the 'College Mods' section) work with Bigfoot. MUST load after Cyjon’s mod AND after the Bigfoot mods.

Manipulator "Controller" Mods

Lamare LTW Chooser: Allows you to freely choose a Sim's lifetime wish without being restricted to the ones available just for their aspiration.

FFS Debugger: Provides options to fix several bugs, glitches, and other issues. Tons and tons of debugging options.

Auto Saver: Creates a dialog that pops up asking if you wish to save your game.

Bathroom Uses YOU!: Adds a toilet paper roll (with a hammer and sickle) that helps with bathroom door clogs. Has a nice feature that ejects a Sim immediately once they have done their business. Here's more recolors.

Cyjon's Debugger: A general purpose object, meant to compliment items like Pescado's batbox. Can be found in Buy Mode under Miscellaneous/Miscellaneous as the pizza box.

Sim Blender: The ultimate Sim management “God” mod.

Sim Manipulator: I use it for the ability to instantly change clothes to a different outfit or plan outfits by clicking on a Sim, and to make non-playable Sims easily selectable, but it has MANY more options.

Visitor Controller: Control which Sims are allowed to visit certain lots. Ban Sim from lots based on gender, aspiration, career, gender preference, and many other characteristics. Also allows you to ban Crumplebottom, Unsavory Charlatan and other annoying NPCs.

Sims 2 RPC: A custom Sims 2 Launcher with quality of life changes, firstborn syndrome fix, better graphics and more! USE THIS LITE VERSION IF YOU HAVE LEGACY EDITION.

College Mods

No College Time Progression On Community Lots: Prevents the college timer from progressing on community college lots and allows it to progress on all residential lots.

There Can Be Only One (Professor): Game will generate one rather than two professors for each major. Gender will be random.

Stinky Dormie Fix: Will stop dormies from doing an assignment when what they really need is a shower.

Young Adult Walk Fix: Fixes the Young Adult walk style so they walk normally. Fixes the Lazy sim idle animations to remove the gorilla slouch as well as the 'slow spin' clothes changing routine.

Later Classes: Moves all morning university classes later in the day so no class starts before noon.

Semester Changes: Substantially changes how the university works so it is more bearable and closer to being on the same schedule as the rest of the sims in your game.

Revised Majors: All the university majors have been revised so that they are actually relevant to careers.

Young Adults Can Enjoy Maternity (and all that): Umbrella category mod that includes: aging at university, pregnancy at university, alien pregnancy at university, adopting at university, school buses at university, and a fix for the University Greek houses. MUST HAVE MATERNITY CLOTHES FOR YA

Smarter choice of parent for entering college cinematic: Unmodded, the game always chooses the sim with the lowest neighbor ID to be in the cinematic. This fixes it so it's relationship based instead of Sim ID based.

Aging Mods

Custom Age Span: Links to PleasantSims' fantastic video on how to setup a custom agespan. My agespan goes as follows: Baby - 2 Days, Toddler - 4 Days, Child - 8 Days, Teen - 10 Days, Adult - 45 Days. Everything else is left at default.

Age Up at Midnight: Ages Sim up at midnight instead of 6pm. !! DO NOT USE THIS MOD IF YOU USE A CUSTOM AGE SPAN (ABOVE) !! Instead, you can edit the ijAgecons.package according to the description on this MTS post.

NPC Aging: NPC Sims on the active lot will age up one day at 6:00 PM, but only if they are ON the active lot. Does not impact playables.

Smart Age Correct: Corrects ages in 'hood to go along with your own custom agespan.

Career Mods

Jobs in Uni For All: Jobs on campus for Sims and pets.

Choose Career Type: Allows you to choose between part-time work or full-time work.

Young Adults Want and Fear Work: Young adults can have wishes and fears about work: find a job, go to work, get a promotion, etc.

Part & full time careers mutually satisfy wants: Getting a part-time job satisfies a want to get a full-time job in a corresponding career and vice versa.

Business Runs YOU!: Automates a lot of Sims 2 business processes, including: managing the employees, making them take breaks automatically, giving them reasonable wages automatically, so that your sims can spend time actually running their business instead of micromanaging the dumb employees so they don’t ragequit. Here's the invisible recolor for the hammer and sickle.

Professional Blogger: Sims can make money from blogging on the computer.

Job Level Labels: With this mod you can quickly see what level your Sim is in their career. In addition the number shows up when you are job searching.

Fixes

Anti-Redundancy: Eliminates spawning of unnecessary, redundant NPCs. Should only spawn one per type, more only if needed because the first is unavailable.

Child Computer Chat: The computer chat menu displays two submenus: Child (all the children online) and Adult (teens, adults and elders online). Access to the separate chat rooms is no longer restricted by the age of the user.

Coffee Cup Hack: Sims will no longer walk a mile to find a surface to place down their coffee cups. If no surface is nearby, they will just drop it.

Sims 2 Wants Tree Fix: Replaces the vanilla wants to allow Sims to roll for the broken EAxis divorce want. MAKE SURE TO PUT IN TSDATA/RES/WANTS FOLDER!!

Day Setter: Vase to change the day of the week it is. I use to sync rotations between households if something gets out of whack. Found under Misc/Misc.

Seasons and Weather Controller: Allows you to change the length of the seasons, but also has other season and weather-related uses.

Age Transition - Teens Keep Loves: Stops teens from losing their crushes/loves when age transitioning to adult/YA.

Apartment Life Fixes: Fixes a ton of Apartment Life related bugs.

Apartment Life UI Text Fonts Fix: Fixes UI text fonts issues brought on by AL.

Baby Wants Fix: Having a baby will also satisfy the Adopt a child want, if it is present. Vice versa, adopting a child (any age) will also satisfy the have a baby want.

Caged Pets Fixes: Fixed random bird death bug and other annoyances and bugs related to the birds and womrats.

Talk More, Eat Less: This hack will bypass the conversation if the Sim is in desperation for energy, hunger, fun or bladder, or is in a bad mood. Sims with maxed social will talk less.

Apology Fury Fix: Apology will reduce furiousness, as it was originally supposed to. Requires Smarter EP Check.

Call NPCs: Reverts a "fix" made in FreeTime that prevents sims from calling almost all NPCs.

Relationship Decay Fix:  Fixes bug which causes game to error out when calculating the 4 pm relationship decay on very large families.

More Sleep: Players can direct sims to sleep at night, even if the sim is not tired.

Townie Apartment Residents: Apartment neighbors and roommates will be chosen from the townie pool rather than social groups.

Trim Inaccessible Bushes: Allows sims to trim bushes even if they can't reach them.

Community Lot Skilling: Controlled sims, NPCs, and townies may gain skills while visiting community lots, including non-college community lots.

Creativity Gain Enabled For Blogging & Diary: This mod allows sims to gain creativity skill while blogging/writing in their diary.

No Pet Job Wants: Disables the pets job wants.

Water Incessible Flowers: Allows you to water all flowers regardless of their location on the lot, including completely inaccessible or blocked ones.

Don't Wave At Me: Stops the turn, face camera, wave at you obnoxious thing when things go wrong.

Engagement Memory Fix: Fixes a bug that can cause a sim to get the wrong (bad/good) type of engagement memory.

Find A Mate Crystal Ball: Summon the power of the Gypsy's crystal ball, without having to deal with the old bat. Tell the ball what type of sim you are looking for and get a choice of the 5 matching sims in the hood that have the highest chemistry.

Finicky Pet Fix: Fixes a bug which causes finicky pets to refuse to eat from a food bowl until they are near starving to death.

Front Door Hack: Delivery persons should no longer be drawn to the inaccessible door. Garage doors are not considered front doors regardless of level.

Met New Great-Grandchild Memory: Sims will get a custom memory when they have great-grandchildren, similar to the one they get when they have grandchildren

Random Stereo Station: A mod that makes newly bought stereos choose a random station when being turned on for the first time instead of always choosing salsa.

Secondary Aspiration Attraction: Adjusts the attraction score between two Sims by taking into account their secondary aspirations.

Business Having No Customers Fix: Fixes an error concerning Sims 2 businesses and customers not showing up. SCROLL DOWN TO POST #7 TO FIND DOWNLOAD.

Waiter NPC Outfit Fix: If a waiter/waitress has body type #2, their outfit will no longer glitch.

No Mr. Humble: Makes Humble Computer buyable. Gets rid of the actual Rod Humble visitation.

No Stray Respawn: Prevents strays from respawning. Stray animal population will only grow or shrink as a result of your actions.

Sim Shadow Fix: Fixes blocks under Sims feet from outdated graphics.

Watch TV from all chairs: Edits the angle and distance at which a Sim can watch TV.

Woohoo Count Fix: Fixes a problem with woohoo count. If a Sim has woohooed with the same sim multiple times in different types of woohoo, the game will now consider that as having woohooed with only one sim.

Woohoo LTW Fix: Stops the woohoo LTW from disappearing after being achieved.

Date/Outing Stood Up Fix: This mod fixes the broken timer behavior for standing dates/outings up.

Sim Transparency Fix: This mod will prevent Sims from randomly getting broken transparency.

Gardener Invasion Fix: Fixes a serious bug that occurred when a gardener couldn't get out of a car. The game will no longer create an infinite number of gardeners who will invade your house and bloating your game files.

Adult/Elder Tent Woohoo Fix: EAxis messed up and made it so adults could only woohoo with other adults in tents, and elders with other elders. Now adults and elders can woohoo each other in tents if the other requirements are met.

Same Sex Marriage: Replaces 'joined' to be 'married' for sex same couples.

No Corrupt Death: Suppresses the corrupt death memory.

No Sim Loaded: Removes the “Sim Loaded” token and others every time you load a lot, preventing lag, and also prevents and fixes the Super Duper Hug Bug. 

No Unlinkage On Urnstone Delete: Game no longer partially destroys sim file on deletion of tombstone. May resolve potential random tombstone losses when moving tombstones to community lots resulting from shredded character files produced by unlinkage.

Outdoor Lights All Night: Outdoor lights will stay on until 7 am rather than 2 am.

Smarter Chair Selection: Sims are smarter about choosing where to sit during activities like reading and eating pizza.

Smarter EP Check: Creates a new, more robust and accurate Expansion Pack and Stuff Pack check.

Smarter Privacy: Sims are smarter about bathroom and woohoo privacy, ignoring unshooable or irrelevant sims.

Fix subhood selection: These mods will allow you to select from a list of downtowns and shopping districts, by removing the large button which prevents the display of the entire list.

Townie Budget Mod: Townies can no longer buy items they can’t afford at businesses, eat at restaurants if they have no money, etc.

Walkbys Behave: Makes the Sims walking by stop being annoying (ie. stop stealing newspaper, kicking over trash, etc.).

[littlelamy]

Hii! I love your writing. Do you think you could write one where Rafe is a single father of a 4-year-old son and he meets a reader, and then they start a relationship and she meets his son and well, they start being a family? I'd love something like that, thank youuuuu

lamy's note: sorry that this is so late! i hope you like it <3

rafe cameron’s life revolved around his four-year-old son, oliver. The little boy was his entire world, a bright spot in the sometimes chaotic life of a single father. mornings were a blur of packing lunches and tying shoelaces, evenings a mix of storytime and sleepy cuddles. it was a rhythm rafe had gotten used to, even if it left little time for himself.

one rainy afternoon, rafe and oliver ducked into a cozy little café to escape the downpour. oliver clutched his favorite dinosaur toy, his small hand wrapped tightly around rafe's fingers. the warm atmosphere welcomed them, the smell of fresh coffee and pastries wrapping around them like a comforting hug. they found a table near the window, where oliver could watch the raindrops race down the glass.

as rafe settled into his seat, his eyes drifted across the room and landed on you. you were seated a few tables away, engrossed in a book, your fingers playing absently with your hair. there was something about you—maybe the peaceful way you seemed lost in your own world—that caught his attention. it had been a long time since he had felt that pull, the quiet intrigue of wanting to know someone.

oliver’s voice pulled him back. "daddy, can I have a cookie?"

"after lunch, buddy," rafe replied, ruffling his son’s hair. "let’s get something to eat first."

when the barista brought their sandwiches and a small cookie for oliver, rafe took the chance to glance your way again. to his surprise, you were looking back, a soft smile on your lips. it was enough to stir something inside him, a quiet encouragement to make a move he hadn’t considered in a long while.

gathering his nerve, rafe stood and walked over to your table, oliver trailing behind him. “hi,” he said, his voice warm but a bit unsure. “do you mind if we sit here? my son has a lot to say about dinosaurs, and i’d love a little adult conversation.”

your smile widened as you nodded. “of course. I could use some dinosaur facts myself.”

as rafe and oliver settled into seats across from you, the conversation flowed easily. rafe learned that you were new in town, working as a teacher at the local elementary school. you asked about his work and how he managed to juggle everything as a single parent. there was a natural chemistry, an ease in the way you spoke, the laughter that bubbled up between shared stories.

oliver, ever the chatterbox, quickly took a liking to you. he proudly showed off his toy, launching into an animated explanation of why the t-rex was the king of dinosaurs. you listened with genuine interest, your enthusiasm making oliver beam with pride.

by the time the rain had stopped, it felt as though you’d known each other much longer than just a single afternoon. before you left, rafe asked for your number, a hopeful gleam in his eyes. “maybe we could do this again sometime? without the rain.”

you agreed, your heart fluttering at the prospect.

in the weeks that followed, the two of you saw more of each other. rafe would pick you up after work, oliver bouncing in the back seat, eager to share his day. dinners turned into outings at the park, where oliver’s giggles echoed through the playground, rafe's hand finding yours as you watched him play. the three of you fit together seamlessly, like a puzzle you hadn’t known was missing a piece.

one evening, after oliver had been tucked into bed, rafe invited you to stay for a late-night movie. the living room was cozy, the soft glow of the tv casting shadows on the walls. you sat close, the warmth of his arm around your shoulders, the quiet intimacy of the moment stretching between you.

when the movie ended, neither of you moved, the silence filled with unspoken words. rafe turned to you, his eyes searching yours. "i've really missed this," he said softly. "having someone to share my life with. i'm glad it's with you"

you reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. "me too."

the kiss that followed was tender, a slow, gentle meeting of lips that spoke of more than just attraction—it was a promise of what could be. as you leaned into him, the weight of loneliness lifted, replaced by the warmth of a growing love.

in the months that followed, you became a part of their lives in every way. weekends were spent building blanket forts with oliver, evenings filled with quiet moments on the couch, your laughter mingling with rafe’s as you recounted the day’s events.

the day oliver called you "mommy" for the first time, your heart swelled with emotion. rafe squeezed your hand, his eyes shining with gratitude and love.

you were no longer just a visitor in their lives. you were family, a bond formed through shared moments, love, and the quiet understanding that together, you had built something beautiful.

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[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.

[naokointhewind]

“Do you like it?”

Silence hung in the air for a few seconds as you watched your stern-faced fiancé scrutinise what had just been presented to him.

Nanami had just returned from a long day of work, his creased leather briefcase barely having hit the hardwood of the foyer before you hurried down the steps to greet him. On any normal day, a quick kiss alongside an update on how dinner was coming along was the routine that Kento had grown happily accustomed to as his welcome home. But with a whimsical litte partner like you to keep him on his toes, he was hardly surprised when your first greeting to him was an abrupt flash of your stomach—a glistening emerald gem, hanging from a sleek gold bar that pierced right through your navel, swung gently against your skin.

“When did you…?” His toneless yet gentle voice finally broke through the pin-drop silence.

“Today. I wanted to surprise you with it.” You answered hesitantly, unsure of whether he liked the new addition or not. It had been a rather impulsive decision made by you that afternoon, when nothing at home was satiating the midday boredom, to get a new piercing. Something bold. Something to keep you excited and occupied from missing your bronze Adonis. It was between a belly button piercing or a nose piercing, but you went with the former after telling yourself that if it wasn’t to your taste, as least you could always hide it.

There was another bout of silence, and it took every bone and nerve in your body to refrain from the urge to shake an opinionated answer out of him.

“Darling…? Do you not like it-”

“Does it hurt?” The broad blonde cocked his head ever-so-slightly to the side, as if he was secretly trying to get a better angle of the novelty.

You shrugged, admittedly a little lost for words at his intense focus. “I’m a little sore, but as long as I don’t tug at it, it seems to be okay.” He was clearly still in deep thought as he gave a quick nod to your reply.

Another second of silence passed and that was the last that your patience could handle, “Ken, you’re freaking me out a little. Do you like it or not?” Your hand gripped loosely at the cotton hem of your shirt, ready to let it drop back down over your abdomen to hide the piercing away until the cool pads of Nanami’s fingers reached out to hold the curve of your waist.

“You look stunning, sweetheart. I love it.” One corner of his lips curled up into a soft smile as his eyes at last broke away from the dangling jewellery to meet your relieved gaze. “How do you keep getting prettier?” His soft lips found yours in time to keep the answer a mystery.

Nanami adored the unexpected surprise more than he could express, though. He could hardly understand his own unspoken thrill. Something about seeing the figure of his beau decorated in jewels that almost compared to your beauty was enough to make him appreciate how lucky he was to be your fiancé (for the fifth time that week).

end note: honestly, i was gonna add smut to this because ;3 but decided to just keep it short since it’s my first post. might make a part 2 tho if this gets much love.

[agathasfamiliar]

hi!! I just found your blog, can I request g!p detective!agatha railing reader in a missionary position and has a bulge kink (poking the bear🤭🏃‍♀️)

thank you so much for this request it was very fun to write, i hope you enjoy it!

fuck the police:

detective agnes o'connor x fem!reader

You fucked up and finally got caught for your long-running streak of graffiti artistry. What's worse than being arrested, however? Being interrogated by the one detective in town who causes you to question your all out hatred for the profession.

word count: 6.2k

tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, agnes is trans/intersex/has a penis, penis in vagina sex, power bottom!reader, service top!agnes (but agnes still needs a little control of course), handcuffs, breeding kink, bulge kink, agnes loves reader's tits, smut

author's note: trans butch agnes, my beloved. also i probably could've done more research into a more realistic set up/i know this isn't how someone being arrested/interrogated would work but it's porn so...hopefully you can look past that

You never thought you’d find yourself here, arrested and waiting to be questioned for your crimes. Perhaps you should’ve seen it coming, your graffiti art has steadily risen in popularity over the last few months, ever since one particularly evocative piece got featured on the local news and allegedly inspired a number of protests throughout the city of Westview.

Not that you had anything to do with that.

The police department has issued several requests for information on you, even offering a pretty handsome reward for the proven identity of “Hex”, the name you tag every piece with. A rumor has even reached your ears about a copycat artist getting arrested over in Eastview. Serves them right for using your signature, but it at least has kept the feds off your trail for a bit. 

Admittedly, you’d gotten cocky thinking you could get away with tagging the squad car stationed at the busiest intersection in town. In your defense, it had looked empty. How were you supposed to know the deputy on duty was napping in the back seat? You’d made it halfway through the looping pink pig face you were sprawling across the windshield before he woke up and chased you down four blocks.

If you were wearing your usual running shoes instead of having slipped on an old pair of slides in your rush out of the house, you probably would’ve outrun the middle-aged cop chasing you, another mistake you won’t make again.

  Now, you sit shivering in nothing but a sheer white tank top and sweatpants so spattered in all the vibrant colors of your, now confiscated, cans of spray paint, that you can’t even remember what color the pants originally were. You weren’t an idiot, you had a black hoodie on when you went out to do your work, but the rookie cop that booked you at the station also insisted on taking your sweatshirt for “evidence”.

You’re pretty sure he just wanted to see you suffer in the refrigerator-like temperature they keep the precinct at, clearly only recently having graduated the academy and already taking a shine to abusing his power. Pigs, indeed. 

The interrogation room they brought you to well over 30 minutes ago sits at the very back of the building, a windowless box that somehow looks and smells both musty and sterile. A large one-way mirror covers the wall opposite the door, the only noise in the confined space being the tick-tick-tick of the clock above it that reads just past midnight.

You rattle the short chain connecting your handcuffed wrists to a bar on the heavy metal table in front of you, just to disrupt the suffocating silence. Have you seriously been forgotten here?

Just as you have that thought, as if summoning another person into existence with it, the door, opposite the corner where you sit, opens briskly. 

Twin sighs of irritation drop from both your mouth and the supposed detective’s as she enters. You can’t make out too many details of her appearance at first because of the dim lighting that mostly just illuminates the table you sit at, as well as the fact that she has her head down looking over what you assume is your intake forms. 

“I want a lawyer.” Are the first words out of your mouth once the woman has turned to shut the door behind her.

“Ha!” She laughs dryly and it has you simmering with rage already, but something about it also sounds familiar.

 “Well, sweetie,” The still concealed detective continues as she finally steps into the light, “not likely to find a public defender that’s available at this hour, but if you insist on staying overnight…” She trails off amusedly, finally stepping into the light and causing your prepared reply to die in your throat as you connect the recognition of the voice with the blue eyes that meet yours.

“Detective O’Connor.” You greet, trying to keep your tone even. 

Fuck.

Of fucking course, of all the detectives in the goddamn city, this is who had to come question you. The same detective you’ve served coffee to every morning for the better part of three years at your shitty cafe day job. The same detective who barely acknowledges your existence, but when her fingers brush yours as you pass her usual over the counter, you think about it for the rest of the day. The detective you berate yourself for fantasizing about, because she’s everything you despise and your friends would never let you hear the end of it if they found out, especially with how often you’re spouting your “radical” political beliefs (not that you see them that way.)

Detective Agnes fucking O’Connor…

This is not how you imagined it would look if you ever got her in a room alone.

“Huh? Do I know you?” She questions, almost offended, and now you’re the one to let out a dry laugh.

“Here, let me help jog your memory.” You say, picking up the small, paper cup of water that had been left on the table for you in one bound hand, holding it aloft and reciting her order.

 “One large hot coffee with two sugars and half a pump of vanilla.”

She looks unaffected at your display, only raising both eyebrows once in sudden recognition before sauntering over to the chair on the other side of the table and sitting down casually. 

“Impressive, that how you’ve avoided custody so long? Charming Westview’s finest by memorizing their coffee orders?” Her questions are laced with condescension.

“Nope, just yours. Why? Is it working?” You smirk despite your better judgment. You hadn’t planned to try the flirting route to get out your charges, but hey, the best schemes have an element of truth to them. Plus, if this is the only chase you’ll have to speak to the detective alone, you might as well make the most of it. 

She doesn’t answer, instead leaning back in the rickety metal chair that lets out a squeal at the motion. Her long brown hair is pulled back into a ponytail that’s tied low at the base of her skull. Blue flannel sleeves are rolled up to the elbow and it’s all you can do not to think about tracing your tongue over the veins that snake over her strong forearms.

The jeans she’s wearing strain with the way she sits, legs spread apart, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop from letting out a gasp when you notice how it puts the delicious outline of what’s beneath the denim on display. Fuck, you do not need to be thinking about straddling the woman where she sits and grinding down against her bulge right now, but you are anyway.

Mercifully, she leans forward again in the seat to ask another question and the view is gone. You need to focus if you’re going to get out of this without incriminating yourself.

“What were you doing tonight?” She asks flatly, getting down to business. You know better than to provide anything resembling an answer, true or false.

“This whole thing seems pretty excessive, all things considered. I mean, an interrogation? Really, Agnes?” Her first name slips out before you can catch it, but you don’t really care.

“Just answer the question. And it’s Detective.” The flare of anger in her eyes only spurs you on.

“Sorry, Detective Agnes,” you correct yourself, purposefully using her name this time, just to see that flash of heat again. 

“If you were so curious about where I was tonight you could’ve just asked me out.” Now that you’ve opened the floodgates, the suggestive remarks just keep coming out.

For Agnes’ part, she remains still and draws in an angry breath. Her blue eyes blaze with irritation at your lack of cooperation more than the intrigue you were hoping for, but that just means you’ll have to turn up the dial on this improvised plan you’ve laid out for yourself. What’s the worst that could happen, anyway?

“Listen, if you’re going to keep wasting my time I’ll just lock you up now and wait ‘til morning.” She threatens with a glowering expression, voice raising every few words in an attempt to intimidate. It’s kind of cute, actually. 

You think she might hear just how her phrasing comes out and anticipate your next response, because she almost looks remorseful. The slightest pink tone that rises to her cheeks and the way she pokes her tongue out to wet her bottom lip when her eyes flick down to your barely covered chest don’t escape your careful observations either. 

“Ooo,” you start, falsely scandalized, “now you want me to spend the night?” A slight giggle escaping you at your own words and the way you lift your handcuffed wrists in front of you playfully. 

With the action, you’re sure to press your biceps against either side of your body to even more obviously display your tits, and she can’t help but look down with the movement, eyes raking over your nipples that stand at attention beneath the thin fabric in the cold space.

Heat is practically rolling off her in waves and you can’t tell for sure if it’s arousal or fury that is threatening to boil over, or what will happen when it does, but you have always been the type to take risks. Why stop now?

“Can’t you just get me off with a warning? I mean- let me off…” You ask before she can recover from your last question, attempting a simper at the intentional slip up in your speech. 

It seems that this is what finally pushes her over the edge as she slams her hands loudly against the metal table and stands up, causing it to vibrate with the impact. Her chair goes clattering to the ground behind her, but she doesn’t seem to care. The satisfied expression you wear drops for a second at the forceful display, maybe this wasn’t the best idea.

“Alright, that’s enough!” She shouts, leaning over so you can practically feel her breath on your face before she rounds the table quickly.

“Do you really wanna keep poking the bear?!” She asks, furious, now standing at your right side and heavily folding at the waist to shout into your ear. 

You have to lean away slightly at the volume that threatens to burst your eardrum and it provides just enough space to look the detective up and down where she stands. 

That’s when you see it. 

Unmistakable and pressing against the zipper of her jeans so forcefully that it’s a wonder they haven’t burst; Detective O’Connor is hard. 

You can’t drag your eyes away from the tented fabric, so obvious that it nearly casts a shadow onto the denim in the odd light of the room. As you are still seated, you’re practically at the perfect level to just lean over and mouth the length through her pants. It’s all you can do not to let your head dip where it wants to most, as if you’re a magnet being drawn by its opposite charge.

“I- uh.” You stutter, unsure of your words for the first time since she walked in. The amount of saliva that has accumulated in your mouth at the sight in front of you forces you to swallow before you speak again.

“I think I’d rather have the bear poke me.” You breathe, sounding wrecked just at the thought.

When you finally drag your gaze back up to hers, her face is burning red, but this time you can tell it is much more out of embarrassment than anger. She looks self conscious in a way you’ve never seen and it’s so, so pretty. 

“It’s okay I c-” You start, reaching out uselessly in your confines, but you’re cut off from your attempt at a rare comforting word when Agnes seizes your right shoulder and lifts you to your feet. She then immediately folds you over and presses you against the table on your stomach, handcuffed hands pinned beneath your chest. You let out a grunt at the forceful action as well as the freezing cold metal that almost stings your skin that has warmed at your flirting.

The position is much like the one you were put in a few hours ago upon your arrest, only now it causes you to ache with desire instead of seeth with fury. 

“You think this is funny?!” She questions, but it sounds strained and unsure. Your own hesitance at her intentions keeps you from muttering out that it’s actually not funny, it’s really fucking hot.

It dawns on you then that she probably turned you over like this so you aren’t able to see the blush that’s probably still spreading over her skin, or the bulge in her pants that’s no doubt only getting worse, especially with how you purposefully arch your back in her grasp.

She has you pinned beneath her hands, one still on your shoulder and the other holding your waist, the perfect placement for her to pull you back against her. Instead, a shaky breath sounds from behind you. It seems like she’s deciding what to do next and you can almost feel the heat radiating from between her hips that begs her to choose the option you’re hoping for too.

You start pressing back yourself, impatient and using any amount of leverage possible to reach your destination. To help her decide.

“Come on, detective. Let me help you out.” You nearly whisper in the most convincing and sweet voice you can muster. Her hands loosen ever so slightly at the soft sound and you use the opportunity to slide the last inch backwards, your ass just barely brushing her front, aware also that if she had wanted to stop you she would’ve easily been able to.

You feel the hardness and heat of her cock against you through both your clothing and nearly release a whimper at the sensation, at the idea of her finally being inside you like you’ve fantasized about so many times. 

Just as quickly as it’s there, it’s gone again. Her hands release you entirely and she steps away without a word, leaving you feeling even colder than the steel table you’re slumped against. You drop your head to the metal in defeat. That’s it, you think. Your efforts haven't worked and you’re not only going to spend the night in a cell, but you’re going to do so while very uncomfortably wet and wound up. Plus, she’s probably going to try to add attempted bribery or harassment to your charge sheet. God, this was a dumb idea. Why couldn’t you have just gotten some old guy detective whose questions you would have dodged coldly and without a second thought?

All these thoughts flash through your head in the few seconds it takes Agnes to step away from the table and turn you by the hips to face her, the chain keeping you there being just long enough to allow such movement. 

You look down immediately, as if out of instinct, to find the large bulge still present, possibly even more so somehow. A bolt of desire strikes through your core at the small dark spot you notice has formed on the crotch of the already dark jeans. The evidence of your effect threatens to turn your legs to jelly. Finally, your eyes raise to meet Agnes’ with a curiosity, who stands less than a foot from you, hands still holding your hips loosely. The thrill of not knowing what she’ll do next makes your already racing heart beat even faster.

You find that she looks as weak as you feel, drinking you in like you’re an ice cold glass of water she’s found in the middle of the sahara. It’s clear that she’s used up every last thread of restraint she has to resist your offer, and it still has proven to be insufficient. Her blue irises have nearly been swallowed by blown black pupils that bore into you as she speaks her resignation to her rapturous fate.

“If I’m gonna fuck you,” she breathes the words out like she’s just run a marathon, “it’s gonna be while looking at those pretty tits.”

You lean back into the table in favor of collapsing straight to the floor at those words. How is this actually happening?

Seeing you stumble into the table, her right hand shifts down to your thigh and lifts, helping you to sit on the ledge as she steps closer to let your knees bracket her body. She looks so much more confident in this moment, and not in the same stone-faced way she had while you prodded at her before. It brings a soft smile to your lips and she looks away, somewhat coyly, at your noticing. It’s hard to decide if you prefer her shy or assertive.  

Blunt nails graze gently over your covered thighs, to your hips, then your waist, before finally settling over your scarcely contained breasts. Your own sharp intake of breath meets your ears as you lean into the warm touch and she squeezes them with a smirk playing on her lips.

  “I might not remember your face…” she rasps, leaning to speak directly into your right ear, “but I definitely remember these.” Both thumbs move to brush over your already pebbled nipples, causing them to harden further. You roll your eyes, both at the comment and at the thread of pleasure that tugs right from where she touches you all the way down to your pulsing clit.

For all the humor in it, you can’t help but notice just how sincere her comment sounds and flashes run through your mind of every low cut top you’ve ever worn to work, wondering which one’s are her favorite.

“Shut up and fuck me already.” You exhale with a chuckle against her cheek, momentarily forgetting your binds and trying to reach around her shoulders to pull her closer. The chain rattles loudly and you jerk with the reminder of your limited movement.

Agnes shakes her head and laughs at your needy but firm command as well as your inability to move.

“Here, let me.” She continues laughing gently as she reaches for the key ring you somehow hadn’t yet noticed swinging from her hip. 

“No.” You blurt before you can think better of it. 

“Leave them.” 

It’s a daring statement and you run your tongue across your teeth mischievously while the implication works its way through the woman’s mind. Her lower lip disappears into her mouth with how hard she bites into it, looking at you in disbelief and utter need. 

“Fuck,” is all she says, dropping the keys back to her side and moving instead to undo her belt with a clumsy haste. 

You would be scrambling to remove your own pants as well, not wanting to waste anymore time, but your own request has left you unable to do so. Instead, you’re left in awe as the black leather belt is unlatched and left hanging loosely open while Agnes works at her zipper. Even less is left to the imagination when denim is pulled aside to reveal cotton boxer briefs protruding with the tension of her arousal.

Her cock is pressing tautly against the soft, grey material and the way the underwear clings to her body causes you to gape at the implication of how much the secure garment is still concealing. 

The dark spot you’d noticed on her jeans is even darker and more centralized to its origin on the grey cloth. Saliva fills your mouth again at the sight, the only thing better than seeing her from beneath that last layer of clothing will be when it is finally removed.

As if reading your mind and wanting you to suffer a moment long, she pauses her motions of undressing any further. Before you can argue or make a snide remark, her hands are on your own waistband, tugging the paint-covered article down as much as she can while you’re still seated. You can’t very well lift yourself with your hands at the moment, so you slip off the table quickly to help get them the rest of the way down, hopping back up just as swiftly and letting her pull them off your legs, shoes falling to the floor one by one in the process. 

The cold table under your mostly bare ass draws the breath from you momentarily, only a black pair of boyshorts now protecting you from the metal.

“Do you ever wash these?” Agnes asks down at the rainbow vomit littering your clothing before dropping the pants to the floor, a real dry humor in her voice replacing the stern, mocking one from when she first entered the room.

“What’s the point?” You ask, because seriously, why would you wash them if you’re just going to get paint all over them again?

“Do you answer every question with a question?” She fires back, moving back between your knees from where she’d stepped back to help undress you. Her fingers play again at her own waistband, dipping into them slightly before meeting your eyes, waiting for your answer.

“Do you always stall like this when a girl wants you to fill her pussy?” You ask with an exaggerated expression of curiosity, as if you are genuinely awaiting the answer and not just communicating your impatience. 

Her cheeks pink again at the response, any clever comebacks quickly forgotten. You remove your gaze from her face and shift it back to her arousal to allow her to blush in private.

In your peripheral vision, you see her eyes flick up to watch your face as she dips her left hand into her underwear and grasps herself so gently, right hand pushing the material down to reveal what you’ve been waiting for.

You’re first met with a mess of dark curls that trail all the way up to her belly button, which you only catch a quick glimpse of with the way her shirt momentarily gets caught by her arm. You stifle a moan at the reveal of her thick cock; rock hard, reddened and still beading pre-cum, as you saw evidenced on the front of her jeans and underwear.

Now you slightly regret having her leave the cuffs on, as you long to reach out and take the length in your hands, or better yet, your mouth. Heat takes your face at the idea of getting on your knees before the detective and gagging on her length, and now you’re the one blushing and biting your lip.

Painfully tearing your eyes from the beautiful sight to catch Agnes’ expression, you find her still looking for your reaction. She finds exactly what she’s looking for in the way your eyes soften and you use one finger, your hands still bound at the wrists and settled in front of your chest, to beckon her forward.

Loose strands of brown hair that have escaped her messily tied back tendrils brush the side of your face as she leans in close to catch your message.

“I need your cock inside me, detective.” You husk, more than speak, into her ear, the lust dripping from the title she insisted on minutes ago causing a physical and auditory shudder through the woman. Looking back down, you see Agnes stroke herself once, as if your words have rendered her unable to resist.

Maybe she notices that you’re about to make a comment about it, because in one swift motion Agnes’ right hand flies up to your left shoulder, shifting you fully to your back on the table. You let out a gasp at the sudden movement, metal tabletop clattering at the impact and drowning out the sound. Just as quickly as you’ve adjusted to your new position, you’re being pulled by the thighs to the very edge of the table and towards exactly what you want, Agnes then guiding you to wrap your spread legs around her hips for support.

“You need this, huh?” She asks, hungrily looking over your body from her new perspective. You’re about to answer her question with your own when she slowly and teasingly drags the head of her cock from your clit to your entrance, over your underwear. Her timing is getting a little too convenient.

You groan at the feeling of your own wetness being pressed against you by her hardness. It makes you ache knowing it’s so close to being consumed by your heat, only a thin shield of fabric left between you. If you had full range of motion of your hands, you would have already ripped the rest of your clothing off, but the quick and dirty way you’re both still mostly clothed almost turns you on more. 

Desperate to maintain the dizzying contact, your hips grind upward as your legs become a vice, pulling her ever closer. The clear enthusiasm only spurs her on, gliding back up and down again, circling your clit three times with her cock on the last pass until you're squirming beneath her and hopelessly trying to contain your whimpering. You would rather wait a lifetime for your orgasm than beg a cop.

You’re so sopping wet, though, that when you look down between your bodies you can see the way her cock shines with your arousal despite not having yet made full contact. It’s almost too much to bear, your clit throbbing in time with your pounding pulse. Something has to give or you’re soon going to be a blabbering mess. 

“Just fuck me, Agnes!” You bark out, hips rising insistently and your voice verging on a whine.

The room goes still for a moment, even the clock ticking away on the wall seems to pause for dramatic effect as she quirks an eyebrow and tilts her head dangerously at your outburst. That same feeling from before washes over you, when you thought you might’ve really fucked up, but it only lasts for half a second before a hand is shoving your ruined underwear to one side and you feel the tip of her resting at your entrance.

Your eyes meet her blue ones, which are actually still mostly black, especially in this light. They burn into you like before and you don’t know whether her silence is a good or bad thing. 

You draw in your own shaky breath, waiting for her next move, and on the exhale she sheathes herself to the hilt inside of you.

Even she can’t contain her half of the guttural growl that comes from both of you at the perfect feeling. You don’t even have the wherewithal to feel embarrassed about just how fucking soaked you are that she was able to slide all the way in with one thrust, because the way her cock is filling you up so completely has rendered every other thought irrelevant.

A moment passes where you both breathe, adjusting to the stretch and squeeze respectively. You feel her throb once within you and think, at this point, with enough determination, you could come just from that small amount of friction.

You don’t need that determination, though. As if mocking that passing thought, Agnes skips any unnecessary build up and starts at a positively bruising pace. Just one moment ago she was panting over you, looking like she might not even make it two thrusts in before unraveling, and now she’s slamming into you with a literally breathtaking force.

No intelligible noises are able to come out of your throat at first, only broken, reedy gasps. Your eyes roll back in your head as the glorious, slapping sounds of your joining sexes fill your ears. Her length jabs over and over again at the perfect spot inside you, just where you need her. 

Doing your best to focus your vision, you look up to see the red face of a woman clearly holding on to her composure for dear life. Her finger nails are short, but still able to bite into your hips ever so slightly as she practically slides you up and down along the table while also moving against you herself, which deepens her thrusts even more.

This also seemingly provides quite the show for Agnes, who you observe is splitting her time between watching your face contorting with pleasure, her cock sliding in and out of your pussy, and most of all, the way your tits are bouncing considerably with her every movement.

“You like these? You should fuck them.” You make out between gasping breaths, nodding down at your own chest.

Agnes takes a moment to respond, her laser focus causing her to not even register your words at first. When she does however, and notices your gesturing, her thrusting falters only for a moment, as if the idea alone has made her nearly swoon with desire. Crystal irises scan you over again and you can tell she’s thinking about it by the way her eyebrows knit together in a desperate sort of way.

“Maybe next time.” She decides, smirking down at you and ramming herself into you particularly hard once before returning to her rhythm, while her left hand comes up to grip your right breast greedily.

“Mmn- next time?” You ask around a moan, trying not to sound too hopeful, but it’s also such an unexpected sentiment from the detective you can’t help but question her further.

“I’d bet good money this won’t be your last arrest,” is all she says to satisfy your curiosity. While it’s also a subtle dig at your evading skills, your imagination still runs wild with the unspoken promise of how a future slip-up might turn out for you. It almost makes you want to get caught again.

“Right, because you’d love to f-fuck, fuck! Oh my god!” Your response turns into a moaning curse when her hand shoots down from playing with your tits so her thumb can land firmly on your clit and press down with flawless pressure, never letting up consistently filling you in the process. 

“Oh fuck! Don’t stop! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me..” The mantra spills from your lips while your orgasm mounts within you and you know you’ll be toppling over the edge any minute now.

If your hands were free you would be locking your fingers behind her neck and pulling her even closer to you to ensure you get what you want, but the burn of the metal chafing your wrists is a delicious alternative. The pain only sharpens the pleasure you’re feeling everywhere else and you throb at the idea of waking up tomorrow and seeing angry red and purple bracelets of evidence.

At your emphatic request, she doesn’t stop. You’ve never been so full before and when Agnes’ cock throbs within you after every couple of pumps, stars explode behind your eyes. There’d better be a next time because you’re pretty sure nothing and nobody has or will ever make you feel like this.

“I’m so, so close. Fuck!” You shout, unsure what possesses you to tell her, but her response only drives you closer to the edge.

“Fuck, yeah, fucking come for me. Come on my cock, come on my c-cock…” She huffs, the exertion that you were already impressed with her maintaining finally shows in her voice, but she still never lets up. It almost sounds like she’s begging, a “please” barely contained behind her lips, and that’s what makes you really want to come for her.

Chasing your orgasm, you redouble your efforts of rocking your hips up and it makes her length press even more fully against your front wall until you’re practically screaming with pleasure. The new angle caused by your rocking coupled with the way your walls are tightening around her in anticipation of your release is also clearly doing something for Agnes.

Her breaths are coming in short puffs and she is completely unable to stifle the loud whimper that bursts out of her when you clench around her even harder, your orgasm just seconds away.

That’s what finally does it, that mewl that you were able to pull from the tough detective. It sends you flying, every muscle tenses and wave after wave of pleasure causes you to buck against the table and Agnes, but she holds you firmly in place, fucking you through it and moaning herself the whole time as she marvels at your release. The aftershocks go on for what feels like forever while you float in your euphoria, never wanting it to end.

After your release, Agnes’ thrusts quickly become short and frantic, almost rutting into you with a fervor. The throbs you’ve felt are coming on every pump and you’re content to lie back in your blissed out state and let her take whatever she wants, until she starts to pull out of you, one trembling hand releasing your hip and clearly intent on finishing herself off. 

You’re suddenly more lucid than ever, quickly locking your ankles behind her from where they’d fallen limp, and shoving her back into you until she bottoms out. A surprised breath leaves her at the action, a sheen of sweat breaking across her forehead as she stutters out her reasoning.

“I-I’m gonna-” She can’t even get the words out and it’s the second time in so many minutes that you feel your heart squeeze at just how adorable this usually grave woman is. 

“I know, I know. Come inside me, baby.” Your voice is thick with desire and you’re still lingering bliss, the pet name slipping out like water, but you need her to know just how badly you want it.

Her eyes widen slightly as a deeper blush somehow takes over her already red face, unsure but so very full of want. You feel her twitch within you despite herself and her hips roll just at the words. 

You don’t break eye contact, making clear how serious you are to quell her doubt.

Tentatively, after a beat, she starts up a slower pace, pulling almost out of you before thrusting all the way back in, like she’s giving herself time to think again.

“You can do it baby, I know you want to. Fuck, you feel so good inside me.” You gasp out the words while she fucks back into your pussy and you think you could come again just from the way she looks at you when you say them.

You repeat your cooing encouragements and it doesn’t even take three more of those slow thrusts before she falters and stays sheathed inside you, rutting weakly. 

“Come on, baby.” You repeat, and you know she’s done.

More of those beautiful whimpers fall from her lips as you feel one stronger throb and then warmth explodes into your walls. You can’t help but moan yourself at the feeling of being filled by her. Spurt after spurt of her cum coats your insides while she holds you tighter and tighter, as if you’ll float away if she lets go. Her desperate moans die down eventually and she slumps against you, still inside, and draws in one big breath before releasing it slowly. Her eyes are screwed shut and her head is now resting against your restrained hands on your chest. 

It’s probably good they're restrained, you think, because if they weren’t you’d be having a very hard time resisting running your fingers through her long hair, tenderly scratching your nails against the nape of her neck.

Another beat passes where the two of you breath against one another and come down from your respective highs. The delicious mix of your and Agnes’ cum has started to drip out of you onto the table below and it’s a hot enough thought that your sensitive clit gives a weak twitch and you clench around Agnes unintentionally, causing her to crane her neck to look up at you.

Her eyes are clear again and softer than you’ve ever seen them; you let your coursing endorphins carry you away on a cloud of imagining leaning the six inches it would take to capture her lips in yours, but you don’t dare actually do it.

She starts to shift, maybe shaking herself from some similar thought, you can’t tell. Her soft sex pulls out of you slowly as she pushes up on her hands and waits for you to release her from the grip your legs still have her in. You unsteadily unravel yourself from her, shuddering slightly at the loss and trying not to think about how empty you feel without her.

Now free, she tucks herself back into her briefs and makes quick work of finally undoing your cuffs. Her hands rub at the raw skin absently, using her hold there to pull you into a seated position. She then reaches down for the balled-up mess you call a pair of pants and slides them back onto your trembling legs easily. After you’re relatively put back together, cum still leaking out and coating your already ruined underwear, she looks you over once more with hunger along with something else you can’t place. 

She looks thoughtful, like she wants to say something else but thinks better of it, instead letting a sly smile pull at her mouth and a different comment sneak through with a soft laugh.

“Consider that your warning.”

[heeluvv]

𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐀𝐘 ⋆˚࿔

pairing ｡𖦹°‧ yang jungwon x fem!reader

genre ｡𖦹°‧ high school au, smut, fluff (?)

warnings ｡𖦹°‧ oral (f receiving), praise kink, daddy kink, dry humping (slight), etc.

natty’s notes ｡𖦹°‧ mdni, hate comments will be deleted.

tears streamed down your cheeks as you dragged yourself out of class to meet your boyfriend. you didn’t hate school because of the workload—it was the relentless cruelty of the students, who always found new ways to humiliate you, that made it unbearable.

once you spotted him down the hallways you wasted no time running towards him. his gaze filled with concern has he wrapped his arms around your small frame. “princess, what’s wrong?”

your head shook frantically, a desperate, rapid motion that sent tears flying from your soaked cheeks. sobs wracked your body, each one forcing another wave of anguish through you as you tried to convey your refusal without words. your chest heaved, breath hitching, but still, you kept shaking your head—no, no, no—until it felt like the world itself might shatter around you.

jungwon’s chest tightened at the sight of you breaking down, his heart aching with every frantic shake of your head. he hated this—hated seeing you like this, hated the way your sobs trembled through your entire body, leaving you breathless and overwhelmed. his hands twitched at his sides, desperate to do something, anything to take away your pain.

without a second thought, he stepped forward and gently scooped you into his arms, holding you close as if shielding you from the world. “it’s okay baby, i’m here,” he murmured, his voice soft yet firm, hoping his warmth could calm the storm raging inside you. he felt your body tense at first, then slowly melt against him, your fists gripping his shirt as though he was the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely.

he carried you with ease, his grip secure but gentle, refusing to let go until he knew you were safe. the cool air brushed against your skin as he brought you to his car, carefully settling you into the passenger seat before shutting the door and rounding to the driver’s side.

as soon as he slid in, his hand found yours, fingers intertwining as he gave it a reassuring squeeze. “breathe, baby,” he whispered, his eyes filled with nothing but concern and love. “you’re not alone. i’ve got you princess.”

your breath hitched as you tried to speak, but the words tangled in your throat, broken by the hiccups and shuddering sobs that still wracked your body. jungwon squeezed your hand, his touch grounding, but your lips still trembled as you forced the words out.

“t-they… they h-humiliated me,” you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper. your eyes squeezed shut, fresh tears slipping down your cheeks as shame crawled up your spine. “i… i d-didn’t do anything wrong, but t-they—”

“who, lovie?” jungwon’s voice was sharp, edged with barely restrained anger. his grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles going white as his jaw clenched. he could feel his blood boiling, his usually soft eyes darkening as he watched you struggle to even get the words out. seeing you like this, completely broken because of them, made something inside him snap.

he cupped your face gently, tilting your chin so you’d look at him. “princess, breathe,” he said, his voice softening, though the fire in his eyes remained. “it’s okay, my love.” his thumbs brushed away the stray tears streaking down your face, his heart aching at how fragile you looked in that moment.

“just tell me who did this to you, baby?” he asked again, his voice lower this time, calmer—but there was a dangerous edge to it, a silent promise that he wasn’t going to let this slide.

you sniffled, your fingers clutching onto his sleeve as if afraid he’d disappear. “i-it doesn’t matter…” you mumbled, shaking your head weakly.

but jungwon wasn’t having it. “no, it does matter jagiya, ” he said firmly. “no one gets to treat you like this and get away with it.” he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as he tried to contain the anger bubbling inside him. then, he looked at you, his expression softening again.

“listen to me cupcake,” he said, his tone steady and full of reassurance. “i don’t care what it takes, i’ll handle this. you don’t have to go through this alone, okay?” he reached for your hand again, squeezing it tightly. “you have me. always.”

he meant every word. and as you looked into his eyes, filled with nothing but love and fierce protectiveness, you knew you weren’t alone in this.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.

his tongue darted out, greedily lapping up the sweet intoxicating juices that flowed from your pussy lips. a low grunt escaped his throat as he savored the addicting taste, causing you to squirm uncontrollably on the passenger seat. tears streamed down your face, no longer from sadness but from the overwhelming pleasure that your boyfriend was giving you.

"daddy—! please i c—can't take it—!" tears streamed down your face as you begged for mercy, your grip on his blond hair growing tighter by the second. your heart pounded against your chest with fear and shame, knowing anyone could stumble upon this forbidden act between you and jungwon. but he didn't care about consequences, focused only on making his princess feel better at any cost. as his lips left a trail of fire on your skin, his voice was a gentle murmur in your ear. "come on, princess... you're doing so good," he whispered, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart race. his lips left your wet pussy only briefly before crashing down onto your lips, the hunger evident in the way his tongue eagerly explored your mouth. soft whines escaped from both of you as your bodies melded together, lost in the heat and passion of the moment. with one hand still entwined in yours, his other hand expertly played with you, collecting the slickness of your desire before gently pushing his fingers inside you with soft strokes that sent waves of pleasure through your body.

"you're so wet for me baby..."

your legs shook at the feeling of his fingers coming in you so harshly now, the gently strokes now long forgotten. you couldn't help but moan loudly as he worked his finger inside you, reaching depths that you never knew existed. he chuckled at your reaction, his voice rough and deep with desire. "shit baby, you love this, don't you?" he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "love it when daddy makes you feel so good?" you could only nod, unable to find your voice as waves of pleasure washed over your body. his finger moved faster, hitting all the right spots and making you squirm under him. the sound of his moans mixed with yours as he tried to relieve himself on your thighs, the friction against his clothed cock driving him wild.

every nerve in your body was on fire, your mind completely consumed by the sensations he was creating. you had never felt this way before, completely at the mercy of another person and loving every second of it. as his fingers continued to work their magic, you couldn't help but wonder what other pleasures he had in store for you. and for the first time in your life, you couldn't wait to find out.

natty's notes ｡𖦹° omg guys tysm for all the love on my post and the follows, ilyyyy <33. i hope you enjoyed this!!

[jxwl4k]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ flowers .𖥔 ݁ ˖

☘︎ . . . genre. fluff

☘︎ . . . pairings. bakugou x fem!reader

⤿ bakugou and yn have a tradition of exchanging flowers every week. it’s their words of showing love, one flower at a time.

Bakugou Katsuki never thought he’d be the type of guy to be surrounded by flowers, let alone look forward to them. But ever since he and YN started dating, their relationship had bloomed into something both tender and beautiful.

It all started with a single flower.

One morning, after an especially grueling training session, YN had handed him a single red carnation. “You looked like you could use something nice today,” she’d said with a smile.

Red carnations, he later found out, symbolized admiration and affection. He’d grumbled something about not needing a flower, but when she turned away, he found himself holding onto it a little too carefully. He’d kept it on his desk until the petals started to wilt.

The next week, he returned the gesture. A lone sunflower, bold and bright, left on her desk with a note scrawled in his messy handwriting: For the sunny idiot.

Sunflowers, bright and unwavering, symbolized loyalty and adoration. She’d laughed when she saw it, clutching the flower to her chest like it was the most precious thing in the world.

From then on, it became their tradition.

Every week, without fail, Bakugou and YN would exchange flowers. It wasn’t about extravagant bouquets or expensive arrangements—it was the meaning behind each bloom that counted.

One week, YN surprised him with a deep blue delphinium, carefully tied with a red ribbon. “It reminded me of you,” she said shyly.

Delphiniums symbolized strength and boldness, but also tenderness—a perfect balance for Bakugou.

He stared at the flower, his heart beating faster than he’d like to admit. “Tch. You’re such a sap.” But the flower ended up in a small vase on his nightstand, where it stayed for days.

In return, he gifted her a sprig of baby’s breath, the tiny white flowers delicate and pure.

“They mean everlasting love,” he mumbled when she looked at him curiously. She’d smiled at him in surprise, her expression soft. “You’re sweeter than you let on, Katsuki.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, ears pink.

What surprised YN the most was how seriously Bakugou took their tradition. His dorm room slowly became filled with small vases, each holding the flowers she gave him. Every evening, she’d catch him changing the water, trimming the stems, or just staring at them with an unreadable expression.

“Why do you take such good care of them?” she asked one day, watching him gently handle a tulip she’d given him earlier that week.

He didn’t look up. “You give me these, so they’re important. Gotta make sure they last.”

Tulips, she remembered, symbolized deep and unconditional love. Her chest tightened at his words, her love for him growing even more.

On the flip side, YN had a growing collection of pressed flowers, each one carefully saved from the pieces he gave her. Her favorite was a single red rose he’d handed her one evening after a long day of training.

“For putting up with me,” he’d said gruffly, refusing to meet her eyes.

Red roses, the ultimate symbol of passionate love, became her most treasured keepsake.

One Sunday morning, YN found herself standing at a flower cart near the dorms, scanning the vibrant blooms. She smiled as her fingers brushed over a single daisy. Perfect.

Daisies, with their cheerful white petals, symbolized innocence and new beginnings—a reminder of the pure joy she felt in their relationship.

When she returned to their usual meeting spot, Bakugou was already there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. In his hand was a sprig of lavender.

Lavender, calming and fragrant, symbolized devotion and serenity—qualities she often brought into his life.

They exchanged flowers silently, a smile tugging at both their lips.

“You’re a softie, you know,” she teased, twirling the lavender between her fingers.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, but his small smile betrayed him.

As they sat together on the bench, flowers in hand, it was clear their tradition wasn’t just about the blooms. It was about the quiet love they shared, the joy in small gestures, and the unspoken promise they made to nurture each other—just like the flowers they exchanged every week.

[plumeria1]

Family Time

Note: This post is for @trinityobsessesovatings who made this cute demand asking. I thought I wouldn't finish it until tomorrow, but since I just finished it, I'm posting it now. I hope you like it.

Pairing: Caitlyn Kiramman x Fem Reader

Warning: None

Content: Fluff, etablished relationship

Summary: A sweet moment with your wife and your daughters

You loved rainy days; those were the days when you and your wife, Caitlyn, could spend the day at home.

Since the end of the war against Noxus, things had calmed down. You had accepted Councilor Medarda's proposal to join the council.

When Caitlyn was offered to take her mother's place on the council, she refused, preferring to focus on her job as sheriff. But she had warmly recommended that you take her place; she knew you would do very well.

Shortly after you joined the council, Caitlyn invited you to dinner, pretending to want to celebrate the end of the war and your new job. But at the end of the dinner, she had taken you to the garden where she often spent time with her mother.

That was where she had proposed to you. You had never been happier, your face covered in tears of joy, and you had accepted while pulling her into a long, passionate kiss.

After your marriage, you settled into the Kiramman family mansion, and soon the topic of children came up. It was something that Caitlyn and you had in common; you had always wanted children.

But the problem was that it is impossible for two women to conceive children, so it was only logical that you turned to adoption.

After a year, you had adopted two six-year-old little girls, adorable twins: Cassandra and Calliope. The name of the first had made Caitlyn smile; she found it ironic that one of her daughters bore the name of her late mother.

It took a little time to adjust, but within three months, you all got used to each other, and since then, your daughters had never left your side.

Cassandra was a bit closer to you, and Calliope to Caitlyn, but they loved you both equally. And since their adoption, your lives had been perfect.

Today, you had planned to spend the day outside with the three of you, but the rain had ruined your plans. Fortunately, you quickly found something to keep you occupied all day.

After dinner, sitting in front of the fireplace, the twins played with dolls under Caitlyn's gentle supervision, who was having fun with them. On your side, you were coming back from the kitchen where you had gone to get something to snack on.

You loved what you saw: your family gathered away from the world’s complications and the traveling noise. You saw Caitlyn soften as she looked at your daughters. You spoke from the doorstep.

-So, you're playing without me?

-Mama!

Cassandra abandoned her doll to run toward you.

-Come, I made you a drawing.

You laughed when she took your hand and pulled you toward Caitlyn and Calliope, then made you sit down before handing you a sheet full of colors. On it, you could see four stick figures, two smaller ones between two larger ones.

-Look, it's you and mom, and this is Callie and me.

-It's very beautiful, sweetie.

You placed the drawing next to you and took her in your arms. Then you turned to Caitlyn and Calliope.

-So, what were you playing before I arrived?

-The heroes of Piltover, Callie is Mel.

-And who are you?

-Mom.

Caitlyn laughed upon hearing that. Knowing that your daughters saw her as a heroine warmed her heart.

You ended up sitting with them until it was time for bed. You had to carry the girls because they could barely keep their eyes open.

Once in their beds, you tucked them in and gave each of them a kiss on the forehead to wish them goodnight and went to bed yourself.

When you joined Caitlyn in your bed, she was in her pajamas, eagerly waiting for you. She also had a hard time staying awake, but she didn’t want to sleep without you. She loved holding you in her arms when she slept; your presence warmed her inside and out.

-It was a good day.

Barely seated beside her, she pulled you into her arms, making you laugh. Then she rested her head on your shoulder.

-Yes, we should do this more often.

-Mmh.

You were about to say something else when you noticed she had fallen asleep. Instead, you turned off the light on your bedside lamp, kissed her on the top of her head, and snuggled up to her with a smile. In a few minutes, you fell asleep too.

[animasola86]

LOST & FOUND 🫂 CH3

After Mommy has disciplined you with the cane, you feel the need to properly apologize to her, which was Daddy's idea, who promises you a reward if you do so.

soft!Daddy!dom x Mommy!domme x little girl!reader

WARNINGS: F!Reader insert. Explicit sexual content. Mommy/Daddy kink. Dd/Md/lg dynamics. Pet names. Dom/sub undertones. Domestic discipline/caning. Cunnilingus. Tongue fucking. Cuntwarming? Vaginal fingering. Squirting. Subspace. Aftercare. Unprotected piv sex. Creampie. Cockwarming. (More notes under the cut!)

WORDS: 8.1k 🔷️ READ ON AO3

A/N: This chapter is a direct continuation of Chapter 1 and a summary of the dynamic you can expect from the rest of the story: a love triangle with F/F and F/M and F/F/M intimacies. I will note what you can expect in each chapter (indicated by the color of the header image and by the different colors in the warning tags), but just remember that our Reader is bisexual/bi-curious, so we'll have a multitude of different sex scenes here. ⚠️Also warning: it starts a little rough, sorry. Speaking of: before you hate on Mommy in this chapter, remember: 1) this is an established (fictional!) BDSM relationship with implied established boundaries and rules, 2) she is a Domme, 3) she is human and can have bad days too, 4) this is fiction, 5) please keep reading, it'll all get resolved! This is a HURT and comfort story after all!

Chapter 2 🔷️ Chapter 3 🔷️ Chapter 4

Several months later

You startle awake to loud voices. It takes you a long moment to realize where you are. In your bed, on your stomach. Mommy's voice in your ear, muffled, and suddenly you remember why your butt hurts so bad.

It's hazy, there were a lot of tears and pleading words, apologies and desperate cries, and it all started with a baking tray and flying cookies, the smell of burnt dough in the air, heat all around you, a stumble, a crash, herbs and soil raining to the ground.

It wouldn't even have been that bad if Mommy hadn't come into the kitchen at the exact moment you had lost your balance and dropped everything, your surprise for Daddy ruined as well as her precious herb garden. You knew Mommy cooked sometimes, but why she'd been so upset upon seeing the broken pot and plant, you had no idea.

But she was furious, screaming at you as you shrunk away. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” you cried, trying to clean up your mess, but all you did was make it worse. You even burned yourself on the hot sheet, destroyed the rest of the plant by stepping on it, and it was Mommy's flat hand on your cheek that brought you out of the headless panic and into a deep-rooted shock.

“Take a breath,” she ordered, staring at you. “And another. Okay? Good, then clean this up. Now.”

And you did, with shaking hands, but you somehow managed to scoop up burnt cookies, dirt and plant remnants, threw it all into the trash, then wiped the floor and washed the baking sheet. And Mommy watched, with her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes darker, her face a stoic angry mask. As soon as you were done, you looked at her, and couldn't help but shed a new batch of tears, and some more, until you were back into your hysterics, sobbing and apologizing.

“Go to your room,” she told you. “Wait for me.”

Through the tears, you nodded and shuffled away, barely making it up the stairs. You felt horrible, and her cold demeanor wasn't helping, it only made it worse. You knew that look of disappointment all too well, had seen it on your own mother many times. You were a failure, you knew it, you'd forgotten it for a while, distracted by Mommy and Daddy's care, but you remembered now.

You were a failure.

And you sat in your room and waited, crying soundlessly, your lips tingling, feeling numb and way too much all at the same time. She came to you ten minutes later, in her hand a thin wooden stick. You blinked, your breath hitching. You knew what it was, had seen it on her wall, had seen videos of it being used on others. And it scared you. A lot. She'd disciplined you before, but only with her hand, not with that thing.

“Mommy?” you whimpered, staring at her.

She only shook her head and pointed to the floor. “Take off your pants and underwear and kneel on the floor, head down, ass in the air. Come on, don't make me wait.” Her voice was harsh, and all you could do was follow her words.

But as you knelt there, waiting for your punishment, the panic came back full force. You were shaking so badly you could barely stay in your position. More of your own pathetic pleading and crying and whining noises filled your ears, your heart beating out of your chest, your throat tight, lungs burning. Mommy ignored you.

When the first blow hit your rear, you screamed and jolted away. “Stay where you are!” she said sternly. “And count with me, come on! One.”

“One...” you croaked out. The cane cut through the air again and met your soft flesh. “Two,” she said, and you repeated it barely able to speak. “You deserve this, don't you? It's for your own good. You need this. Embrace the pain, think about what happened,” she explained between hits, three, four, five, you were shuddering on the floor, sobbing helplessly into your folded arms as the pain crashed through you, every impact making you flinch badly.

Six, seven, eight, nine, ten. She eased her blows a little as she talked between them, her voice strangely calm despite the relentless flick of her wrist. “You ruined something that was very dear to Mommy. I know it was an accident, but you were clumsy and careless. You could have hurt yourself as well. We can't have that.”

Ten, eleven, twelve. The thirteenth blow was particularly hard again, seemingly cutting into your skin, making you jerk forward with a pained yelp. “And you fell into old habits. We did not spend all that time trying to make you better if it only takes one stupid mistake to bring you back to square one.”

Fourteen, fifteen. You were a gasping mess on the floor, knees shaking so badly you could barely keep your weight on them. Sixteen, seventeen. Your whole body was aflame, your mind spinning, words repeating, every new hit adding to the already existing pain, and it wouldn't stop. You tried your best to breathe through it, like Mommy had taught you, but the thin wooden stick hurt more than you could have imagined. Your lungs ached with every sharp inhale. Eighteen, nineteen.

For the last one, she suddenly grabbed your hair and pulled you to your feet before she pressed you face-first into the wall, holding you by your nape. “Think about what you did and what you can do better. If you can't breathe through your attacks, I will use pain as a distraction again. Maybe it'll help you more than whatever Daddy does to you...” She paused, then said: “Twenty.”

The hit came with a sudden whoosh, and you screamed, jolting forward against the wall, legs shaking, your skin burning, tight and bruised and hurting. “Tw-twenty...” you croaked out, holding your breath, eyes squeezed shut, tears streaming down your face.

As her words echoed in your head, you had to give it to her: you were indeed distracted. The stinging pain spreading just beneath the inflamed skin of your buttocks was thrumming through you in an unrelenting fashion, scorching pulses that burned through any other concerns or thoughts or doubts, emptying your mind. You couldn't even pick up on the slight poke at Daddy's seemingly useless methods of helping you through your anxiety attacks. Nothing mattered: just the cleansing sharpness of Mommy's cane.

“Good. You took it like a big girl,” she said behind you, her hand easing down your back, hovering above your warm skin. “Better than I expected. Doesn't look too bad either. Now take a cold shower, it'll feel better.”

With that she exited your room, leaving you trembling. At least you'd stopped sobbing now. For a long moment, all you could do was lean against the wall, trying to calm your erratic heart. Your throat was dry, cold sweat made you shiver. Your focus was still on the burning welts on your skin, horribly pulsing streaks all across your butt cheeks. You remember them vividly as you'd eventually inspected them in the mirror.

The cold shower was another torture, but afterwards you did indeed feel better, clean, cleared of your doubts, knowing that Mommy was right. You needed and deserved every single hit for making such a mess, for breaking down about it. As cruel and cold as she had been, you saw reason in her actions. She had to know what she was doing, of course she did, she was your Mommy, she only wanted the best for you.

In her own way...

Looking back though, you have to agree with Daddy. It has been too much. 'That sounds a bit excessive for a simple act of clumsiness,' he'd said. It has been, but of course you hadn't told him everything. Not as detailed as you'd liked. The anxiety attack, the uncontrollable sobbing, the hysterics. The inevitable tumble into the dark abyss, unable to come back out on your own. Mommy's cleansing slap and those cane hits... they had helped, brought you back, but...

But it still has been too much. And it has been different too. Usually when she disciplines you (she always tries to avoid saying punishment because you're not being punished for being anxious but disciplined for falling back into old patterns and allowing the anxiety to control you again), when she uses pain as a distraction, she cuddles you after, tells you what a good girl you've been, makes sure you're okay, but that time... she has just left. Something has definitely fueled Mommy's anger.

Shifting under the covers, trying not to put pressure on your butt (though whatever Daddy has put on your skin did help a little), you listen a bit closer to the voices from across the hall (you shouldn't, but it's hard to ignore them too). They're loud, as is usually the case when Mommy fights with Daddy. She is the fiery one, while he is the calmer counterpart, though he can be angry too, and loud. This morning, they are both equally agitated.

“She was being hysterical!” Mommy screeches.

“And you think twenty fucking cane hits will help with that? That's not how we should deal with her anxiety!” Daddy says, more or less calmly, but you can hear the emotion in his voice through the walls.

“She was calmer after...”

“Of course she was! Because she was in pain!” He is getting louder.

And she is getting quieter, which only means she's getting more emotional. “She can handle it...”

“You overdid it. It was too much. Don't let your frustrations out on her...”

“I did not let my – Ugh! I can't do this right now...”

There's a pause, then a door opens and shuts with a bang. It opens again. Now the voices are directly in the hallway in front of your door. Daddy's voice is quieter.

“What's the real matter here, babe?”

“Nothing...” Mommy sounds defeated.

“You don't just snap like that. Tell me.”

“I just had a bad day, it happens...” You hear footsteps pacing the wooden floorboards.

“Not like that. What happened?”

“Nothing, it's fine. I'll apologize to her, okay?”

“Good. But I'm not done with you...” His tone changes, even quieter, softer, a little challenge behind the words. A smirk.

Mommy gives a soft laugh, a bit flat but there's the same smirk in her voice. “Later, papito...”

When one pair of footsteps leaves along the hallway, your door is being opened quietly. You press into the covers, pretending to sleep. Your mattress dips, a hand comes to rest on your hip.

“Rise and shine, pumpkin,” Daddy whispers, leaning over you to brush his lips against your temple, the only part of you peeking out from under the blanket.

You turn slightly, blinking your eyes open, giving him a tired smile. “Morning, Daddy,” you mumble. He smiles back and gives you another peck, slowly working his way down your face until he meets your lips. He's braced over you, hovering inches away, and you sigh softly into his kiss.

After he comforted you last night (by letting you come on his thigh), he'd washed you and himself with a warm wet cloth, then tucked you into bed and left, promising to talk to Mommy. He didn't seem to have gotten behind her unusual burst of anger, but you trusted him to dig deeper. All in good time.

“How do you feel?” he asks quietly, carefully rolling onto his side, cradling you in his arms.

“Better,” you whisper. Your butt still hurts, is tense and tight and throbbing, but it'll be okay. You're sure.

“Wanna make breakfast with me? I'll supervise, you work?” he mutters, nuzzling your neck. You nod with a soft giggle. “I think Mommy would like a nice smoothie. Should be easy enough, right?”

He helps you out of bed, picks a soft yellow sundress for you to wear (decides on a white lace thong that sits comfortably between your bruised ass cheeks), then brushes your hair and puts it into a long braid that falls down your back. He tells you to brush your teeth, and you do, and when you're done, he takes your hand and leads you down to the kitchen.

There he raids the fridge for fresh fruit and vegetables and gives them to you to chop up before he helps you pour it all into the blender with some oat milk. It's fun to do this with Daddy, standing next to him as he lets you hit the button, as you watch how everything turns into a rather unappealing green slush. After filling the thick drink into a tall glass, he puts a metal straw into it and holds it, then nods for you to follow him back up the stairs to Mommy's room.

Your heart beats faster when you approach the door. He stops and hands you the drink. “You can do this, pumpkin,” he tells you and leans down to kiss your cheek. “It'll be fine. Anyone can have a bad day, so we shouldn't hold a grudge, right?” You nod, looking up at him with a timid smile.

Then he raises his hand and knocks on the door. You flinch at the noise, inhaling sharply. “Come in,” you hear Mommy's voice through the wood.

Daddy gives you a gentle nudge, whispering “See you later, kiddo.”, and then you open the door and slip into her room. She's sitting at the large vanity, watching the door through the mirror, a brush in her hand, her long black hair cascading down her back.

“Good morning, Mommy,” you whisper a little intimidated. “I... I brought you breakfast...”

She turns around on her chair, watching you, before she gives you a soft smile. “Oh honey, that's so sweet of you, come here,” she says and holds out her hand.

You walk towards her, placing your hand onto her palm. She pulls you against her, taking the smoothie from your other hand and putting it down on the vanity. “Listen, sweetheart, Mommy is –”

“I'm sorry, Mommy,” you say at the same time, biting your lip. She smiles at you, her eyes crinkling softly.

“I know you are, baby girl,” she says. “But I am too. I shouldn't have disciplined you like that, it was too much. Mommy just had a bad day. I'm sorry for taking it out on you,” she adds quietly, wrapping her arms around you as she buries her face in your neck, inhaling deeply.

You hug her back, still a little stiff, perched between her legs. “I didn't mean to disappoint you,” you murmur into her.

She shushes you. “It's alright. Water under the bridge, okay?”

A hum escapes you, and for a moment you just stand there, holding her as she holds you, her warmth seeping into your stiff limbs. Eventually you take a deep breath, her sweet perfume filling your nostrils, before you tilt your head a bit to look at her.

“Mommy, I... I want to make you feel good, uh, better,” you say in a breathy whisper. “If you have time for it...”

She chuckles softly. “I always have time for you, sweet girl. Might be best to take the day off anyway.” She pauses, then sighs. “Well, I can stay home, but I have to work through my emails. But that shouldn't be an obstacle, right, kitten?” she whispers, then slowly leans you back fully and smirks at you.

You feel your cheeks burning up, already sensing a little throb in your core at the prospect of making her feel good. Her hands grab your waist and push you away gently, allowing her to stand up. You realize she's wearing a black silk robe (and only that), open in the front, giving you a good glance at her perfect breasts and her smooth mound. You force yourself to look up into her face.

“Come with me to my office,” she tells you and grabs your hand, taking the smoothie with the other, and then guides you into the adjacent room.

You've been here a few times before, usually perched under her desk, so the rest of the interior doesn't really matter to you. It's a bright room though, large windows, floor to ceiling, letting in the already warm rays of the morning sun. There are bookshelves lining one wall, and a wild array of other stuff in front of another. You always wondered what it is that Mommy does, aside from being a successful business woman and establishment owner.

She definitely has a lot of hobbies. There are mannequins, a sewing machine, an easel and a bunch of canvases stacked behind it. A low table with painting supplies. A camera in another high shelf next to large books probably filled with photographs. And then there's the corner you don't like to look at often, where the cane hangs from a hook, next to a flogger, a whip, a paddle and other tools like gags and harnesses and belts. Sleek black leather accentuated with wooden elements.

Mommy sure is a woman of many talents. But none of that matters to you now as she motions you to crawl under her desk, a large space made of a long wooden tabletop sitting on two drawer shelves, it's open enough to allow whoever enters the room to have a good view beneath. It's where you spent your time before, whenever she works from home and asks you to keep her company.

It's been a strange request at first, but seeing her relax due to your presence and ministrations is always something you're looking forward to. As you crawl under the table top, she puts the smoothie down next to her laptop and sits down in her chair. Despite her chaotic corner of numerous activities, her desk is surprisingly bare. No clutter, just a lamp, some pencils and a notepad, her laptop and phone on it.

You settle right in front of her, and she doesn't waste a second before she spreads her legs, her robe falling open even more as she gently guides you between them. Her warmth and scent radiates off her when you get closer to her center. She shifts on her chair, getting comfortable but allowing you to reach her just fine. Her hand remains on your head as she tilts it so you can rest your cheek on her thigh.

Looking up at her, you see her smiling, her eyes warm and already darker than usual. “You really wanna make me feel good, baby?” she whispers, watching you closely. You nod eagerly as you shift on your knees, the heels of your sock-clad feet poking into your rear. The pain and tightness of the welts is still there, but you can ignore them for now as you focus on the woman in front of you.

She leans back, opening her legs further, her hands resting casually on the armrests of her leather chair. Her eyes stay on you as you approach her core, your hands reaching up to caress her inner thighs. You hold her gaze, your face already flushed from what lies ahead. Swallowing the excess saliva gathering on your tongue (your oral fixation flaring up), you lean in and up and press your lips to her flat stomach, slowly working your way lower.

She's calm, watching you closely, and eventually you break eye contact and close your eyes, focusing on kissing along her pelvis and down her smooth mound, going by feel and warmth alone. Your hands move around her waist as you settle between her legs, holding onto her as you bury your face in her sex. There's a slight shiver when your tongue teases along her slit, your lips brushing against hers, so soft and warm.

You pepper her labia with kisses, tilting your head slightly before you ease your tongue between them, dipping into her slick. Breathing into her, her scent filling your nostrils, you feel more little twitches, her thighs pressing slightly against your sides. You retrieve your arms and rub your palms against them, noticing the hint of goosebumps on her skin as you continue licking up and around her lower lips.

When you press your tongue against her hooded clit, she gives a soft little moan, enough encouragement to keep going, to dig deeper, to kiss and lick and nibble on her soft flesh until you feel her clit throbbing against your lips. You keep your focus on the sensitive bundle of nerves, flicking your tongue against it, closing your mouth around it, sucking it hard, and she grows more vocal, her hips jerking against your face.

She taught you early on how to properly satisfy a woman, not always on herself, teaching you about your own body as well. As awkward and embarrassing as it had been in the beginning, you are grateful to know what you know now, and you find pride in being able to get her off this easily. It only takes a few concentrated licks and nibbles, a bit of teeth grazing and a pointed tongue prod, and she is shaking in her seat, thrashing her head back as she claws at the armrests, loud moans echoing through the room.

Her first orgasm comes in waves, twitches of her thighs, her cunt pulsing against your chin as you keep sucking on her clit. You look up then, watching her come undone in front of you, under your ministrations. It sends deep shudders down your own body, settling low in your stomach, a throb to your own clit as you stimulate Mommy's.

You keep going, because she'd usually tell you when to stop, and it takes more than one orgasm for her to be fully satisfied. With your hands rubbing over her trembling legs, your mouth suctioned to her throbbing clit, you watch her, waiting for any indication, any hint of what she wants now. She's breathing harder when she meets your gaze, red spots on her cheeks, her bare chest rising and falling faster.

One of her hands moves down to your head, caressing your hair, playing with the braid. She doesn't say anything, just gives the tiniest of nudges, and you follow the hint and move from her clit down to her slit. She's a lot wetter now, and you lap up every drop you come across, savoring the sweet taste as you move your tongue between her labia, teasing at her entrance, the little flutter to her cunt not going by unnoticed.

You take long strokes from her hole to her sensitive bud, filling your mouth with her taste and essence, feeling her clit thrum and her cunt clench. Tilting your head down, closing your eyes, you press firmer against her, her labia enveloping your cheeks as you push the tip of your tongue against her entrance. She mewls softly, the hand in your hair tightening, as you start pushing your tongue in and out in quick succession, moving the muscle up and down, creating obscene squelching and slurping sounds that ring loudly in your ears, a motion she's taught you, shown you, done to you so many times.

You feel the drop of your own arousal in your underwear, your body tensing as you focus on the reactions of hers. With your tongue buried in her pulsing pussy, you use your nose to push against her clit in a steady rhythm, your whole face warm and wet by now as she clenches around you. Your hands curl around her legs, trying to hold them open, but she's twitching so hard you feel the tremors against the sides of your head as she tries to close her thighs around it.

It doesn't matter, you're in too deep, literally, only focused on her pleasure, her pleasure giving you pleasure, she could smother you right that instant and you wouldn't mind. Your head is blissfully empty, all you feel and taste and see and hear is her. She's getting louder, shifting on her chair, grinding her pelvis against your face as she fucks herself on your tongue, harder, faster, a desperate little dance you volunteered for.

And when she comes, she throws herself back into the chair, gasping breathlessly, her whole body spasming against you, thighs tight against your ears, taking another sense from you as you almost drown in her juices. Her cunt clenches hard around your working muscle, and you slowly pull your tongue out when she relaxes, lapping up what she gave you. You savor the little twitches, the uncontrollable jerks of her hips, the deep exhales from above you.

As you're still licking at her slit, she moves her hands to brush stray hairs out of her damp forehead. You look up at her, lips closed around her clit, when she smiles at you. “Well done, sweet girl, thank you,” she whispers, her voice hoarse and raspy, the low cadence sending shivers down your spine. “That's enough for now.”

You lean back almost reluctantly, licking your wet lips, blinking your clumped eyelashes apart. You feel her hand wiping at your face, her thumb pressing into your mouth. You give it a tentative suck, your eyes on her. She looks calm again, relaxed, serene.

“Mommy's gotta work now,” she tells you, pushing her thumb harder onto your tongue. “Do you wanna stay with me while I do?”

You don't even hesitate when you nod, your hands finding her wrist as you suck on her thumb, the motion pulling you deeper into the safe space you enjoy so much.

“Do you want a toy to play with?” she asks, your mind momentarily wandering to the lowest drawer of her desk, filled with vibrators and dildos and smaller items to entertain you (and her). It's a tempting thought, but you shake your head, hollowing your cheeks as you give her digit another deep suckle.

She chuckles softly. “But I do need my hand, sweet pea,” she says with a raised eyebrow and a wink.

You blink at her, your mind too empty to comprehend her words. She caresses your face, then slowly withdraws her thumb. You're at least alert enough to lick up the excess drool dripping from your now unoccupied lips. Swallowing hard, you look at her, but she already knows the empty gaze you shoot her and guides your head back between her legs.

“Keep me warm and wet, hmm, baby girl? Can you do that?” she says softly, and you nod, already pressing your lips against her throbbing clit. “But don't make me come. I gotta concentrate.”

“Okay, Mommy,” you mumble against her, leaning your cheek against her thigh as you inhale deeply, taking in her scent. She closes her legs a little around you, caging you in, holding you tightly, and you melt into her, eyes fluttering closed.

“Good girl,” she says, patting your head before she shifts on her chair one last time. Her praise almost drowns out the quiet noises of her fingers flying over the keyboard as she starts working.

You relax into her, sitting on your knees, the hurt on your butt forgotten, the drying wetness on your face ignored, the tingle between your own legs unimportant. Occasionally you give her labia a few kisses or a gentle suck, licking up along her seam, but as your mind grows silent, you slip more and more into what Mommy and Daddy call subspace, a state of mind where there are no worries, where you're not anxious, where nothing matters but the warmth of the person next to you.

It's a peaceful place where you lose all sense of time. Snuggling into Mommy's cunt or suckling on Daddy's cock, no matter where or how or when, it's your personal reward for making them feel good, for allowing yourself to let go, an escape you wished you'd known about sooner. But now you do, and it's enough. A beautiful, blissful void, and you're floating, weightless, soft breaths and a steady heartbeat, sunken into yourself.

How you come out of it is usually a blur. A gentle caress to your cheek, a little nudge, some sort of physical touch that grounds you back to the place you've initially drifted off in. A deep exhale against warm skin, your cheek pressed between wet flesh, your own thumb wet and numb between your tight lips. Your eyelids flutter when you feel another caress, nimble fingers digging into your hair, soft presses to your scalp, a soothing little hum you slowly recognize as Mommy's voice.

“Wake up, mi amor,” she whispers from above you, her accent an extra vibration through your skull.

You inhale deeply, smacking your lips, or trying to, slowly lowering your hand as you blink your eyes open. Mommy's cunt is right there, soft and sleek, and it's an instinct to raise your hand again and caress her puffy labia.

“No need, sweet cheeks,” she tells you, but you keep pushing your fingers up and down her mound, head resting against her thigh, watching the lazy movements of your digits.

Mommy sighs loudly, but doesn't do anything to stop you after all. So you continue, dip your fingertips into her slick, teasing at her clit, as she relaxes into her chair, her hand stroking the side of your head. You rub and caress, prod and poke, eventually pushing a finger into her entrance, feeling the tight clench of her walls. Her soft mewls sound in your ears, when a sudden knock disrupts the peace, making you blink and realize you're knuckles-deep in Mommy's cunt.

Mommy just issues a noise akin to a sigh or groan, and the door to her office opens. You remain focused on her, plunging your digit in and out, curling it slightly, rubbing the pad of your finger along her squishy flesh until you feel her twitching against you.

“Is she still at it?” Daddy's voice sounds from somewhere behind you.

“She just came back,” Mommy whispers, her voice just a deep breath. “You know how she gets after, the insatiable little thing...”

You don't really register what they're saying, doesn't matter, all you see and feel and smell is Mommy. You add another finger and continue your motions, pushing in slightly faster, slightly deeper, pressing harder against her sensitive spots. She shifts in her seat, her hips bucking against your hand, her breaths more labored.

Footsteps round the desk, and as you blink against your haze, you notice Daddy's head next to Mommy's. He winks at you before he presses his lips to her cheek. She turns her head and uses her free hand to grab his nape, keeping him bent over to capture his mouth for a deeper kiss. “So you like me again, hm?” Daddy hums against her, and instead of answering him, she just kisses him harder.

You watch them as you finger Mommy, her wetness rivaling your own as they continue to make out. You squirm on your knees, chewing on your swollen lip, your fingers moving in and out of Mommy's clenching hole, and fueled by their soft groans and moans, you dive in again and close your lips around that throbbing bundle of nerves in front of you.

Mommy gasps, jerking against your face, and you keep watching her from under your lashes. Daddy holds her face while propped onto one arm, resting on the table above you. The way their lips and tongues meet is a sensual dance you enjoy watching more and more (which wasn't always the case). Now it only arouses you more, seeing them so intimate.

With your mouth tight around Mommy's clit and your fingers deep in her spasming cunt, you shift on your knees until you can press the heel of your foot against your own throbbing core, the sudden sensation making you moan softly. You keep a steady rhythm, dipping your fingers in and out, sucking on her clit, rubbing yourself against your foot, feeling how your arousal drenches the fabric of your panties, creating a delicious friction that makes your empty head spin.

You come at the same time as Mommy, though while your orgasm rolls through you like a gentle wave, hers is a ravaging waterfall, cascading down with power, and as you keep pumping your fingers into her, her cunt convulses, spraying you with jerky jets of her essence as she moans loudly above you, barely contained by Daddy's mouth, and even though you were quite irritated the first time she's squirted right into your face, you barely flinch now, lowering your mouth to lick up everything you can catch.

She shudders on the chair, slowly relaxing, and it's Daddy who appears next to you as he pulls you away from her quivering core. Her chair rolls away, and he kneels beside you, wiping a cloth over your drenched face.

“Well done, pumpkin,” he says softly, smiling at you. You blink your eyes into focus, your lips trembling without Mommy's warmth against them. “I think Mommy feels a lot better now, don't you, babe?”

A soft groan sounds from behind him in response. “Oh yeah...” she sighs.

“You earned yourself a reward, baby girl,” Daddy whispers, as he helps you crawl out from under the desk.

When you stand, he has to hold you, because your legs feel numb and tingling, fallen asleep from sitting on them for so long. The aftershocks of your own orgasm definitely add to the little unsteadiness as well. His hands cup your warm face as he looks down at you. You still feel like floating, head too empty to fully focus on him or the change of position.

A slurping sound echoes in your ears, and when you look past him, you see Mommy closing her lips around the straw in her smoothie. She winks at you when you meet her hooded gaze. Slowly you come back to yourself, a soothing warmth flooding your limbs and core. Daddy pulls you to the side, and you notice him sitting down on the edge of the wide desk, his hands on your waist as he nudges you between his legs.

“You with me, pumpkin?” he says softly, tilting his head.

You look up at him, your hands resting on his strong thighs. “Yes, Daddy,” you whisper, giving him a timid smile.

“My good girl.”

He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek, before you tilt your chin up a bit more to meet his lips. As he moves his tongue against yours, slowly, sensually, you feel a presence behind you. Mommy's hands rub up and down your back, smoothing out your dress, before they disappear under the hem, and you gasp against Daddy's mouth when you feel her fingers hooking under the waistband of your panties.

She pulls them down slowly, crouching behind you, and you lift your feet automatically to step out of them. “Hmm, you enjoyed yourself already, didn't you, sweet girl?” she muses, leaning against you after she's straightened up again, her firm breasts pressing against your back.

Without breaking your kiss with Daddy, you move your eyes to see her dangling your drenched underwear on her finger. Heat crashes into your cheeks, slowly seeping down your body, and the arousal that's been draining into the bit of fabric of your thong, now drips out of you unrestrained. A garbled mewl escapes you as you rub your thighs together and squirm on the spot.

“Oh don't worry, darling, Daddy's gonna take care of the little itch, hmm, won't you, papito?”

Her voice is silky smooth in your ear, letting your eyelids flutter as your tongue wrestles softly with Daddy's. He watches you out of hooded eyes, his grip on you firm and strong, unrelenting. With Mommy still pressed against your back, sandwiched between them as you are, you feel her hands rubbing down your arms before she guides your hands between Daddy's legs, right to the not-so-subtle bulge in his pants.

He finally breaks the kiss, moves his lips along your cheek to your ear, his beard scratching along your soft skin, causing you to take a shuddering breath as you fill your lungs with air again. “Are you ready for me, pumpkin?” he breathes against the shell of your ear, his lips warm and wet, his breath even warmer. You shiver, and before you can answer, Mommy's hand slips around your front and down between your tight thighs, dipping right into your slick.

“Oh she's ready alright...”

“I've been asking her,” he says sternly, still nuzzling your neck, but clearly addressing Mommy, who sighs loudly and pulls her hand back.

You turn your head to look at him, biting your swollen lip, before you nod.

“Say it,” he whispers, meeting your eyes.

“I'm ready for you, Daddy,” you reply quietly. He raises an eyebrow.

You blush deeply, knowing what he wants to hear. Swallowing hard, you look down to where your hand is resting on his groin. “I'm... ready for your...” Another deep inhale, that flicker of shame rolling through your mind before you push it away again. “Your cock,” you whisper.

You look up at him, but he still watches you with a certain expectation, his eyes dark, his jaw set.

“I'm ready for your cock, Daddy,” you say again, still quiet, but it's finally enough for him. A smile breaks on his handsome face, and he leans in to kiss your cheek.

“Good girl,” he says softly. “Do you think I'm ready for you too?”

You give his bulge a little squeeze, feeling the hardness beneath the fabric. “Yes, I think so,” you whisper.

“Let's find out, hm?”

He gives you a wink, and you start unbuckling his belt, then fumble with the button and zipper of his pants. Mommy is there, leaning in from behind you, helping with the task. Daddy stands for a moment and lets his two women pull his pants and underwear down his long legs before he sits down on the edge of the desk again. Mommy leaves you as she gathers his clothes on the back of her chair.

You look up at his face instead of at his angrily bobbing cock, mesmerized by the hunger in his eyes. His hands tighten around your waist, and in the next moment he lifts you effortlessly, and you end up straddling his lap, knees on either side of his hips, legs spread (almost) impossibly wide over his thighs, your crotch pressed tightly against his. Your hands find his shoulders as you adjust on his lap.

“Dress off?” you hear Mommy's voice from behind you.

“Hmm, what do you think, baby girl? Do you want Daddy to see how you bounce on his cock? How your little cunt swallows every inch of him?”

You inhale sharply, deep shivers crashing through you as he talks like this. “Yes,” you breathe out, and as soon as you do, Mommy's hands are there to pull the sundress over your head. Without it, you are left completely naked because he's (deliberately) forgotten to put a bra on you this morning. A tingle goes through you.

You shift on his lap, fingers curling around his broad shoulders again. He watches you, his hands rubbing along your sides before he puts them large and warm and heavy on your waist, his long fingers almost teasing your spine while his thumbs rub over your fluttering stomach. Behind you, another set of hands eases along your thighs back to your rear, and when Mommy touches the welts on your ass cheeks, you feel her lips brushing against your shoulder.

“I'm sorry, mi amor,” she coos. “I thought it wouldn't look so bad. Does it still hurt?”

You meet Daddy's gaze before you turn your head and try to look at her out of the corner of your eye. “It's okay, Mommy, it's already feeling better.”

“My brave little girl,” she whispers, planting more kisses along your back while her hands fully cup your ass now, the pressure sending jolts of pain through you but you force them down, try to ignore them as you bite your lip and take a shuddering breath.

“Look at me, pumpkin,” Daddy orders, and you do, stiffening on his lap. “This is for you,” he starts, his hands holding onto your waist as Mommy lifts your hips until you hover just above Daddy's cock. “You take what you need from me, okay? You decide the pace. Me and Mommy will do anything to take care of you.”

You smile softly at him, bracing on your knees, your thighs trembling slightly, your hands digging into his shoulders. “Thank you, Daddy,” you whisper.

“Thank you, sweetheart, for being such a good little girl for us,” he replies, tilting his head as you squirm slightly on top of him, the tip of his cock brushing between your labia as you do so.

Before you can fully focus on indulging him (or letting him indulge you?), a last speck of doubt crashes into your mind. You blink at him, lips trembling, opening your mouth to protest, knowing you haven't been a good girl at all yesterday and have the marks to prove it, but he shakes his head, his dark eyes so intense any words dissipate right off your tongue. You close your mouth and swallow, nodding slightly.

And then you concentrate on him, looking down as one of your hands moves to close around his shaft as you guide him towards your entrance. It's taken you many months to get accustomed to his length and girth, a lot of training, a lot of tears, but by now you know that your body can handle him. Inhaling deeply, relaxing while also bracing yourself, you shift your hips (with Mommy's assistance) and lower yourself slowly, his tip pressing in, and with a sharp gasp you feel him slipping deeper.

They both guide you as you take it slow, steady up and down movements to ease him into you, small rolls of your hips, Mommy holding you from behind, Daddy's hands tight around your waist. He watches you, you can feel it as you focus on where his cock vanishes inside you. The strain and pressure is still a bit painful, especially since you let gravity do most of the work, but once he's settled deep in your core, filling you out completely, his tip pushing right against your cervix, you exhale a shaky breath and look up, seeing him smiling at you.

Mommy wraps her arms around your stomach, her warm cheek between your shoulder blades, allowing Daddy to cup your face and pull you closer. “Look at you,” he coos softly, leaning in to brush his nose against yours. “How wonderful you fit around Daddy's cock. You were made for this, pumpkin. Made for me. My perfect little girl.”

You close your eyes, breathing against the tightness building low in your belly, your hands moving back up to his shoulders before you wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face in the crook of it. You focus on the way he smells, how his large hands cradle your head against him, how Mommy clings to you, their warmth all-consuming. And the way his cock sits inside you, warm and hard and pulsing, how another kind of heat throbs through your straining ass cheeks.

And you realize it is all meant to be. You are meant to have relapses, you are meant to be anxious sometimes, you are meant to disappoint them, it's only human to do so. What matters in the end is that they still love you, still care about you, still treat you like their little girl. They'll continue to discipline you, push you further and further out of your comfort zone, and it will only make you stronger.

As you start moving on top of Daddy, leaning back, facing him, using his shoulders as leverage to bounce slowly up and down, you can't believe how lucky you are to have found these people (or for them to have found you). All they ever did was take care of you, in a way nobody has ever cared for you before.

Warmth spreads inside you with every slam against his hips, your walls pulsing around him, your breaths hitching, your heart beating faster. Mommy guides you, Daddy holds you, their soft words of praise and encouragement like lullabies in your ears, your own mewls and moans leaving your trembling lips in rapid little puffs of air.

Your thighs are shivering under the strain, but it's easier with Mommy's hands under your rear, pushing you up gently, while Daddy moves you down again, every bounce going deep, filling and all-consuming, and soon you find yourself floating, the friction, the steady pain/pleasure mixture, the warmth and strength of their grips, it all adds to the flickering lights, and when they suddenly all explode into a million smaller lights, you throw your head back, letting out a drawn-out moan, a deep shiver, stiffening for a second before your body starts shaking badly as your orgasm crashes through you.

You slump against Daddy's chest, arms around his neck, your hips jerking against him, and now it's up to him to keep going. His arms are tight around your back as he shifts on the edge of the desk, Mommy's hands move around your front, rubbing down your fluttering belly before you feel her fingertips drawing tight circles around your clit. You come again, with another croaked moan, spasming against Daddy as he starts thrusting up in a steady rhythm that accelerates quickly.

Sandwiched as you are, you can only take it, and you do, it's what you do after all, you are theirs to play with, and it gives you strength and pride, a safety you need to keep your mind empty and your thoughts clear of doubts. Whimpering softly as Daddy hammers his cock into your convulsing cunt while Mommy practically bullies your clit, you slip from pleasure into bliss and back, always floating, wave after wave of soothing sensations rolling through your trembling body.

Low grunts fill your ears, Daddy's deep voice vibrating through you as he suddenly stills, holding you tighter, throbbing deep inside you before he empties his balls into your quivering depths. You gasp into his neck, feeling every twitch of his cock, knowing he's painting your walls with thick ropes of his cum. You relax into him as he relaxes beneath you, his warm breaths playing with stray strands of your hair.

You rub his back as Mommy rubs yours. For a long moment you just sit on his cock until it stops throbbing and softens slightly, the only sounds your rapid pulse in your ears and your combined breaths, before it's Mommy, who brings you back to reality. “Thanks for the show, you two,” she says as she walks around you. “I think I need a cold shower now.” You feel her hand rubbing along your ass cheek before she gives it a soft slap.

You jerk against Daddy, who groans, unfolding his arms from around you to lean them onto the table beside him. He inhales deeply, and slowly you lean back too, looking at him, knowing you probably look as disheveled as you feel. He smirks at you, moving one hand to brush a few hairs out of your sweat-slick forehead.

It hasn't always been this easy to let go and look the part and not be ashamed about it, but you learned to ignore it and enjoy the moment instead, the aftermath, the soft caresses and soothing words and gentle smiles enough to distract you. You lean in and press a kiss to his bearded cheek, savoring the scratch against your lips and the little hum he issues at the touch. He cups your face, thumb under your chin, and guides your head to meet his mouth for a proper kiss.

“Are you okay, pumpkin?” he whispers against your lips, his hooded eyes boring into yours.

You nod, leaning into him, shifting on his lap. “Yes, Daddy, never better,” you breathe, moving in again, and he lets you, a smirk playing around his lips.

You haven't always been as confident with him (or Mommy) as you are now. It's been a long, winding road, over potholes and embarrassment, around bends and back in a loop towards old patterns, up steep hills and down rough slopes, through shame and discipline, hurt and comfort. A journey that started in darkness, before these two people showed you just how bright life could be.

Chapter 2 🔷️ Chapter 3 🔷️ Chapter 4

End notes: For now, this marks the end of the present-timeline, which was just a peek at what's possible within the confines of this story. Starting with the next chapter, we will continue the backstory arc, and Reader's journey into the world of BDSM and specifically Dd/Md/lg dynamics.

Thank you for reading! New chapter every Saturday!

Up next: After you agreed to be their little girl, you're starting your first day in your new life. Surprises await!

MASTERLIST 🔷️ AO3 🔷️ ORIGINAL WORKS

[writhyv]

⋆｡°✩ jake pulls you into a kissing booth

would you kiss me? | sim jaehyun x male!reader

pairing: jake x male!reader genre: fluff words: 1.8k notes: my first jake fic! honestly wanted to write about him for a long time because he's one of the first guys i saw from enha ... he just has that hot popular kid vibe ... i HAD to make this ... AAAAA ALSO SHOUOUT TO @kaiyunsim! THIS ONE'S FOR YA BRUH

Your days at school began like any other student's. Each day was a repetitive cycle of subjects you had to endure until the semester ended. You had memorized these lessons long ago, yet still found yourself sitting in class, trying to absorb the material. It was exhausting, but deep down, you loved the thrill of academics. School was a place of peace for you, a welcome escape from home, which felt far away. It was a place you cherished, filled with the laughter of friends and the buzz of youthful dreams.

However, if you could choose to be anywhere else, it certainly wouldn't be your school, especially not during the school's founding celebration fair. To make matters worse, your friend had signed you up to help out at your class's assigned booth — the kissing booth.

You rested your head against your hand, manning the busy booth with an aloof gaze. It wasn't that you disliked helping; it was just that you hadn’t volunteered for this. You watched the chaos unfold around you, the energy of the fair buzzing like a live wire. Everywhere you looked, students were laughing, playing games, and enjoying the festivities. But here you were, stationed at the kissing booth, a reluctant participant in this social spectacle.

"Thanks again for helping out!" a classmate chimed in, trying to lift your spirits. His bright smile was infectious, but you only managed a half-hearted nod.

"Ugh... it’s not like I had a choice. Joey signed me up before I could protest," you replied, rolling your eyes.

"Joey did? She's a riot!" your classmate laughed nervously, glancing at you. Your glare silenced him. "Oh! I mean... she's just so... um, enthusiastic, right?"

"It’s for fun!" Joey interjected, crashing into the conversation, her energy palpable. The other student bolted away as if he had just seen a ghost.

"Aren't you allowed to have fun, Mr. President?" Joey turned her gaze to you as she held her hands onto your shoulders.

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. Making friends in high school was challenging enough, but when people clung to you like they were your lifeline, things got complicated. Joey had always stuck to you like glue. As you grew to tolerate her presence, she introduced you to 'normal high school things'—experiences you had only read about in books or seen in movies. You felt like you could only refuse her so many times before she'd throw a tantrum.

"Again, it's ACTING president. I've only been called that since the new semester started, okay?" you corrected her, a hint of frustration creeping into your voice.

"Yeah, right. You'll definitely win again if you ever run. It’s your calling!" she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"That’s why I can't be here," you said, standing up, feeling the weight of tiredness settling on your shoulders.

Joey grabbed your arm, pulling you back down. You knew this would happen, but it never hurt to try and escape, right?

"Hey! Not again!" she sighed, exasperated. "You've only been here for two hours! I promised you food, right? Just help out at the booth."

You shot her a glare but couldn't keep the corners of your mouth from twitching upward. "Fine, but I can’t promise I won’t try to escape again. It’s exhausting watching people come in and out of this booth."

Joey looked where you pointed, a smirk growing on her face. "Why? Curious about what happens there?"

You shot her an incredulous look, but she only saw the red flush creeping across your cheeks.

"What?" she defended, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Ding ding ding?"

"No one’s interested!" you exclaimed, covering your face in embarrassment. Joey just laughed, the sound ringing like music in the chaos around you.

"Sure! It isn’t a big deal. Not at all~" she sang, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit of warmth at her playful attitude.

As you chatted with Joey, a commotion erupted nearby, followed by a wave of cheers.

"Aahh! It's the soccer team!"

"The boys! The boys!"

The crowd erupted as the campus soccer team made their entrance, radiating an undeniable charm. With their impressive recent state champion title win for the nth time, and their unrealistic and striking looks, they were the stars of the event. You could see the excitement in the air, students gushing over their favorite players, the thrill of being close to someone so admired.

One of them, clearly the leader, locked eyes with you and bit his lip. "Hey~" he called out, confidence radiating like a warm sun on a cold day, having brushed his hair back, a gesture that seemed to send the crowd into a frenzy.

You blinked, looking to your side. "Uh... who are you talking to?" You felt your heart race, unsure if he was really addressing you. "Me?"

The guy grinned, stepping closer, and you could feel the heat radiating from him. "Oh definitely. You're really adorable up close, huh?"

You rolled your eyes, convinced this must be one of those pranks online. But he didn’t back down; instead, he moved closer to your ticket table, his presence both thrilling and intimidating.

"Ahem ... To purchase a ticket for the booth, please ensure you have your partner with you. All pairs come first," you stated, reading the fine print from the paper in your hands, trying to maintain your composure.

"Good then." He flashed you his ID. "Jake Sim."

"Jake Sim," you repeated, scribbling his name down. "Who would you be taking to the kissing booth?"

You looked behind him as his members stood still. "One of them?" You snickered.

"Kissing booth?" Jake's eyes widened in surprise, who seemingly haven't heard you talk for that second. "This isn't just a regular dating booth?"

You sighed, feeling an exasperated laugh bubble up. Of course, it isn't. The dating booth idea was scrapped due to budget constraints, leaving this more intimate alternative. There wasn't anything you can do at that point, even though you were the council's ACTING president.

"Yes."

"Shoot..." Jake checked his breath, a sudden look of concern washing over his face. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his sudden panic.

You laughed lightly. "Mint?"

He shot you a look, as if to say don’t look at me right now.

"Huh? I'm good!" he declared, spraying some fresh mist into his mouth. "See? Nothing happened." he smirked, spreading his arms wide, clearly trying to charm you.

"I still can't give you a ticket," you replied firmly, crossing your arms.

"Why?" he pressed, a playful challenge in his eyes.

"You have no partner—"

"I can take you with me, can't I?" he cut in, blunt and straightforward, his eagerness palpable.

It felt as if time had frozen. He looked at you with eager anticipation, and you could only respond with confusion, your heart fluttering unexpectedly.

"Me?" you stammered, flustered. "You can't possibly think of me as—"

Suddenly, you heard a whirlwind of chaos behind you, like a storm brewing in your booth.

"Two dollars, and he's yours!" Joey shouted, tossing you toward Jake with a mischievous grin.

"That's more like it!" Jake said, handing over the bills to Joey and waving goodbye as he led you toward the booth.

"Thank you for the donation!" Joey called after you, her voice fading as you felt your heart racing faster than ever.

"Two dollars?!" you exclaimed, shooting a death glare at Joey, who simply smiled and waved goodbye, leaving you feeling wronged yet slightly amused.

"Trust me! You’re worth more than that!" she whispered dramatically, retreating into the crowd.

You felt your blood boil at the suddenness of it all, yet something else stopped you in your tracks. It was as if time had paused again, leaving only the two of you in this moment filled with tension and unspoken words.

"This is ridiculous," you mumbled, avoiding Jake's gaze. Beads of sweat trickled down your forehead, and you wiped them away with your hands, feeling the heat of embarrassment creeping up.

Jake laughed, drawing closer, his presence overwhelming and oddly comforting.

"What?" You looked at him.

"I'm just trying to understand why you don’t want me kissing you," he said with that playful grin that made your heart skip a beat. "I mean, everybody wants a piece of me."

So bold?! You rolled your eyes at his audacity. "What an airhead you are..."

Airhead? I thought people liked confident guys. Jake pondered, trying to maintain his charming facade.

"Heh. Am I an airhead?" he scoffed, a playful smirk on his face. "Isn’t it just because I know what I like?"

"Ugh." You mimicked your friend's signature sassy move. "Do NOT tell me that."

Am I already screwing this up? Jake’s mind raced, unable to keep up with his facade crumbling under the pressure.

"Can’t we just enjoy this moment between us, babe?" Jake said, leaning in and pressing his hands beside your head. Your eyes widened in shock, and you felt your heart hammering in your chest.

That's it, look flustered… please? Jake thought desperately, a hint of vulnerability breaking through his bravado.

You stared at him, disbelief washing over you. He was already making a move with something as cringeworthy as this? And calling you by such a boring pet name? You couldn't even imagine the other ridiculous things he might do. Maybe he would—

KISS YOU?! In a blink, his lips met yours, soft as a cloud brushing against your skin.

In that instant, something snapped within you. You tried to push him away, but he only deepened the kiss, and you felt something strange sliding between your mouths.

"Hey!" you exclaimed, trying to pull away.

"What—"

"A tongue?!" you gasped, staring at him, bewildered. Jake chuckled, clearly enjoying your reaction, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"What? I’m not doing anything," he smirked, knowing full well what he was doing.

"You snuck that devilish tip of your tongue into my mouth!" you accused, covering your face as heat rushed to your cheeks, embarrassment flooding your senses.

"Oh come on, you liked it," Jake teased, his confidence unwavering.

Did you? He wondered, feeling a mix of hope and doubt.

"That’s it! You had your time!" you declared, storming away, embarrassed and flustered. "Enjoy, then get lost!"

As you walked away, you shot one last glance over your shoulder, throwing out something Jake never thought he’d hear directed at him.

"Weirdo..." you muttered, shaking your head in disbelief, a mixture of confusion and exhilaration swirling inside you.

Jake stood there, feeling like a lost puppy searching for its owner. The thrill of the kiss lingered on his lips, but the sting of embarrassment washed over him.

Somewhere on campus, you could almost hear his loud screams of agony.

His friends rushed over, concern etched on their faces. "Hey, Jake!" a couple of teammates called, finding their captain lying on the ground, kicking his feet in shame.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!" Jake screamed again, all his efforts feeling wasted, his face buried in his hands as if he could hide from the world.

"Oh my god, he’s breaking down..." Joey remarked, stepping into the booth. She quickly closed the curtains, glancing at the curious onlookers, knowing too well the rumors that would fly around.

"Shh! People will get the wrong idea about our booth! This is NOT a screamo booth; the main stage is down by the garden pavilion."

Jake grabbed one of his larger teammates, his eyes wide with despair. "He looked at me like I was DIRTY!!!" he cried, trying to wipe away his tears, but failing miserably.

"Are you ... crying?!" Joey exclaimed, her eyes wide in disbelief.

"Yes, I’m crying!" Jake declared, wiping his face in a panic, his emotions spilling over.

"Captain, your image—"

"Who cares!" Jake slumped back down, defeated. "He probably thinks I’m a loser at this point... What gives?"

A heavy silence blanketed the booth, the weight of the moment pressing down on him.

"It’s not like it’s the last chance you’ll ever get, you know cap?" one teammate said, trying to console him, though the words felt hollow in the air.

"But..." Jake murmured, his confidence wavering.

Another teammate stood up, raising his fist in determination. "You’re Jake Sim, our all-powerful soccer team captain! You can do anything!"

Jake slowly lifted his gaze, intrigued by their words, the fire within him beginning to reignite.

"And you can make up for it!" his teammates urged. "Then you’ll get that chance!"

He considered his situation. If he could somehow make up for what he did with you, it would earn him some serious brownie points, right? Maybe then he'd finally get the chance to ask you out.

"Okay!" Jake declared, standing tall and raising his fist triumphantly. "I’ll try better this time!"

"That’s the spirit, Captain Jake!" his teammates cheered, ending with a loud burst of laughter, their camaraderie lifting his spirits.

"Ugh... you guys are hopeless." Joey facepalmed, shaking her head in disbelief as she tried to suppress a smile. "Whatever... that’s not my business..."

As the fair continued around them, Jake felt a newfound determination swell within him. He couldn't let this moment define him; he had to make things right. With a deep breath, he plotted his next move, ready to win you over, one awkward attempt at a time.

I really wanted to make Jake someone who tries too hard to get someone's attention, only making himself a pitiful sack of potatoes by the end of the ordeal. DONT WORRY he should be able to get the guy right ...right?!

hope you guys enjoyed it! please like, comment, or reblog~

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made by writhyv.

[un-fwuit-un-fwog]

Request: Hello!! Good morning/afternoon/evening/night. I would like to request platonicDad! Lilia vanrouge headcanons please! If you do do this tysm!!

Hi! Good morning, afternoon, evening, or night to you too! Thank you so much for the request! I wasn't sure if you wanted biological daughter or adopted daughter so I'm doing adopted. If that's not what you wanted just tell me and I'll do a bio one too!

!Platonic!Dad! Lilia Vanrouge x Adopted Daughter

Lilia found you on his doorstep mere days after he took Silver in. He was still a bit iffy on the whole 'raising a human child' thing so at first he had planned to take you off to a human village and leave you on someone else's doorstep there. However, when he found you it was night and he thought it would be best to wait until morning to make the trek so that night you stayed in the Vanrouge cottage.

You were laid on a blanket on the ground next to Silver (he didn't have a crib yet) to sleep. The blanket rested a few feet away from Lilia's bed so he could keep an eye on Silver, and now you as well, without accidentally stepping on the two of you when he gets up at night.

Contrasting to how he found you on his doorstep, wailing and crying, you stayed perfectly silent the whole night. It took him a moment after he woke up to realize the lack of crying, but when he did he freaked out thinking you'd somehow made it out of the room and possibly even out of the house. He immediately sprung out of bed: whipping his head around frantically.

That's when he saw it. On the blanket, huddled together, were you and Silver. He stumbled over to the two of you, the adrenaline quickly fading from his body, before collapsing onto his knees. Breathing a sigh of relief he reached out to brush a small, wispy strand of hair out of your face. He knew he had no right to freak out since he was planning to hand you off later that day, but he couldn't help it. It was the 'new father' instincts (or so he told himself).

Right as Lilia was about to get up to prepare a basket and note he was stopped by a tiny little hand wrapping around one of his fingers. He looked down to see you smiling sleepily and gripping his index finger with one of your chubby baby hands.

He didn't end up handing you off that day.

When Lilia rarely decides he's going to let someone into his life he loves and cherishes them like they're the very thing that keeps him going and you're no exception.

As Lilia raises you alongside Silver he makes sure you never feel out of place in the home.

That means he makes sure to quadruple his cooking just to make sure everyone has enough to eat and can still have extras :) (How the two of you lived only the sevens know).

If you're like Silver and say you want to become knight, he'll start training you to become one. However, whether you say that or not, you're at least getting self-defense training.

I don't see Lilia being one of those overprotective dads that's bordering on a helicopter parent.

He'd be really supportive of you no matter if it's coloring quietly in your room or venturing out into the forest to have a wrestling match with your bear pal (he will make sure you have a helmet though (safety first))

When you're old enough to start dating he'll only do a bit of the whole 'intimidating your partner' thing, but only as a joke (tell that to the threatening glint in his eyes hiding under his goofy tone as he tells the person he was kidding).

Anything and everything you make gets hung on the wall and never gets taken down (no matter how much you beg him to take down that cringy old drawing you made).

You'll never have to worry about doing your hair. Lilia says that he learned to tie it up in all those cute styles from when his hair was long, but you know dang well that the great war general Lilia Vanrouge was never french braiding his hair into a heart (and the old books hidden under the bathroom sink, pages tattered and worn from being repeatedly flipped through and studied are pretty telling too).

Even when you were too little to do so well and with a steady hand, Lilia has always let you paint his nails. The look on Baur's face when he first saw Lilia walked into his house with sparkly rainbow nails, the polish appearing to be more on his fingers than anything was priceless. However, any questions he had were answered as the little girl with adorably done hair, a frilly little dress covered in dirt with equally as dirty jeans under it, and a big toothy smile (minus her front teeth) came skipping through the door with muddy Silver.

When the time finally comes that Lilia and Silver head off to Night Raven college along with Malleus and Sebek, Lilia is hesitant at first. He only finally leaves after weeks of convincing him you'll be fine. You'll be attending the school in the castle town and living in a dorm only a few minutes away from where Sebek's parents live.

He makes sure to call you every night to check in, the call often including not-so-surprise guests such as Silver, Sebek, Malleus, and a few times even his friends from his club (though they think you're his niece or cousin or something).

If you come to the cultural festival he makes sure to get you front row seats to his performance and give you a full tour of the campus after the show.

He only introduces you to his friends if you happen across them or directly ask to meet them. He doesn't want to interrupt this rare father daughter time unless you want to. Otherwise, he'll give you his full attention and make sure to remind you how much he loves you and is proud of you.

With Lilia as a father, you'll never have to worry about being unloved or unworthy. No matter your grades, interests, or hobbies, he'll be there supporting you every step of the way. All he asks is that you be true to yourself and always keep your old dad in your heart (He's so dramatic. As if anyone could ever forget or stop loving such a wonderful dad)

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[aspenmissing]

Hello!! Would u be able to write the arcane characters with a partner with short-term memory loss and them being patient with them? Thanks in advance!! 🤗

ᴜɴꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴠᴇ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ || 5167 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ-ᴛᴇʀᴍ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀʏ ʟᴏꜱꜱ (ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ). ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴀ ʙᴜʀᴅᴇɴ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ ᴀɴᴏɴ! ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ, ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ! <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx/ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ

JAYCE

The morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a warm golden glow over the bedroom. The air was still, save for the soft rustling of sheets as Jayce stirred awake. His body moved on instinct, his arm reaching out across the bed for the familiar warmth of Y/N beside him. But instead of feeling her nestled against him, he found only cold sheets.

Jayce blinked away the sleep, his heart giving a small but familiar pang of worry as he turned his head to look at her. She was already sitting up, legs tucked beneath her, her hands gripping the sheets tightly. Her gaze was distant, unfocused, her breathing shallow. Even before she spoke, Jayce knew. He had seen this before.

He sat up slowly, careful not to startle her. "Good morning, sweetheart," he said softly, voice warm and steady.

Y/N tensed at the sound, her body going rigid. Slowly, she turned to face him, her eyes searching his with a distant, unfocused gaze.

"Who… are you?" Her voice was quiet, uncertain, as if the words themselves felt foreign on her tongue.

Jayce felt the breath leave his lungs. His smile faltered, the ache in his chest twisting into something deeper, something unbearable.

"It's me," he said, almost a whisper. "Jayce."

But there was no recognition in her eyes.

Her brow furrowed slightly as she looked down at the sheets, gripping them as if they were the only thing anchoring her to reality. She inhaled sharply, her frustration evident. "I... I don't remember." Her voice wavered, breaking at the edges. "I'm sorry."

Jayce reached for her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, squeezing gently. "You don’t have to apologise, love. It’s okay. I’m here. I’ll always be here."

She studied him for a long moment, her eyes scanning his face, searching for something familiar. Jayce had gotten used to this—waking up to the same heartbreak, the same fragile moment where she tried to piece together who he was, who they were. It never got easier. But he had never once wavered.

"Do you trust me?" he asked gently, his thumb tracing slow circles over the back of her hand.

She hesitated. Then, after a moment, she nodded. "I... I think so."

A soft chuckle left his lips. "That’s a start." He leaned forward, pressing a feather-light kiss to the back of her hand before reluctantly letting go. He stood up, walking to the bedside table where a small, well-worn leather journal sat waiting. He had made sure it was always within reach. Just in case.

He returned to her side, handing it to her carefully. "This is yours. You write in it every night before bed."

Y/N took the journal hesitantly, running her fingers over the soft, worn leather. She opened it, flipping through the pages filled with words in her own handwriting. Little notes, memories, moments she had tried to preserve for herself. And at the top of the very first page, written in bold, unwavering letters:

"Jayce loves you. And you love him."

Her breath hitched. Her fingers ghosted over the ink, as if tracing the letters would somehow make them feel real, tangible.

"I wrote this?" she asked, her voice small.

Jayce nodded. "You did."

She swallowed, her grip on the journal tightening. "I... I want to remember."

Jayce exhaled softly, his heart aching at the longing in her voice. He reached out, cupping her cheek with gentle fingers, brushing away the tear that had slipped down her face.

"Then we'll make new memories," he whispered. "Every day. As many times as you need."

Y/N leaned into his touch, closing her eyes for a moment as if savouring the warmth of his hand. "You must be tired of this." The words were barely above a whisper, fragile and laced with guilt. "Of me."

Jayce's brows drew together, and his hold on her face grew firmer—not in restraint, but in reassurance. "Never," he said, the word carrying all the weight of his love for her. "I love you, Y/N. Even if you forget a thousand times, I’ll remind you a thousand and one."

A small, watery smile trembled on her lips. "You're really patient."

He let out a soft chuckle, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to her forehead. "Only for you."

She rested her forehead against his chest, inhaling deeply as his arms wrapped around her, holding her as if he could physically keep her memories safe.

And as the morning sun bathed them in light, Jayce made a silent promise—to remind her, to love her, to never give up on her, no matter how many times he had to start again.

VIKTOR

Viktor sat at his workbench, the soft glow of the hextech crystal casting a gentle, flickering light over the room. The air smelled faintly of oil and parchment, the familiar scent of ink mixing with the faint metallic tang of machinery. His hands moved with practiced ease, sketching new designs across a weathered notebook, but his mind was elsewhere—on her.

He heard the familiar sound of hesitant footsteps padding cautiously into the workshop, slow and uncertain. His heart ached in anticipation, though he kept his expression warm and welcoming as he turned in his chair, his golden-brown eyes softening the moment they landed on her.

"Ah, good evening, my dear," he greeted, his voice laced with gentle affection.

Y/N stood in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the dim hallway beyond. She hesitated, her fingers brushing against the wooden frame as if she were trying to ground herself. Her eyes, wide with confusion, flickered around the room, searching for something familiar.

“I—I don’t know where I am,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t even know if I should be here.”

Viktor inhaled softly, keeping his movements slow and deliberate as he set down his pen. He shifted, gripping his cane before pushing himself up to stand with practiced care. There was no frustration in his gaze, no flicker of impatience—only boundless patience and unwavering devotion.

"You are exactly where you are meant to be," he assured her gently. "You are home, Y/N. With me."

She blinked at him, her brows knitting together in thought. Her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to say something, but nothing came. She studied his face, tracing his features with uncertainty, as if searching for something hidden just beyond the reach of her memory.

“Do I… know you?” she finally asked, her voice so fragile it made Viktor’s chest tighten.

The words were a dagger to his heart, but he bore them with the quiet grace of a man who had learned to endure this pain a thousand times before. It would be easy to despair, to crumble beneath the weight of losing her over and over again—but he never would. Not when she was still here, still breathing, still standing before him with a flicker of recognition buried deep within her eyes.

But he loved her. And love, he believed, was not just in memories—it was in moments. In the way her hand felt in his, in the sound of her voice, in the quiet evenings spent together, even if she did not always remember them.

“You do,” he said softly. “But it is alright if you do not remember yet. We have time.”

Her hesitation lingered, but when he reached out, she let him take her hands in his. They were familiar, warm, and despite the veil of uncertainty clouding her mind, she did not pull away.

She looked down at their intertwined fingers, running her thumb along his knuckles as if trying to understand why this touch felt so right.

“What’s your name?” she asked, her gaze flicking back to his, searching for an answer.

"Viktor," he murmured, giving her fingers a light squeeze. "I am your Viktor."

A flicker of something—recognition, perhaps—passed through her eyes, and for the briefest moment, she smiled. It was small, tentative, but it was enough to make Viktor’s breath catch in his throat.

"I think I like that name," she whispered, as if the words were a secret meant only for him.

A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest, and his grip on her hands tightened just slightly, grounding himself in the moment. “That is good to hear. You tell me so every time.”

She blinked, tilting her head. “I do?”

He nodded, a quiet hum of amusement escaping his lips. “Yes. And then you always let me hold you like this.” He carefully guided her hands to rest against his chest, just over the steady, reassuring rhythm of his heartbeat. “And sometimes, if I am lucky, you let me kiss you, too.”

A faint blush dusted her cheeks, the colour blooming softly against her skin. Despite the uncertainty still lingering in her gaze, she let out a quiet laugh—light and airy, a sound Viktor wished he could bottle and keep forever.

“I think… I think I like that, too.”

His heart ached, full and heavy with love as he leaned in, pressing a feather-light kiss to her forehead. He lingered there, his lips against her skin, letting the warmth of the moment sink into his very being.

Carefully shifting his weight onto his cane, he whispered, "Then, perhaps, we should fall in love all over again."

And so, they did. Every single day.

JAYVIK

The marketplace in Piltover bustled with life, the air filled with the scent of fresh bread, spiced tea, and the occasional hint of metalwork from the nearby forges. Merchants called out their wares, bartering voices rising above the murmur of the crowd. The streets were alive with a tapestry of colours—vivid fabrics draped over wooden stalls, glistening jewels reflecting the golden light of the afternoon sun, and baskets of fresh produce adding splashes of green and orange to the scene.

Y/N had been out with Viktor and Jayce, the three of them enjoying a rare break from their work, wandering through the stalls, taking in the sights and sounds, indulging in the simple pleasure of being together. It was a fleeting escape from the pressures of Piltover’s politics and technology, a moment where they could simply be. Jayce had been enthusiastically explaining a new hextech prototype, gesturing animatedly while Viktor listened with an amused yet interested expression, always ready to ground Jayce’s ambitions in practicality.

But in the flurry of movement, she had wandered off.

It wasn’t intentional—at least, not that she could remember. One moment, she had been holding Viktor’s hand, listening to Jayce ramble about some new hextech idea he was excited about. And the next, she was standing in a completely different part of the market, arms full of random goods. A roll of fabric, a small pouch of herbs, a beautifully carved wooden figurine of a Vastaya, and even a loaf of bread. The weight of them in her hands felt unfamiliar, as though they had simply appeared there without her noticing.

She blinked down at the assortment, confusion bubbling in her chest. When had she picked these up? Had she paid for them? Did someone give them to her? The thought sent a ripple of anxiety through her—what if she had taken them without realising?

A voice, warm but laced with concern, cut through the fog.

“There you are!” Jayce sighed in relief as he jogged up to her, his broad shoulders slightly tense from the worry that had clearly been eating at him. Viktor was only a step behind, leaning slightly on his cane, his golden eyes sweeping over her with the same concern Jayce wore openly.

“Where did you go, dove?” Viktor asked softly, his voice steady and soothing, searching her face for any sign of distress.

Y/N looked between them, her expression blank before morphing into something puzzled. “I… I don’t know.” She furrowed her brows, looking down at the items in her arms as if they might offer an explanation. “I don’t remember where I got these.”

Jayce and Viktor exchanged a glance, the familiar ache of worry settling between them. They had learned to navigate these moments with her, moments where time slipped through her fingers like sand, where memories faded as quickly as they were made. It hurt, but they never let her see that. They had promised to be patient, to guide her back whenever she lost herself, to anchor her in their presence.

Instead, Jayce offered her his easy smile, reaching out to steady the bundle in her arms. “Well, that’s quite the collection you’ve got there. Mind if we retrace your steps and figure it out?”

Y/N bit her lip, nodding hesitantly. “I… I didn’t steal, did I?” The fear in her voice was small but present, and it made Viktor’s heart ache. The idea of her feeling lost, unsure of her own actions, tore at him in ways he couldn’t put into words.

“No, Lásko,” Viktor reassured her immediately, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, his thumb rubbing slow, reassuring circles against the fabric of her sleeve. “We’ll sort it out, don’t worry.” (Love)

Jayce, ever the optimist, gave her a wink. “If anything, you might have just been too charming, and people couldn’t help but give you things.”

That made her smile, if only a little. The tension in her shoulders eased, and Viktor reached for her free hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, grounding her in something solid. Jayce did the same on her other side, his grip warm and steady, always there to catch her when she faltered.

Together, they walked back through the marketplace, patient, understanding. They stopped at a fabric stall where the vendor instantly recognised Y/N, smiling warmly and assuring her that she had paid. At the herbalist’s stand, the elderly shopkeeper chuckled, recalling how Y/N had been fascinated by a rare herb she hadn’t seen before. Each stop helped piece the mystery together, each kind word and understanding smile from the merchants easing the anxiety that had settled in her chest.

It wasn’t always easy, but neither of them would ever dream of leaving her lost—not when she was their home, memory or not. And as they walked, hands linked, Y/N found comfort in knowing that no matter how much she forgot, they would always remember for her.

VANDER

The Last Drop was bustling, the scent of ale and smoke hanging thick in the air. The low hum of chatter mixed with the clinking of glasses and the occasional burst of laughter. Vander stood behind the bar, wiping down a mug as he cast a concerned glance towards Y/N. She was seated at one of the tables, fingers idly tracing the wood grain. Her brows were slightly furrowed, her lips pursed as if she was trying to recall something just out of reach.

He sighed, setting the mug down with a quiet clink. "Alright, love, we need a few things from the market," he said, walking over to her. He pulled out a chair and sat beside her, his large hand covering hers in a comforting gesture. "You up for it?"

Y/N blinked, looking up at him. Her eyes held a flicker of uncertainty before she nodded. "Of course. What do we need?" she asked, voice light but hesitant.

Vander smiled, pressing a warm kiss to her forehead. "I've made a list," he reassured her, reaching into his pocket. "And you're not going alone this time."

Y/N frowned. "Why not?"

Vi, standing nearby with her arms crossed, snorted. "Because last time, you forgot everything, and we ended up with three loaves of bread and no ale."

Claggor chuckled, leaning against the wall with his arms folded. "Yeah, and you told the vendor you needed... what was it? Oh right, 'that thing Vander wanted'—which could mean anything."

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, and she bit her lip. "Oh. Right."

Vander chuckled, his calloused fingers gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "It’s alright, sweetheart. That’s why I’m sending you with Powder. And she's got the list."

He gestured towards Powder, who was holding a folded piece of parchment like it was the most important thing in the world. Her small fingers gripped it tightly, her blue eyes sparkling with determination. "I got it! I won’t let her forget a thing!" she chirped, bouncing on her heels.

Y/N gave a soft smile, ruffling Powder’s hair. "Alright, alright. Let’s do this then."

=

As they left The Last Drop, the streets of the Undercity greeted them with a familiar mix of noise and movement. Powder held Y/N’s hand tightly, occasionally glancing up at her. "You feeling okay today?" she asked gently.

Y/N squeezed her hand in return, offering a small but appreciative smile. "I think so. Just... my mind feels a little foggy. Like I know what I’m supposed to do, but it keeps slipping away."

"That’s okay!" Powder said brightly. "That’s why I’ve got the list. Vander thought of everything. We’ll get everything and be back in no time!"

=

They made their way through the market, the air filled with the shouts of vendors calling out their wares and the scent of fresh bread mingling with the oil and grime of the Undercity. Powder kept a steady stream of conversation to keep Y/N focused, pointing out interesting trinkets or people she recognised. Each time they bought something, Powder carefully checked it off the list with a piece of charcoal she had found in her pocket.

"Alright, next is—" Powder paused, then frowned. "Wait, where did the list go?"

Y/N blinked, looking around, her heart skipping a beat. "Didn’t you just have it?"

Powder frantically checked her pockets, patting herself down as if the list might materialise out of thin air. "I did! I swear!"

Y/N giggled, shaking her head. "It’s alright. We’ll figure it out. Let’s retrace our steps."

=

They went back to each stall they had stopped at, Powder chattering as she tried to remember where she might have dropped it. "I had it right here!" she insisted, patting her pockets frantically. "It couldn’t have just vanished!"

Y/N watched her for a moment before something clicked. She reached out and tugged at the edge of Powder’s sleeve. "Powder… what’s this?"

Powder blinked as Y/N pulled the missing parchment free. Her eyes widened in disbelief. "No way! I put it in my sleeve?!"

Y/N burst into laughter, doubling over as she held up the list. "Looks like it’s not just me who forgets things!"

=

By the time they returned to The Last Drop, Powder was carrying a bag nearly twice her size, her small frame nearly swallowed by the bulk of their purchases. Y/N was still giggling, shaking her head at the whole situation as she held up the list triumphantly.

Vander smirked, leaning against the bar with his arms crossed. "And here I was worried."

Vi rolled her eyes, flicking Powder on the forehead playfully. "You should've been. Turns out it's a family trait."

Y/N chuckled, setting the goods down on the counter. "At least we got everything, right?"

Powder huffed dramatically, plopping onto a stool with a tired sigh. "Barely. But we did!"

Vander pulled Y/N into a gentle embrace, his strong arms wrapping around her securely. He pressed another kiss to her forehead, lingering just a little longer this time. "You did good, love."

She melted into his touch, her fingers curling into his shirt as she exhaled softly. "Couldn’t have done it without Powder."

"And the list!" Powder added proudly, holding up the crumpled piece of parchment like a trophy.

Vander chuckled, his voice full of warmth. "And next time, maybe we write two of them—just in case."

SILCO

The low hum of the Undercity seeped into the walls of Silco’s office, the faint sound of dripping water echoing through the cracks. His space was dim, lit only by the harsh glow of a single lamp that cast long, stark shadows across the room. The scent of old books, tobacco, and leather lingered in the air, a mixture that felt almost familiar to Y/N. Still, even in the comfort of this space, the world outside her mind felt distant—blurred like an image through fog.

She sat across from Silco, the heavy chair creaking under her as she fiddled with the edge of the glass on the desk in front of her. The intricate patterns of the wood seemed to shift in her gaze, like the shifting of memories she couldn’t quite catch.

Silco sat, as always, calm, his posture imposing yet somehow at ease. His sharp eyes flickered to her, and for a moment, she could feel his steady gaze anchoring her—reminding her that she wasn’t as lost as she sometimes felt.

She hesitated before speaking, her voice quiet. “I… I think you’ve told me this story before,” she said, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass, the motion almost like a reflex. “But I can’t remember the ending.”

A flicker of amusement played across Silco’s lips, but his expression remained steady. There was no irritation in his eyes—only understanding. “I have told you,” he replied, his voice deep and smooth, as if each word was deliberate, calming. “But I don’t mind telling it again. Perhaps it will stick this time.”

Y/N let out a soft laugh, her gaze drifting to the flickering candle on the desk. “I don’t know how you can be so patient with me,” she said, her voice carrying a trace of self-consciousness. “It must get exhausting repeating yourself all the time.”

Silco’s eyes softened as he leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the surface of his desk. “It doesn’t exhaust me,” he replied, his tone unwavering, yet there was a quiet warmth to it. “I find the repetition comforting. It’s you. And you… you are worth every second.”

Her gaze flickered up to meet his, and something in her chest tightened. There was a tenderness in his words that wasn’t often displayed, a rare softness that only she seemed to evoke. She took a slow breath, trying to steady herself. “But what if I forget again? What if one day… I don’t even remember you?”

Silco’s jaw tightened for a brief moment, but his voice remained steady, unwavering. “Even then, Y/N,” he said, his gaze locking with hers, “I would still be here. I would wait for you to remember, or for you to find your way back to me. Whatever it took.”

The vulnerability in her chest pulled tighter. She had become accustomed to forgetting pieces of herself, of her world. But hearing him speak like this, with such confidence, with such certainty… it did something to her. It made her want to believe, to trust in the idea that not everything could slip away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice small, fragile. She immediately regretted it. Sorry for forgetting, for not being the person she once was. Sorry for the uncertainty she brought into every conversation.

Silco leaned forward slightly, his gaze unwavering, his eyes piercing into hers. “There is nothing to apologise for,” he said, his voice a quiet strength. “Not with me. You never need to apologise for forgetting, Y/N. Not with me.”

She looked at him then, really looked at him. His sharp features, his cold, calculated exterior—none of it mattered in these moments. The softness in his eyes, the gentleness in his voice, was all she needed to see.

“But… I do forget things,” she said, a small, almost helpless laugh escaping her lips. “Little things, big things, important things.”

Silco’s expression softened even further, and for a long moment, he said nothing. He just looked at her, his gaze never leaving hers, as if to say everything with a silent understanding.

"Then I’ll remind you," he said simply, leaning forward and reaching out to gently take her hand in his. "And I will never stop."

Y/N’s breath hitched, the weight of his words sinking into her like an anchor. She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling his warmth seep through her fingers. In that touch, she felt the steady beat of something real, something that even the fog of her memory couldn’t quite erase.

She opened her eyes and met his gaze again, the vulnerability still there but softened by the unwavering certainty in his eyes. "What if I forget everything?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Silco’s thumb brushed across the back of her hand, a slow, deliberate motion that felt like a promise in itself. “Then we’ll build new memories together. Ones you won’t forget.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with warmth, a swell of emotion she couldn’t quite articulate. "You really mean that, don’t you?" she asked, her voice small but steady, searching for the reassurance that she hadn’t been abandoned in the pieces of herself that were slipping away.

"I do," Silco replied, his voice firm but tender. "And I will be here, Y/N. Every day. For as long as it takes."

She smiled softly, a sense of peace settling in her chest. In the silence that followed, there was no pressure, no rush. Just the two of them in the moment, and for once, that was enough.

Time passed slowly, but with Silco by her side, Y/N didn’t feel so lost anymore. Even if the memories she cherished slipped away, there was something timeless between them—a bond that not even time itself could erase. And that, more than anything, was enough for her.

JINX/POWDER

The room was quiet except for the soft sound of paper turning. Y/N sat on the worn couch, holding a cup of tea in her hands, her eyes gliding over the pages in front of her. Jinx, sitting cross-legged on the floor, watched her with a quiet intensity, her usual wild energy subdued in the face of the delicate task she had undertaken.

Y/N’s brows furrowed as she flipped another page of the scrapbook. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but she had learned that patience would be her guide. The short-term memory loss was something new, and it came in waves—some days, she could remember everything, and others... it was as if entire chunks of her life had simply faded away.

"Do you... do you remember this one?" Jinx’s voice was soft, almost hesitant. Her usual mischievous spark was replaced by something deeper, a tender concern that radiated from her like warmth.

Y/N looked at the page, her fingers brushing over the photo of the two of them, laughing in the sunlight, her hair tied in the long plait that Jinx loved to twirl. For a moment, she felt a tug of recognition, but then it slipped away, the feeling fading like water through her fingers.

"I... I don’t," Y/N murmured, a frown tugging at her lips. "But it’s nice, isn’t it? We look happy."

"Yeah, you and me, like we always are," Jinx replied, her voice uncharacteristically soft. There was no teasing, no sarcasm—only a raw, quiet warmth that seemed to anchor the space between them. "It’s okay, though. It’s just... memory stuff, right? You’ll get it back. You always do."

Y/N nodded slowly, trying to find comfort in Jinx’s words. She could see how hard the other girl was trying to stay patient. She had always been the one to keep things light, to crack jokes and stir trouble, but now, she was more still, more grounded. The change was subtle, but it was there.

Her eyes flicked to the next page, and there, to her surprise, was a picture of Jinx with her younger self, a wild, chaotic expression on her face. The photo caught a side of Jinx Y/N had never seen, one of the many layers she had peeled back over the years, revealing her deeper vulnerabilities.

"Is this... you?" Y/N asked, her voice a mixture of curiosity and worry. She didn’t want to upset Jinx by forgetting important things, especially those that were tied so closely to the girl’s heart.

Jinx tilted her head, her lips curling into a small, bittersweet smile. "Yep, that’s me. Before, you know... things got a little... complicated." Her tone wavered, the weight of unspoken memories hanging in the air.

Y/N’s gaze softened as she studied the picture. "I see. So, you’ve always had that spark, huh?"

"Yup, always." Jinx’s eyes twinkled, her smile spreading wider. "I was a little more... explode-y back then, though." She chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, the connection between them flickering to life despite the gap in memory. "I bet. You’ve always had a way with things. Explosions, pranks... and me, apparently."

Jinx gave a little shrug, but the affection in her eyes was unmistakable. "Well, I’ve got to take care of my bestie, right?"

"You always do," Y/N whispered, her heart swelling with the familiar warmth of maternal affection. "You always do."

Jinx’s fingers continued to turn the pages, and Y/N watched her with a quiet gaze as the girl shared more of the scrapbook. There were photos, trinkets, scraps of paper—all carefully placed to help jog Y/N’s memory of the times they’d shared, the moments they had cherished. It was as if Jinx had poured herself into every page, filling the gaps that Y/N couldn’t quite grasp.

=

After a while, Y/N turned to the last page, where a series of sketches Jinx had drawn herself filled the space—images of them together, sitting on the roof of a building, running through the streets, laughing and wild, their bond unspoken but palpable.

"These... these are from you?" Y/N asked quietly, her fingers tracing the outlines of the drawings. "You made these for me?"

Jinx, who usually radiated an untamed energy, seemed to shrink a little. Her usual cocky grin softened, replaced with something vulnerable. "Yeah. I... I wanted to make sure you'd always remember. Even if I gotta keep doing this for a while."

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat, her heart squeezing. Jinx had always been unpredictable, a whirlwind of emotions and impulsive decisions, but this... this was something different. This was care. This was love. Jinx had become her child, in a way—a chaotic, beautiful, complicated child who needed protection and care as much as she needed to be free.

"I’ll remember, Jinx," Y/N said, her voice steady despite the fluttering uncertainty. "Even if it takes time, I will. And I’ll be right here with you. Always."

Jinx’s smile softened, her eyes welling with gratitude, a flicker of that old wild spark returning in the depth of her gaze. "I know, Y/N. I know."

And for the first time in a while, Y/N felt like maybe, just maybe, she’d remember everything important—and, if not, she’d always have Jinx, her fiercely loyal, loving daughter in her own way, right there with her.

[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

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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.

[sillyuin]

Have you seen my cat?

Genre: fluff, meet cute.

Pairing: Minghao x reader.

Yuin's note: I would love to write and develop this idea further but idk, let me know what you think.

It had already been more than three days since the last time you knew anything about him. The apartment felt strange even though all your things were in the same place, but he wasn’t there, and you were already starting to notice the difference.

You sighed deeply, sinking into the living room couch and staring at the horizon through the window in front of you. The tall buildings partially blocked the sunset, while you, in the same way, felt like you were fading away. That gloomy feeling stayed with you until you went to sleep.

The next morning, you got up with new strength and decided to look after him, it didn't even matter that you didn't know where to start your searching. After a routine workday at the office, you returned with the search for his whereabouts. However, just like the previous days, there were no results.

Head down, you took a seat in the outside garden of some house, and as you watched the sunset of the fourth day without him, thick tears filled your eyes and you didn't bother holding them back. But then, a voice interrupted your thoughts.

That person cleared their throat. “Good afternoon, do you need anything?”

You jumped in your seat and tried to dry your tears. “I’m sorry, I just… I was tired.”

You looked up with a certain fear, thinking you’d meet the angry face of some man annoyed that a stranger was sitting in his property. However, you found a young man standing next to you, his face glowing with curiosity and innocence. For a moment, he reminded you of him…

 “I don’t want to bother you, but…” his voice was calm and gentle, “if you need help, you can tell me, and I’ll see what I can do for you.”

He extended his hand toward you and offered a friendly smile before introducing himself. “My name is Xu Minghao, and I’m the owner of this nursery.”

You shook his hand and after saying your name in a whisper, you glanced toward the house behind you and your eyes couldn’t believe how such a beautiful garden had gone unnoticed by you.

Despite being your first time appreciating that magical place, you’d already heard his name (apparently quite popular in the small town) mentioned by your coworkers, as the couldn’t stop talking about the handsome young man who ran the old nursery a few blocks away, caring for the plants as if they were his own family.

But it wasn’t just his elegant demeanor or the way he smiled—there was something else that left you speechless and for a moment, he made you forget your intrusive thoughts. But it was only for a very brief moment…

You stood up and took a deep breath to calm yourself. “Excuse me… You…”

His gaze and his full attention were on you, and it made you a little anxious.

“It’s okay, I’m listening.”

“Have you seen my cat?”

Minghao tilted his head slightly, and his eyebrows furrowed in the middle. “Your cat?”

You rummaged through your bag, looking for your phone, and showed him your wallpaper. “This is my cat. He’s been missing for more than three days.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, it must be terrible for you.”

You didn’t respond, just lowered your gaze and nodded slowly. It was very difficult to put into words how much you missed his presence, coming home and being greeted by his purring, or the way he curls up with you for bedtime.

Small tears started to fill the corner of your eyes, and the last thing you wanted to do was to make that kind man feel uncomfortable with your presence, and before you could just run away, he spoke.

“Let me do something for you.”

“Something… for me?”

“Yes, let me help you,” he said, stepping back slightly and extending his hand as an invitation. “Come in.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t, I’m in a hurry, and…”

“It won’t take long, I promise.”

You swallowed hard, thinking about how much you simply wanted to turn around and leave, but you nodded, and with some hesitation, stepped into the garden.

“I’ll give you a gift,” he explained, walking ahead of you, “to keep you company in these difficult times.”

You shrugged and made a slight grimace. “Thanks, but I’m not good at taking care of plants.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he turned to give you a smile, “I have a friend that I’m sure you can take care of.”

You gave a faint smile. “A… friend?”

Minghao said nothing, just gestured for you to come closer. When you took a few steps toward him, you heard a very familiar sound coming from nearby. Behind a flowerpot, a white, fluffy tail stretched out, and when you called his name, it revealed itself as a white cat that happily ran toward you.

“I was starting to worry about his owner,” Hao said to himself.

You were so happy to see him again—the only friend you had in that city—that you forgot about Minghao for a moment. “Don’t run off like that again, please,” you murmured, cuddling the cat in your arms. “I missed you so much, Vanilla.”

“I found him three days ago, sleeping on a sack of seeds” Hao explained. “And I guess he liked my food, because he didn't leave”.

“Thank you for taking care of Vanilla” you said with a bright smile, “He’s such a docile cat and I was afraid someone might have hurt him.”

“It was my pleasure to have his company. Actually, it made me think that I should adopt a cat for me.”

“Oh, can I go with you?” you blurted out, just to end up shrugging in shyness. “You know, I have one, and… I know a thing or two.”

Hao smiled and tilted his head slightly, his deep gaze resting on you with curiosity and perhaps, just perhaps, something a little further. “How about this weekend? At two in the afternoon”

You nodded slowly, unable to articulate a word. The silence lingered for a few seconds, during which the two of you simply held each other’s gaze, until you felt a soft warmth on your cheeks, trying your best not to smile.

“Saturday, at two!” you stammered as you walked towards the exit of the garden. “I’ll come pick you up!”

And as you turned to leave he called out your name, making you slowly turn on your heels.

“Remember to put an address on Vanilla’s collar,” Hao hesitated a little, “you know… If he comes by again… I know where to go.”

[tired-demonspawn]

seen a few plp on my timeline sharing their language's dub stobotnik moments

so! because i recently did watch all 3 movies in the czech dub while making extensive notes, here are a few stand outs :D!:

starting off strong with the mouthgrab scene. first of all i would like to establish that agent stone generally uses very formal and grammatically correct language.

however! while saying "everyone else is stupid" he uses very informal versions of the words, which are employed by robotnik constantly throughout the movie. it makes it crystal fucking clear that they have, in-fact, had this conversation before and he is just quoting him verbatim.

also everyone else is stupid is replaced with "snýst že ostatní sou blbý"(endure that everyone else is stupid) which idk why but it sounds more fruitier to me.

moving on, instead of “i love the way you make them!” he yells “i [adore/love] your lattes” (zbožňuju tvý latté!)

"do some rock-onnaissance" - "vyšutři to"(šutr - word for stone, vyšetřit - investigate) whoever came up with that is a legend and i love them.

guy that calls stone a freak, calls him "vole" which is a swear. straight up. pg movie btw. (there are worse swears out there but it still took me off guard)

while playing makeover, stone says "dokonalá nová imidž, sekáč." meaning "perfect new look, [slang for someone being particularly handsome]" which is INSANE.

while citing the manual, he cites the exact page number ("návod strana 50"), bro really memorised everything in that thang including the page numbers

instead of an HR complaint robotnik basically says they(TM) will send OSHA after him 💀("no skvěle, ještě na mě kvůli vám přijde inspekce bezpečnosti práce") weirdly enough it seems hes addressing team sonic, not stone. because if it was stone he was talking to, he would be using the formal you for him, which he never does throughout this entire movie series.

that leads me to the conclusion he’s using "vám" as a plural you instead of a formal you and is blaming team sonic for making the robot shake in a way that hurt stone. do with this information what you will.

moving onto movie 3, instead of "egg-sact my revenge" he says "snesu na něj pomstu jak slepice vejce"(i’ll lay revenge on him like a hen lays an egg) and then stone smiles :) he doesn’t have to go "see what I did there.", he just laughs at his jokes unprompted, hes so in love :)

“tady je”(here it is) instead of “found some” followed by “je mazaný”(“he’s sly” HELLO?????? WDYM BY THAT?????) as “resourceful” is doing things to me and i hope it does things to you too.

BRO SAYS “to je přesně náš vztah”(that’s exactly our relationship) INSTEAD OF “THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT WE ARE” VZTAH, while yes meaning any kind of relationship, AND ESPECIALLY THE WAY MY DUDE IVO HRBÁČ(stone's VA, kinda poetic someone called Ivo voices him, innit?) SAYS IT, HAS SUCH A ROMANTIC FUCKING CONNOTATION ISTG. FRUITY ASS MF.

also something to mention! my guy ivo(the VA) gives this role his all, or at least significantly more than the other VAs. from him really yelling in that booth both "he's baaaaccckkk!!!!" and "doctor! take me with you!" through the soft way he says "i can't lose you again" to my personal favourite(which made me get up from my chair and walk around my room for a bit to cool off): him sounding like he's on the verge of tears with "goodbye doctor".

Am i biased? yes. but im also correct in my assertion of him being the absolute highlight of this entire dub. so.

anyway that's that, thanks for reading :)