#its literally the same thing as back then

[catmask]

meowdy! looks like our move to a new apartment is not going to be so peaceful after all - our old apartment is currently leaking sewage water and we have to evacuate four people and two cats! donations are appreciated, but im opening an emergency sale + commissions too! (more under the cut)

KO-FI SHOP SALE + EMERGENCY COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN!

DISCOUNT CODE IS 'LEAK' IN ALL CAPS

so for this section, i'm going to break down everything thats happening + when things will come off hiatus! i'm hoping that everything will be set up in the new place by JUNE 1st, so that is the hard deadline i'm setting to start all functions up again as usual.

WHAT'S HAPPENING?

two years ago, my fiance and i were offered emergency housing when we (very suddenly and tragically) became the parents to his orphaned little sister. both of us are only 26 and had to move 8 hours from where we had been living at the time, so the housing we had was the best 2 people with few connections and no established jobs could find within a single weeks notice.

since then, we have been saving up and working to finally have a proper place to live. and we did so! at the beginning of this month we found an apartment where all of us can move to. we have a friend staying with us who is helping with the move as well.

i really wanted this move to be seamless - basically, you wouldn't have had to know it was happening. we were going to pay double rent for two months while i would stream and work from the old place, and begin sleeping at the new one. its expensive, but i didn't want my real life to trouble anyone here.

unfortunately this is no longer possible. the old building we were staying at had a pipe begin to leak, then eventually flood our entire apartment. this has been a reoccurring problem the landlord hasn't seemed to find a solution for, and it's led to a biohazard where we were planning on slowly moving from - leading to an immediate and emergency evacuation for the safety of everyone in our family.

SO... STREAMING?

will be back online as soon as possible! we moved out our tech as soon as we could due to fear of water damage, and it seems like everything is A-OK. we just need to rebuild my desk and sound proof the new room, so this will probaaabbly be back online within a week? im just going to take the week off to make sure everything is set up and there are no bugs. (digital. digital bugs.)

LAIKA'S COMET?

for the sake of not losing my buffer crazystyle, i'm pausing laika's until JUNE 1st. but i'm going to post one more page right now to leave you guys on a cliffhanger because i think it's funny. (the ko-fi will still update as regular as i finish pages! tbh, in between moving i am going to be drawing.... a LOT... it's like my only self soothing activity i have access to right now </3)

SHOP STUFF?

you basically won't notice a difference. orders go out every 2 weeks anyway, and literally the day before this happened we completely caught up to date. that + all of the goods we had were already moved over because (similar to the tech) we were worried about water damage, so nothing will be yucky... (i dont know if i can say the same about our furniture or clothes ; _ ; )

FINAL NOTES

while we did manage to get out with emergency bags and a weeks worth of outfits + things to sleep on + cook with, we have no real means of knowing the extent of damage until we bring things out of the apartment and clean them here. thankfully *most* things appear undamaged, its largely the flooring and the smell that are unliveable... walking through puddles of sewage water and having to wear a mask to breathe is not really liveable conditions.

however, considering this move is sped up way faster than planned, and i wont be able to work during it - any sales or donations are hugely appreciated. ; w ;

i'm sorry to ask for help like this, and its only if you are comfortable to do so!!! i can work hard, so i don't mind doing a little extra art to make money, this is just if you feel okay to help out and would like to.

if you read this far, thank you so much - hopefully next time i will return with good news - and maybe a new apartment tour...?

[coldfanbou]

In Heat

Here we go! So I ended up going with the winner of the poll...mostly because where I live also went through a heat wave, so yeah. Anyway, here we are with some hot and heavy stepcest action...literally and figuratively

Length 2.8K

Eunbi X Mreader

Life was very hard right now, despite everything you and your family tried. The heat wave running through the area was unbearable in its own right. What made it worse was having to watch your stepmother walking around the house in her bikinis, day after day, she would be around in them. Her heavy bust had nearly spilled out more than a handful of times as she moved around the house. You could hardly look at her; you would get hard in seconds, staring at her perfectly shaped body. You didn’t say anything, though; it wasn’t your place, either, considering this was her home, too. Still it was a problem you couldn’t so much as leave your room without catching a glimpse of her bending over to pic something up, showing that perfect ass of hers off. 

You had dreams about her, about your father’s wife. You wanted Eunbi. She was absolutely beautiful, and those bikinis she wore left little to the imagination. 

You peeked out of your room, and with no Eunbi insight, you went to the kitchen, hoping to get something cold to drink. As you searched through the fridge, you heard her. “Honey? Can you get me something to drink, too?” Honey, that’s what Eunbi called you. It was weird enough to hear her call you, considering she was only a little bit older than you. Add in the fact that she was also your stepmother, and it was weirder. That being said, knowing that she had called out to you, you grab a bottle of water for her and head toward the living room.

Walking in, you see her in another bikini. Eunbi was lying on the floor, sweat running down her face and legs, just as slick from the sweating she was doing. You paused, taking in the sight before you, Eunbi had her legs spread, you could just see the blue of her bikini bottoms poking out from under the white skirt she had on. Her breasts were bulging out of the top of her bikini top. You were getting hard quickly, and it would be tough if she spotted that. You shake your head and walk over to her, placing the bottle beside her before turning on your heel, ready to walk out. “Honey,” you pause, hoping she didn’t see your bulge. “Do you think your father is going to come home soon?”

You breathe a sigh of relief, “I don’t know Eunbi. He always goes on these sorts of trips. Sometimes he comes back in a day or two, and other times it’s like a month.” You say honestly. 

“Right,” Eunbi responds, dejected. “I knew he would be gone for work a lot, but I didn’t think it would be this lonely. Do you want to play a game? I could use the company.” There was a hint of hopelessness in her voice, and as much as you didn’t want to be in the same room with her for fear of her seeing your bulge. You also felt bad for her. You saw the relationship they had firsthand, you heard about how your father would stop his trips and finally settle down again, but since the wedding, he’s been gone more than ever. You understood how Eunbi must feel, being told one thing but then getting the opposite. 

“Sure, what kind of game did you have in mind?” You turn around, sitting as quickly as possible, trying to avoid staring at Eunbi’s heavy chest. You focus on her face, seeing a slight smile form as you accept the invitation. 

Eunbi purses her lips as she considers what game to play. She rolls onto her stomach, crawling over to the TV stand, searching through the drawers. You can’t help but stare at her ass, it shakes from side to side as she looks. It was shapely, and your imagination runs wild. You imagine what it must be like to take her from behind, feeling what must be the soft piece of flesh pressing against you as you drive yourself deep into her. 

Eunbi kneels, finding a game she thinks would be good for the two of you. She turns herself around and places the box in front of you, Jenga. “This should be a little fun.” She says, a slight smile on her lips. She lifts the box and begins setting up the game, block by block. “It’s been so hot, hasn’t it?” She says, her eyes glued to the growing structure. 

“Yeah, it’s been pretty hot.”

“I’ve had to wear my bikinis in the house. It’s insane we don’t have air conditioning; these fans aren’t helping either. Eunbi sticks her tongue out, focusing intently on the tower, making sure no piece sticks out. Sweat moves down her neck, running between her heavy mounds. Your thoughts go wild again as you imagine lapping up the sweat between her tits, the moans she would make a response fill your ears for a moment. Your cock twitches as you think about it. You shake your head and push the idea out. 

Eunbi finishes setting up the game and looks up at you, noticing where your eyes were. A slight blush moves across her face. “The game's ready. Do you want to go first?”

“Uh, no, you should go first. You set it up.”

“Okay,” Eunbi looks at the tower and nudges a piece from the very bottom, pushing it out slowly until she’s able to reach around and pull it out. The shake shakes slightly, but there isn’t a threat of it falling yet. Switching to your turn, Eunbi eyes you while you focus on the game. She scans you up and down, noticing the bulge in your shorts. More than shock, there was intrigue. Whether it was because of the heat messing with her mind or loneliness, Eunbi felt a pang in her chest. She squeezed her legs together and stared at the outline in your shorts. “Bigger,” she thought to herself, biting her lip. 

“There we go,” you call out, grabbing the piece you pulled out. 

Eunbi shifts her focus onto the game. She leans forward, giving you a look into the valley between her mounds. She only realizes what she is doing as she glances at you, noting how much you are staring at her chest. She pulls another block out, placing it back on the top of the tower. 

It was back to you. The game continued with both of you staring at the other when it wasn’t your turn. The desire each of you held for the other was growing. Eunbi, at one point, had removed her skirt, saying it was getting uncomfortable. It was difficult to concentrate with Eunbi in her bikini before, but now that you had an unblocked view of her shapely legs, it was another beast entirely. Eunbi noticed your cock twitch as you stared at her body. Seeing the reaction pleased her. She was craving more, her mind began to imagine how big you were, and it was getting her wet. Still, you both played on piece by piece, and the tower became more unstable.

The tower was becoming unstable, threatening to fall over at any moment. “How about we make this a little more fun?” Eunbi asks, a teasing smile on her face. 

You wonder what she means, “More fun?”

“Yeah, interesting might be a better word. How about the loser takes off a piece of their clothing?” She says boldly, almost confident that she would win. 

“I- that’s kind of…”

“Are you afraid you might lose to your mommy?” Eunbi teases, sticking her tongue out at you. 

“Okay, you’re on.” You reply, your competitive spirit stirring in response. You watch the tower intently. It was a mess of missing pieces, the middle pieces almost completely gone. You spot your target, though, one section already had one of the edge pieces taken, you would take the other, leaving a single middle piece to hold up the tower. You make slight taps to the piece, nudging it out of place before tugging it out and carefully placing it back on top. 

It was Eunbi’s turn. She glanced at you before turning her eyes to the tower. “You know I haven’t lost a game in a long time.” Eunbi wasn’t after a win, at least not in this game. She picked her spot, going for something risky. She licked her lips, waiting for what came next. Looking at the level where you just took a piece, Eunbi was going to “attempt” to flick the last piece out, getting rid of one level entirely. The confident look on her face had you convinced she’d be able to do it. Eunbi’s smirk faded as she smacked her hand against the block. The tower fell down one level, shaking before it collapsed. It was all going to plan. She sighed at the loss and placed her hands on her bikini top. “I guess I lost.” Without any sort of hesitancy she tugged at the bottom of her bikini top, her tits bouncing in their confines before she finally brought it over her mounds and released them. You were stunned, unable to look away from her perfect breasts as they bounced in front of you, a slick and glistening mess from all her sweat. Your cock was harder than ever. “A deal is a deal.” She said, twirling the bikini top around her finger. “Are you proud of looking at your mommy’s tits? Hmm?” 

You couldn’t speak or do anything—the sight before you completely envelops you. Eunbi chuckles and bounces, so her tits shake and jiggle for you. “Well? What do you think? Want to touch them?” Eunbi said, pressing the issue. She crawls toward you and takes your hand, bringing it close to her chest. “Do you?” She pauses, her thumb running across your palm. “Do you want to touch mommy’s tits? Because there’s something I want too.” Eunbi places her hand on your crotch, moving her hand along your clothed bulge. You gulp, never expecting to be in this situation. You don’t even notice your hand moving forward, until you feel her soft tits rubing against your palm. Eunbi bites her lip, containing her moan before smiling. She reaches into your shorts, her bare hand wrapping around your shaft. 

“E-eunbi,” you groan. 

“Shh, Honey, I need you.” Eunbi leans in, pressing her lips against yours. “I know it’s wrong, but it's been so long and seeing you so hard…” You will weaken, and you return the kiss, your hand squeezing Eunbi’s breast as she pushes you onto your back. Your hand slide down her sides, sliding underneath her bikini bottom as you grab her ass, fingers digging into her soft flesh. Eunbi moans into the kiss, allowing your tongue to explore her mouth. 

Nothing can stop either of you. Eunbi wanted you with her entire being. Her hand moved along your shaft quickly. She pulls your shorts down with her other hand, springing your cock free. She glances down, eyes widening for a second as she sees your size. The shock is replaced by satisfaction; you are bigger than your father, just as she had thought. Her hand squeezeds your cock, making your grunt and drawing a bit of precum out of you. 

You release your grip on Eunbi’s cheeks and move out, grabbing the sides of her bikini bottom and pulling them down. Eunbi kicks them off on you get them to her knees and sits on your pelvis, your cock rubbing against her slick folds. “I can’t wait any longer, Honey,” Eunbi moans. She rises and aligns herself with your cock sinking onto it in an instant. It’s a shock to your system just as it is for Eunbi’s. You both throw your heads back, whether it was finally getting the release you both wanted, the taboo of fucking your family, or something else you both came at that moment. Eunbi’s body tingled as she felt your cum shoot inside her. She had forgotten what it felt like, and she wanted more. 

Eunbi grinded against you at first, rocking back and forth causing your cock to rub against her walls but her body wanted more. She placed her hands on your chest and squatted over your, slowly rising before slamming herself back down onto your cock. “Keep going, Eunbi,” you groan, holding onto her waist and guiding her along your shaft as you thrust into her. You watch her tits bounce as she gets into a rhythm, sweat running down her body. You lean up, sticking your tongue out and running it between her heavy tits, lapping up her salty sweat before moving over to one of her nipples.

“Oh, wait baby,” Eunbi moans as she feels your mouth surround her sensitive nipple, your tongue swirling around the hard nub as you suck on her tit. Eunbi cries out from the pleasure, her moans getting louder as you switch to the other breast. 

She continues to ride you, her body growing weaker as you both move closer to another orgasm. “Eunbi,” you grunt. That was enough to tell her you were getting close, even if you hadn’s said a word she would’ve figured it out sooner or later, your cock was throbbing inside her again. Eunbi had to give up her squat position and ride you normally, giving you the position to grab her waist and thrust into her for the final few moments before you both were taken to heaven, rocked by intense orgasms. Eunbi collapses on top of you, breathing heavily. You tilt her head and kiss her. Your sweaty bodies felt like they were melding together. 

“That was amazing,” she says breathlessly.

“I can keep going, at least once more.” Eunbi nods and gets ready to ride again. “No, I want you from behind.” You lift the young woman, moving her beside you. Eunbi lies flat on the floor, her strength gone from the previous two orgasms. Just as well you had always imagined fucking Eunbi into the ground. You run your hands along her body, stopping at her ass and giving each cheek a squeeze. “You have no idea how much I’ve thought of this, Eunbi,” you whisper into her before aligning with her cunt. You push yourself back into the welcoming hole, stretching out your stepmothers pussy, pushing your cum out of her as you go deeper. 

“Deeper, baby. Make me cum again.” Eunbi feels your body weight against her as you push deeper. Her eyes twitch in their half-lidded state. Fully buried inside your stepmom you pull out and slam yourself back in, your pelvis pressing against her soft ass. The experience was better than you had imagined. You lost yourself nearly instantly, beginning to thrust into Eunbi like a wild beast.  “Fuck! Fuck me! Fuck your dirty mommy!” Eunbi screamed. You snaked your hands under her waist, lifting her ass up and giving yourself a better angle. You slam into her ass with every thrust, both of your minds melting into nothing as claim Eunbi. You hold Eunbi up with one hand, using the other to her clit, pressing it and making her get closer to cumming. Eunbi roars as the pleasure floods her body, she backs her ass into you, wanting you deeper as your cum spills out of her onto the floor. “Oh fuck!”

Eunbi curls her toes as she’s rocked by another orgasm, her entire body shakes before collapsing onto the floor with you on top of her, your cock buried inside her tight cunt, filling her with another load of your semen. You rest on top of Eunbi for a moment before rolling off of her. Your cum pours out of her staining the hardwood. Neither of you cares, though; the experience was like nothing else. Your bodies desire more, and if it weren’t for the exhaustion, the two of you would’ve continued to go at it like rabbits. 

You don’t know how much time passes before your strength returns and you're finally able to get up. Eunbi was in the same position. As you both get to your feet, you look at each other, wanting nothing more than to have sex again. Your body is tingling with excitement. Eunbi reaches out and grabs your cock, her hands rubbing the creamy mess. “I want you to ruin me every day. We can’t tell your father about this, but just know that I am all yours.” You tilt her head back and kiss her. Eunbi raises her leg to your side, and pushes your cock back inside her warm cunt. 

You spend every moment you can with Eunbi from morning to night, the two of you revel in each other’s bodies, having sex all over the house, marking each space as somewhere you’ve done it. Even when your father comes back, you find a way to sneak in a few rounds, but the time apart fuels your need for each other, and the moment he leaves for another trip, you claim his wife.

[uncuredturkeybacon]

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚝 || 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

in which you and paige made a promise to each other

There’s something about summer air in Minnesota that makes everything feel bigger than it is. The stars. The spaces between conversations. The ache in your chest when you look at someone a second too long and they don’t notice. Or maybe they do, and they don’t say anything.

You’re lying on your back on a trampoline in someone's backyard. Paige Bueckers is beside you, a little too close for comfort, a little too far to do anything about it.

The night smells like fresh cut grass and burnt marshmallows. The air’s sticky with warmth, the kind that doesn’t ask for a hoodie. There’s a party still going on inside the house, faint music filtering through the screen door—Drake, probably, or SZA. But out here, it’s just you and Paige, staring up at a sky that’s trying its best to impress you.

Paige sighs dramatically, the kind of breath that says “I’m about to say something stupid” before it even happens.

“So,” she says, breaking the silence, “what if we just... suck at dating forever?”

You turn your head toward her slowly, narrowing your eyes. “Are we starting the night with existential dread already?”

She laughs. “No, I’m serious. What if we just never find someone? What if this is it?”

You raise a brow. “You mean this as in... us lying on a trampoline hiding from people drinking warm White Claws?”

“Yeah.” She’s smirking now. “Like, this is peak romance and we didn’t even know it.”

You roll your eyes. “Speak for yourself. I’m still waiting for my movie moment.”

Paige grins, eyes catching the glint of the string lights that line the fence. “Okay, fine. But what if thirty rolls around, and you’re still single, and I’m still single—what then?”

“Then we cry about it on FaceTime and watch The Notebook in separate time zones?”

“No,” she says, voice dipping lower, almost hesitant now. “Then we marry each other.”

You blink.

She keeps her eyes on the stars like she didn’t just drop a loaded sentence between you. Like this is just a casual idea.

You shift, propping yourself up on your elbow so you can see her better. “Wait. Are you saying we make a pact?”

She nods without looking at you. “Yeah. A real one. If we’re both single at thirty, we just... do it. Tie the knot. Easy.”

You scoff. “Easy?”

“Easiest decision ever,” she says, finally turning to face you. “I already know your weird habits. You already know I leave two sips of everything because I have commitment issues.”

“You do.”

“You eat the same three things for lunch and have a playlist for literally every emotion.”

You smile despite yourself. “And?”

“And I like you better than I’ve ever liked anyone I’ve dated,” she says, softer now. “Not like, like like. Just... you’re my favorite person.”

Your heart beats louder than it should.

You mask it with sarcasm. “Aw, Bueckers. Is this your way of asking me to prom?”

“Prom’s next week,” she says with a smirk. “It’s too late. But thirty’s wide open.”

You laugh, pushing her shoulder gently. She exaggerates the motion like you tackled her. You’re both giggling now, bodies still bouncing slightly with the motion of the trampoline.

Then she quiets again. Voice small. Real.

“I’m serious, though. You and me. If it doesn’t happen with anyone else… why not?”

You stare at her.

She’s seventeen and golden and brilliant and so much more sure of herself than she should be. But there’s something in the way she says it. Not flippant. Not a joke.

Hopeful.

You take a breath. Hold out your pinky.

“Alright. If we’re both single at thirty…”

She links her pinky with yours instantly.

“We get married,” she finishes.

You nod. “Deal.”

And then, because you can’t help yourself, you whisper, “You’ll probably forget.”

She looks at you like you just insulted her entire bloodline. “I won’t.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I won’t,” she insists.

“You’ll be off winning WNBA championships and crossing people over or whatever.”

She grins, cocky. “Okay, true. But I’ll still remember.”

You shrug, like you’re not secretly hoping she means it.

“Alright then. It’s a deal,” you repeat, letting your pinkies fall apart, but not the moment.

She stares at you a second longer than necessary.

Then she rolls onto her back again, hands behind her head, eyes on the stars like nothing just shifted between you.

But it did.

You feel it.

You don't realize until much later that this was the night Paige decided what forever looked like.

And it was you.

Years have a funny way of moving fast when you're not looking. One minute you're seventeen on a trampoline. The next, you're twenty-one at a graduation party with someone else's lipstick on your cheek and your phone buzzing in your back pocket.

It’s a picture from Paige — her in cap and gown, beaming, with “UConn Legend” written in white marker across her mortarboard.

Paige: Made it. No torn ACL could stop me. Just the terrifying future ahead. Also I miss your dumb face.

You grin. Your heart squeezes a little, like it always does when she says something unexpectedly sweet.

You: Your dumb face graduated? Unbelievable. When’s the parade? I’ll bring confetti and judgment.

Paige: Confetti welcome. Judgment expected. You still owe me a post-college road trip btw.

You: You still remember that?

Paige: I remember everything.

You let that one sit too long before you respond. You always do.

You’re in Chicago by now. Paige is in Dallas, bouncing between WNBA training camp and events she’s been invited to. You FaceTime late at night — her hair in a messy bun, hoodie drawn up to her chin, bags under her eyes from practice.

“Tell me something good,” she says.

You’re curled on your couch, legs tucked under a blanket, nursing your third glass of boxed wine. “I got ghosted by a woman who said I was ‘too emotionally literate.’ So, that’s something.”

Paige groans. “God, that’s actually a compliment.”

“You’d think. Apparently knowing my attachment style is a red flag.”

She smiles. “Well, for the record, I like that you’re emotionally literate.”

You glance at her through the screen. “What about you? Any secret girlfriends I should hate on sight?”

She hesitates for just a second too long. Then shrugs.

“Nothing that stuck,” she says. “People get weird about the schedule. The travel. The fame thing.”

You nod. “Yeah. That makes sense.” There’s a pause. “Sometimes I feel like everyone I date wants a version of me that doesn’t really exist.”

She hums. “I don’t want a version of you.”

You look up.

She’s watching you through the screen.

“I just want you.”

Your breath hitches.

She catches herself. Backpedals fast. “As a friend! Like—obviously. Duh. I mean. Yeah.”

You laugh, covering your heart with sarcasm. “Smooth.”

She blushes. “Shut up.”

But later, as the call ends and you set your phone down, the echo of her voice lingers like something you should’ve held tighter.

You visit her. Not for any special reason — you just needed to get out of the city, and she said “Come over.” That was enough.

It’s late. You’re two drinks in on her couch, legs tangled under a shared blanket, watching reruns of The Office for the thousandth time. She throws popcorn at you every time you quote a line wrong.

“I swear, your memory’s gotten worse,” she says, chucking another kernel.

You catch it in your mouth. “And yours is terrifyingly accurate.”

She shifts, pulling the blanket tighter around both of you. “I remember everything. Seriously.”

You turn to her. “Everything?”

She nods.

There’s a lull.

And then she says, without looking at you, “I still remember the trampoline.”

You freeze.

“…What?”

She keeps her eyes on the screen. “That night. The pact. I meant it.”

Your throat goes dry. “Paige…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” she rushes. “I just — I think about it sometimes. How easy it felt, you know? Being with you. Like maybe we already had something people spend years looking for.”

You don’t know what to say.

She finally glances at you. “You ever think about it?”

Your voice is barely a whisper. “Sometimes.”

It hangs in the space between you.

You don’t kiss her. You don’t move closer. You both just sit there, holding the maybe of it.

And then the episode ends. The next one starts. Neither of you speaks again.

But she remembers that night too.

Your birthday. You’re in a new apartment in a new city. A new job. A new almost-girlfriend who doesn’t quite understand why your smile falters when Paige’s name pops up on your phone.

12:01 a.m.

Time’s almost up.

That’s all it says.

You stare at it.

Your almost-girlfriend is asleep beside you, breathing softly.

You don’t reply right away.

You lock your phone and turn toward the wall.

But your heart? Your heart answers back immediately.

You forget. You really do. With everything else going on ��� deadlines, bills, the mess of a half-put-together life — the pact feels like a dream from a different version of yourself.

You assume she forgot too.

It’s late.

Most of your birthday texts have come and gone. A few phone calls. One coworker sent a meme of a gravestone with “RIP your twenties” etched into it. You laughed politely. You don’t feel old, exactly. Just… removed. Like the years built a soft blur around who you used to be, and you're not sure which version of you today is the most true.

You spent the day with a few friends. Drinks. Takeout. Laughter that didn’t always reach your chest. Now, the apartment is quiet. Everyone’s gone. You’re in sweatpants, hoodie half-zipped, makeup long wiped away. You don’t feel particularly 30. You just feel… still.

The knock on the door is unexpected.

You glance at the time. 9:07 p.m.

Cautious, curious, you open it.

There she is.

Paige Bueckers.

In a jean jacket over a hoodie, hair pulled into a loose braid, cheeks a little pink from the cold. One hand holds a bouquet of tulips—white, your favorite. The other hand holds something small. Square. Velvet.

Your stomach drops.

“Hi,” she says.

You blink. “Are you—did I forget we were—?”

“No,” she says. “But I didn’t.”

You stare.

She shifts her weight like she might flee if you blink too hard. “I know this is a little insane. I know. I just… I didn’t want to let today pass.”

You glance at the ring box.

“Paige.”

“It’s not pressure,” she blurts. “It’s not—I’m not trying to, like, ambush you. I just remembered what we said. That night. On the trampoline. And I guess I’ve just… remembered it ever since.”

You step aside, nodding slowly. “Come in.”

She does. The air around her carries something familiar, a little wind, a little warmth, a lot of nerves.

You close the door. “You remembered.”

“Every year,” she says softly. “Every birthday. Yours, mine. I never forgot.”

You lean against the back of your couch. Your legs feel like they might give.

“And now that we’re here?” you ask.

She breathes out. Sets the tulips down on your kitchen counter. Still holds the ring box. Doesn’t open it.

“I didn’t know if I’d actually come,” she admits. “I’ve had it in my drawer for three months.”

“The ring?”

She nods. “I got it engraved. Dumb maybe, but…”

She flicks it open and shows you.

Since 17.

It knocks something loose in your chest.

“Paige…”

“You don’t have to say yes,” she says, voice quick now, scared of the silence. “I don’t even know what this is. Maybe you don’t feel the same. Maybe it’s just me still stuck in a night we barely remember the same way. But I couldn’t not come. I couldn’t—if there was even a chance, I had to try.”

You walk over slowly.

Her eyes track you like you might disappear.

You reach for the ring box, closing it gently with your fingers still over hers.

“I didn’t forget the pact,” you say.

She looks up, startled.

You laugh under your breath. “I didn’t let myself think about it. That’s different. I buried it under jobs and people and cities and time. But I remembered.”

Her voice wavers. “Then why didn’t you ever bring it up?”

“Because I didn’t think you meant it.”

She steps back like you hit her.

“I always meant it,” she says, almost breathless. “God. You think I kept texting you on every birthday because I was joking? You think I came to your city every chance I could just to hang out casually? You think I called you during every off-season just because I was bored?”

Your eyes sting.

“I thought I was the backup plan,” you whisper.

“No,” she says firmly, taking a step closer. “You were the plan. You were always the plan.”

You let the silence bloom.

There’s no music. No outside noise. Just your apartment and the hum of everything that never got said until now.

Finally, you speak.

“I’m not ready to say yes.”

She flinches. “Okay.”

“But I’m not saying no either.”

Her eyes dart to yours.

You take the ring box from her hands. “I want to say… give me tonight.”

“Just tonight?”

You smile softly. “Let me remember how it feels. Being around you. You. Not the past, not the pact. Just... this.”

She nods.

And then—almost like muscle memory—she moves to the kitchen to grab two glasses.

“You still drink that dumb hibiscus tea?”

You laugh. “Only when I want to feel mysterious.”

She pours the water. Boils it. Sits beside you on the couch like she never left.

And for the first time in years, nothing feels far away.

It’s barely morning when you wake.

Sunlight filters in through your kitchen window in faint, forgiving strokes. You’re curled up on the couch with a blanket around your shoulders and the faintest ache in your neck — a leftover from staying still too long in a moment that didn’t feel real.

Paige is sitting at the kitchen table.

She’s in the same hoodie from last night, her legs pulled up into the chair like she always did in college when she was trying to disappear. A mug of tea cradled in both hands, steam rising slowly into the soft quiet.

You watch her for a minute.

She doesn’t know you’re awake yet.

Her eyes are on the small velvet ring box sitting on the table.

Still closed. Still waiting.

Like her.

You shift, and the couch creaks slightly. She turns.

“Oh,” she says, voice low, careful. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t,” you reply, stretching slowly. “Been up long?”

“Not really.” She hesitates. “Didn’t sleep much.”

You sit up, blanket still wrapped around your shoulders like armor. “Too many thoughts?”

She smiles gently. “Something like that.”

You nod, rubbing your hands over your face. “Want breakfast?”

She shakes her head. “I can get something on the way out.”

You look at her. “You’re leaving?”

“Well…” She looks down at the ring box again. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted.”

“I didn’t say no,” you remind her.

She nods. “I know. But you didn’t say yes either.”

You get up, feet padding softly on the wood floor, and walk to the table. You don’t sit yet. You just stand behind the empty chair across from her and look down at the ring box too.

It looks so small from up here. Insignificant almost. But you know better. There’s a lifetime tucked into that hinge.

“I wasn’t ready to say anything last night,” you say softly.

“I know,” she replies.

“I didn’t know how I felt. Still don’t, exactly. But…” You pause. “You stayed.”

She meets your eyes. “Of course I did.”

“And you didn’t ask for anything.”

“I didn’t come to ask,” she says. “I came to remind.”

You sit down slowly. Your fingers hover over the velvet box but don’t touch it. “Remind me of what?”

She swallows. “Of what we were. Of what we still might be. Of what I’ve been holding onto every time I said your name out loud like it meant more than just ‘friend.’”

You’re quiet for a long time.

She doesn’t fill the silence. That’s always been one of her best qualities—Paige knows how to wait without making it feel like pressure.

You glance at the box.

“You really bought this three months ago?”

She nods. “Didn’t know if I’d use it. But I couldn’t not have it.”

You press your palm flat on the table. Not touching her, not yet. Just there.

“It wasn’t a joke,” she says. “It never was. Even at seventeen. I meant it. Every birthday, every text. Every time I saw you with someone else and thought, ‘God, she deserves better.’ Every year we didn’t talk for a while and I still saved your number just in case.”

You lift your eyes slowly.

“Say it again,” you whisper.

She breathes in. Steady. Strong. “You were always the plan.”

Your throat tightens.

You nod once. Just once. Then you open the box.

The ring catches the light in the most unassuming way — not flashy, not grand. Just simple. Solid. Familiar.

You slide it out, turn it in your fingers, read the engraving again.

Since 17.

You set it gently down beside your tea. And finally, finally, you reach across the table and take her hand.

“I want to figure this out,” you say. “Not out of obligation. Not because of some promise made under the stars and trampoline nets. I want this because you showed up.”

Her eyes shine, lips parting in the tiniest smile.

“And because,” you add, “you’re the only one who ever waited without asking me to hurry.”

She exhales, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “So what now?”

You squeeze her hand. “Now we don’t rush.”

She smiles, wide and quiet and a little shaky. “So… I keep the ring?”

“For now,” you grin. “Don’t get cocky, Bueckers.”

She lets out a breathless laugh. “God, I missed that.”

You lean in. Just a little. “Then stay.”

“I will,” she whispers, squeezing your hand like it’s the only thing holding her together.

And maybe it is.

The house is loud.

Your daughter is singing the Bluey theme song at full volume from somewhere in the hallway. Your son is crying because the waffle you gave him broke in half. And the dog — all seventy pounds of golden retriever joy — is sprinting back and forth with a half-eaten stuffed duck in his mouth like it’s his job to personally raise the decibel level.

You’re barefoot in the kitchen, cradling a lukewarm mug of coffee in both hands like it might save your life.

There’s crayon on the fridge.

Your daughter added a rainbow to the corner of the calendar and signed her name in uneven block letters.

It’s a mess.

It’s perfect.

And in the middle of it all is Paige.

She’s wearing an oversized T-shirt that used to be yours and a pair of shorts that are barely hanging on. Her hair is pulled into a half-bun, and she’s got a pink hair tie looped around her wrist because Jayda insists they match every morning.

She’s kneeling on the floor with your son in her lap, holding him and whispering something that makes him hiccup through his tears. Slowly. Gently. The same way she used to talk you down from a spiral when the world felt too big.

“Hey,” you say from the doorway.

She looks up. Smiles.

It still hits you. Every single time.

“Crisis averted,” she says, rubbing your son’s back. “The Waffle Tragedy will not go down in history.”

“Are you sure? I think he’s already drafting a memoir.”

Your son sniffles.

Paige whispers, “Tell Mama you’re okay now.”

He nods into her shoulder.

You walk over and crouch beside them, brushing his curls back gently. “Good job, little man.”

He reaches for you with chubby arms and mumbles, “Wuv you.”

“I love you too.”

Paige stands up slowly and stretches, arms high, groaning like she’s eighty. “I need like... six more hours of sleep and a coffee the size of my head.”

You hand her your mug. “You can have mine. I only drank half.”

She takes it and sips. “Lukewarm. Just how I like it.”

You grin. “Liar.”

She leans in and kisses you. It’s quick. Familiar. Soft. The kind of kiss that comes with a hundred other ones before it.

From the hallway, your daughter yells, “MAMA! MOMMY! THE DOG STOLE MY HEADBAND AGAIN!”

You both groan.

Paige mumbles against your mouth, “Your child.”

You pull back with a raised brow. “She’s literally your clone.”

“Emotionally. But the drama? That’s all you.”

You chuckle, standing with her now, arms brushing as you head toward the hallway chaos together. But then you pause.

She notices and turns.

You’re watching her.

The kitchen. The kids. The crayon art. The ring still on her finger, older now, a little scratched, a little worn, but still there.

“I was just thinking,” you say.

“Uh-oh,” she teases. “That’s dangerous.”

You smile. “You really did mean it.”

She tilts her head. “The pact?”

You nod. “All of it.”

Paige steps closer and takes your hand. The same way she did on your 30th birthday. Like no time has passed at all.

“I still do,” she says.

Your son tugs on your pant leg.

Your daughter runs in with the dog trailing behind her, headband around his neck like a crown.

And you?

You laugh.

You press your forehead to Paige’s and say, “God, I’m so glad you showed up that night.”

She smiles.

And you both turn, hand in hand, back into the storm you built together.

Because this?

This is forever.

And she always meant it.

[mercifulstate]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ IT'S SO SIMPLE, IT MIGHT SEEM COMPLICATED.

That title? Relatable. Over the years, I’ve seen so many guys, gals, gays, and theys overcomplicate something that is literally so simple at its core. And honestly? Same. I get it. I used to be stuck in that mindset too—thinking I had to jump through hoops, follow a formula, or limit myself because what I truly wanted felt impossible to manifest.

But let me tell you right now: That. Is. BULLSHIT.

Limiting yourself? Nope. Not anymore. You can manifest literally anything you want. And how? Girl you don’t even need to stress about the “how.”

Just assume. Persist. BE. That’s it. That’s the tea. That’s the secret.

Wanna use methods? Go off, girlie! Use whatever feels good to you. But always remember: you’re the one in charge. Not the method. Not the trend. Not the step-by-step thread you saw at 2AM.

YOU are the power. YOU assume. YOU decide. YOU make it real.

None of these methods would even exist without people like you, me, and the community. Everything starts with YOU.

Now go. Be unstoppable. Be that bitch that you already are.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ AN ANNOUNCEMENT

HEY HEYYYYYY GALS, GAYS, AND GUYS <3 Gather ‘round for a quick life update from your girlie

So I know I haven’t been super active lately (okay, not ghosting but definitely quieter than usual), and I wanted to give y’all a little heads up: I’m going on an indefinite semi-hiatus. I’ve been feeling a bit burnt out, and honestly? I’m running out of fresh things to post. LOA is super simple at its core, and repeating the same concepts over and over when the info is literally everywhere—especially on Tumblr—feels a bit.. meh. I don’t wanna post just to post.

Alsooo… I’ll be keeping my asks off. I get overwhelmed easily when my inbox piles up, and I’d rather step back than burn myself out further. Hope you all understand!

Now for my classic TL;DR because I love y’all and want to keep it simple:

LOA = Assume. Persist (in the knowing). Be. That’s it.

Having doubts? Doesn’t matter unless you assume it does.

Intrusive thoughts? Doesn’t matter unless you assume it does.

Spiraling? STILL doesn’t matter unless you assume it does.

That’s why it’s called the Law of ASSUMPTION. Not the Law of Perfection, not the Law of Never-Think-A-Scary-Thought. It’s that simple.

I’ll be focusing on myself for a while—recharging, resting, romanticizing life again. Love you all so so much <3 Keep glowing, keep manifesting, and don’t forget that you’re the key.

[letiel]

I have a certification as a dog trainer and as a cat trainer and people are regularly surprised when I tell them that cats are smarter than dogs. I argued with my literal rocket scientist grandfather about it.

Even in dog training there is a difference between intelligence and trainability. Most people assume they're the same thing, that its intelligence that makes an animal trainable but that's not true. Cats problem solve, observe, learn, and have the intelligence to understand, "this person is trying to train me and I don't feel like it today." And in many cases are smart enough to train the trainer back. You see this a lot in cats trying to push up their feeding times by slowly convincing their person that a minute early is okay, two minutes early, three, five, etc. until you realize what you're doing. I had a cat who figured out how to make ME fetch the toy (long story, I still can't believe I fell for it).

Cats very smart, love cats

Cats getting caught doing crimes

[itzpookiepooh]

I didnt know you did requestss, I love your writing so much! if it's not too much trouble, I'd love to see you write the guys' reaction to an mc who's just comically clueless? doesn't catch hints, and flirting goes over the head. even when they've already stablished a relationship, they still doesn't see it coming when the guys want a kiss or more and it always makes mc freeze for a sec like "ooh" and it's just funny. the lis have to very direct, its like mc is on loading screen 99% of the time lmao sorry if its complicated or too specific

Oh, Me!

Thank you so much! I got you don’t worry!

Caleb loves you he swears he does but you were just so clueless. Any advance he try you would not understand at all. He tried to kiss you you’d coincidentally move out of the way. If he tried to flirt you would laugh it off as if he was cracking a joke. Today he was planning on asking you out and everything had to be perfect…for his sake.

He set out a perfect dinner and wondered how to come about everything. You were ready to eat, you had been hungry all day especially since Caleb insisted that you don’t fill up on anything. You tapped your finger on the table waiting for the food to get here. Caleb was nervous practically sweating bullets.

“Hey pipsqueak…” He trails off placing a hand on the table. You turn to him fluttering your lashes with big clueless eyes.

“What’s up?” You ask, he gulps before answering, “I like you. I mean really like you.” His voice shaky with nerves.

“Well I’d hope so we grew up together.” You laugh and tap his hand playfully. He sighs, there you go again.

“No like I really like you like I want to be with you.” He explains both elbows now on the table as he does so. You blink at him still not getting it. Are you not together right now?

A dramatic sigh leaves Caleb as he leans back dramatically in his seat. He throws himself forward and grabs your hands.

“I want you to be my girlfriend.” He says bluntly. You chuckle before answering, “Oh I get it. You’re practicing!” She taps the said of her head and makes a duh motion with her mouth.

Caleb wanted to pull his hair out. You were so…special. So clueless and yet so smart at the same time. He could only blame himself for this because he asked you last week but the way he asked made it seem like he was practicing on you. He grabbed your cheeks making you look at him.

“I like you, love you. I want you to be my girlfriend. I’m real life right now.” He emphasizes making your eyes go wide as if you just figured out a worldwide mystery.

“Oh! Yes of course.” You answered making him sigh in relief. Finally!

Zayne is use to you being mildly confused. It was what ultimately drew him to you other than your caring nature. Him telling you he wanted to be with you was one thing but now he had to go through the process again. He sighed at the thought but it was worth it in the end.

So on a walk, hand in hand, he took a deep breath. This was it. You were enjoying the scenery around you as the quiet evening sky fell over you. The sunset painting the sky beautifully. He admired you as he holds your hand tighter.

“I want to tell you something.” His usual low tone flows through your ears. You look up at him with hopeful eyes.

“I want to take a step toward our future.” He tells you as you glance at him occasionally.

“Like getting a dog! I’ve always wanted a dog!” You excitedly bounce holding his hand to your chest. He blinks before shaking his head at how you threw him off.

“No I want us to be closer.” He tells you as you continue to walk. You think to yourself before snapping.

“Like getting a smaller bed!” You chuckle as if you were the brightest crayon in the box. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I want us to move in together.” He tells you bluntly. You squeal in excitement, “Like roommates!”

“Why would we be roommates?” He pauses to question you. Why wouldn’t you be roommates? That’s literally what two people moving in are like!

“Because we live together….” You both just stare at each other.

“I’m your boyfriend.” He states the obvious. You nod firmly. “Exactly like roommates version.” You agree.

“Oh my gosh.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs.

Rafayel was on the verge of pulling his hair out. He had been flirting with you all day and you were just not catching on. If he could pull his eyeballs out he would. He called you cute and you said thank you and complimented him back. Fine, whatever. He wrapped his arm around you during the movie and you scooted over thinking you were in his way. He kissed the icing off your face and you told him he could’ve just used a napkin so he wouldn’t get dirty. He couldn’t win.

“How clueless are you?” He asks you on the cusp of irritation. You tilt your head confused on why he asked.

“I’m not.” You tell him. He huffs narrowing his eyes at you.

“I’ve been flirting with you all day and you haven’t noticed me ONCE!” He complains slamming his hands on the bed.

“Really? When?” You ask him as he names off every instance today. “That was you flirting?” He felt a pang in his chest.

“Are you playing with me or something?” He deadpans but you were so very serious.

“Nope sorry.” You tell him as he pouts. He gets up and kisses you putting you in a daze.

“I’ve wanted a kiss this whole time.” He pouts holding your cheeks.

You blink slowly at him before nodding, “Noted.”

Sylus is such a sweetheart. A patient, loving, sweetheart. You were so clueless to his advances and it was kind of funny to him he won’t lie. He flirts with you and you take it literally. It made him and the twins laugh so hard to the point of tears.

You walked by him as he was reading and he decided to test you. He knew how you’d react and that was the fun in it. You were going out for the afternoon and were fixing your jeans.

“Do you have any room in your jeans for me, sweetie?” He smirks at you putting down his book. You raise an eyebrow at him. Of course you didn’t these were already tight as is.

“No? Why would you want to wear these with me in them?” You replied genuinely confused what his problem was.

The twins were wheezing from the doorway. You were always like this. They didn’t know if you were joking at first but now they know you’re dead serious. You look at them with your hands on your hips, concerned. What was so funny?

“What?” You didn’t appreciate being laughed at. You wanted to get the joke.

“Sweetie I’m flirting.” Sylus tells you through his laughter. A lightbulb goes off as your mouth makes an ‘O’.

“Oh…sorry.” You sheepishly replied. Sylus didn’t mind he thought you were hilarious.

You and Xavier are the same amount of aloof and everyone knows it. Xavier was subtly trying to flirt and you were not getting it. He thought he was pretty smooth though even if you didn’t get it. You were dressed up nice already for your date. Xavier couldn’t take his eyes off of you, he wanted to ravish you.

“You look beautiful.” He complimented you making you get shy. You wave him off, “Thanks.” His eyes grow dark as he thought of what to say next.

“It would look even better on the bedroom floor.” He smirks at you making you freeze and stare at him.

“What?” You raise your eyebrow. He smiles softly at you as if he didn’t say anything.

“I said it would look even better on the bedroom floor.” He repeated making you stare at him blankly.

“I don’t get it. Why would I do that? That’s making a mess.” You tell him crossing your arms. He chuckles before walking up to you and whispering in your ear.

“Oh! Xavier don’t be nasty!” You smack his arm making him fall out laughing. You were flustered the rest of the night because he kept flirting with you.

This took a minute but aye I hope I got it right 😅

[caitlynsrighteye]

Hi! Can i request a caitlyn x reader? where reader is starting to get baby fever and is getting sensitive about it and doesnt want to let caitlyn know cause she dont know how cait would react if she says she wants a baby? ... Could be wholesome or smut. Or both honestly... Thanks. I literally read all the things you wrote already keep up the good work i really enjoyed them.

Baby fever with Caitlyn

G!P Caitlyn Kiramman x reader

Contains: SMUT, fluff, wlw, g!p, fem!reader, established relationship, vanilla, cowgirl, blowjob, soft baby fever and conceiving

wc: 3.2k

Masterlist

She already goes through so much. Plate is always full with duties and priorities. Sheriff of Piltover and head of the Kiramman name. Standards to live up to fully, whether it’s set by herself or by others. Leaving you early in the morning with a quick kiss to your forehead while you’re still asleep and coming home late after another long day at work.

And you. Giggling, smiling in awe as you stroll the Piltovian markets and pass by a children’s clothing store. Walking around inside to find the most adorable shoes in the shape of lions, bear onesies and tiny shirts with almost cringe-worthy quotes. You pinch the edge of one hanging on a rack with other shirts, taking a closer look at its size and how your hand covers its entire torso.

Your heart throbbed at the sight of all of these miniature clothes. Watching a couple push their toddler in a stroller, browsing toys while the small child happily holds the item they picked out. You would often be scrolling on your phone, randomly coming across pov videos, watching a baby in a onesie attempt in climbing up a seesaw to ride it.

The sound of their sweet wordless voices, the soft looking chub on their cheeks, and you could almost smell the baby breath through your screen.

The baby fever has haunted you, lingered deep in your thoughts. It even had you confused, you thought you’ve been ovulating since last month.

You sit on the couch in the living room of you and your wife’s shared home. Legs tucked up on the sofa while you lean on the arm rest, once again scrolling on your phone with an opened book left forgotten on your lap.

It was sometime in the evening, Caitlyn should be back soon. The fireplace crackling, and the flickering light glowing on your features while you dream of a life you could grow with whom you love.

You heard your front door open and heavy feet stepping inside your home. Caitlyn finds you, stupidly smiling at your phone while you continue to watch the same videos over and over again.

“What has you grinning like that, Darling?” She says. You turn your attention, finding a tired, but sly smirk tilted on her lips as she makes you way to sit next to you. You fix your position and she sits down, hip to hip, throwing an arm around your shoulder, trying to peek at your phone.

You tilt it away slightly. “Just…” you weren't sure if this was a good time to tell her, but the thoughts have been eating you alive. You gently sighed, figuring out how to break the news.

“I've been thinking a lot,” that was a start. She had leaned forward over her lap to look you in the eye with her one and only. One not covered by a dark blue eyepatch. Your fingers fidgeted, tapping the backside of your phone as you tried swallowing the uncomfortable lump in your throat.

She took your cheek in her hand, turning your head slowly but surely to meet her gaze fully. “My love, you can tell me anything,” she said with such comfort in her tone. Though tired after a long day she's still there to reassure you when you're in need. Which just makes you more sure that you want to start something with her. To share a life with her and something beautiful you both create.

You inhale deeply, exhaling the breath before you say, “What would you think about trying for a baby?” You face winces just slightly, bracing for a negative reaction.

Caitlyn doesn't say anything at first, but with her hand still on your cheek her thumb rubs it gently. Her lips pressing together, curling upwards, smiling along with her eye that squints while staring into you deeply.

You both sat together in silence. The smell of wood burning, the warmth of the fire, its glow highlighting your soft expression. Her knee touching yours, hand caressing your cheek. She huffs to herself.

“Darling, that's what you were so nervous about telling me?” the hand on your cheek reaches for a strand of your hair, tucking it behind your ear.

Your hand closest to her reaches for her thigh to fiddle with the fabric of her pants. “I just thought… with you being so busy with work and everything else, I thought it would maybe be too much. I didn’t want to be selfish,” you look around the room. “And it gets quiet around here, maybe a child of our own can fill that void, you know?”

She takes a moment before leaning in. Her soft lips meet yours in a tender kiss, slow and full of love. Noses brushing together as your lips tangle.

She breaks the kiss, eye slowly opens with a sweet smile on her lips.

“Love, in what world would that be selfish? I would love to have a child with you,” her voice so soft it’s almost a whisper. You search for any signs of uncertainty, and when she expresses nothing but genuine assurance you jump from your spot on the sofa, launching yourself into her arms. She catches you, hugs you close with her arms holding your waist tightly while your arms are around her neck.

You giggle into her shoulder. Feet swinging in pure joy. You repeatedly say ‘thank yous’ and ‘I love yous’ in her neck, giving her skin soft pecks while she leans in your touch.

You sigh in relief. Kissing up her jaw before planting a kiss on her mouth. Your palms squishing her cheeks, holding her still and close, feeling her smile within your passionate kiss.

When your lips break off from hers, her hands meet yours on her cheeks, holding them gently in her grasp, thumbs rubbing with reassurance..

“This would make you happy, dear?” She asked, wanting to make sure you were perfectly fine with this new, important idea.

You nodded excessively, tightening your grip in her hands before bringing them to your face and kissing each knuckle.

“It would make me the happiest wife in Runeterra.”

-

You and Caitlyn had planned a night together. A night Caitlyn knew not to work late. The papers in front of her laid half finished. Pen twirling in her fingers as her eye watched the clock tick with each and every passing second. Counting the minutes before it's time for her to leave.

Right when that minute hand struck 12, signaling a new hour she was up on her feet, scrambling to gather her things while attempting to put on her coat mid walk.

She could feel her heart pounding through her chest. Sweat began to form on her brow in anticipation. Kicking off her boots and climbing her way up to your shared room. The smell of lit candles led her, like a bloodhound sniffing out a trail.

When she finally reaches the bedroom door. She stares, gulping down a nervous lump. Why was she so nervous? You both have been married for well over a year now, how could this be any different?

She grabs the door knob and turns it. Pushing the door open till she’s met with the sight of you, and oh what a view you were.

Sat at the end of your shared bed, one leg over the other, leaned back on your hands that have been fidgeting with the sheets for the past couple hours. The candle lights flickered and reflected off your glistening eyes that nervously met with hers. Deep and icy blue.

Your cheeks were flushed. Imagination alone was enough to get you flustered but with your wife standing in the doorway, her single eye skimming down your chest. Breasts bound inside your pushup bra and matching panties growing damp.

It had taken Caitlyn a second to process. Process how lucky she was for winning over a beautiful wife such as yourself.

“You're absolutely stunning, my love,” she says quietly. As if speaking too loud will scare away all the love and sexual desire you both were feeling.

She stays by the door, staring, admiring, or maybe a cover up of her wobbly knees that grew weak at the sight of you, worried she'll trip and fall and ruin the moment.

So you stood up, the bed slightly creaking as it shifted. You walked slowly, enough for her to burn an image in her head of your hips swaying throughout the short distance from the bed to the door. The eye contact was on and off. A nervous glance to the side every now and then, but when you were toe to toe, you reached for her hand, gave her a slight glance with rosey cheeks and a sly, knowing smile.

She let you guide her to the bed, hands interlocked while she tailed behind you, having an amazing view of your pretty ass covered in lace panties. Halfway towards the bed you turn back around, continuing to walk backwards while your attention is on her. You stop when you feel the back of your knees hit the mattress.

You let go of her hand to ride yours over her shoulders, pushing her coat off her arms and having it fall to the floor with a slight thud. She goes to undo the buttons of her shirt but you stop her.

“Allow me,” you say softly. She’s hesitant as fist, but puts her arms down and watches your hands move along her chest. Your fingers tremble against the material. After every few buttons undone you glance up, looking if she’s still staring at your hands. Her shirt opens revealing her bra and you help shimmy off the shirt. Once her shirt is on the floor along with her jacket you lean into her, kissing her soft lips.

Caitlyn holds on to you like instinct, like her hands were made to cling to your hips. You run your hands up her stomach, passing every curve of muscle to her underboob where you push up the mounds of fat. She moans in your mouth, sticking her tongue in after you’ve given her permission to do so. Your tongues swirl together inside your mouth, your arms wrapping around her neck to bring her in closer. Hers follow up the dip of your back to your braclip, separating the clip with expertise, letting your boobs free.

You gasp from the cold, lips still in contact. You pull her closer, switching your spots and making her sit at the edge of the bed. Your hands rest on her thigh for balance, kissing her deeply till her neck is arched back. One of her hands on the bed, keeping herself up while her other is on the side of your neck, fingers curling under your ear.

You pull your lips away, taking in the heated blush you’ve painted on her cheeks. You can hear her breath, chest rising and falling as she waits for your next move. You slide off your loose bra straps, removing the clothing and giving her a knowing nod before going back in to kiss down her neck. The further down you go she leans back onto her elbows. You place gentle pecks on her skin, sucking on her defined collarbones. One of your hands leaves her thigh to lower her bra, allowing her breasts to slip from its tight fabric.

You suck on one of her hard nipples and finger the other. You hear her exhale softly under her breath, feeling her intense gaze on you. Latching your lips around her bud, sucking unhurriedly as your fingers pinch. A gentle and harsh juxtaposition. You meet her stare, observing every little twitch whenever you peck over a sensitive spot. Back onto the path of open mouthed kisses along her fit body, making sure each ab gets the attention it deserves, before met with the waistband of her work pants. Now kneeling on the floor between her legs, the everyday bulge of her show-er print twitches just slightly when your hand passes over her zipper.

Glancing back up where she gives you a consensual nod. You’re skilled in this art of pleasure, but something about today makes your knees weak underneath you. You kiss her clothed groin before undoing her pants and grabbing both sides of the waistband, pulling it down along with her undergarment till it's off her ankles and thrown somewhere on the floor next to you.

Her member was half hard, a slight leak at her tip, but floppy on her thigh.

You can help with that.

You use your hand to help guide it into your mouth that’s wet from salivation. She throws her head back and hisses as you suck on her soft length. Her cock grows harder by the second with each bob of your head.

She whimpers under the touch of your mouth that becomes more compact and tight as she hardens, your throat getting shallower as her tip grazes the back. Once she’s hard enough for you to stroke your hand along it you pull your mouth off till it's only her tip between the warmth of your lips. You jerk her with your hand while sucking on her sensitive cockhead.

“Oh.. yes baby, fuck,” she lays back, head digging into the sheets and her hips gently buck when you bottom out on her cock. Gagging when she twitches, just that centimeter of movement felt as if she went deeper. You bob up and down her cock. Fully engulfing her flesh in your warm, wet mouth. Her hand found its way into your hair, brushing anything in your face and holding it up in a makeshift ponytail. Keeping it out of the way while using you as leverage.

Her chest heaves and arches. Ball sack ready to squeeze out what is stored, but you don't let her. You pull off of her, earning a struggling sigh from your wife. Cock standing tall, twitching on edge.

She lifts her head to look in your direction. “Darling–”

“Finish inside me, baby,” she watches you stand and climb onto the bed next to her, placing a hand on her cheek and turning her head for a kiss. She lays surprised, but gives in less than a moment later. Swinging an arm around your waist.

You both kiss while she rolls you over onto your back. She gets on top of you and you gasp when you feel her erection poke your inner thighs that spread wider for her. She grinds herself on your clit to your naval, her hands on boths sides of you while yours pull her face closer, kissing her deeper.

Your hands follow the fabric of her bra around her torso to unclip it. She pulls away from you for just a second to remove her bra before coming back in to trade spit. One of her hands slips to your panty waistband, tugging it from the back to pull it off your ass then down your legs while you kick the lace off and throwing it somewhere in the room.

She breaks the kiss for you both to look down at her erection, glistening with your spit and leaking pre on your pelvis. Your drenched hole twitches in anticipation, beginning to get impatient.

With just her hips, she aims her tip to your entrance. Her swollen head meeting between your folds before accidentally slipping back up to your clit from how soaked you were.

“Shit,” she says. You both giggle, feeling like it was your awkward first time with each other all over again.

She tries again, using her hand around her shaft this time. Letting go once her cockhead had dipped inside, then she let her hips take over, slowly thrusting. You take it inch by inch till her baby maker has met your slickness.

Your back arches, adjusting around her while she kisses your breasts. Your fingernails digging into her shoulders.

“Oh fuck…” she whispered in your cleavage, kissing up to your neck where she pecks it softly. “You feel so good,” the same phrase she's mentioned almost everyday of your marriage, but today with added intimacy of creation.

You moan, feeling yourself loosen and ready for her to start thrusting. You buck your hips and whisper a “Fuck me, baby,” in her ear, your breath sending chills down her spine. She pulls her cock out halfway, then rams back in. A low-tempo pace with harsh thrusts to make sure she hits as deep as she can each time.

Her lips leave your neck to watch you look breathless. Eyes half lidded, sweat building on your forehead and your sweet moans escaping your mouth. So beautiful. You're the woman she married and hopefully soon to become pregnant with her baby. She leans in and passionately kisses you. Wanting to feel every part of you while you conceive.

Her hips snap against yours. Her sack clapping on your skin as she does her best to kiss your cervix with her tip. Hard shaft penetrating your sopping hole, walls clenching and tightening. Holding onto her length like you never want her to exit.

Your wife groans deeply, completely addicted to the feeling of your insides wrapped around her girth. Her hips keep pace, trying to increase in speed yet tires.

You push up on her chest, flipping her over so you're now straddling her cock. Quickly bouncing your ass on her lap.

In shock she groans, “Ah~ fuck, darling.” Her hands find your hips, helping you bounce harder.

“We're making this baby together, aren't we?” You say. Lifting your hips up then back down. Your ass slapping on her thighs with each bounce. You tits following your motion, bouncing in circular rotations.

You lean over her till your chest meets with hers. You kiss her eyepatch before trailing pecks to her lips that are moaning whenever you squeeze around her.

“Oh fuck, Cait–” you moan. Her tip abusing your sweetest spots, tickling your kidneys when she feels so close to your soul. She wraps her arms around you, bringing her knees to a bend and thrusting up into your cunt. Your lips still latched, tongue finding hers in her mouth, swirling around as your insides tighten.

The bed creaks underneath you, her thrusts becoming relentless. You cuss gutturally into her mouth, squeezing her hard as you gush around her. Your body is shaking uncontrollably on top of her.

She makes a few more harsh thrusts before releasing into you, keeping her cock deep inside your heat. Both of you moan together as you stay interlinked. Body combined as one, hot with intimacy and love, and hope in conceiving.

You both fall onto your sides, still stuck together as you hold each other close, not wanting to part. Her hips buck slowly and gently, making sure no cum escapes and wastes.

Breathing hard, air feeling steamy. Overheated bodies relieved by the cool sheets of the bed. Her arms hold you tight, while you hand plays with her navy hair roots on the back of her head, massaging her scalp.

“I love you,” she says softly. Her face tucked in your neck, eye closed with exhaustion. “I love you so much.”

Your lips curl into a sweet closed mouth smile that she can feel when your cheek flexes on her forehead.

“I love you too, my love,” you both lay in silence, enjoying the comfort of each other. You don't know if it worked this time, but you will try over and over again till you finally have a part of your wife growing inside of you.

Note: AHHHHH!!! Thank you for the request and thank you for your patience. I've tried getting this done all week but i was so busyy!

Hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading everyone :))))

Have a good day/night♡♡♡

[kxsagi]

It's May 1 for me and I've been waiting for this day my entire life.

c-can I request reader who's hands and feet are cold all the time with shidou? IM REALLY SORRY BUT MY HANDS AND FEET ARE COLD ALL THE TIME AND IT BOTHERS MY MOM SO BADLY I WANNA FEEL BETTER ABT IT 😭🤚

“𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐠𝐟 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐢”

a/n: i feel you, i know friends who suffer from the same thing 😭🙏

you’re bundled up in two hoodies, fuzzy socks, and a fleece blanket, and somehow, somehow, your hands and feet are still ice cold. 

“don’t come near me with those corpse toes,” shidou warns from the couch, flicking his eyes over at you. “swear on my soul, i’ll scream.” 

you sniffle dramatically and curl up smaller, glaring at him like the betrayed gremlin you are. “why did i think you’d comfort me.” 

“’cause you’re stupid,” he grins, tossing a popcorn kernel at you. it hits your blanket and bounces off harmlessly. 

you sulk. “you’re so rude to me.” 

he shrugs, not denying it, but a few seconds later, he shifts. then again. then again, until you can practically feel him orbiting closer like a shark circling its frozen prey. and then – 

“don’t,” you whisper, already sensing what he’s about to do. 

he grabs your foot. 

“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH–” he screams, flailing back like he’s been electrocuted. “WHAT THE FREAK WHY DO YOU FEEL LIKE A COLD PACK?! IS THIS LEGAL???” 

you laugh so hard your blanket slips off. “i told you!” 

“no. no. this is a lawsuit waiting to happen.” he glares at you, like you’re the main reason winter exists. “you didn’t warn me properly. you said cold. that wasn’t cold. that was glacier titanic death level frostbite.” 

you wheeze into your sleeve, tears in your eyes from laughing. “what did you expect?! i’m literally dying over here.” 

but instead of staying mad, shidou throws his head back with a groan and stomps toward you like he’s doing something he’ll regret. 

“fine. come here, you cold-blooded lizard. give me your damn hands.” 

you blink. “really?” 

“don’t make me regret this.” 

you unwrap your hands from the sleeves and hold them out. and as soon as he touches them, he shudders so violently it looks like he got possessed. 

“geez. this is what you live like? how are you not dead yet?” 

“love and spite,” you say sweetly. 

he huffs, slapping your hands between his. “you’re lucky you’re hot. otherwise i’d throw you in the microwave.” 

“you’d microwave me?” 

“you need it,” he mutters, rubbing your fingers now with actual care. “look at this. i’ve seen corpses with more circulation.” 

you pout, but your cheeks flush with something warmer than embarrassment. it’s stupid. it’s so stupid. because he’s being mean, technically. but his thumbs keep brushing the back of your hand so gently, and he doesn’t stop even when your fingers start getting warmer, and – 

he glances up. “don’t look at me like that.” 

“like what?” 

“like you’re in love with me or some shit.” 

“… i mean, you’re kind of being sweet.” 

“gross. shut up.” 

you grin. he squeezes your hands harder. 

“don’t tell anyone i did this,” he grumbles. “i got a reputation to keep.” 

“what, as a menace with a hidden soft spot?” 

“no. as someone who doesn’t get frostbite from cuddling his girlfriend.” 

“we’re cuddling now?” 

“shut up,” he repeats, scooting next to you. then, under his breath, “your feet better not touch me.” 

you immediately press them to his leg. 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAA–” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[munv]

Cld i also request for diasomnia + ignihyde w raiden ei! like reader really love ur character! reader fics AKAJSJSHDH sorry if its too much </3

DIASOMNIA / IGNIHYDE X RAIDEN EI !READER

No because thank you SO much for requesting this. My inconsistency was coming back and I literally needed something that would make me work

MALLEUS

He notices you immediately. It's in the "thunder literally crackles around me too so I noticed yours from like 20 miles away" type of thing. Ancient fellow meets ancient fellow and it's one of those times where conversation isnt necessary. He realizes that you might also not be human after a while and he questions you about it.

He's a little scared that you might not take a liking to him anymore since he doesn't want to come off as brazen, yet he cant help but be curious.

Only to find out that you're a god of you're own country? He stares for a moment, slowly processing it and goes "is that so?". Not in the "I don't believe you and you're crazy way". It's in the "we now have a lot more in common" type of way.

He indulges in your oddly specific sweet tooth, bringing you little snacks and stuff to try together since you both have no idea what normal people eat.

LILIA

He laughs. In your face. First meeting.

Lilia is a good 700+ years old. So when he was face to face with someone who has been one for over 3000? He questioned for a moment if he would become that stoic (miserable) by the time he finishes 1000.

He pokes around your exterior, trying to see if he could possibly rile up a storm out of you. You dont strike him, so he takes that as a go ahead to keep it up. He teases you endlessly, noticing how you are exactly like malleus and way behind on trends and such. Although he isnt as shut in as the both of you, he is somewhat well versed in the latest things.

He doesn't find himself surprised when he gets you a phone and it ends up sparking up because you couldnt control your quiet excitement when you got it.

SILVER

He treats you gently, and he finds himself careful to not overstep any boundaries you have placed around yourself. Not because he finds himself scared, but because he genuinely respects you. He nods when you speak a few words, he opens doors for you, braids your hair under trees.

You're surprised when a bunch of animals follow him around, especially when he actually does a good job in braiding your hair. The flower additions into it? You love that too.

SEBEK

If you thought that silver was your no.1 admirer? you got another thing coming. Sebek basically explodes. Because at first? he sees you as a rival to Malleus, but over time? he grows to respect you if not, just as much. He begs you to train him and share your ever so "godly discipline". He constantly screams and yells about your noble aura and your gentle heart.

You've never met someone who could be so loud, yet loyal at the same time. Still, you give in and hand him a sword and just tell him "strike"

It's like that meme where its the avatar's saying "I can't help you bro, you jus gotta feel it". He never gives up though, and continues even if hes failing your training regimen, you've began to respect that about him, despite his outlandish tendencies to basically preach your praises on campus.

IDIA

He has a total meltdown. He hides, he panics, he screeches. "THATS A LEVEL10000 BOSS?? BRO WHY ARE THEY HERE?". Whenever he texts you, he realizes that you're one of those people who just give simple responses. "Yes." "No." "Thank you." “Why are you like this”

Idia thrives online but when he actually has to meet you face to face? he's a little nervous. Scratch a little— He basically screams bloody mary when you slightly lift your hand. Yet, he still enjoys your company. Despite him referencing you to his many different video game bosses and being chronically online with his odd slang? He finds comfort in your humble yet demanding ways.

"you're highkey scary but..lowkey chill?" You blink at him. "yes?"

He turns you inner realm into a video game setting.

ORTHO

Ortho finds himself doing extensive research on you. Your powers, your limitations, where you're from, If it's possible for you to overblot, all of the above.

He cheers and zooms around you in excitement whenever he sees you. Maybe he's just attracted to the lightning you emit, who knows. He likes hugging you and such.

If he wants more research? he goes to you, hands over some dango, and starts scanning you for 6 hours straight. Idia wonders how its possible for you to stay still for that long.

It comes with the meditation you do in your inner realm ever so often, you explain, and ortho is just scanning you casually without a care in the world.

He really likes the little zaps that you give him, he finds it ticklish, and he cute little giggles fuel you even more. “That tickled, again!” You blink, sigh, and zap him again, listening to him squeal in glee.

“Again!”

You smile at his childlike wonder

[jupiterpiss]

GIYS GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS IMAGINE IMAGINE IMAGINE WITH ME! Let’s hold hands in a circle please and let me say something real thoughtful about our Irish lad Remmick.

Btw.. I wrote this at 3:54 a.m.. and I had an exam the next day.. so, I promise there is a shit ton of mistakes in here just.. JUST DONT LOOK AT THEM OKAY GUYS

Slight gore and NSFW below the cut!!

Remmick with a werewolf reader. Her family.. a long long LONG heritage of wolves that date back to who fucking knows when, made a deal with the Choctaw in order to have peace between them. Because before they would hunt them, or more so both groups would hunt each other, and eventually they found that harmony would do much better than anything. Especially cause they hear whispers of something inhuman.. unnatural lurking its way in the shadows, that feasts on the blood of the innocent and burns under the brightness of the sun.

They both make a deal to never associate with vampires, and to instead protect the land from them and to protect each other. There was strength in numbers. And both groups are amazing at just keeping to them selves when need be, aside from helping against danger— both really don’t fuck around with evil shit. They’re good.

But Remmick doesn’t give TWO SHITS!! Bro doesn’t not give a FUCK and aside from the fact that he never messed around with werewolves before cause uh duh.. he comes across one, a young woman— freshly riped, beautiful. Has the stars of the night twinkled in her eyes, the soft winds in her words and the warmth of the sun in her laugh. She holds life he’s never seen before.. and he wants that pussy NOWHHHHHHH

So he literally won’t leave this poor girl alone, he comes every night to her doorstep, pleading to be let in. That doesn’t work, and so he thinks coaxing her with sweet words and a charming smile might.. nah. She doesn’t fuck around like that.

BUT!! She doesn’t close the door.. and once his freaky ass stops drooling at her doorstep and instead he just talks.. really talks and listens, is when he actually falls a bit deeper. At which that point on the man is in love. Plain and simple. Before he wanted to be burrowed in between her thighs.. and he still really wants that but he also thinks he might want to lay with her after. Trace her features, softly hum to her, maybe even idk cook dinner for her? Love on her?

It’s how she speaks of her experiences, her memories, her family— this fondness, this gentle nature she holds. As if she cradles each story with her hands, and places them gently into his lap. Something for him to hold as well. She radiants love, really. And when he speaks back his own stories, of Ireland, of his people, the memories slipped away in the crevices of his mind.. she listens. Just as he does.. she really listens. Gives her own questions, comments on little things, holds his own memories with the same care that she does hers. And something about it just.. RAHHH it changes the dude ya know.

But don’t let that little snippet of joy fool you.. he WILL be ravishing that POOOSAYYYY lemme say that cause dude.. when the full moon calls, and she starts to switch into something mean. Cruel, hairy and tall, pure rage and festering hunger— well he’s a bit scared lol. At first.. like he sees her bones break and her flesh tear as it makes way for fur.. and a snout.. and some claws with sharp teeth it almost puts his own to shame. It’s fucking terrifying. But it’s later on.. when the moon is no longer full, she’s far from home, her appetite for flesh is gone, and all is left is a naked frame of a woman with blood painted across her skin.. she shows up to where he says he lives. Some part down by the road, near North Carolina apparently. She’s real fucking far.

And real fucking naked and she can’t just walk home bloody AND naked so she just.. decides to go to his house. Cause.. well.. he’s all that will probably help right now.

But she shows, still smothered in sweat and blood of someone or something else that she can’t quite remember.

He pratically DROOLS at the sight of her, damn near falls to his knees begging her for some of that causeeee ur saying this fine assssssss woman, covered in blood that just mauled a shit ton of wildlife and maybe a small village of people somewhere.. is at HIS doorstep.. naked as the day she was birthed.. on top of the fact that she trusted him enough to GO THERE??

That man is really fucking annoying lemme just say that cause he gets her in there, nice and cozy, before he starts tracing his way up her legs, between the skin of her thighs.

He keeps sweet talking her.. all like “yer’ good now, baby. Safe here’ with me”

And gives her some old washed out robe of his, something from far before her time, which she sits in, still bloody.

He makes her a small snack of some sort, wild berries and random stuff outside, all edible. Puts them together clumsily, presents it before her on a small plate.

She tried apologizing for yesterday night. How horrific the sight must’ve been.. which is ironic given how he’s literally a vampire but wtv.. and he’s just like “Girl, you could’ve torn the flesh straight off my bones— still would’ve allowed you in.” Which is like… okay?? Weird? Why would u do that.. but there’s a part of her that grows almost dizzy with that knowledge, that even if she were to tear him tf up.. he would still be happy as a fucking peach.

It’s not too long before he’s eating her out like come on guys.. let’s be honest. It wouldn’t take much.

He’s going to town, straight crazy style. He’s fucking that shit UPPPP okay? He’s spitting on her clit, licking his name into her, lightly nipping at the skin of her thighs.

She’s no better, she’s moaning and huffing, pushing at his shoulders as an attempt to get him to just back the fuck off cause hello?? She already came four fucking times she thinks she’s good but he literally won’t stop. And she’s sobbing on the table he placed her on, spread out like a god damn meal, open and bare and still bloody cause lord knows he wouldn’t want her to wipe it off.

And it’s fucked ip cause… well.. she sorta broke the deal. The deal her parents engraved into her head, warned her about. About how vampires are tricky bastards, how they only take and never give. She thinks of this as he rips out another orgasm from her, legs shaky, breath hitched and face wet with tears.. she really gets it now.

And given how he kisses slowly back up her again.. and how he gives a small smile before lightly brushing a tear away, eyes tracing over her features, giddy as a young boy with a school crush.. she’s starting to think he’ll never not take from her again.

[2-old-to-guard]

Nicky's Car Chase

Like much of ToG2 fandom, I've been thinking about the Nicky car chase a totally reasonable amount. So I did the rational thing and slowed it down in my editing software to get a better look.

So from what I can tell from this couple of shots is they are probally running away from Uma Thurman's guys. Nicky's climbing out of the car to escape the upcoming car and also destroy one of the cars tailing them. I love the detail that Joe is reaching for Nicky literally until the last possible second. I'm so sad that he's almost in the car but gets thrown back out of the window due to the collision. Overall, its a kind of beautiful show of trust between the couple. Also that crash almost made me shit myself fully honest.

The second car in this sequence makes me think that this is a chance sequence because this is the same brand of 'bad guy' SUV. I don't know if it's a coincidence but it smells like chase scene. Poor Nicky is sliding his knees against the concrete as he holds on the car. Also, despite the spaghetti Nicky jokes are hilarious, I'm pretty sure it's a half a spaghetti Nicky as only one leg looks like it gets squished. I also like how he only grimaces after the car runs over him. Furthermore, the SUV brakes only after it runs Nicky over (Rude) which makes me think it's gonna turn around to continue the chase.

Cute immortal husbands to pallate the car chase stress.

[airandyeah]

Footballplayer!Sukuna X Toughgirl!Reader Who Do You Think I Am? Pt.5

My Masterlist Series Masterlist

You’re halfway through your morning coffee—cheap, lukewarm, and aggressively bitter—when the hallway drama begins again.

It’s always the same: squeals, perfume clouds, and the faint tremble of excitement when certain footsteps echo down the hall. You don’t have to turn around to know who’s behind you. The sudden hush followed by the swarm tells you everything you need.

And yet, despite the usual chaos, the only thing on your mind is the chipped polish on your thumbnail.

Bright. Pink. Blinding. Like Tiffany’s voice.

You’re not thinking about him. You’re not thinking about the heat of his gaze the day before, or the way he picked up your bag like it was his job. You’re not thinking about how warm his hand was when it brushed yours by accident.

You’re not thinking about him.

“God, do they ever shut up?” you mutter as you yank open your locker. The metal groans like it agrees with you.

Tiffany bounces next to you, completely unaware that your patience is on its last thread. “You saw it, right? How he ignored Yorozu? Like, full-on didn’t even blink. She looked like she got hit by a truck!”

You hum, noncommittal.

“Oh my god, you liked it. You totally liked it!”

“I liked that she ate dirt. There’s a difference.”

You don’t see the eyes watching you from down the hall—sharp and red, tracking your every move like a bad habit he can’t break. He doesn’t ask. He just takes the bag. You glare at him every time, arms crossed while he hoists it over his shoulder like it's nothing. Like it's his. Like you are. “Put it down, jackass,” you mutter the second day in a row. “Don’t wanna,” he shrugs, barely glancing at you as he adjusts the strap. “Your bag’s heavy. Bad for your back.” “It’s my back.” “Exactly,” he says, like that’s the end of the conversation. It’s not chivalry. It’s possession. He’s made that perfectly clear. And the worst part? You let him. You and Tiffany plop down under the shade of a quiet tree, skipping out on the cafeteria madness for something less... overwhelming. You toss a chip at her, and she catches it in her mouth with a grin. “Okay,” she says, mouth half-full, “so are you gonna tell me what’s going on or do I have to keep pretending you’re not literally letting Sukuna Ryomen carry your bag like you’re his wife?” You groan, dropping onto your back with a dramatic sigh. “I hate that everyone’s talking about it.” “Well, you’re talking about it.” “I am complaining about it.” Tiffany hums. “You’re blushing about it.” You sit up, pointing at her. “First of all, shut the fuck up. Second of all... okay. Maybe. I don’t hate the attention. From him. All the way. Just a little.” Tiffany gasps so hard she chokes on her water bottle. “I said maybe!” you snap. “God. He’s just—he’s annoying. Loud. Full of himself.” “And hot. Strong. Smells like woodsmoke and locker room sin,” she lists. You shove her shoulder with a groan. “I can’t stand you.” “Admit it.” “I might have a small, microscopic, almost imaginary feeling for him.” She beams like she’s won the lottery.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you warn.

“Like what?” she says all innocent, twisting the cap back on her drink.

“Like you’re about to say something stupid.”

She hums, then shrugs. “Okay, so—party. Tonight.”

You squint at her.

“You need to loosen up!” she pushes, grabbing your wrist. “Let your hair down, wear something hot, have a drink. Maybe even let someone flirt with you that isn’t Ryomen ‘I’m obsessed with you’ Sukuna.”

Your expression sours, but she’s not backing down. She never does.

“You’ve been all twisted up since you got here. Don’t you think it’s time you have a little fun?” she adds gently. “Just one party.”

You sigh.

Maybe a drink would sort the feelings out. Or at least drown them in tequila long enough to pretend they aren’t real.

“…Fine.”

Tiffany squeals like she’s won a bet. “Yes! You’re gonna look so hot. Sukuna won’t even know what hit him.”

“I thought this was about someone else flirting with me.”

She shrugs, already planning your outfit in her head. “Details, details.” ~~~ Tiffany’s dorm is chaos.

There’s glitter in the carpet, music pulsing low from a speaker, and a half-dozen girls sprawled across beds and floor cushions, half-dressed and passing around makeup brushes like they’re weapons.

You’re sitting on the edge of Tiffany’s unmade bed, already regretting your decision.

And then she holds it up.

The dress.

Short. Sparkly. Crimson. It glints in the light like sin itself.

“Absolutely not,” you say flatly.

Tiffany gasps like you just kicked her puppy. “Absolutely yes. You are wearing this. You are going to be the hottest person at that party, and you’re going to thank me when you get free drinks and neck pain from all the heads turning.”

“It’s tight,” you protest.

“Exactly.”

“It’s short.”

“Exactly.”

“It’s not me.”

“It’s who you’re going to be for one night,” she grins, shoving the hanger into your arms. “Now get dressed, you glorious grumpy bitch.”

You roll your eyes but stand anyway. The girls cheer when you come out of the bathroom, freshly changed and visibly uncomfortable in your own skin.

But then you catch your reflection.

The dress clings in all the right places, the sparkles catching the light like embers. It hugs your waist, your hips, your thighs—everything. Your legs look longer, your figure more dangerous.

It’s not you.

But it’s not bad.

Tiffany whistles low and hands you a tube of red gloss. “Sukuna’s going to combust.”

“I thought we weren’t doing this for him,” you mutter, dabbing the gloss on anyway.

“We’re not. But watching him squirm will be a bonus.”

Tiffany is relentless.

After the dress comes the shoes—tall, black, strappy heels that make your legs look like art and threaten your balance with every step.

“Beauty is pain,” Tiffany says like it’s scripture, tightening the last strap around your ankle.

Then comes the hair.

She brushes, twists, and pins with the grace of a girl who’s done this a thousand times in bathroom mirrors before blurry nights. “You’ve got great hair,” she murmurs as she works. “You never do anything with it.”

“I like not looking like a doll.”

She scoffs. “Tonight, you’re Barbie with a grudge.”

When she’s done, she spins you toward the mirror.

You barely recognize yourself.

Your hair is soft and styled, your lips slick with red gloss, your eyes lined just enough to smolder. The sparkly crimson dress hugs every inch of you like it was sewn onto your body, and the heels make you stand tall—commanding. Dangerous.

You look like someone who could ruin a man.

Or maybe just one in particular.

“You good?” Tiffany asks, holding out a tiny matching clutch for you to carry. “You look like you’re either going to faint or murder someone.”

“Can I do both?”

She grins. “Hell yeah. Now let’s go make memories you’ll deny in the morning.”

The party is already in full swing by the time you and Tiffany arrive.

Music pulses through the walls, the bass thudding against your ribs like a second heartbeat. The lights are dim, tinted with deep reds and golds, and bodies sway and laugh in tight circles of noise and sweat.

The door swings open—and you step through.

It’s almost cinematic, the way the crowd seems to part for you. Maybe it’s the heels. Maybe it’s the dress. Maybe it’s the fire in your eyes. But the second you walk in, the air shifts.

And he feels it.

Across the room, Sukuna Ryomen—football king, locker room menace, shameless bag thief—turns his head.

And stops breathing.

You don’t see it, but Tiffany does. She nudges you with a smug little hum as you make a beeline for the drink table, hips swaying, chin high. Your confidence is stitched into every step like the thread holding your dress together.

Sukuna watches you like a man struck by lightning.

Gone is the gruff swagger, the arrogant scowl. In its place is a stunned, slack-jawed flush that crawls up his neck and sets his ears burning red.

Gojo cackles beside him. “Oh, you’re so fucked.”

Sukuna doesn’t answer. He’s too busy trying not to fall in love.

You reach the drink table, grab a solo cup, and sip coolly, acting like you don’t feel every pair of eyes on you. Especially his.

You don’t look over. You don’t need to.

He’s already watching like you hung the goddamn stars.

You barely have time to finish your first sip when a figure steps into your space like he belongs there.

Tall. Dark hair tied up in a loose bun. Dressed in a black button-down rolled to his forearms and a cocky little smile like he’s never been told no in his life.

“Did it hurt?” he asks smoothly, eyes raking over you with slow, deliberate interest.

You blink up at him, unimpressed. “When I fell from heaven?”

“No,” he grins. “When you walked in and shattered Ryomen’s ego.”

You glance toward the corner, just for a second. Sure enough—Sukuna is glaring. One hand clenched into a fist. The other crushing his red cup with a slow, crinkling squeeze.

You turn back to the stranger. “And you are?”

“Geto. Suguru, if you say it nicely.” He holds out a hand, all practiced charm. “You’re new.”

“Observant.”

“I like that,” he hums. “You’re different. Confident. You don’t look at Sukuna like he’s a god, which is already more interesting than half the girls in this room.”

“I don’t look at anyone like a god,” you reply, cool and steady. “They’d have to earn it.”

His smile widens. “And what does a guy have to do to earn that look?”

“Start by not being annoying.”

“Ouch.”

From across the room, Sukuna is two seconds from combusting.

His jaw ticks. Gojo tries to hold him back with a hand to the chest. “Bro. Chill. You’re gonna break the drywall.”

“He’s touching her,” Sukuna growls, watching Suguru lean in a little too close as you sip your drink with feigned indifference.

“I swear, if you punch Geto, I’m not bailing you out this time.”

Sukuna’s already moving.

Geto clocks Sukuna's approach before you do.

The shift in the air is subtle—less noise, less movement, like the party is holding its breath. Suguru’s eyes flick behind you and his grin only grows sharper.

“Well,” he says, voice smooth and amused, “I think I’ve outstayed my welcome.”

You raise an eyebrow just as he takes a deliberate step back, both hands raised in mock surrender. “I’ll catch you later—if your bodyguard here doesn’t bite my head off first.”

You turn—and there he is.

Sukuna Ryomen, in all his pissed-off glory.

He’s flushed, jaw clenched tight, and his red eyes are locked on you like you’re the only person in the room. He stops just short of you, his presence hot and overwhelming and buzzing with something dangerous under the surface.

You sip your drink slowly, gaze unbothered. “What? Come to growl at me again?”

He doesn’t speak at first.

His eyes trail down the length of your dress—slow, burning, hungry. He’s never seen you like this, not even close. You look like every dream he’s ever had twisted into a challenge.

He swallows hard.

“You look—” His voice catches. “—really fucking good.”

You tilt your head, feigning innocence. “That so?”

He nods once, sharp and tense. “Too good.”

You let the silence stretch just a little too long before you smirk.

“Don’t make it weird, Ryomen. It’s just a dress.”

But you both know it isn’t just anything.

Sukuna smirks—slow, crooked, sharp like the curve of a blade. It’s the first real crack in his usual scowl, and he takes a step closer, enough that you can smell the heat of cologne and sweat from earlier practice.

“You called me Ryomen,” he says, voice dropping just enough to make it feel pointed.

You blink at him, unimpressed. “Yeah, and?”

He grins like he’s won something. “Means I’m growing on you.”

You bark a laugh. “No, it means your name has fewer syllables than ‘annoying football gremlin.’”

He chuckles, eyes crinkling—and god help you, it’s a good look on him.

“Oh, c’mon. You like me.”

You take a step back, just enough to regain airspace, your lip curled into a smirk. “If you’re growing on me, it’s because you’re a parasite.”

That makes his grin falter, just for a second—before he laughs, low and unbothered.

“A parasite, huh?”

“Yeah,” you say, swirling your drink. “Persistent. Loud. Hard to get rid of.”

He watches you over the rim of his cup, eyes gleaming. “Guess you’ll just have to live with me then.”

You don’t respond.

You just smirk, turn, and walk away—hips swaying, glitter catching the low lights—leaving him stunned and speechless in your wake.

From the other side of the party, Geto leans against the wall, sipping his drink with a smug look.

“Totally fucked,” he mutters into his cup.

The music’s pounding behind you, the crowd thick and tipsy and blissfully unaware—but in the quieter hallway off the main floor, it’s just you.

And them.

You hear the giggle first. High-pitched. Fake.

“Hey, slut.”

You barely turn before something shoves your shoulder—hard. You stumble, heels skidding on the tile.

Yorozu steps out from the shadows of the hallway like a queen with a crown made of venom, followed by two of her lackeys—painted and perfect and predatory.

“Well, well,” she drawls, eyes glinting as she circles you. “Glitter dress and everything. You must think you’re so special.”

“I think you should back off,” you snap, squaring your shoulders. “I’m not in the mood.”

But they don’t back off.

They crowd closer instead, like wolves catching the scent of blood.

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are,” Yorozu hisses, voice suddenly sharp. “But that attention from him? That was supposed to be mine.”

You scoff. “So take it up with him.”

Wrong move.

One of the girls grabs your wrist. Another jabs a hand into your shoulder. You twist, trying to yank free—but someone’s fist finds your ribs and you choke on the breath you didn’t have time to brace for.

Your back hits the wall. Hard.

“You think a little makeup and a tight dress means you can just walk in and steal everything?” Yorozu growls, grabbing a fistful of your hair, nails raking your scalp. “You’re nothing.”

“You’re insane.”

“And you’re done.”

She raises a hand—but doesn’t get the chance to swing.

“Let. Her. Go.”

The hallway freezes.

Sukuna’s voice is low and deadly, each word soaked in rage. He’s standing at the end of the corridor, fists clenched, eyes burning.

The girls hesitate. Yorozu turns, trying to save face with a scoff. “It’s not what it looks like—”

“I said let her go.”

The girl holding your wrist recoils like she touched fire.

Yorozu sneers, masking her fear. “You’re really going to throw me away for her?”

“I never fucking had you.”

Then he’s moving—quick, rough, terrifying—and you barely register how fast the girls scatter. Yorozu snarls something under her breath as she storms off, mascara smudged and pride cracked.

And then it’s quiet.

Sukuna steps closer, eyes raking over you—your disheveled hair, the bruise blooming on your arm, the ripped strap of your dress.

“Are you hurt?”

You glare up at him, breathing hard. “Why the fuck do you care?”

He swallows, jaw clenched. “Because I do.”

You don’t say anything.

You can’t.

Not when your knees are shaking and your throat’s tight and the scent of jealousy still hangs in the air.

But when he carefully shrugs off his jacket and wraps it around your shoulders, you don’t pull away.

Not this time.

He doesn’t touch you beyond helping you up.

Not a word, not a sound, just his jacket slipping gently around your shoulders and his arm hovering near your back—not quite touching, but ready if you need him.

You’re still shaking.

Not from pain. Not even from fear.

From the heat of rage curling in your chest, from the humiliation licking up your spine like a slow burn, from the weight of everyone looking but no one seeing what just happened.

Except him.

He walks you down the driveway, the party fading behind you into nothing more than music and meaningless chatter.

Tiffany’s car is parked haphazardly along the curb. She’s leaning against it, scrolling on her phone, still glittering from the party.

When she looks up and sees you, her smile drops.

“Oh my god— what the hell happened?!”

Sukuna’s voice is calm, quiet. “She needs to go home.”

“She—wait, did someone—?!”

“Take her home, Tiffany.” He looks at you—just for a second. His eyes are steady. “Please.”

There’s no arrogance. No teasing smirk. Just that one word, raw and real in a way that silences even Tiffany.

She opens the door immediately. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

You slide in without protest. Your hands are still clenched in your lap, his jacket draped heavy around your shoulders. The warmth of it clings to you.

Sukuna leans in just enough to say something—but stops.

Whatever words he might’ve said, he swallows them down like they’d hurt to say wrong.

And then he steps back.

Tiffany drives in silence for a while before she dares to whisper, “He looked like he was gonna kill someone…”

You don’t respond.

You’re too busy gripping the jacket like it’s armor.

Too busy wondering why the boy you hated most now feels like the only safe thing in your world.

Tag list is always open! Okay but, restraining order.... Tags: @nina6708 , @sherrieblossoms , @charlie-xo , @iloveredwineee , @kyo-kyo1 , @clp-84 , @book0fdr3ams , @enhasrii , @sanzuhoe , @strangelovedream Perm tags: @thenightperson , @makingtimemine , @nina-from-317

[fruit-fight]

YOU GET IT!

Hear me out!( Ramble that quickly turned into a dialogue mini fic)

Wukong finally starts to understand the beef when he starts attending PTA with Macaque, so he's like, "dw babe, watch this." And decides to show off their son's other 50% which as we all know is gremlin little shit(who also happens to be FILTHY rich). Imagine one of her kids is a fan of Monkey King(he's all over children's media), and another is a friend of Xiaoxing, so both get invited to his birthday. Linda has to go or she looks petty and can't pull the old "well you can't expect everyone to be available at the same time" bc Mac made a point to invite her and her sons, personally, in front of everyone including her sons. Her babies even got their own individual royal RSVP cards to feel grown up. She looks at the location. It's FFM and free, SAFE, transportation is provided. Wukong is standing behind Mac, looking far too pleased despite doing everything he can over the centuries to keep people out. Her sons are estatic. She can't refuse or bash it. But she's too stubborn to trust sending her boys only, so she's coming.

Wukong remodeled everything back to its glory days. The cave tunnel system are all rustic, beautifully carved hallways of the mountain that's technically a palace on the inside with modern touches in the more "commonly used" areas, like tech and plumbing(✨️Magic✨️) and hand painted murals. The mountain is literally a stone palace! The weather is perfection. The Monkies are perfectly mannered, gentle, and playful with all the kids Xiaoxing invited, and avoid Linda like the plague after she huffed and puffed about animals loving her. To the point it was almost comical watching them go out of their way to get away from her, a bold young one going so far as to throw a nut at her head to give another the chance to escape(theyre all over Macaque as usual tho). And the beaches are pristine.

Wukong worked on it for months just to see Linda's face as Mac had the time of his life rubbing it all in.

Macaque: "Oh, Linda, I'm sure your 5th husband would have party prepped an entire island, and payed for all the cantering, and bought a pile of expensive gifts, and payed for all the set up, and still be an amazing stay at home dad if you gave him the chance. Or was it the 3rd? Which one are you on now? I can't remember. At least you never get back with an ex, you're so much stronger than Wukong and I, in that regard. Guess we can't seem to let the other go" *sighs wistfully*

Wukong: *Slides up next to them with brightly colored drinks* Hey Mrs. ___! Hello, beautiful~ the Nannies you're sister recommended just arrived and bar is now open~

Linda, desperately latching onto the only thing she can complain about: Hello, Mr. Sun~ that sounds fun but I gave up most alcohol after my first litter, besides this is a children's birthday party. I wouldn't want that to be what breaks my streak. It'd be irresponsible of me.

Shadowpeach: *bombastic side eye*

Wukong: Well, that's no problem, everyone to their own. Virgin is an option for most drinks, and I caught that 'most', plum wine, and peach wine are both options available. Also there will be karaoke for the kids soon soooo

Macaque, genuinely surprised and pleased: *gasp* Plum wine?! You got my favorite? I haven't had that in forever!

Wukong: one correction, I made Plum wine with the grove I grew here for you. And yeah, I noticed you haven't had the chance to relax were you weren't to tired to bother with alcohol so I picked up a couple old hobbies. I had the time to kill anyway for a bit of research. Surprise!

Macaque, genuinely touched and lowkey forgetting the act for a second: Oh, mango, thats so sweet🥰

Linda:

Wukong: That reminds me, I'm also giving mango wine a go, so that'll be out of the cellar in a few months for taste testing.

Macaque, remembering himself and trying really hard(failing) to get his shit together: That'll be fun!

Linda, lowkey fuming as she watches the exchange: I'm sure. So what is that you have there Mr. Sun?~

Wukong, legit forgot she was there for a sec: oh! Right! *hands a rainbow drink to Macaque* This is a drink I saw online. Thought it would be fun to try.

They both take a sip.

Wukong: Oh!

Macaque: This is actually really good, what's it called?

Wukong, already giggling: Sex on the Beach

Macaque, rolling his eyes fondly: So Mature. Though that does remind me~ You worked so hard to make today perfect for Xiaoxing, how will I ever thank you?~

Wukong, caught a little off guard: *Stares. Looks down at his drink as though asking what was in it before deciding he didn't care rn. Looks back up at Macaque, processes. Glances down at the drink again before finally focusing on Mac and responding* I might be feeling inspired~

Linda, actually loosing her mind at being pushed aside so casually so many times: Maybe I will have a little treat for Mommy. Wukong, you seem to know your stuff, any recommendations?~

Wukong: I'm sure you'll get a much more interesting answer out of our bartender. Anyway, peach! You want me to adjust your dampening spell now or later? One of the kids seem really excited about Frozen.

Macaque, delighted by the way Linda's face crumpled at being brushed off by Wukong: I can wait until they pull out the machine, thank you mango~ *pecks his cheek just to rub it in*

Linda finally huffed and stomped off toward the bar as dignified as she can manage, leaving Macaque giggling into Wukongs shoulder. Wukong trying not to laugh as he watches her stumble through the sand on unfamiliar paws.

Wukong: Well pissing her off was fun

Macaque: Right! Did you see her face after she asked for a drink? I think she expected you to fetch it for her!

Wukong: I did! Dumb bitch. I'm literally a king. Even if I was interested, expecting me to wait on you is not how you flirt with me.

Macaque: I don't know~ you seem pretty eager to serve me last week~ you look so pretty on your knees.

Wukong: Stfu. I'm gonna go check on the other parents.

Macaque: Okay, I'm gonna go check on the kids and let the caterers know they can bring out the popsicles now.

When are you gonna drop a Linda design? I need to draw the beef!/silly

- @fruit-fight

Give me an animal to base her off of and I’ll get to work💃💃

[thestarsaboveme]

this was a request from a kind anon.

summary: reader who really likes horror movies.

rafayel | zayne | sylus | caleb

xavier x reader | fluff

The screen flickers in the darkened living room, casting long shadows over the blanket you've wrapped yourself in. The volume is low, hut how you like it when rewatching a horror movie for the sixth time. No, seventh? So you can better hear the scrawl of your pen in your notebook.

Well ''notebook'' might be generous. It's a Frankenstein monster of paper and tape, post-its and torn film pamphlets, a few dried flower petals. From Midsommar night, you tell people. Xavier had looked…concerned. And at least one coffee stain shaped suspiciously like that one slashers mask you had seen a couple nights ago.

Xavier lounges on the far end of the couch, legs stretched out, one arm draped along the back. He's watching you, not the screen.

''Alright,'' he murmurs, voice deep and velvety in the low light, ''what's the kill count now?''

You glance up with a distracted smile, flipping a page filled with messy annotations and a crude sketch of the film's main set. ''Four so far, but technically it's five if you count the dog. And I do. You have to count the dog.''

He chuckles under his breath. ''Of course.''

''Also, okay, listen,'' you shift to face him fully, your chunky book resting open on your lap, ''the director, knew what he was doing with that mirror shot. It's not just for cheap tension. It's a metaphor.''

''For…?''

''For the fractured self! The protagonist is literally split between who they think they are and the monster they might become. It's so good. You can see it in the way the lighting shifts every time they walk past a reflective surface. It's subtle, but intentional. I have notes on the cinematographer's techniques somewhere in…wait…'' You begin flipping pages rapidly.

Xavier leans over slightly, eyes scanning the mass of scribbled ink, ticket stubs, and what might be a grocery list that says ''garlic (not vampire-related, real-life needs) in bold letters.

''You know,'' he says softly, with the kind of fond amusement that makes your heart thump, ''you ramble about murder and psychological horror with the same tone most people use to talk about puppies.''

You freeze. ''Is that…weird?''

''No.'' His answer was instant, gentle. ''It's you.''

You blink.

''Besides,'' he adds, reaching to tug a yellowed corner of a loose page back into the notebook, ''I think it's kind of adorable, how much you care about the craft. The way your eyes light up when you explain things. It's…warm.''

You look at him, and for a moment the only sound is the TV. ''Even when I talk about dismemberment theory in Hereditary?''

He smiles. ''Especially then.''

A beat.

''I can keep going?'' you ask, hopeful.

He tilts his head back against the couch and closes his eyes like he's listening to a lullaby. ''I'm all ears.''

And so, you do. You ramble about camera angles symbolism, quote obscure interviews, compare thematic motifs across horror eras. All while your chunky little notebook rests between you like a bridge, pages fluttering like wings. Xavier doesn't interrupt. He just listens, smiles, and once in a while, adds a quiet, ''Tell me more.''

In that quiet room, between shadows on screen and the soft hum of your voice, Xavier finds something scarier than any movie.

He's falling. And he doesn't want to stop.

[heartsforkatsuki]

rude.  ｡°✩ e. kirishima

pov ; your dad won’t give ur boyfriend of 8 years his blessing

pairing: eijiro kirishima x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, marriage, swearing, yearning lovesick kirishima!!!

word count: ~1.9k. song; rude by magic!

kirishima had fallen in love with you at first sight.

the minute he saw you in the entrance exams, he prayed you’d both get in together. he came up to you and wished you a very manly , loud, “good luck!!” with a hand on his hip and his other in a thumbs up.

you’d found it weird at first, and returned his enthusiasm with an awkward “thank you..?” and walked away.

now, 11 years later, looking back, you find it endearing, and can’t believe how long it took you to end up where you are now.

the minute he heard you woke up after the war, kirishima ran to your room and hugged you. not even 2 seconds before you could process him, he asked you to be his girlfriend and explained how he felt about you all along.

“[name], i’m so inlove with you. i have been since the entrance exams. i’ve been keeping that from you for three years.. so sorry. that wasn’t cool of me. i really, really hope you feeling the same way ‘cause if you don’t, i’ll bet i look pretty stupid right now.. you’re just so.. beautiful and captivating .. and strong. so strong.. and really cool just.. all around. what i’m trying to say is.. will you be my girlfriend? please? oh! dang, and i’m so so glad you’re okay! i should’ve started with that.. dang it.“

he said everything so rushed, you just sat there in your hospital bed blinking at him.

“i.. what?”

“its okay if you don’t feel the sa-“

you finally processed it all.

“no, no! i do! im sorry, it took me a minute to process.”

he rubbed the back of his head, looking at the floor. the tips of his ears were turning the same color as his hair now.

it was adorable.

“so…?”

“yes! yes, i’ll be your girlfriend!”

now, 8 years later, you’re still together and more in love than ever. you’ve succeeded at acquiring your dream job, and your boyfriend has been climbing up the hero rankings, sitting at #12! what could be better than this? there’s one problem though.. what’s been taking him so long to make you his forever?

it was approximately 8AM, you woke up to a message from your boyfriend saying he left early for work.

you sighed, reading through the text.

goodmorning, babe! if you’re reading this it’s cause you’re awake, which means you should have (hopefully) noticed your amazing, radical, the manliest of them all boyfriend is infact not laying down next to you! (that’s me btw) i had to go to work early babes, i’ll be home later! i love you baba girl😘😍😍!

you chuckled, texted back a heart and an okay , be safe before you went to check the calendar.

it was saturday.

eijiro almost never, ever worked on saturdays unless there was an emergency. he wouldn’t even check in at the agency.

so of course, the first thing you did was check the news.

nothing really, just small criminals and no big villains. what could he possibly be doing?

so the next thing you did was check his location. not because you’re crazy, but you were genuinely worried. you never ever checked his location, you didn’t need to. but he insisted to give you it just in case, so you never had to doubt.

currently, he was on super close to Osaka, and it said he’d been driving there for about two hours now.

Osaka? What the hell is in Osa…

your parents. your parents lived in Osaka, nobody else you guys knew lived there. when you saw exactly where he was, you saw he was literally pulling up on your parent’s street.

what the hell?

eijiro pulled up in the driveway to your parents house, his palms clammy on the steering wheel.

he’d been thinking about doing this for a while now, but he knew just how your dad felt about him.

your dad was a very old-fashioned man, didn’t exactly love the idea of you dating, much less marrying, a hero.

he didn’t want there to be an accident, only to end up with a depressed, grieving, hurt daughter.

and he made sure you knew it.

“he’s gonna do something stupid one day, [name], and then you’ll regret it.“

you’d always ignored him, and eijiro was forever grateful.

he tried as hard as he could to change your dad’s views on heroes, explaining how passionate he was, and why he decided on it in the first place.

he never really budged though.

now, kirishima was standing at your parents’ doorstep at 8am on a saturday morning, in his best suit, tailored just for this moment, and a big bouquet for your mom.

he brushed his hands on his dress pants and pushed the doorbell button.

he stood there for a minute looking at his shoes, until he heard the lock turn.

when he looked up, he was met with your dad’s resting bitch face. except now it was ten times worse, seeing as it was 8 in the morning.

“ah.. goodmorning, mr. [surname].”

“eijiro? it’s 8am.” your dad crossed his arms, spreading his feet.

“i know.” he lifted his hand, handing the flowers over to your father. “those are for mrs. [surname].”

“thank you? why are you here, young man?” he scowled.

“i came because i wanted to ask you.. for your blessing.” he rubbed the back of his neck, “to marry [name].”

“i love your daughter more than anything, and i’ve kept her waiting for 8 years now. i’ve been inlove with her for 11 years now, and i want to spend the rest of my life with her.”

your dad scoffed to that, “which i’m sure won’t be long, eijiro. your job is gonna end up with my daughter heartbroken.”

“sir, please, i’m safe! i love your daughter, plea—”

“over my dead body. no. until i die, you aren’t marrying my daughter.” he slammed the door in front of eijiro.

“fuck..” he sighed, running a hand through his hair before walking back to his car.

“I just don’t get why he’s so rude to me.” kirishima groaned, placing his beer on the table infront of him.

“he’s just an asshole dude, ignore him.” bakugo responded, rolling his eyes.

“hey! that’s my future father in law you’re talking about.” he whined, taking a swig of beer.

“he won’t be if you keep paying attention to the bullshit he’s spouting.” the blonde picked up his own beer, drinking it.

“dude, i’m gonna marry her anyways.. i just need to convince him.” kirishima insisted, his hands balling into fists.

the week after that, kirishima did the same thing as he did that last saturday morning, he bought a brand new suit and showed up with an bigger bouquet.

the door creaked open, and he made sure to get the first word in

“can i have your daughter for the rest of my life? please. i love her, i can provide for her as i always have, and i’ll give my life to make her happy.”

he prayed your father would say yes, chanting it in his head.

“no.” he slammed the door, again.

“hey babe, why does your dad hate me so much?”

it was now two weeks after the first visit, and you hadn’t asked him about why he went to go see your parents yet.

“he doesn’t hate you…” you curled on the couched next to him, stroking his hair, “he’s just looking out for me, babe.”

“why does he have to hate me in order to look out for you?” he pouted.

“he doesn’t hate you babe!”

the following week, he repeated his attempts.

another new suit, and a bigger bouquet. he stood at the door, determined to walk away with your fathers blessing this time.

one thing changed though, this time your father didnt open the door, your mom did.

“Oh. goodmorning, mrs. [surname]. how are you?” he asked, lifting the bouquet to her.

“goodmorning, eijiro. i’m well, thank you for asking, and for the flowers dear.” she smiled.

“is mr. [surname] home?” he asked, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants again.

“yes, he is. let me get him for you.”

she stepped away from the door, and soon, your dad appeared. his expression was unreadable this time.

“you again?” he grunted.

“yes, sir. i know you’ve said no—three times now—but i love your daughter. i’m going to marry her. with or without your blessing… but i’d rather it be with.”

your father stayed silent.

“i’ve never loved anyone the way i love her. she’s the first and only person i’ve ever truly wanted to build a future with. i want to wake up next to her every morning. i want to take care of her, support her, grow old with her. and i promise you, with everything i have, i’ll protect her.”

your dad sighed, long and heavy.

“…you’re a persistent little bastard, huh?”

kirishima swallowed, “only for her, sir.”

your father stared at him for a long moment before stepping aside.

“come in.”

kirishima blinked, stunned. “w-what?”

“you heard me. come in.”

he followed him inside, nervous and stiff as a board.

they talked for over an hour. about life, about you, about the future. your father asked hard questions, challenged him, and at one point even asked if he was truly willing to give up being a hero someday if it came down to choosing between his life or yours.

without hesitation, kirishima answered, “i’d choose her. every time.”

eventually, your dad nodded slowly and let out another sigh.

“…fine. you have my blessing.”

kirishima nearly collapsed from relief.

“but you better not make her cry. not once. or i swear—”

“never, sir. never.”

a few days later, you came home to find a trail of glowing red petals leading to your backyard. confused, you followed them.

and there he was.

in a perfectly fitted black suit, holding a small, red velvet box in his hand, his other hand tucked nervously into his pocket.

the yard was lit up with fairy lights, and small candles floated in a heart-shaped pond he’d made with some help.

“[name],” he said, voice cracking just a little, “i’ve loved you since the day i met you. you’re everything to me. my best friend, my strength, my peace. i want to spend every second of my life making you feel as loved as you make me feel.”

he got down on one knee.

“will you marry me?”

you cried. of course you did.

dang it, he already messed up the first rule.

but you said yes so fast, he didn’t even finish opening the box before you tackled him with a hug.

later that night, you sat together under the stars, your head on his shoulder, your hand in his—now with a sparkling ring on it.

“so,” you whispered, “what changed my dad’s mind?”

he smiled and kissed your forehead. “i just told him the truth. and refused to leave until he believed it.”

you giggled. “you’re so stubborn.”

“only for you, babe.”

[chokifandom]

GIVE ME MYDEI 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

okay jokes aside hello choki ^^ i am here to gently and lovingly request a mydei fic from you…i’m kinda Bad at coming up with request ideas but. perhaps uhh reader is injured somehow?? what do we think happens 😳❓

I’M SORRY THIS IS SO UNSERIOUS I TOLD YOU I’M BAD AT THESEEE

mentions of injury, blood, but it’s not anything too serious, wc: ~530

a/n: MY DEAR MIRAAA I KNOW YOU REQUESTED THIS LITERAL WEEKS AGO BUT.. YOU KNOW 😓😓😓 i was initially going to write something really angsty but i do not have it in my heart to hurt mydei (also bc this ask is so unserious i had to follow suit 🙂‍↕️).. honestly he is so husband i need him to have my kids.

“... and then phainon turned in a blank essay! i don’t know, but that’s surely a brave thing to do in professor anaxa’s class.” you giggle. the kitchen is filled with all sorts of noises this evening— the subtly grating sound of knives against the cutting board, and something bubbling within a pot over the flames. with a ladle in his hand, mydei stirs, and the aroma of the spices immediately fills the air. “oh, it smells so good already!”

“hmph. he knew what he was walking into,” a hint of smugness bleeds into his voice. he’d let go of no opportunity to ridicule the deliverer. “he did this to himself.”

“that’s for sure, professor anaxa is—” you don’t feel the blade against your fingers until it is too late, and you wince, setting the knife aside. immediately, mydei turns down the flames and steps towards you. his hand wrapped around your wrist, he guides you to the sink and lets the water run.

“here,” he leaves your hand under the stream of water, brows slightly furrowed as he watches the red from your hand seeping into it, staining the sink a vivid shade. “stay like that for a bit, i’ll go and get the bandaids.”

“oh, you don’t have to! i can go fix myself up. the food might get ruined.”

you move to step away from the sink, but he is quicker— his hands find your wrist again, almost silently willing you to stay put. there’s something about his insistence that is undemanding, but reassuring all the same. “don’t worry about that; just tell me where you keep your medicine.”

“the box should be in the cabinet next to the couch.” the initial stinging shock of cool water subsides almost immediately. mydei disappears into the living room, and you can hear him shuffling around the cabinet. then, the sound of its door falling back into its place, and his footsteps approaching the kitchen.

it doesn’t take him long to return with the little box. you withdraw your hand from below the tap; you can feel the heat dissipating from your wounds a little too well, the skin around the cuts pruning up. “give me your hand.”

“it’s just a cut, i can handle it—”

“i’m sure you can.” he says, but his tone isn’t one of sarcasm or mockery he peels the bandaids in seemingly practiced motions, and takes your hand in his. he is so gentle, and so kind as he wraps them onto your fingers, and the whole act feels strangely raw and intimate— like a secret spoken in hushed tones and amidst giggles. one about mydeimos, the mighty prince of kremnos, slayer of a thousand men, and how he was currently bandaging the cuts on your fingers. “you’re always rushing when you talk.” he scolds, and you can’t help but smile.

“but you bandaged me up anyway!” your smile turns into laughter, and you pull him closer to you, placing the most featherlight kiss on his cheek. he’s flushed slightly red when you pull back.

“i’d do it for you, any day, my dear.” it was now your turn for the heat to climb into your cheeks.

“i— okay, let’s get back to making dinner! i am not sleeping hungry tonight!”

“not us, just me. i can’t have you cutting your fingers again.”