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kamitv · 1 day ago

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Your best friend Sukuna is also a complete pervert.

The guy just won’t stop jerking off in your bedroom! The first time you caught him, you thought he’d stop considering how that only resulted in you using that filthy mouth of yours to milk him for all he’s worth. And yet… here you are walking into your bedroom to find Sukuna fisting his fat cock again.

It’s funny because now you officially note that not only is he a slut but, your best friend Sukuna is a pervert. As if that wasn’t obvious from the first time.

Standing with his stocky tattooed back facing you, this time unaware of your early arrival into your shared apartment, Sukuna’s busy groaning into a pair of your panties—pressing the flimsy red fabric up against his greedy nose and jerking his cock further into his fist with each inhale he takes.

“S-Shiiit,” This is the only time you ever hear the man stutter. To which he follows up with a whorish moan as his eyes travel to the back of his skull. “I fuckin’ need you-, agh.”

You’d think that anyone in your situation would’ve reacted to this by now but instead you just stand there and watch him for a bit, wondering how long he’ll get off like this until he realizes you’re there.

His cock is lathered in spit and cum, indicating that he’s been in your room for a while now, and you can hear the creamy shhlick that follows his every jerky hand movement. Then comes his groans—you’ve always thought they were the prettiest thing. Deep and husk, an underlining rasp carrying within that throaty sound of pleasure… yeah, he’s always been a slut.

But this? Oh this is a new level for him. Because not only is he getting off to your scent but he’s also lulling his tongue out to press it against the spread of the lacy garment, licking up whatever remains of your taste and moaning at the flavor that hits his needy tongue.

The moan he let out sent a shiver of pure arousal down your spine and straight to your core. His moans are so rare but god does it get you worked up every single time.

And it’s in watching him for a few minutes longer that you realize you had those very same panties on just the other day—something about him licking and sniffing all over something you’d just worn makes your thighs clench together and a puddle of arousal builds up within your current pair.

Sukuna still has yet to realize you’re standing there watching him since he’s lost in his own little world so, he soon tugs your panties away from his face with a very faint whine and messily wraps the fabric around his throbbing cock. Now that was a sight for sore eyes.

His jaw falls open and you can only see just the side of his face but his cheeks are reddened and his eyelashes are fluttering. There’s a vein popping out along his jawline, showing just how tense and needy he is as he starts bucking his hips forward and fucks his plump cock against the fabric of your underwear.

Hunching forward a little, his free hand grips onto your nightstand and he’s letting out all kinds of groans and grunts—searing out a low rasp of your name as his body heats up at just the thought of you.

Sukuna can’t help but imagine what you’d think if you caught him like this, how pathetic he probably seems right now, how desperate. Oh, but he just can’t help it. Ever since you caught him, his perverted side has only gotten worse.

The same panties he’s jerking off with right now are the same ones you wore exactly three days ago. He knows that because you were wearing shorts that day and he couldn’t help the way his eyes fell onto the slutty curve of your ass as a peek of red popped out from your shorts while you bent over to pick something up.

The moment you were out of his sight that day, he jerked off to the thought of you until his hand cramped up. Then there were the flashbacks from when your mouth was on him—the way you looked on your knees, how perfectly his cock slotted into the back of that slutty throat of yours, and how stupidly gorgeous you were with teary eyes and gurgled moans of his names slipping from your lips.

So lost in these same thoughts again, Sukuna doesn’t register the fact that you’ve finally called his name and made your presence known until he feels that soft hand of yours gently press against his shoulder blade.

A whine, crisp and unfiltered comes flying past his lips before he can even try to hold it back and then his darkened-, no, weakened maroon eyes are falling on you and—

“‘Kuna,” You purr, to which he cums into your panties without even trying to hold himself back. “I thought I told you about jerking off in my bedroom?”

His eyes nearly cross with how good his orgasm feels crashing over him, hot ‘n thick spurts of cum gushing from his reddened cockhead before you move your arms to wrap around his waist. Sukuna can’t even keep up with you until it’s too late, suddenly your hands are meeting his tip and you squeeze, preventing him from cumming anymore.

Some obscene sound he didn’t realize he was capable of making exits his whiny throat and his eyes widen beyond belief. “O-Oh my—,” Sukuna just chokes on words, body stilling in an overflow of pleasure for a great deal of reasons, all pertaining to you. “F-Fuuck, let.. h-ha-ah, let me cum,” He’s sputtering out, brain and body malfunctioning.

You flash a pout to mock him, “Should I? Even after you’ve been such a perv? I mean, sneaking into my room again, jerking off with my underwear… I dunno if I should let you do anything after all this.”

His body folds forward a bit but your grip on him doesn’t falter. “Please?” Sukuna chokes, although this time his voice is small—like the word kills him to utter, “I’ll…” He gasps a bit as your grip looses, “I’ll be so fuckin’ good from now on.”

“Promise?” You say in a sly whisper.

Sukuna feels like he can’t even breathe anymore, “P-Promise,” He utters, feeling your grip loosen entirely and watching as he finishes right into your palms. “Fuuuck..”

It’s a big sloppy mess that’s left in your hands as you stroke him through it from behind, going as far as planting these cute lil’ kisses against the dark ink on his back. Sukuna’s head spins and he can’t even begin to fathom the true chokehold you seem to have on him.

He’s never been like this for anyone. Sure, he’s known you for years and you’ve been by his side no matter how much of a dick he’s been to you or other people but, surely that doesn’t warrant the affection he’s beginning to harbor for you.

Perhaps he’s just confusing it with lust. Yeahh, that’s it. Sukuna doesn’t like you or anything, he just wants to fuck you. And okay, maybe there’s a hidden desire deep within to be kinder to you if it means he gets to feel you pressing such sweet kisses against his hot skin more often…

Hell, by the time he finally stops making a mess of your hands, he’s just letting out these quiet pants of pure embarrassment. Glaring off to the side with that brat-like pout on his face, ‘hating’ every second of this.

Especially as you push up on your toes and kiss behind his ear, moving to whisper, “What’s this? Sukuna, are you… embarrassed?”

God, he can’t stand you. Ignoring your teasing entirely, Sukuna reaches over for some tissues to help you clean your hands off and as soon as that’s done, he quickly stumbles his bulky body away from you.

Your best friend is such a large man and yet he jerks off to you in a way that makes you wonder if he’d let you literally walk all over him.

Tucking his indecency back into his sweats, he’s yet to utter a single word to you. Part of him is worried that his voice will come out in a pitch that’s rather foreign to how he typically speaks but, he’ll never tell you that.

No, instead, he just clears his throat and tries to go as far as exit your bedroom.

You scoff, “I know you’re not leaving after all that.”

On instant, as if there was some kind of underlying command in your statement and he was nothing more than some big dog heading to the unspoken heel, Sukuna halts in his tracks. “…And if I am?” He finally manages out, voice an entire octave lower than you expected it to be.

Your arms cross and you frown at him. “So, you come in my bedroom while I’m not here, jerk off with my panties, cum in my hands, barely clean me up, and then leave?”

He’s quiet for a lengthy second or two before returning to his usual cocky demeanor, glancing back at you and smirking. “Yeah,” Sukuna hums nonchalantly—as if he wasn’t moaning like a bitch a few seconds ago & knowing damn well if you told him to get down on his knees for you right now, his body would obey your every word without second thought.

You make this expression that lets him know you’re annoyed but for some reason, that only makes his heart throb weirdly. Then you look away and oh he misses your glaring eyes on him already.

“Unless,” He continues in an attempt to gain both your attention and the control of the situation again. “You wanted something from me?”

Unintentionally giving him what he wants, you spare him another glance—your gaze firm. “An apology maybe.” You say with a shrug of your shoulders.

Sukuna chuckles, “For what?”

You blink. “Jerking off in here after I asked you not to.”

“Oh.” You can’t stand it when he acts like this because next comes the most monotone & emotionless voice he can muster as he mocks your facial expression and murmurs, “I’m sorry.”

Your face twists up even further in irritation and his cock twitches as you scoff, “The fuck was that?”

Sukuna bites back a smile, “An apology, obviously.”

“A bullshit one, yeah.” You bite back, crossing your arms over one another, “Get over here and apologize to me properly.”

He would put it on his own life that he hates everything about you right now because the way in which his body moves without hesitation is concerning. Sukuna’s walking closer to you before he even realizes, soon towering over you and staring down into your eyes as indifferently as he can.

As if the genuine annoyance and frustration on your face wasn’t making his cock stiffen again…

Your best friend narrows his eyes a bit, “What kinda ‘proper apology’ do you want from me—“

“Get on your knees.” You cut off.

Sukuna’s breath hitches but he hopes you don’t notice it (you do). Scoffing, and acting like he hasn’t pictured this very moment before, he slowly lowers down onto his knees before you and when he looks up…

Well, from this angle you get the perfect view of his cock poking up against his sweats, the sight making you smile—he just got off a few minutes ago and yet here he is hard again just because you ordered him around a bit.

You loom a bit closer to him and move your foot in between his legs, tapping the side of his knee and motioning for him to spread his legs a bit more. Sukuna hates the way his thighs part so obediently wider for you, allowing you to have enough space to stand in between them.

A smile sparks across your face, “You look kinda cute from this angle, y’know.”

He groans, “Shut up ‘n tell me how you want me to apologize already.”

Suddenly your foot is felt pressing against his throbbing bulge and his hips shift forward on instinct. You were… lightly stepping on his erection. Sukuna feels like he’s getting high off of you again and you were still barely even doing anything.

“Can you put your hands behind your back for me?” You request next.

To which he mentally says ‘hell no’ and peers up at you as if you were crazy, “What the fuck does that have to do with an—“

“You wanna make things up to me, don’t you?”

His lips seal shut but you can see a vein popping out in his forehead. He’s so annoyed and flustered that it angers him. Swatting his hands behind his back, Sukuna cocks his head to the side and glares hard, “Now what.”

Your hand meets his chin and you tip his head further up before pulling out your phone, “Say cheese!”

His eyes widen, “You—“

Before he can get out whatever string of curses you’re sure he had for you, you’ve taken over thirty pictures of your best friend on his knees, with his hands behind his back, and your foot stepping on his cock—which you felt angrily twitch from the moment you pulled your phone out until suddenly something wet met your skin.

Looking down as soon as you’re done taking as many pictures as you could before he smacked your phone away, you end up scoffing. “Sukuna, did you just…” Your voice dies off as you bring a hand up over your mouth.

His left eye twitches and his entire face is beat red, “I’m gonna kill you.”

“You just came again. From that??” You make fun of him anyway, taking in the mix of different emotions swirling all through his face.

There’s no change in his usual rough tone but his eyes appear as though he might be serious as he says, “I’m giving you five seconds to run.”

You start laughing so hard in his face that you can’t help but stumble back and plop down on your bed, giggling until you lose your breath. The sound of your laughter makes Sukuna want to smash his head against a wall—he hates you so much.

So much so that he soon comes staggering up to his feet and looms closer to you as you writhe in amusement. It’s not until your laughing comes to a stop that you realize he’s just standing over you with a ticked off look on his face.

As you catch your breath, you sit up at the edge of your bed and you’re suddenly reminded of the sheer size difference between you two. Sure, you just had him on his knees for you but fuck is he huge—you almost forgot.

Batting your lashes, your smile slowly fades, “What? Why’re you looking at me like that?”

“You’ve been making fun of me and teasing me all day,” Sukuna rasps, leaning down and pressing his palms into the bed beside your thighs. His face gets awfully close to yours, “You think I like being like this? ‘Think I like the way my body reacts to your every fuckin’ word?”

He sounds angry but he’s.. confessing? In a way?

“I can’t stand it. Can’t stand the way you…” He trails off with a groan as he leans down and presses his face into the crook of your neck. Your head instinctively lifts and you feel him inhale strongly. “The way you smell,” Sukuna finishes, moving a careful hand to your thigh and squeezing lightly, “The way you feel.”

You're the one gasping now, lashes fluttering at the need radiating off of his body as he nuzzles into you, “Sukuna, I—“

“The way you fuckin’ sound,” He practically growls his words out this time, “I know you heard me earlier when I said I need you.”

He pulls away just to look you in the eyes. His other hand meets your vacant thigh and you feel him gently parting your legs, “So tell me, do you still want an apology or do you jus’ want me to show you how bad I want you?”

Scoffing, “I think I have a good idea but,” Your eyes wander off for a second and Sukuna knows exactly where this is going, you did the same thing last time before you ended up in between his legs. “How about this; if I let you fuck me, will you finally stop jerking off in my room?” You end up offering as your gaze finds him once more.

Sukuna merely nods, even though his entire body felt a desperate shudder at the prospect of finally being inside you. Feeling you around him, hearing your moans clearly, watching the way your face twists up in pleasure, and being able to drag his touch all over your body?

He probably would've came again right then and there if it wasn't for his past few abrupt back-to-back orgasms.

And with that, your best friend leans up and trails a hand down to his sweatpants, flashing a knowing smirk down at you, “Depends on how well you take my cock.”

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seumyo · 1 day ago

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the art of loving bakugou katsuki’s name.

You loved his name.

You remembered the first time you had heard it—Bakugou Katsuki. It wasn’t an uncommon name, but it was his. His name was easy to remember, sharp on the tongue, and impossible to forget.

And that’s the funny thing about names, isn’t it? No names were ever truly the same. It could be written with the same characters, spoken in the same pronunciation, but the person behind them made it unique.

His was different.

His was his.

Getting to know Bakugou’s name had been one of the most exciting parts of meeting him. The way it rolled off your tongue the first time you said it out loud. The way he grumbled at you when you got too familiar too quickly, scowling at you and scolding you—telling you to say it right or don’t bother at all.

You grew to whisper it in the quiet of study halls, writing it absentmindedly in the margins of your notes when you were too exhausted to focus. You had yelled it across battlefields when you were still young and reckless, had murmured it in moments of vulnerability when it was just the two of you—when the world felt smaller, safer—because he shared the world with you.

It softened over the years, how you said his name. How he let you call him Katsuki when no one else could.

You loved his name.

Because it had been yours to say back then.

And now, he shared it with someone else.

It was a cruel thing, really. To love a name, to cherish it, to include it in a solemn prayer every night just as you’re about to fall asleep, only to have it slip through your fingers.

The wedding was beautiful. Grand, as expected for someone like Bakugou.

The kind of celebration is fitting for a man who had always been larger than life, someone who fought hard and loved even harder. The bride—his wife—was stunning, radiant in a way that made you feel something you didn’t want to name.

“Do you, Bakugou Katsuki, take your—“

His name sounded different now.

You had imagined this moment before, once, a long time ago. Not like this—never like this.

You forced a smile when they exchanged vows, when they kissed, when the crowd erupted in cheers.

You lifted your glass when it was time for the toasts and laughed when it was appropriate.

You played the part of an old friend, a guest who had long since moved on.

Because today was all about him. Not you.

But when the celebration stretched into the late hours, you found yourself stepping out, out into the quiet of the evening just outside the reception hall. You had too many thoughts and too little drinks acquired at the mini bar to drown out this incessant feeling.

You closed your eyes and whispered his name once, just to hear it. Yours.

“[Last Name]?”

Your breath hitched.

You turned, and there Bakugou Katsuki was—standing at the threshold, half in shadow, looking at you the same way he always had. His tie was slightly undone, and his suit jacket draped over his arm. He looked tired. But more than that, he looked at you like he still knew you.

Like he still saw you.

That version of you that only he met and got to know well.

“Hi,” you greeted. “Congrats on getting married, by the way. All my congratulatory messages are in your gifts.”

He scoffed, though it’s quiet, barely audible.

“Right.”

. . .

His gaze lingered, searching. Searching for something that he will never find.

“You okay?”

“Of course. It’s your wedding day. Why wouldn’t I be?”

The answer was too quick, too . . . prepared.

Bakugou didn’t retaliate right away. Instead, he stepped closer, just enough that you could see the way his brows furrowed, the way his jaw tensed.

“[Last Name]—“

“Katsuki.”

His name left your lips before you could stop it, like muscle memory. Like a prayer.

You had intended to call him by his last name. A formality. A distance.

Bakugou stiffened.

You had spent years getting to know his name, understanding every way it could be spoken. The anger in it, the laughter, the quiet tenderness in the dead of night.

And now, for the first time, you didn’t know how to say it.

Because words shouldn’t hurt, they shouldn’t feel like your throat’s being repeatedly stabbed.

. . .

“I never wanted things to end like they did.”

You let out a slow breath. “Neither did I.”

But it had ended. And you both knew why.

Careers. Distance. Bad timing.

Then it all just got too much to fight for.

Because love, even if it’s meant to fight for, gets exhausting when you can no longer love that person the way you used to.

And no matter the reason, endings were still endings. It can’t be erased and rewritten. It isn’t a story on paper that can be edited with a simple pencil and eraser.

“You ever think about—“

“I don’t.” Not anymore, at least, you wanted to add.

Because thinking about it now—on his wedding day—is like disregarding all that he made for himself after you. Disregarding his wife, the one he vowed to love ‘til hell freezes over and whatnot.

“You should go,” you smiled once you heard his wife calling his name.

He lingered for a second longer, as if debating whether to say more. Then, with a nod, he turned and walked away.

You watched as Bakugou joined his wife, the woman who now shared his name, the name of the person you had loved with every fiber of your being.

The name you thought you’d share with him—and once dreamed to keep as yours.

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heliosunny · 2 days ago

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okay.. one.. YOU'RE GENUINELY THE BEST WRITER ON THIS PLATFORM I THINK I'VE READ EVERYTHING YOU'VE EVER WRITTEN.. two, a yandere phainon with a SO that keeps pushing him away due to thinking he's way too good for them, like moving countries typa pushing him away, just telling him like.. "You deserve someone way better, you're just misguided!".. etc

No Escape

Yandere!Phainon x Reader

The first time you saw Phainon, he was standing at the top of the academy’s marble steps, a faint breeze teasing at his silver hair as he spoke to someone important-looking. Even in a place filled with prodigies and elites, he stood out. Meanwhile, you were just another nameless student in the sea of faces, struggling to keep up in a world that never seemed to slow down.

You never expected to cross paths with him. But fate had a cruel sense of humor.

A few shared classes. A single partnered project. Then, somehow, Phainon kept appearing—offering to help you with assignments, walking with you between lessons, seeking you out in the crowded dining hall when he had a thousand better people to sit with. His attention was overwhelming.

You tried to brush it off as politeness. He had no reason to be interested in you. Maybe he pitied you. Maybe he was just nice to everyone. But no matter how much you convinced yourself of that, Phainon never looked at anyone else the way he looked at you.

It was supposed to be a simple experiment. A foundational potion—one that even first-years could brew without issue. Yet, somehow, you had still managed to mess it up.

The classroom was thick with the scent of crushed herbs and simmering liquids, cauldrons bubbling softly as students carefully followed the professor’s instructions. You and Phainon had been paired together, much to your dismay. Not because he was unpleasant—far from it. But because standing beside someone like him only highlighted how out of place you were.

“Careful” Phainon murmured as you reached for the powdered moonroot. “That’s starshade. If you mix that in, the potion will—”

A single spoonful of the wrong ingredient hit the potion’s surface before he could finish his warning. The liquid instantly turned a sickly green before erupting into a thick, foul-smelling smoke.

Coughing, you stumbled backward, barely able to make out Phainon’s silhouette through the haze. Around the room, other students were staring, some laughing, some groaning from second-hand embarrassment.

You wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

When the smoke cleared, the professor pinched the bridge of her nose before marking something down on her clipboard. “Another failure” she sighed, shaking her head. “Mr. Phainon, I expected better.”

You glanced at him, feeling guilt twist in your gut. It wasn’t his fault—you were the one who had messed up. But Phainon merely smiled, completely unfazed. “Mistakes are part of learning”

If failing potions class was humiliating, then physical training was an absolute nightmare.

Magic broom exercises were a staple at the academy—a mix of aerial maneuvering and endurance meant to build both magical and physical control. For most students, it was exhilarating. For you, it was just another opportunity to fall flat on your face. Literally.

“Just kick off the ground lightly” Phainon instructed, hovering effortlessly beside you as if it was the easiest thing in the world. “Let the magic flow through you.”

That was easy for him to say.

Still, you grit your teeth and tried. The broom wobbled violently the moment your feet left the ground, and before you could steady yourself, it twisted sideways. You yelped as gravity took over, sending you crashing back onto the training field.

The instructor let out a long-suffering sigh. The other students snickered.

Phainon, of course, landed smoothly beside you, offering his hand. “Are you hurt?”

You groaned, rolling onto your back to stare at the sky instead of meeting his gaze. “Just my pride.”

There was a soft chuckle, and then—before you could stop him—Phainon crouched down and plucked a stray leaf from your hair.

“You’re improving” he said, completely sincere.

You gave him a skeptical look. “I literally just fell on my face.”

“You lasted two seconds longer this time.” His smile was slight but warm. “That’s progress.”

Something in your chest tightened. It was the way he looked at you—like you weren’t a failure, like he actually believed in you.

----

“You’re avoiding me”

You forced a smile, pretending not to feel the weight of his presence. “I’m just busy.”

“No, you’re not.”

You exhaled, shoulders tensing. “Phainon, you don’t understand. You shouldn’t be wasting your time with me.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because you deserve better,” you blurted out, frustration bleeding into your tone. “You deserve someone extraordinary, someone who belongs in your world—not me.”

A slow silence stretched between you.

“You think I don’t know what I want?”

“You’ll realize it one day.”

“I already have.” He stepped closer, “You’re the only thing I’ve ever been certain of.”

That was the problem.

Because one day, he would see the truth.

And that’s why you had to leave.

The village was quiet. Tucked away in a valley where the mountains shielded it from the outside world, where magic was nothing more than a story told to children before bed.

Here, you weren’t a failure. You weren’t a disappointment. You weren’t anything but yourself.

The people welcomed you easily enough. A newcomer with no past, no baggage—just willing hands and a desire to work. You took on whatever jobs you could. Fetching water, helping at the bakery, tending to the fields when the farmers needed an extra hand. It was hard work, but it was yours.

And best of all, Phainon wasn’t here.

Time moved differently in the village. The days stretched long beneath golden sunlight, the nights cool and filled with the sounds of crickets and rustling leaves. Slowly, the tension in your chest unraveled.

For the first time in years, you could breathe.

You stopped thinking about magic. Stopped thinking about what you left behind.

The village had become home. Years had passed since you arrived, and with time, you molded yourself into the life here, into the rhythm of simplicity. No one here knew of magic—no one needed to. You had left that world behind.

Until the day you were forced to use it again.

It was supposed to be a normal afternoon. You stood knee-deep in the river, feeling the gentle current brush against your legs as you worked to catch fish for dinner. The sun was warm, the air filled with the laughter of children playing nearby.

Then, a scream.

You turned just in time to see a boy, no older than six, trip over the edge of the riverbank. His friends gasped as he tumbled forward, the steep drop giving him no chance to stop himself before he plunged straight into the deeper part of the river.

The current was too strong. The boy’s small body disappeared beneath the surface, water swallowing his cries.

No one here could swim well enough to save him in time.

No one, except you.

But swimming alone wasn’t enough. By the time you got to him, it would be too late.

The promise you made to yourself—to never use magic again—shattered.

Without thinking, you raised your hand.

A whisper of energy, long buried, surged through your veins. The river stilled in an instant, the currents bending to your will. The water lifted, forming a controlled wave that carried the boy gently back to the shore, setting him down safely on the grass.

The children hadn’t spoken a word.

You had made sure of that.

After pulling them aside, you crouched down, “You can’t tell anyone what you saw. Not your parents, not your friends—no one. This is our little secret, alright?”

They had nodded, still wide-eyed from the miracle they had just witnessed. Thankfully, kids loved secrets. They thought of it as a game, something special just between you and them. For now, your peace was intact.

Or so you thought.

The next morning, you made your way back to the river, hoping to clear your mind. Maybe even push down the unease still twisting in your stomach. But as you approached, you froze.

Someone else was there.

And not just anyone. Him

Phainon sat comfortably on a fallen log, watching the children with a small, amused smile as they chattered excitedly around him. He looked out of place among them- too refined, like a painting come to life. And yet, he somehow blended in so effortlessly, laughing at their stories, ruffling their hair like an older brother would.

As if sensing your presence, he looked up. The moment his gaze met yours, time itself seemed to halt.

His expression softened, “Oh?” He rose to his feet, brushing off nonexistent dust from his coat. “I was beginning to think you’d never show up.”

You took a step back instinctively, but he was already approaching.

“You look well” he murmured, eyes scanning you as if memorizing every detail. “This place suits you.”

“Phainon…”

“How…?” The question barely made it past your lips.

“How did I find you?” he finished for you, his smile deepening. “Come now, you know the answer to that.”

Of course, you did. He had never been the type to let go of something he wanted.

“Why are you here?” you asked, though you already knew.

“To take you back.”

The children, blissfully unaware of the weight in the air, tugged at his sleeve, asking if he would play another round of their game. He chuckled, indulging them for just a moment longer before returning his attention to you.

“I’ve been very patient” he said, “But you’ve had your fun, haven’t you? A few years of pretending to be someone else, living a quiet life in hiding.”

He stepped closer, lowering his voice just enough that only you could hear.

“But you belong with me.”

You swallowed hard, willing yourself to stay calm. The river murmured beside you, its steady rhythm grounding you against the storm that had just arrived in your life.

“I’m not going back” you said, keeping your voice even. “I built a life here. A normal, happy life.”

Phainon hummed as if considering your words, but the knowing glint in his eyes never faded. “A happy life, is it?” He glanced around at the quiet village in the distance, at the carefree children still playing near the water. “I see. It’s charming. Simple. Safe.” His gaze flickered back to you, sharper now. “But is it really yours?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’ve been pretending.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Haven’t you?” He stepped closer, and you resisted the urge to back away. “You came here running, hiding, trying to erase the parts of yourself that didn’t fit into this little picture-perfect village. But you can’t change who you are.”

“Even if I wanted to return—which I don’t—you’re not just expecting me to go back to that world, to the academy, to the annoying people?” You studied him, searching for an answer you already knew. “You want me to stay by your side.”

You exhaled, “I deserve to be where I choose.”

“Then prove it.”

“…What?”

Phainon gestured around, as if presenting the village itself. “You say you belong here. That this life is what you truly want. So, I’ll stay.” He smiled, voice light but unmistakably firm. “I’ll see it for myself.”

“If you’re right,” he continued smoothly, “then I’ll leave. I’ll never bring this up again.”

A lump formed in your throat. You knew him too well—Phainon never agreed to something without confidence in the outcome.

“But if I’m right…Then you’re coming home with me.”

“Fine.”

“Then it’s a deal.”

----

Phainon blended in effortlessly.

He smiled at the villagers, greeted them politely, and answered their curious questions with practiced ease. They saw a charming, well-mannered traveler—someone elegant yet approachable, someone who belonged in the outside world but was humble enough to appreciate their quiet life.

But you knew better. Every kind word, every gentle laugh, every playful interaction with the children—it was all a mask. A carefully crafted act.

Because beneath that smile, Phainon hated them.

He hated the way they spoke to you like you were one of them. Hated the way they relied on you, trusted you, called you their own. Hated that you had given them years of your life—years that should have been his.

And worst of all, he hated that you thought they were your home.

You kept a close eye on him as he spent his first day in the village.

He helped an elderly woman carry a basket of vegetables from the market. Listened to the local blacksmith talk about his craft with genuine-seeming interest. Even played with the children again, letting them tug at his sleeves and drag him into their games.

And yet, you could see it.

The slight hesitation before he let them touch him. The way his fingers twitched, as if suppressing the urge to recoil. The empty warmth in his voice when he praised them.

To anyone else, he was nothing but kind.

His patience was razor-thin.

This was a test—for you, for them.

He was waiting. Waiting for the moment you would finally realize what he already knew. That these people weren’t your home. That this place wasn’t enough for you.

Later that evening, as the sun dipped into the horizon, you found Phainon sitting outside the small cottage you called home. He looked up at you with a smile, a book resting on his lap.

“How was your day?” he asked, as if this was normal, as if he hadn’t just invaded the life you built.

“I should be asking you that.”

He chuckled. “The village is… charming.”

“They’re good people” you said carefully.

“Are they?”... I’ll admit, it’s impressive how long you lasted here”

You clenched your jaw. “I’m still here.”

“For now.”

----

The scent of fresh flowers filled the small shop, delicate petals brushing against your fingers as you arranged the newest bouquet. It was peaceful here—one of the few places in the village where you could find solace. A quiet, colorful haven where no one expected too much from you.

But today, peace was a fleeting thing.

Because Phainon was here.

Seated gracefully near the counter, he idly turned a flower between his fingers, the picture of effortless charm. The sunlight filtering through the window caught the silver strands of his hair, highlighting the striking contrast of his sharp, elegant features.

And, of course, the ladies noticed.

They had been stopping by all morning, some of them customers, others just looking for an excuse to linger. They giggled, twirled strands of their hair, asked far too many questions about him.

Phainon, as always, indulged them.

He smiled, listened with amused interest, even complimented them in that smooth, easy tone of his. It was effortless—just like back in the academy days, when people gravitated toward him like moths to a flame.

You exhaled sharply, setting down the bouquet you had been working on.

“I must say” one of the women giggled, resting a hand on the counter as she looked at Phainon through her lashes, “you don’t seem like a traveler at all. You carry yourself like someone of noble blood.”

Phainon chuckled, twirling the flower in his hand. “Do I?”

You didn’t miss the amusement in his tone.

If only they knew.

Another woman leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Are you staying long? It would be a shame if someone like you just disappeared.”

“I suppose that depends.”

His gaze flickered toward you for just a second—so brief no one else would’ve caught it. But you did.

Your fingers tightened around the bouquet’s stems.

He wanted to see how you would react. If you would push him away. If you would feel something. So you said nothing. You grabbed a pair of scissors, focused on trimming the leaves, and ignored him entirely.

The women kept fawning over him, unaware of the silent tension beneath the surface. And through it all, Phainon smiled.

But you knew him too well.

Beneath that easy charm, there was something sharper. A quiet, unspoken warning.

By the third day, the village had fully embraced Phainon as a welcome guest. His charm and helpful demeanor had won over the villagers, and they spoke of him with admiration. But beneath his courteous exterior, a storm was brewing.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the village, Phainon approached you with a serene smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"It's time to end this charade"

"What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I mean. Return with me, or face the consequences."

Swallowing your fear, you shook your head. "I won't go back. This is my home now."

Phainon's smile faded entirely, replaced by a cold, calculating expression. "Very well."

Without another word, he raised his hand, and a surge of energy crackled through the air. Flames erupted from the thatched roof of a nearby cottage, quickly spreading as villagers screamed and scrambled to extinguish the fire.

"Stop!" you cried, reaching out instinctively.

Phainon turned to you, his eyes devoid of mercy. "This is just the beginning. For every day you refuse to come with me, more of this village will burn."

Tears blurred your vision as you watched the chaos unfold. The people who had taken you in, who had become your family, were now suffering because of you.

"Please," you whispered, voice trembling. "Don't hurt them."

He stepped closer, gently cupping your face with a hand that had just wrought destruction. "Then make the right choice. Come with me, and they will be spared."

Defeated and broken, you nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I'll go with you."

"Good. We leave at dawn."

As he walked away, you fell to your knees, the weight of your decision crushing your spirit. The village would survive, but at the cost of your freedom.

The journey back was quiet.

You sat beside Phainon in the carriage, staring out the window as the village faded into the distance. A hollow ache settled in your chest, your hands clenched into fists against your lap.

You had fought so hard to stay. To build something for yourself.

And yet, here you were.

Dragged back to the place you ran from.

The silence was suffocating, but Phainon seemed completely at ease. He sat comfortably across from you.

Finally, you exhaled sharply, unable to hold it in any longer. “Why?”

He tilted his head slightly. “Why what?”

“Why me? You’re—you’re Phainon. Talented. Admired.” You forced yourself to look at him. “You could have anyone. People worship the ground you walk on. So why are you wasting your time with someone like me?”

For a brief moment, Phainon simply studied you, as if the question itself was absurd.

“You truly don’t understand, do you?”

“Understand what?”

“You are mine. You were meant to be by my side.”

“That’s not—”

“You say I could have anyone.” His smile widened, amusement glinting in his eyes. “You’re right. But I don’t want anyone else.”

His grip on your wrist tightened ever so slightly, enough to make your pulse spike.

“I want you.”

Phainon exhaled through his nose, his usual composed demeanor slipping just a little.

“You always do this” he murmured, shaking his head as if disappointed. “You keep pushing me away like I’m some foolish child chasing after something fleeting.”

His fingers slid away from your wrist.

“I thought you understood me better than that.”

“I don’t understand you at all.”

Phainon’s lips pressed into a thin line. He leaned back against the seat, regarding you with something unreadable.

“Do you remember,” he started, “that day in the alchemy class? When you nearly blew us both up?”

“What…?”

“You misread the measurements, mixed the wrong ingredients.” His gaze darkened, but there was no malice in it. Just something strangely… fond. “And instead of panicking, instead of trying to shift the blame like most people would, you just—” He let out a quiet, breathy chuckle. “You just looked at me with guilt and then laughed to brush it off.”

You had laughed. Not because it was funny, but because you were so used to failing.

“That was the first time in years someone had laughed with me. Not to impress me. Not to get my attention.”

You glanced away, unsure what to say.

But Phainon wasn’t finished.

“And then there was that time during flight practice.” He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing. “You were terrible.”

Your lips parted, indignant. “I wasn’t that bad—”

“You crashed into a tree.”

You winced. Okay, maybe you were that bad.

Phainon exhaled, rubbing his temple. “I should have been annoyed. It was a waste of time, and you dragged me down with you.” He lowered his hand, his eyes locking onto yours again. “But instead, I found myself fascinated.”

“Wait- Why?”

His lips parted, then closed again, as if choosing his words carefully. And then, finally—

“Because you weren’t afraid to be imperfect.”

“You struggled. You failed. You made mistakes.” His voice was quieter now, but no less intense. “But you never let that stop you. You never pretended to be something you weren’t.”

“I grew up surrounded by people who only showed me what they thought I wanted to see. People who wore their own masks, desperate to be flawless, desperate to be noticed.” His jaw clenched. “But you… you never tried to be anything but yourself.”

His fingers curled slightly, as if resisting the urge to reach for you.

“And I—” He exhaled, almost shakily. “I couldn’t look away.”

The carriage fell into silence.

The weight of Phainon’s confession hung between you, suffocating in its intensity. His words should have meant something—should have been enough to prove he wasn’t just chasing an illusion.

And yet, your hands still trembled in your lap.

Because no matter how much he thought he loved you—

It was still wrong.

“So what?” you whispered, voice hoarse. “Just because you like those things about me, you think that justifies everything?”

Phainon’s brows furrowed slightly.

“You burned my home, Phainon.” You clenched your jaw, trying to keep the anger from breaking into something weaker. “You threatened innocent people just to get me back. That isn’t love. That’s—”

His hand lashed out, gripping your wrist before you could recoil. Not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough that you felt the unspoken don’t you dare finish that sentence.

His usual composed mask cracked—just slightly, just enough to reveal something darker beneath the surface.

“I did what I had to do.” His voice was quiet, almost calm, but there was a tremor beneath it. A barely-contained storm. “You left me. You threw yourself away like you were nothing. Like we were nothing.” His fingers tightened, just a fraction. “And I wasn’t going to stand by and let that happen.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make.”

“Wasn’t it?”

His other hand came up, brushing against your cheek—“You think I could just let you go? Just sit back and watch while you buried yourself in a life that was never meant for you?”

His fingers curled, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to look into his eyes.

“You think I could ever be okay with that?”

Your throat went dry. Because this was it. The moment he stopped pretending.

“You belong with me.” His voice dropped lower, “You always have. And I don’t care how long it takes—how much you fight, how many times you try to run.”

He leaned in, his breath ghosting against your skin.

“I will always bring you back.”

You knew you couldn’t fight him head-on—not now, not when he was stronger, more prepared. But you had to try.

So you made your move.

With a sharp twist of your wrist, magic surged through your veins. The carriage around you blurred, the air crackling as you poured everything into a single desperate spell— Escape.

The moment your body flickered out of existence, you reappeared outside, stumbling onto the forest road. You didn’t wait. You ran.

Twigs snapped beneath your feet as you pushed forward, lungs burning. The wind howled past your ears, the distant hoot of an owl the only sound in the otherwise eerie silence.

A presence loomed behind you.

A hand seized your wrist.

Your entire body jerked backward as a grip yanked you off your feet. A sharp gasp tore from your throat as you collided with something solid.

The scent of embers and something faintly sweet filled your senses.

“Really now,” Phainon’s voice drawled “Did you honestly think you could get away?”

You thrashed, kicking, clawing—anything to loosen his hold—

But his grip only tightened, effortlessly caging you against him.

“You already knew how this would end.”

“No—! Put me down—!”

“Now, now,” Phainon mused, carrying you effortlessly through the forest as if you weren’t fighting him with every ounce of your strength. “If you didn’t resist this much…”

His fingers trailed up your back, sending a sharp chill through you.

“I’d go easy on you.”

The moment Phainon’s home came into view, dread twisted in your stomach. The towering walls loomed over you, the polished stone gleaming beneath the moonlight. Once, this place had simply been part of the academy grounds. Now, it felt more like a prison.

And you were being dragged back inside.

The heavy doors shut behind you with a thud that might as well have been the slamming of a cage. Phainon finally set you down, but his grip never left your wrist. You yanked at it instinctively, but he only pulled you closer, forcing you to face him.

“You’ve tired yourself out,” he murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face as if you weren’t staring at him in outright defiance. “You should rest.”

“I don’t want to rest. I want to leave.”

“And where would you go? Back to that village?” A quiet scoff. “Do you think they’d still want you after what happened?”

He was wrong. They wouldn’t blame you. They couldn’t. But his words still wormed their way into your thoughts, planting doubt where there shouldn’t have been any.

“You see? There’s nowhere else for you, love. The world out there doesn’t deserve you. It never did.”

Your hands trembled. “That doesn’t mean you do.”

“You can fight me” he murmured. “You can scream, run, struggle. But it won’t change anything. Because in the end, I will always find you.”

“I will always bring you back.”

And as he leaned in, his lips barely a breath away from your ear, he whispered—

“So stop making this harder than it needs to be.”

#yandere x reader #yandere #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #hsr x you #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr x reader #phainon honkai star rail #phainon hsr #phainon x reader #hsr phainon #phainon

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enwoso · 3 days ago

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lovie as a newborn and just cute moments with alessia

MOMENTS WITH YOU | alessia x child!reader

nine cute little moments with lovie as a newborn/baby

grumpy masterlist

1. middle of the night talks.

— it was the middle of the night, 3:42am to be precise and alessia was busy pacing her bedroom as she rocked you gently in her arms, hoping it would lull you into sleep.

the soft glow of the nightlight casted a warm hue over the room, the only sound in the room was alessia's quiet shushing noises as she swayed from side to side.

"listen little one," alessia whispered, resting her cheek against your tiny head. "i love you more than anything but i need you to sleep."

your little lips smacked together, your body still fidgeting in your mummy's arms.

"i know, i know, it's a big scary world," alessia sighed rubbing soothing patterns on your back, "but lovie, i haven't had a solid four hours of sleep since your arrived. help me out?"

you responded with a soft whimper, burying your face deeper in your mummy's chest. alessia let out a tried chuckle, "you're lucky you're the cutest thing ever."

finally your tiny breaths evened out and alessia sat back down in the bed and your arms still wrapped protectively around you.

even in the exhaustion that was definitely piling up since you'd arrive just a little less than three weeks ago, there was something so peaceful about it. just the two of you in the little word, awake while everyone slept.

"you and me, baby," she whispered. "always."

—

2. facetime chaos.

you were curled up on your mummy's chest, your tiny body wrapped in a fluffy pink blanket as alessia propped her phone up against a pillow. her screen lighting up with a facetime call and soon, a chorus of excited voices filled the room.

"can we see her? let us see her!" ella shouted practically shoving millie out of her way just to get closer to the screen.

"chill guys!" alessia laughed, picking her phone up and turning the camera so the girls could see you, as you slept through the chaos.

"oh my days," katie breathed out as her hand went over her mouth, "she's so small"

"she's perfect less," maya beamed in awe, her eyes wide and filled with joy.

you stirred slightly, making a small noise as you cozied back into your mummy's arms. the noise making the whole group melting.

"less, you have to bring her to a match," millie said all the girls cheering in agreement as alessia smiled before adding that they'll have to wait till you were a little bit older.

"she needs her own tiny united kit too!" one of the girls piped up as a smirk appeared on alessia's face as they began to bicker about what name that you should have on the back of your tiny shirt.

"oh i already have one," alessia grinned, "she's gonna be the cutest mascot in history with the number twenty three!"

ella leaned closer to the screen, "little one, open your eyes if you wanna come live with auntie tooney."

you moved slightly but other than that you remained completely unfazed still fast asleep as small snores come from you.

"i think that's a no.." alessia grinned as the girls burst into laughter and for the first time in weeks since you had arrived, alessia felt like herself again.

sure, she was exhausted and her life had completely and utterly changed but for the best possible reason - but some things like her team and the love they shared for one another stayed exactly the same.

and now, she had you to share it with.

—

3. bath disaster.

alessia had seen plenty of videos on how to bathe a newborn, had advice from her midwife and her mum but none of them prepared her for how slippery a tiny wriggly newborn could be.

"alright lovie, this is supposed to be relaxing," alessia murmured as she gently lowered you into the warm water in your small baby tub.

your little arms flailed around as your face scrunched up as if you were considering whether to cry or not.

"it's okay," alessia soothed, cupping water over your belly and for a second it seemed like you were getting used to it, that you actually liked it but then suddenly you let out an ear piercing wail.

"oh no, no" alessia panicked slightly as she adjusted her grip, "lovie i swear i'm not trying to drown you!"

your tiny hands grasped at the air as your face turned bright red as you screamed.

"okay, bath times over," alessia announced as she lifted you out of the bath and quickly into a fluffy towel. "think that was a little traumatic for both of us, eh?"

you sniffled, still fussing as alessia sat on the floor of the bathroom, the same old hoodie which had baby milk and other days old stains on it as she brought you close into her chest rocking you gently.

"see? all good now," she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your damp forehead as your body still shook slightly from your sniffles as your cries got quiter.

not even two seconds late, just as alessia was finally calming herself down, you seemingly over the whole bath thing as you peed all over the clean towel.

"yeah, okay," alessia groaned slightly, the joys of motherhood, as she shook her head slightly. "next time, nonna is doing this-"

—

4. watching football together

it had been weeks since alessia had even thought about football properly. of course it had been there but for once it wasn't the forefront of her mind.

she missed it, missed the pitch, the team, the rush of playing but for right now her world revolved around you and soaking up as many firsts with her first born as she could. knowing these moments would form core memories.

but still she figured it was never too early to introduce you to the game.

getting herself comfy on the sofa as she settled you on her chest, facing the tv. the women's super league match on the big screen and the match was no other than — united vs arsenal.

"okay, lovie this is important," alessia whispered as she ran her fingers lightly over your back. "you gotta know the game if your gonna be the next best thing!"

you let out a tiny sigh, your small warm body relaxed against your mummy. no doubt as you were moments away from falling asleep.

"see, that's auntie mary in goal — best in the world and there's auntie tooney but don't ever listen to her when she tells you she's better than me!"

your hand twitched slightly and alessia chuckled, "you agree, don't you?"

for a little while, alessia just lay with you content in her arms as she stroked a thumb over the back of your hair, smoothing down the small baby hairs sticking up on the back of your head.

the quiet sounds of the game playing in the background as you eventually dozed off, completely content.

alessia smiled down at you, pressing her lips to the top of your head. "one day you'll be watching me out there again," she whispered, "and i hope i make you proud."

—

5. sleepy cuddles

it had been another long night. you'd been up every two hours, fussing and crying and alessia was running on fumes.

she lay on the back of the sofa, her body aching and mind foggy. you were finally asleep resting on your mummy's chest as your tiny fingers curled onto alessia's shirt.

alessia knew she could put you down in your crib and use this time to rest herself, have some time to herself but she couldn't bring herself to move.

instead she just tightened her arms around you and closed her eyes, as she listened to the soft rhythm of your breathing.

"one day you won't need to hold you like this," she whispered as she pressed a sleepy kiss to your forehead. "so i'm gonna hold you as much as i can now."

and with that, she left herself drift off, wrapped up in the safest place she knew — right there with her little girl.

—

6. family time with a side of chaos

it was the first proper family dinner since you'd arrived into the big world and as much as alessia loved her family she was starting to regret it.

her dad, mario was in the kitchen debating with her brother, giorgio about which way was the best way to cook pasta while luca was arguing with their younger cousins over who would be your favourite uncle.

meanwhile you, who was completely oblivious to everything going on as you were curled up in your car seat in a deep sleep.

alessia leaned back taking a sip of her water bottle, shaking her head slightly. "she can sleep through all this but wakes up the moment i put her in her crib at home?"

alessia's dad appeared beside her, placing a plate in front of her. "she's got italian in her less, she's already used to the noise." alessia just laughed as she picked up her fork.

as dinner was well under way, you'd woken up as you sat in your mummy's lap. brightly curious eyes looked around the dinner table as luca began to speak.

"right little one, time for your initiation!" luca smiled as alessia's head turned her brows raised in curiosity, wondering what it was.

"which is?"

her brothers as well as her parents all grinned the same smirk all on there lips as you sat curious and oblivious to everything going on around you.

gio help up a tiny baby spoon, "her first taste of pasta sauce!"

alessia's eyes went wide as she looked at the spoon which had a small amount of sauce on the spoon, a loud gasp leaving alessia's lips, "absolutely not!"

luca pouted, "oh cmon less, just a little-"

alessia stood firm, she hadn't realised they were just joking. "i will fight you." she warned, sending her brothers a warning glare.

luca sighed dramatically but leaned down to kiss the top of your forehead as your curious eyes watched everyone movements. "okay, but when she's older, i'm teaching her how to make proper pasta!"

alessia's mum, carol smirked, "not if i teach her first!"

alessia shook her head, but the smile that was presence on her lips won't go away. you may not of understood anything but you'd been born into a family that loved fiercely, argued loudly but would always, always have your back.

and really, what more could she ask for?

—

7. a typical sunday

sunday morning had always been slow and cozy in the russo househould. music would be playing in the kitchen as the smell of fresh coffee and toast filled the air.

everyone lazing around in their pyjamas long past breakfast and now with you in the mix, it was even better.

alessia sleepily shuffled into the kitchen, you tucked into her arms. her mum was already at the coffee machine placing alessia's cup near it as her dad sat at the table reading yet another sports magazine.

"morning" alessia yawned, using one hand to rub her eyes while the other kept a tight grip on you.

mario looked up from his reading and grinned, "morning, you two" he reached over rubbing a gentle hand over the top of your head, "did you let mummy sleep?"

alessia let out a tired laugh, "not even a little bit."

luca and gio walked in next, still both half asleep, but the second there eyes saw you, they perked up sighing a second.

"alright, give her here," luca smiled holding out his hands.

alessia hesitated as she looked down at your comfy position in her arms, "i literally just got her to settle."

giorgio just smirked, his quick mind thinking of a smart retort, "she just likes us better, just admit it!"

but before alessia could protest, luca carefully took you from the comfort of your mummy's arms and into his as he cradled you from side to side. you barely stirred as your tiny fingers grasped into his hoodie.

"your joking," alessia's groaned, "why does she always sleep for you lot?"

you mum chuckled, placing a hot cup of much needed coffee on the table for alessia, "cause she knows she had all of us wrapped around her little finger!"

alessia shook her head, she couldn't fight the warmth which spread through her chest. she looked around at her family.

her brother bickering over who would get to hold you next as her dad still stared at his granddaughter like she was the most fascinating thing he'd ever laid eyes on. as her mum watched over them all with a knowing smile.

—

8. first time at the theatre of dreams

alessia hadn't made her return to the pitch just yet, but she was close. close enough that she was itching to be able to lace her boots up again.

for now though, she was in the stands with you watching as united took on chelsea under the bright lights of old trafford.

you were bundled in a warm red jacket, and matching red hat covering your soft hair and your own little pair of ear defenders to keep out the loud noises. your own little united kit on underneath your full body jacket which kept you warm under the chilled air of manchester.

alessia held you close, whispering the commentary into your ear. "there's mary, in goal - she'll make sure you never see a bad keeper in your life" alessia whispered as mary made a diving save.

"and there tooney - she's basically mummy's right hand but she can be a little silly but we love her anyway!"

you just yawned, unimpressed. alessia laughed, as she tucked another blanket around the two of you. "you're gonna love it here, baby i promise."

as the final whistle blew and the score ended level. alessia feeling a rush of emotions. emotions she'd missed while being out. but soon she'd be back out there again and this time she'd have someone extra special watching from the stands.

—

9. first time watching mummy play

alessia knew you would never remember it but she would, she would never forget it. her first game for united back playing football.

the roar of the crowd as the adrenaline filled her body as she was back on the pitch. and then after the final whistle she spotted her family in the stands.

you were bundled up in a tiny red united beanie one that had been specially made just for you as you were fast asleep in your nonna's arms.

alessia's heart clenched. she jogged over her body tired and breathless as she leaned over the barrier a big smile back on her face. "she seriously slept through my whole comeback?"

carol just laughed, "less she's just a baby. she doesn't understand what's going on!"

alessia shook her head but she was still smiling, nothing could stop her from doing that. "unbelievable."

she reached out and over the barrier as she brushed a gentle hand over your little cheek. one day, alessia would tell you all about it. but for now it was more than enough to know her little girl had been there.

#alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso blurbs #woso one shot #woso fanfics #ella toone #man utd women #england wnt #grumpy universe #grumpy universe asks #enwoso

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prismaticlove · 3 days ago

Text

This is something we have come to genuinely revere over the years-- the everyday sharing of small, quiet, ordinary, mundane moments.

True love, deep love, honest love, is quiet and deep and always. It necessarily includes the countless moments of countless days inbetween the brighter fireworks and sparks that, truly, can only bloom and burn from building a foundation of treasured tiny things.

I used to be so ashamed of my existence, of my life, that I wouldn't let anyone into my everydays. I wanted to wipe them off the map. But the ones I love have compasses for hearts and they always found me, always saw me with bright new eyes, always made me feel like something special and worthy of discovering solely because I was loved, loved against all odds and ends, in sickness and in poverty and trauma and failure. They stood with me still, at the kitchen table, at the bathroom sink, at the bus stop, in the emergency room. They started noting the little things that I had long since become numb and even disdainful towards. Their love was gold dust on my days. It still is.

I'm still terrified of intimacy. I've got too many wounds; I see too many threats. But there's a softness to those threadbare ordinalities that I too can hold gentle in my hands and it's new, how wonderful and strange is that, it's new and strange and precious and different and beautiful... all because someone loved me enough to share it with me, for a moment.

It makes every moment worth living, really.

...personally, i first felt the impact of this truth in march 2012, on one of the "turnpoint mornings" in my life... "[chaos 0] randomly asked me what i was eating and i said 'the usual,' and he replied that he wouldn't know what the usual was. then he paused, looking surprisingly sad, and said that was kind of tragic. he realized that he really didn't know as much about me as he should, if we couldn't even do everyday things together. and that did hurt. we were effectively married and we'd never lived together, god isn't that just heartbreakingly ironic."

and then, ten years later, in november 2022, as we started to pick up the pieces from a massive life upheaval... "I ate breakfast with [chaos 0], both of us sitting by the window. He was just sitting on the floor by the bookshelf, looking at me and the world outside, a perfectly content look in his eyes. I wondered at this, and asked him if he was all right just sitting there, especially while I was eating-- I wasn’t doing anything special, and he didn’t have to stick around. He replied, “I’m just sharing life with you. That’s special enough.”

and now, in just two more years, we've all grown so much closer, it's amazing. it pulls at my heartstrings so hard, to see that growth in the archives, to feel that playing out ever more deeply in my life, and to know at the very core of me what we all have now-- to know each other, more than we ever have before, and yet not as much as we will tomorrow. i want to write about this in depth soon. it's pure joy, all of it.

https://evelionheart.medium.com/on-the-intimacy-of-the-mundane-863f9efb3c39

#for chaos 0 #for genesis #for laurie #for infinitii #i want to have this with more of us #life together #selfship community

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abedmajeed · 2 days ago

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What Strength Really Means 💪

Hey everyone, my name is Abdelmajed, and this is my story.

I grew up in Gaza, a place that was once full of life. I had dreams, hopes, and a deep love for my home. But in a matter of months, everything changed. I lost my home. I lost my sense of security. I lost people I loved more than anything in the world. 💔

People often talk about strength like it’s something you can see—something loud, something powerful. But I’ve learned that true strength is often quiet.

Strength is waking up every morning when you don’t know what the day will bring. Strength is carrying the memories of those you’ve lost, while still choosing to move forward. Strength is believing in a better tomorrow, even when today feels impossible.

I don’t share my story for sympathy. I share it because I know that there is still kindness in this world. I still believe in people, in love, in hope. And I know that no matter what happens, I will keep going. Because that’s what strength really is.

If you’ve read this far, thank you. Just knowing that someone out there is listening means the world to me. 💙

And I'm now waiting to be Vetted by @gazavetters 🙏

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ssahotchnerr · 17 hours ago

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omg Katie i was rewatching s7 (as one does) and ohhhh my gosh I forgot how delicious and gorgeous beard!Hotch is😔😔 he’s just soo!!

I can’t stop thinking about maybe the beard making a comeback while on vacation or something, him being all domestic with that beard — and it’s just such a change from his usual suit and tie lawyer important job vibe😔 sorry just thought to share and wanted to know what you think of him <3333

while on vacation

i just couldn't not write a fic about this 🤭 bearded aaron my beloved cw; fem!reader, established relationship, jack calls reader mom, domestic fluff with a hint of spice❤️‍🔥, light suggestion <3 wc; 1.2k

"Don't scrunch up your face so much," you laughed gently, applying sunscreen thoroughly across Jack's face. Whether it was his forehead, the bridge of his nose, or his cheeks, he either attempted to move out of the way or scowled further in protest.

"But I don't like it," Jack complained. "It's cold and smells funny."

"I know you don't bud, but the last thing you want is to get sunburnt," you told him, your eyes sympathetic. "The sun here is a lot more harsh compared to how it is at home. I'd hate for you to be miserable, and not have as much fun because of it."

"I guess. It stings my eyes sometimes too."

"Just try your hardest not to touch your face, and you should be okay," you reassured him, snapping the sunscreen shut and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "Plus, I don't think you want your father's lecture on the importance of SPF."

Speaking of - "Aaron?" you called out. "Are you almost ready?"

"Yeah..." You heard him sigh from the bathroom, the faint sound of him searching through his toiletry bag audible. "I forgot to pack my razor."

You grabbed Jack's hat and placed it atop his head, angling it more downwards to playfully cover his eyes. You got to your feet, meeting Aaron in the bathroom. "You? Forgot to pack something? What happened to the spreadsheet?"

"I don't make spreadsheets for everything," Aaron laughed at your teasing, an inquisitive expression soon taking form on his face. "Do you think the hotel carries razors?"

"I don't see why they wouldn't."

"Or we'll just have to stop at a store later," he shook his head, giving up his search and zipping up his bag.

"Or we could just... not," you suggested, pushing yourself off the doorframe and running your hands under water quickly. Once clean of any lingering sunscreen remnants, you gripped onto Aaron's polo, your hands soon roaming his torso.

An amused grin formed on his face, "Oh?"

"We're on vacation. That means getting out of routine, taking it easy, not shaving." You shrugged, continuing your flirtatious touch by toying with the collar of his shirt. "So what if a light beard makes an appearance. It wouldn't be the end of the world."

"And that's the only reason, right?" Aaron inquired as a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his eyes gleaming with a playful understanding. "That we're on vacation?"

You weren't slick, and he knew it. However, your request did surprise him - you've only seen him with a beard once when he returned home from Pakistan, short lived as Jack despised it. But you hadn't mentioned it since.

You widened your eyes, feigning innocence, "I can't imagine there being another reason."

He lowered his voice, leaning in close. "Just say it turns you on sweetheart, it's alright."

Surprised at his sudden forwardness you immediately blushed, but he also wasn't wrong. However, before you had the chance to respond -

"Mom, Dad, you coming?" Jack asked, waiting patiently at the door with his beach towel in hand.

"Yeah, we're coming." Aaron clicked off the light, his hand finding your lower back. As he guided you out of the bathroom, it wandered further down, causing you to playfully push it away with a giggle before any young eyes could see. "Did Mom put sunscreen on you?"

He got a groan in response.

Over the course of the next few days, Aaron obliged, heeding your wishes and not shaving. It was mere stubble for a day or two, which was still a sight to see. But towards the end of the week, the beard was coming in wonderfully.

With his dark hair, slightly tousled from the laid-backness of the week's pace, the beard also complemented the sharpness of his features. It brought out the color of his eyes, enhancing their deep, intense color. His jawline, which could make you go weak in the knees any day, was more defined, a perfect contrast to the soft yet rugged texture of his beard.

Add in his sunglasses, the sweaty t-shirt clinging to his body at times due to the heat, and his developing tan, you were absolutely swooning. It was nearly impossible to tear your gaze away from him.

Even the smallest of things were driving you wild. Aaron simply placed breakfast in front of Jack one morning; face adorned by his beard, conversing with his son naturally, the domesticity had you fluttering in all ways. You found yourself wishing you had the same request on your honeymoon.

In addition, the slow vacation mornings also allowed you the time to admire Aaron before he awoke, peaceful and content in sleep. For the first time in a while too, he looked well rested.

Jack had been worn out and sleeping in also, due to the sun exposure and the long-yet-fun days catching up to him. It thankfully granted you and Aaron some much appreciated time to spend alone together.

"Good morning," you mumbled softly when Aaron's eyes found yours, reaching up slightly to press a kiss to his lips, his jaw, neck, anywhere you could reach. You continued to litter him with kisses, before full-on straddling him.

Aaron chuckled, his hands landing on your hips. His voice was still rough with sleep, peering up at you with his sleep-heavy eyelids. "I'd say it is."

You laughed softly against his skin, pulling his t-shirt collar down, giving you access to kiss his chest.

"What do I need to do to get a wakeup call like this every day?"

After pressing one more kiss to his collarbone, you sat up, remaining on top of him. "I can't believe it's our last full day," you whined as a dull filled you; back to the city, back to normalcy, back to clean-shaven Aaron.

He hummed in agreement, his finger tracing the tan line from your bikini bottoms, visible above the waistline of your pj shorts. "It did go by fast, didn't it?"

You nodded, your shoulders slumping as your bottom lip protruded in a pout.

"Are you mourning the end of our time off, or the fact that the beard will be leaving," Aaron questioned, an admirable glint in his eyes. Again, he looked thoroughly relaxed laid against his pillow, his hair sticking out in all directions as he gazed at you.

"Both," you sighed, cupping his jaw and letting your thumb graze his stubble. "Don't get me wrong, I adore seeing your clean and attractive face. But I am going to miss this."

"I'll tell you what, I'll keep it a few more days. To allow you to enjoy it thoroughly, in the privacy of our bedroom." He sat up, positioning you on his lap and easily bringing his lips to yours. With Jack so close, the two of you hadn't been very adventurous in fear of being caught. "And maybe it'll make an appearance more often. Since you like it so much." He mumbled lowly amidst the fierce kiss, a light smirk tugging at the ends of his mouth.

You pulled back briefly, a finger pressed to his chest. "Is that a promise?"

"Definitely."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x fem!reader

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sh1-n0bu · 2 days ago

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I just saw elf bf post and id like to suggest for your consideration: elf bf learning what kink is and learning that he has some very unorthodox (for an elf) interests. Maybe he is intrigued by crossdressing, cuckolding, or exhibitionism/voyuerism because the idea is so taboo to an elf. Maybe he wants to try bondage or total power exchange because he’s always been told that partnerships are always equal (or that elves are better than humans) and submitting to a mortal partner makes him feel rebellious (but at the same time he feels safe because the person dominating him is his partner who he trusts). Maybe he has a praise kink because he doesn’t often get told “you’re a good boy and I’m proud of you.”

So many options! I wonder what you’ll do with them? 👀

ouuhhhhh anon this is such a big brain thing, lemme crawl inside ur skull

elves, by the standard of the world so far since nearly the beginning of time, has always been deemed as the ‘best’ race to ever walk the lands. tall, regal, elegant, fairest and wisest eternal beings who don’t even get sick. wounds heal quick unless they’re mortal, or of the broken heart. they don’t tire easily nor are they quick to fall. the perfect race

so what happens when said perfect race falls in love with the imperfect one? when an elf falls in love with a human? and said relationship is taken seriously between said lovers, bound for eternity together, blessed by the stars and the moon? well, you get something like you and your elf husband, a human and an elf, happily married

and extremely happy in the bedroom too

as the most perfect race, elves always had a certain amount of ego to themselves. it’s not so high and mighty to the point they could die if they fall from said ego’s height, but it’s always there. it’s like an instinctive feeling, akin to how humans are instinctively stubborn and passionate. too emotional. and due to their ‘perfection’, elves barely get any words of hostility aimed towards them unless it’s by a few passing dwarves or their kin who had been angered. praise has always been a normal thing to fall upon their pointy ears, so much so they count it as the norm

so for an elf to being into degraded, it is rare and frowned upon. why would the most perfect creatures require any words other than the highest form of acknowledgment? but your husband was into it. and you too, to certain extent. whispering filth into those cute, pointy twitching ears of how disgusting and vile he is to enjoy having human hands on him gets his cock hard in his pants within milliseconds. calling him a slut for moaning out loud when you simply grasp his hair has him rubbing his thighs together, feeling the familiar aching heat in his groin. and stars, have mercy on him when you lean in, strong arms caging him from behind between your warm body and the table as you spit out, “pointy eared whore” into the skin of his neck, hot breath sending shivers down his body. by that point, your elf husband’s all but clawing at your clothes, hopping onto the table all too eagerly as he spreads his legs for you

crossdressing is a mixed feeling for the elven race entirely for one, they are just such an eternally graceful beings to the point it becomes hard to tell the difference between some of their genders and two, their clothes share a lot of similar things. long, flowing clothes made of the finest materials any hands could ever touch

but your hubby loves it! the soft and frilly skirts, the smoothness of the dresses or even the breezy laces and provocative bras and thin underwear with straps to keep them up on the flesh of his hips. and don’t even get him started on his love for the ‘dancer’ outfit. the long loincloth like skirt, the golden chains at the sides to keep them perched on his waist and the tiniest bras possible paired with the mouth covering cloth. your elf husband is your private entertainer for the whole night, swaying his hips, twisting his hands and running them over the curves of his body as he gives you the most shit eating grin underneath the mouth cloth, makeup covered eyes narrowing hypnotically at you

it wouldn’t last too long on his lips when he’s being fucked in the very same outfit, being forced to keep the skirt to the side by his hands so you wouldn’t get it dirty for his next dance. not like it ever happens, your elf hubby’s a little crybaby, whining about how mean and rough you’re handling your dancer, sobbing fat tears about how your rough human hands were leaving bruises on his soft, creamy skin

owh lawddd the amount of times he pulled you to the side, into an empty room or behind some particularly huge tree when out on a walk so you could fuck him behind it has lost count. exhibitionism seems to be one of his favorites since he loves it so much, giggling about a quickie or “i promise, i’ll be silent this time” when you both know it’s not true at all

keep his one leg up with a hand hooked under his knee, pushing his chest flush against the cold marble walls or the bark of the tree for him to cling for stability while the filthy wet smacks of your cock constantly squeezing into his tight hole fills the area. just as loud as the whimpers of your pointy eared husband, whose ears twitch and droop so cutely. who bites down onto his hands and knuckles to shut himself up to no avail, always stuttering out “r-rough..! sho rough♡︎! can’t—can’t haaagh h-hold it i-eek hiigc! c-can’t hold it in ’nymoowr♡︎” as if he wasn’t the one who asked you to pound his pathetic hole until he was seeing stars. it’s as if he doesn’t care that someone could hear or even stars forbid, see them right now! doing such a dirty and private deed out in public place, where any elf with their sharp senses could hear, see or even smell the musky scent of sex

your elf husband’s boobs always jiggle so cutely whenever you fuck him, bouncing as you thrust the strap into his soppy hole. who even has a bit of a thing for feminization, whining out how you were fucking his womb, “y-nyur human d-dick is kissingg ma-agh my cerviiixx♥︎!!”, who rubs a hand over his slightly bloated belly with a dazed look in his eyes, slurring of “… got knocked up… by a human heheeh..♡︎” as if he could get pregnant. who has the cutest shrill squeals whenever you suckle on his nipples, biting around his areola to leave a mark as he weakly slaps at your back, speaking of how fucking animalistic and bestial you are

“s-so cruel… such a vile mortal—!”

elf husband who loves loves lovessssss bondage and sensory deprivation! an absolute rope bunny, he is! choosing the most finest and softest silk in the color he likes for special days, picking up the harsh and rough material ropes for the days when he wants to feel the sting, the pain, the adventure. who is into being tortured and overstimulated, forced to cum beyond what he is used to by your rough hands or hot mouth while his words turn to incoherent babbles as he tugs uselessly against his bindings. he’s just a weak, helpless little bunny in your lair, hungry wolf! please be gentle with your sharp fangs on his tender skin and smooth planes of muscle. such a sweet, innocent bunny like him could never handle the rough mating of days and nights a hungry wolf like you have planned for him♡︎

a bit of a masochistic elf husband who loves to have his senses deprived off of him. hands tied behind him, legs tied in a spread out manner and blindfolded with a dark cloth over his eyes. leave his ears free and make him try and guess what you would do to him. snap a belt or a riding crop onto your hand and watch as he flinches, jolting in place at the sound, wondering when and where it would land on his perfect body. his thighs? arms? chest? stomach? or perhaps even his cock and you would be mean enough to make him count how many hits it takes until he is cumming untouched, soiling his stomach as his blush spread all the way to his shoulders due to the whole shame. make him ponder, make him squeal at the unexpectedness, make him cry out in surprise, make him shake in the excitement of it all. he can take whatever pain and pleasure your human hands could dish out

and when he gets too loud, just shove something into his mouth. maybe a peace of cloth or even your own undergarments, whichever fits, whichever you want. he’ll be chewing on them and wetting it with his tears and saliva by the end of it

aiya yall are corrupting me. animals animals

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azzandra · 2 days ago

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Aw, man, can't believe it's been two years since I wrote that.

When I reblogged and added my little commentary, I actually hadn't anticipated my comment to be reblogged by more than a couple of mutuals or be seen outside of my followers. I was just sharing a term that popped up in my head as a joke.

If I knew this glib comment I dashed off one morning without much thought was going to breach containment and take on a life of its own, I probably would have added a few disclaimers.

Since then, I've seen some people miss the point about what I was talking about in a few huge ways, so I'll clarify now a few points:

I have nothing against the cockroach wife dude.

I don't know if that story is true or not (there are some weird people out in the world, so I won't dismiss it out of hand, but like. come on) and I sincerely do not care that his spankbank was exclusively taken up by a cockroach woman. The part of his tale that we should take as a parable is where he solely and without being forced by anyone else hinged his entire sexuality around an imaginary construct that then made him incapable of being attracted to real human women. Remember, his story starts with him complaining that he can't get it up with his human girlfriend without picturing her as a huge cockroach. He did that. Nobody forced him to develop this condition. This is a lesson for the rest of us.

people going 'I think they're both pretty!' like that's the centrist silver bullet to this phenomenon.

Listen, yeah. I agree. Both versions are meant to be attractive, just to wildly different demographics. You know who doesn't agree? The guys I'm talking about.

The dudes I am referencing do NOT think both characters are attractive to different people. They think the original is attractive to NOBODY, and everyone else in the world is just PRETENDING that the first one is attractive in any way, and they're convinced everyone else also objectively knows the original art is ugly but there's a conspiracy to subject poor defenseless heterosexual men to pictures of butt-ugly women in order to brainwash them or something.

The guys afflicted with Cockroach Wife Syndrome are on some gamerbro qanon shit where their perception of reality is slanted to a comical degree, but they think their experiences are objective and unbiased, and they're making it everyone else's problem.

people smugly going 'OP has an anime girl in their icon' like that's some sort of gotcha

Yeah, man, I'm not opposed to anime girls. I'm not even opposed to hentai, or blender porn, or masturbation. I think everyone deserves to masturbate if they want to, and the way the world is going, we all probably deserve to masturbate a lot more (porn addiction isn't a real thing, my dudes). I accept that some people are going to jerk it to stuff that I don't find attractive, and maybe consider repulsive, and that's just going to be a fact of life from here unto eternity. We all need to come to terms to that.

But the Cockroach Wife Syndrome sufferers do NOT want to accept it. They want the entire world to have only one porn preference that aligns neatly to their own, and also they want all fictional depictions of women everywhere to adhere precisely to their porn preference.

And like, why would we do what these guys say? Now, me, personally, each time I see one of their yassified sexy edits of an already pretty female character, it always looks like the tackiest shit to me, like they're a toddler who got into mommy's make-up. I want to start a GoFundMe to send them to beautician school. I don't care how much they screech about it, they cannot convince me their aesthetic tastes are something to emulate, so I coined this term for them just so I had a name for their obnoxious behavior.

All that being said, in the time since I wrote this post, I discovered it gained some traction outside of tumblr. "Cockroach Wife Syndrome" was added to Urban Dictionary. There are people slinging around the term on twitter. I personally got jumpscared by running into it in the wild on reddit, which was how I found out people are actually using it. Honestly, I am not that hyped about this being my legacy (and I am so sorry to the OP of this post that I got them stuck with seeing every reply or tag someone ever makes about the cockroach wife guy, like I'm some malevolent storytime cuckoo who dropped disturbing internet tales in their nest). But ultimately, I think this one is actually on the thousands of people who reblogged it and considered that I described a phenomenon that they also observed.

Y'all stay safe out there, and remember to vary your masturbation material once in a while.

i wish i could see this picture for the first time again

#and this is my final word on the subject

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yailtsv · 2 days ago

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Secret - p.b

💌 Syn: Azzi’s younger sister dates one of their teammates behind Azzi’s back

»»— warnings: none i don’t think

»»— notes: i hate how this one turned out 🤠

»»— word count: 917

»»— pair: Paige x Fudd!Gfreader

“shhh we gotta be quiet” you tell paige after she knocked something off of your dresser when sneaking in

paige just ignores you and picks up what she dropped and then closed and locked your bedroom door - heading towards you.

you and azzi share a dorm together with caroline, carols asleep and azzi’s in her room doing homework, so what did you do? called your girlfriend to come over

but…said girlfriend has to sneak in because you both are hiding your relationship. azzi would not approve of your relationship and you both aren’t gonna ask your teammates to lie for you so you can be public around them, that’s just insane.

so that gets you to where you are right now - watching paige get clothes from the bottom drawer of your dresser, and then changing into those clothes

“movie and cuddles?” paige asked after putting the clothes she just took off, onto your desk chair for her to grab when she leaves

you nod, already getting in your bed and under the covers, making paige do the same

you both fell asleep watching the movie, all cuddled up together. but you both woke up to consistent knocking, only waking up fully when you heard azzi say through the door “alright fine i’m using the key” making both of you sit up startled, but before you could move and push paige into your closet the door had opened and in walked azzi.

you could see azzi’s facial expression change, you could tell when she put the scene in front of her together in her brain, you could also see the look of hurt and betrayal all across her face

“az-“ “no! do not say anything!” she tells you before turning to face paige “you’re sleeping with my sister? AFTER i told you she was off limits?”

paige doesn’t really know what to say. azzi’s right, she did tell paige that you were off limits - and has been telling her since paige and azzi first met - which was years ago. paige did follow through with that, up until last year.

she never showed she was attracted to you - she was even in denial with her feelings for you. she always treated you as a friend - a very close friend but a friend.

she never thought you and her would eventually become a thing, she always fully intended to keep you at arms length - so that azzi wouldn’t be mad at her.

she’s not really sure on the time stamp of when she accepted her feelings, but whenever it was, was one of the greatest days. the even better day, was when she finally decided to do something with her feelings - that’s the day you guys started dating.

you and her have been dating for a little over a year now. she thought you guys wouldn’t be caught this far along, and she was wrong, and she’s having a difficult time on swallowing this pill.

“az- i’m sorry” paige stutters out, kinda overwhelmed with this situation “YOU’RE sorry?! you can date anyone in the world, and you chose the ONE person that i said was off limits, and you’re sorry?!”

“azzi i’m an adult, i can date who i want to date.” you tell her, wanting this conversation to be over

“you’re also my little sister dating MY best friend.” azzi responded back, still mad about the situation “why are you making it sound like she’s not my friend too? we’re all teammates, we’re all friends, we didn’t tell you we were seeing each other because we knew you were gonna act like this.”

“act like what?! i told both of you that i didn’t want you guys to ever date each other and look what’s happening now! you guys couldn’t of just respected that wish? i don’t ask anything of either of you but the one thing i do, you go behind my back and do it any ways?”

“azzi that’s not fair-“ paige starts but got cut off “fair?! you wanna talk about being fair?” “if you would let me talk that would be great!” paige said after cutting azzi off

azzi stopped talking and crossed her arms over her chest looking at paige expectingly “go on”

“we both did what you asked. we ignored each other romantically until last year, we spent all of our time together since me and you met at arms length, we’ve done everything, and unexpectedly fell for each other in that time. we are both adults, we can both do what we want - and what we want is to be with each other. you can’t stop us from dating, we’ve respected your wish this whole time but you never say why we can’t date you just say to not date, and that’s not fair at all. if your gonna forbid us from doing something at least tell us why. and until you can come up with a good reason - we’re gonna continue seeing each other”

azzi just looks at paige, her arms still crossed over her chest “i love her” paige replied again after a few moments of silence

azzi doesn’t say anything but after a few seconds walks out the door and back to her room. you and paige both make eye contact before sighing out loud

🏷️ @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @authentic-girl03 @ldapper

requested on wattpad

#paige bueckers x y/n #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x reader #uconn x fem reader #uconn x reader #wnba x reader #yailtsv’s works 📝

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iamgonnagetyouback-recs · 3 days ago

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SIRIUS BLACK.ᐟ

a little list of my favorite stories ୨ৎ remember to be kind, reblog, and support the wonderful authors who share their magic with us.ᐟ

NOTE ಇ. none of these stories belong to me ♡ if you’d like your fic removed, just send me a message, and i’ll take care of it!

date by @sun-kissy

⁀➴༯ sirius for some reason thinks you have a crush on regulus

REVIEW ୨ৎ oh my god the tension in this had me actually holding my breath, san. sirius being all dramatic and broody while reader is just exhausted with potions?? perfect. but then the confrontation?? my heart hurt for both of them. sirius being jealous and insecure and reader being so confused but so soft when she realizes what's happening. and the james/regulus mention?? peak comedy. the ending was so sweet, i'm actually kicking my feet