#* written by 🍒

[hanfourz]

pepero kisses .𖥔 ݁ ˖

summary: how they would do the pepero/pocky challenge

pairing: ot5 boynextdoor x gn!reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: <100 for each

warnings: kissing lol

note: (written by 🍒!)

𐙚 sungho ― says he want to show you a "trick". so he shows you how to put one in your mouth then suddenly starts eating from the other side with zero warning.

𐙚 riwoo ― you both were just watching tiktoks together and were like 'let's do this'. so he just puts it in his mouth and waits for you to eat it but you were flustered and he found you adorable. you just started eating it slowly and he starts to eat it from the other side, smiling at you.

𐙚 jaehyun ― saw a tiktok and immediately jumps to get a pack and tells you to eat one. then he suddenly grabs your shoulders and starts eating it from the other side and kissing you.

𐙚 taesan ― i live for flustered taesan. so while you were eating them, he asked if he can have some. youre like sure with a little smirk and put one in your mouth and tell him to come get it.

𐙚 leehan ― oh bitch you just want to eat your pocky stick in peace and he suddenly takes your face in his hands and eats it. then he kisses you leaving you flustered and shy.

[visionsofmagic]

past lover, new era [liu kang • headcanon]

―✹ you're liu kang's past lover.

[mk1!liu kang, fluff, a bit spicy, past lover!reader, gn!reader, new era!reader, short (headcanon) + requested by anon! thank you for the request. ^^ have fun, hope you like it! “Do you write for Liu Kang MK1 version? I’d love to read any kind of headcanon about him that you’d offer if you do!!”

❦ being a past lover of liu kang comes with benefits and yet prices. there are many moments of love, affection, and passion you share with him but also, the dangerous side of it cannot be ignored; being the god of fire takes lots of attention after all. however, this never stops liu kang from protecting you at any cost without making you notice completely.

❦ since you don't know about being his past lover until he tells the story you had in the era he came from, you just find his focus and special attention on you a bit odd yet exciting at the same time because even after learning the truth, you can swear you will fall for this man in every universe and he will do the same; you're the most special person to him - his one and only.

❦ he will definitely train with you, giving you tips, abilities, and strength you can't imagine another one providing because he's so delicate with you; not hurting and not being so weak around you while training. he knows you're damn well strong - he remembers the times you kicked his ass countless times from where he came.

❦ he will try hard not to show he knows you from his past life but he simply can't control his desires when it comes to you, not when you sit right there and look at his frame with sparkling eyes. he remembers the promises you made - well, the one in his timeline but he bets you're all the same in every timeline - perfect from head to toe, inside to outside, in every aspect he can think.

he has thoughts of holding your hands, saying all the sweet things he couldn't say before, telling all about the truth, and not wanting to lose you once again. however, he can't, no, it's for you, and the timeline's good - for a moment at least until the events go crazy, out of his control.

❦ before telling you the timeline thing, how he is the one who created this era, he will make sure not to appear as a freak whenever he looks at you - watches you in other words 'cause he never is the man who can hold himself from looking at the person he wants to bend the whole timeline into their feet if they want to.

so, it's a bit weird at first times but you two start to get along, you stay beside him more than you do with others, helping him in every way you're able to, joking around him, acting as if he's not a god but only a mere human - like the one he was once, your best friend, and maybe even more.

❦ he will lecture you non-stop, can't help, he has to be sure you're safe and sound and he will always allow you to put your hands on his shoulders, smiling at him and saying everything is okay - is it? - he will think, then, he will forget about it all when he feels your lips on his cheek, a kind of warmness he feels only from you.

being his past lover comes with perks; touching him, kissing him, looking at him anytime you want to. he will try to hide the heat that rushes to his whole body, not the fire he has already, no, something different, something that burns him alive in a way that he wants it happening at a non-stop pace.

you will know your own effects on him, surprisingly, he's weaker and stronger at the same time - beside you.

❦ he will tell you about you to geras. he leaves some facts to only himself tho; how he can't control himself, how he wants to kiss you, hug you, tell to you that you can have him on his knees by simply saying it - how unfortunate he has duties.

he would choose you over the world, he believes, so maybe that's why raiden warned him to be careful while creating a new timeline - he doesn't care after a certain point: you kissing him.

❦ he will freeze for a moment, not comprehending what's happening but then, it will hit him; like a firework explodes in the night sky, all the memories will blow up inside his mind, flowing into his soul and heart.

he will not be able to move an inch but when you break the kiss, he will look into your eyes, seeing his own reflection in them mixed with sparkles and a bit of worry, he will not hold back anymore. he will take you by the waist, the other free hand finding your cheek, he will pull you to his arms, kissing your lips with such passion that you will lose your balance only to find it within him and his warm lips on you, "liu -"

❦ the kiss is the first one for you. for him, it will feel like a memory and yet a new adventure. it's the same - and different. he melts - you make him feel loved again without even knowing it. what a person you are, having him inside your arms long before knowing it.

❦ coming to his senses, he will stop his actions, leaving you dumbfounded for a moment before explaining everything, every detail to you because he can't do this to you - what was he thinking anyway? putting you in the new era's timeline and planning you will not fall for him? or worse, him falling in love with you all over again? how could you feel so same yet different, he can't tell.

❦ he expects you to hit him, reject him, or even leave him and all this behind. contrary to what he thinks, you nod, taking time to comprehend it entirely, and when you're ready to speak with him again, you give him a soft smile and say, "I fall for you every damn time then, huh?"

❦ he will smile too, 'cause you're still his one and only, a bit distinct yes, he doesn't mind - how he can? he doesn't want to waste another time to go nothing without you, all suffer, no, he chooses to be beside you this time and you beside him. what's the worst that could happen when he has you?

❦ after knowing you're aware of the condition you two are in, he will become more daring whenever you two have alone time, away from others and the whole world around you. he will look at you openly, not afraid to show his emotions, the love he has for you. he won't take his eyes from your frame the moment you enter his sight.

❦ he will put kisses on every part of your body that he wishes. will listen to cute little voices you make thanks to him, coming to his ears as the most beautiful melody he has ever heard. will allow you to kiss him back, out of nowhere, or just out of curiosity about how he will react to you. you have a special part in his life, you can do whatever you want to do with him.

❦ he will hug you so many times that you will leave tracking it down; from back when you can't hear him approaching and being surprised - ready to attack but calming down and smiling when you see his glowing eyes up close to your heated face, from front to let your hands find his wide shoulders - he loves to see your pretty face, from the waist when he sits and you stay between his inner thighs.

he will let you hug him in return, finding both peace and passion inside your embrace.

❦ he will go intimate when you want him to, he is a gentleman. will allow you to sit on his lap the moment you need to, hugging you from the back, he will lower your face down so that he can kiss your lips, lose himself in the taste of you. will, surely, touch delicate parts of your body, earning soft, low, and sometimes high moans from your pretty lips. will chuckle when he finds you entertaining, almost too weak around him.

"pretty," he will call you - oh, he will call you with lots of pet names; my love, my one and only, darlin', sweetheart, honey... gentle with you, as always. "you have no idea how pretty you look right now. I can spend my entire life only to look at this face of yours."

[ashstwr]

⠀⠀𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀��� 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐔𝐒

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ (⠀a.k.a Leilana, me⠀)

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 🪷

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ 𝖫ᥱιᥣᥲᥒᥲ 𝖱ᥲthorᥱ was the fifth of nine royal children, often finding herself pleasantly overlooked in the bustling palace. Her elder siblings were preparing for their grand responsibilities, while the youngest twins along with their two and year older brothers, a quad of whirlwind of chaos, demanded constant attention from their parents. This sweet spot in the middle allowed Leilana a freedom. She grew up observing, learning, and often, disappearing to the secret spots of the palace, discovered on her own.

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀From a young age, she was a curious and active child. While her siblings were busy with formal lessons, Leilana would slip away to the servants' quarters, learning to mend, sew and embroiding from the palace maids. She would mimic the soldiers' warm-up exercises, her tiny frame practicing sword swings with a stick, later graduating to daggers and archery. She climbed trees and walls, scaring her soldiers for her well-being. She ran wild with the maids' children, her laughter echoing through the palace gardens, across flower fields, and by the lake, often with a spoon or stick clutched in her hand like a sword.

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ Despite the joyful chaos of her childhood, she diligently pursued her royal studies, pondering over history, mastering business management and accountancy despite getting headaches from all the numbers and finances, and perfecting the regal poise expected of a princess, well she pretended she perfected it. But it was in the palace library, especially on cold winter days, that she found her truest sanctuary, losing herself for hours amidst the world of books, unlocking many other different worlds in her mind.

⠀ ⠀𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤

&⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐃𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ Leilana had a deep, unyielding love for dance, a stark contrast to her father's unexplained disapproval, especially of public performances. Thankfully, her mother and aunts secretly nurtured this passion, teaching her the graceful movements and rhythms of their kingdom. As she blossomed into a young woman along with her rebellious streak, her nightly escapades began. Slipping out of the palace, often with her trust friend who is her personal guard, Leilana would immerse herself in the lively rhythm of the villages along with other street dancers.

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀These weren't just random adventures. Leilana, even in disguise, was a keen observer and too curious for her own good. She'd walk among the villagers, watching their lives unfold, learning their traditions, and most importantly, their diverse forms of music and dance. Her first few outings were always with her most trusted friend, ensuring her safety as she navigated the bustling streets. Over time, she became a familiar, while mysterious, presence in many villages and streets.

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ The way she moved, flowing effortlessly with the music, earned her whispered nicknames among the people: the Dancing Swan, the Gliding Pearl, the Dancing Deity and most of all the one that fits her, Dancing White Peacock. No one, not even in their wildest dreams, suspected this anonymous dancer was their very own princess. Many believe it's a diety who have come down and blessed their village by performing dances. Little dramatic and far stretched, she would think but since she used her charm magic, she suppose the villages are safe.

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Through these regular outings, she built connections, gaining invaluable insights into the daily lives and concerns of her people. Her father, surprisingly, later learned of her secret commander duties with her self picked team of soldiers. He noticed that detailed reports on the kingdom's functioning, gate security, and border patrols along with the elimination of enemies and catching traitors often coincided with her 'relaxing trips and sightseeing'.

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ Recognizing her sharp intellect and capability, he subtly allowed it which diplomatically means he is allowing her to have royal power. He often send her off to foreign and diplomatic meetings for information and foreign kingdom study along with the marketing and financing business of their kingdom. The journey often contains bandits and goons trying to attack Leilana's group but her and her team easily take them down due to their training. By doing this, it's obvious to the citizens who is going to be crowned next.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀One particular encounter during her village visits always brought a smile to her face: a charming old grandma who crafted excellent ornaments. This grandma, a charm magic reader of destiny's threads, seemed to see something special in Leilana, unbeknown to her about the grandma's identity and her charm magic. Each time they met, she would gift Leilana a unique piece.

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ One day, she bestowed upon Leilana a beautiful, elegant ring, to which it had a matching twin, meant for a fated soulmate. These two rings were the only pair of their kind. The grandma is playing a matchmaker and she seems to have found out the special one to the only Leilana Rathore, the future light of the nation.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ As the kingdom buzzed with preparations for a grand annual ball, celebrating the strong alliances between her kingdoms and others while maintaining peace. With every royals being busy, Leilana completed her duties and, as usual, slipped away to the streets. The villages were even more crowded than usual, brimming with an excited energy.

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Leilana found herself on a makeshift dance floor, swirling amidst the joyous crowd. During a graceful twirl, her embroidered shawl snagged on someone's bangle. Without missing a beat, relying on pure instinct and years of improvisation, she seamlessly incorporated him into her movements, twirling him into a spontaneous duo dance. He was utterly surprised but admirably kept pace.

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ Their eyes meet. A flicker of recognition sparked within Leilana. She knew him, how could she not ! He was one of the rare foreign princes, a smart scholar who had made accomplishment in his research fields and making his name well known, the Sim Jaeyun from his kingdom. Along with being a great scholar, he also had a pretty face and a smile that could get any princess smile back at him. But to Leilana, he was a sweet boy she'd met in her childhood years, their encounter tucked away to her depth of her heart.

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀A tearful young Leilana, sitting on a palace staircase with a sprained ankle after a tumble in her too-long skirt. He'd appeared like a guardian, distracting her with a lotus flower, almost falling into the pond in his panicked rush to retrieve it. His frantic return, his expression similar to that of a panicked puppy, had made her laugh despite her pain. As he gently dabbed the blood from her scraped knee with his handkerchief, her mother's call had sent her scrambling away, leaving behind one of her ill-fitting gold bangles.

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ Now, with half her face hidden by her dancing veil, she doubted he'd recognize her. Before he could fully process their brief, intense connection, she released him, letting him merge back into the swirling crowd, and then, as swiftly as she appeared, she slipped away towards the palace. But he was captivated. He'd fallen for those unique eyes on the spot, making him visit the same street to spot the same eyes he fell on the first look.

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Spending that entire week revisiting the same spot in the village, hoping for another glimpse of the mysterious dancer he had dance with was all in vain. To his dismay, she never reappeared. Just as he was about to give up, that same old grandma with the knowing eyes stopped him. Without a word, she pressed a ring, the twin to Leilana's, into his hand and vanished before he could speak.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ On the day of the grand banquet, Leilana stood beside her father, greeting the endless stream of royal and noble guests. Her feet ached, her cheeks were stiff from smiling, and her heavy dress felt like a burdensome weight. Then, his family entered. Leilana's eyes widened. She had forgot the encounter, how stupid is she! She caught his gaze, saw his own eyes widen in surprise when their eyes met, no doubt about the recognition between them, before he quickly composed himself into a polite smile. But she'd seen it, that initial shock. And then, her breath hitched.

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Around his wrist, glinting subtly, was her old gold bangle. Old but kept cleaned and well. The one she'd left behind all those years ago. He had kept it. All these years. A strange, warm flutter bloomed in her chest, a feeling she couldn't quite decipher, but she pushed it aside. A wave of panic washed over her at the same. What if he recognized me? That's obvious, he clearly knew that's it's you. What if he tells Mother? Even worse, Father? How much trouble would I be in, especially since I never take a guard when I sneak out?

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ But before she can come up with a plan, he passed by, his voice, a low murmur meant only for her, cut through the chatters of the banquet: "Quite the captivating eyes you have. Some dances are just for us." The princess, no, just her, just Leilana, felt her heart pound, a mix of alarm and that inexplicable, warm flutter. This banquet, meant for alliances, was shaping up to be far more complicated than she'd ever imagined. She didn't intend for this nor she saw this coming, always keeping her guard up when it came to her heart, especially if her tradition doesn't allow a relationship with an outsider. She is doomed when her heart beats unfamiliar pace when she sees the smile his face is adorning.

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Doomed she is, the urge to flee away like a peacock to keep her feelings locked away shimmering up in her mind.

[cherryplasmids]

i can write a thesis on why prime is such an amazing show but i would like to point out three things i had issues with. this isn’t coherently written, just rambles i want to get off my chest

1. the fact that we didn’t get to see knockout mourn breakdown’s death IRKS ME. there’s barely any mention of BD after mech kidnapped and committed acts of body horror against him. even when he is mentioned, it’s always in a flippant manner. that was KO’spartner (in all ways) and we don’t see, in any way, that the death actually hurts KO.

in fact, KO should have become an autobot as a result of BD’s death/body desecration. no one gave a shit about BD, including megatron—someone KO expected to have at least a shred of worry over a loyally capable decepticon soldier. no dice—KO was demoted from prolific medic to loser lackey ( he's still fun tho! i still love him!) as the episodes go by with still no opportunity to mourn. at least with the autobots they’d have some apprehension over his defection, but OP would have understood.

imagine the miko and KO interactions if he expressed reluctant and embarrassed interest in human culture!!!!!!

HE SHOULD HAVE BEEN AN AUTOBOT EARLIER

(by association, BD should have switched sides after he realized that his comrades, except KO, left him for dead after the initial mech experiment)

(i just wish we got to see more of them together)

2. dreadwing should have been better utilized. not sure if the writer’s didn’t know what to do with his character, but megatron literally made him 2nd in command, then he would disappear for episodes at a time. when he did appear, he failed at every mission given to him. he definitely should have switched sides, too. then again, not sure what could have been done with his character as an autobot either

3. beast hunters…lasted like four episodes. branding wise, titling season 3 like that made it out to be more than it actually was. predaking as a whole was also useless to me. his entrance was grand, but the payoff was totally not worth it in the end. compared to ultra magnus who’s entrance was lackluster, ended up being a necessary addition. i didn’t even like him in the beginning, but i grew to really enjoy his character development—especially his relationship with jackie

[hypocriticalspicewrites]

White wedding au here:

It should be obvious that one of the boys (cough cough David) rails his bride while she's spread out on the alter. They just HAVE to

Oh hell yeah he does 100%. It's even better cause It's low key a 'angry-fucking' after some very unfortunate events 👀 I'm sooooo tempted to spill some spoilers for later into the fic but I gotta stay strong, sister 💪

[hanfourz]

― pretty boy | p.sh ୨ৎ

°˖➴ sungho always loved watching you do your makeup and what better time to ask him to do his than right before you had to leave for your family's annual xmas party?

second installment of the 'tis the season drabble series !!

pairing ・ sungho x gn!reader

genre ・ fluff, suggestive, established relationship

warnings ・ kissing, marking & mentions of hickeys, reader wears makeup (but so does sungho lol), lots of terms of endearment, pls lmk if i missed any!!

word count ・ 2.3k omo...

note ・ ohhh this has me so deep in the sungho feels TT everyone say thank u cherry - 🪼

wanted to include my birthday a little cuz why not hehe - 🍒

[ networks : @onedoornet ]

series m.list   |   main m.list

“sungho baby, can you come here a sec?” you hear your boyfriend’s footsteps as he approaches your bedroom, him letting out a concerned ‘hm?’ as he reaches the doorway of the bathroom. you’re currently stood in front of the mirror, his oversized tee and face mask on, frantically searching for something.

“yes love, what’s wrong?” he asks, worry at the urgency in your tone pushing his voice a little higher than normal. 

“have you seen my makeup bag? i can’t find it and i swore i left it under the…” your voice trails off as you crouch down to look under the sink for the nth time. sungho visibly relaxes now that he knows your life isn’t in danger.

“god babe, you scared me,” he lets out a soft chuckle, “hang on, i think i saw it earlier.” 

you hear his hurried steps as he walks out your room and comes back. “there you go,” he murmurs as he hands over your makeup bag. 

“omg, you’re my hero! thank you, babe,” you say relieved and give him a small peck on his cheek. 

“you’re welcome, darling,” he chuckles softly as he watches you search through your makeup bag through the mirror. despite the mask on your face, he can still see the way your brows furrow and your tongue pokes at your cheek as you dig into the depths of your unorganized makeup bag. he makes a mental note to maybe get you a bigger one at some point. 

“you look gorgeous, by the way,” sungho whispers lowly as he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. 

“thank you baby, you look very handsome as well.” you smile slightly as you lift your gaze to his in the mirror. your heart rate stutters a bit at the way he gazes at you so lovingly.

“now let me go, i need to finish my makeup!” you laughed and try to push him away. he huffs a laugh and pulls away, going to finish getting ready himself. 

once he’s done he comes back, peeking in from the doorway to your room. he pauses in his tracks as he watches you stand in front of your mirror. you’re now in your outfit, doing the finishing touches to your makeup. you must have stopped to get your clothes on when he left—you always did say you needed to remember to dress first before you did your makeup, but you somehow always forgot. he watches you as you lean forward to apply your lip combo, soft smile resting on his lips. you pause in your movements, shifting your gaze to see sungho leaned up against your doorway in his suit. you smile at him as your heart skips a couple beats. he looks amazing as he pushes away from the wall to join you. 

“you almost done, love? you look gorgeous, did i say that already?” he questions in a teasing tone, now standing behind you. you chuckle and roll your eyes slightly, capping your lipstick and turning around to face him. 

“you’re so cheesy, you know that?” you smirk as you step towards him, brushing out the wrinkles of his suit jacket. he just smiles down at you, dopey lovesick smile plastered on his face. his hands find your waist as yours rest on his shoulders, gaze locked on yours. 

“you look very handsome, mr. park,” you almost whisper like you only want him to hear despite you two being the only people in the room. you push a strand of his hair behind his ears. suddenly, an idea pops into your head as your eyes trace over his features and sungho can tell, if the little smirk on your lips is anything to go by. 

“you should let me do your makeup, prince,” you say, tacking on the nickname you know always makes him fold. 

he sighs and shakes his head but you watch the way his ears turn red slightly. “baby, we don’t have time for that,” he tries to convince you unsuccessfully as you pout up at him. he can feel his resolve crumble as you bat your long, mascara-covered lashes at him. 

“pleaseeee? it’ll be quick, i promise, sungie.” you don’t let him get off that easy, making your voice sickeningly sweet. he sighs and concedes as you giggle happily and push him to sit on the toilet seat, since his height would be a bit of a disadvantage for you.

he chuckles at your enthusiasm as you go to rustle through your makeup bag. you pull out a couple products, slotting yourself to stand in between his long legs. you place most of the items on the edge of the sink, keeping the blush and a fluffy brush in between your fingers. sungho tilts his chin up as you gather some of the pink dusty product on the brush and tap it over his cheekbones. he keeps his eyes on you the entire time, endeared by the concentrated look on your face. you pull back after you’re satisfied, placing the blush down and grabbing a nude eyeshadow palette.

“stop staring at me and close your eyes,” you say in a teasingly stern tone as you gather a very light pink shimmer on the application brush. you try to sound unfazed but sungho knows you too well, he sees the way you won’t meet his eyes and the hesitancy in your movements. you’ll never know it but deep down he secretly loves to get you flustered, finding the way you try not to react cute. 

“why? can’t I look at my beautiful lover?” he asks, before suddenly pulling you onto his lap. you let out a yelp, hands flying to grip his shoulders. he holds your waist and tucks your hair behind your ear, gaze still locked on yours. you’re shocked by the intensity you see in his eyes. 

“you look so beautiful, almost want to keep you for myself,” he murmurs into your neck as he starts to leave kisses there, lips trailing to your jawline up to your cheeks and back down again.  

“sungho…” you whimper softly, already forgetting about the limited time you both have. “kiss me…please.”

 “of course, darling.” his lips gently press against yours as his hands roam your waist. the kiss was tender at first, soft exploration filled with love and gentleness. you melted into him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. the way his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you even closer. no space left between the two of you as you all but mold into one another. all thoughts about the party you had to attend fade into the background as you become consumed by him.

the kiss deepens as sungho moans into your mouth, your world starting to become blurry. you sigh as your fingers weave through his neatly done hair, both of you too lost in one another to really care about not messing up each other’s outfits. 

the kiss was passionate yet soft, a mix of longing and yearning in your movements. you could feel your heart stutter when his lips trailed to your neck and he started sucking on the spot he knew was sensitive. you whined into him, letting out pleasured gasps as he continued to kiss at your neck and shoulder. he reveled in the way you responded to him, loving to see the effects of the pleasure he was giving you no matter how miniscule. 

finally, you pulled back, completely breathless with your saliva still connecting you, your foreheads resting against each other. sungho looked into your eyes, his expression a mix of contentment and disbelief, as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.

“wow,” he murmured, a smile breaking across his face.

“yeah,” you chuckled breathlessly, still feeling the warmth of his lips on yours. 

suddenly the loud, incessant buzzing of your phone broke your trance, your eyes widening comically as you remembered the family dinner you two were supposed to be at in approximately 30 minutes. it was a dinner your family had planned for months, a joint celebration of your birthday and christmas. your family was very serious about the holidays. 

you scrambled off of sungho’s lap, him standing and straightening out his clothes. he grumbled at the very slight bulge in his dress pants, half hard from your kissing. while he tried to calm himself, you grabbed your phone cursing as your sister’s caller ID flashed bright on your screen. you picked up, clearing your throat before saying hello. you wince as she immediately launches into scolding you for not being ready on time again. you can’t do anything but sigh and apologize because she refuses to let you get a word in. you make eye contact with sungho, who’s now fixing his hair in the mirror, and roll your eyes. he just chuckles and shakes his head, knowing how your younger sister was. once she was finally done, ending her spiel with telling you to ‘hurry your ass up before we give the dog your plate!’ you hang up. 

“she’s going to jump straight through my phone and grab me by the ear one of these days,” you sigh as you walk over to your dresser, fishing for the jewelry you wanted to wear. sungho fully laughs at that, the sound making you chuckle slightly. you hurriedly touch up your hair and makeup at your full length mirror as sungho fusses with his hair in the bathroom. 

he finishes before you once again and joins you just as you’re now fiddling with the earrings you want to wear. there’s a frustrated furrow to your brow and pout on your lips as you try to get the hook through the piercing. sungho thinks it’s adorable as he watches you struggle a bit, you so absorbed in what you’re doing you don’t even notice him approaching you. you startle as you feel his hands on your waist, head shooting up to look at him through the mirror. you lean into his touch finally done with the earrings as you turn to look at him. 

“i have something for you,” he says softly, pulling his hands away to reach into his pocket. your head tilts in confusion as he pulls out a long silver box with a bow wrapped round it. you look up at him questions in your gaze as he places the box in your hands.

“baby, what’s this? i thought we were doing presents at my parents’ house?” you inquire, bewilderment in your tone as you twist the box around watching the metallic sheen in the lighting of your bedroom. 

“we are but… i wanted this one to be special. a little birthday present” his voice drips with love you couldn’t put into words if you tried. “open it, doll.” he whispers, trying to play off his nerves. 

your heart beats wildly in your chest as you pull the top off the box, a gasp leaving your lips as you see the pretty necklace nestled in black velvet. he takes the lid from your grasp as your mouth hangs agape. the necklace is simple, a drop-shaped gemstone hanging from a dainty chain, but you can tell immediately that the gem is your birthstone. your eyes well up with tears as you remember the first gift you ever gave him was a bracelet of both of your gemstones that he refuses to take off. sungho smiles as you look up at him, cooing when he sees the glassiness in your eyes. he pulls the necklace out the box, placing it so it’s in the palm of his hand and holding it out towards you. 

“we match now, my love.” your brows furrow as he says that, gaze darting back to the necklace. it’s then you finally notice a silver plate hanging behind the gemstone with the letter S engraved into it, his gemstone a small dot next to the letter. 

“oh sungho, this is beautiful,” you say, pure adoration in your voice. you look up at him, sincerity in your gaze. “thank you, for everything. i love you so much.” the sincerity in your voice has his heart melting in his chest as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest as the two of you embrace. 

“i love you more, darling,” he murmurs into your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “can i put it on you?”

you nod with a smile as you pull away, turning around and pulling your hair out the way. you shiver as his lithe fingers graze your shoulders when he pulls the necklace round your throat, clasping it at the nape of your neck and letting his hands drop back to your shoulders. you watch with bated breath as he leans forwards and places featherlight kisses over your neck, his hands sliding down your shoulders as he does so. he trails his lips slowly over the curve of your shoulders, feeling the goosebumps that raise in his wake and the shiver you can’t control. he looks at you through the mirror, something catching his eye. he lifts his head slightly to see the very faded reddish purple splotches on your neck, evidence from his passion the night before. 

“i almost forgot about these, shame they’re barely noticeable anymore,” he says as you look in the mirror to watch him press his fingers lightly over the spots. 

“maybe you should make them noticeable again,” you whisper, his eyes flicking up to your face. he hums appreciatively, pressing his lips over the fading hickeys as you sigh and lean back into him. 

you two get lost in your own world again, too blinded by your complete adoration for the other to really care about anything else. the rest of the world fades into white noise when you’re with him and he’s with you. and the sound of your phone buzzing with notifications doesn’t even faze you as you let your pretty boy kiss you breathless.

[crsssie]

It's 2am, quite late for me to stay up on a work day, but your tim drake fics got me giggling and kicking my feet like a lovesick school girl,, can't believe your writings kick-started my love for him all over again LOL love your writing btw 🫶🏻🫶🏻 absolutely adore them hehe ♡ keep on writing girlie!

- 🍒

UWAHHH THANK YOU GIRLIE <3333 the Tim Drake fic makes me giggle n kick my legs too it's everything I've dreamed of in a fic

[pisskuna]

reread come undone and 🥴🥴

[caeca-iustitia]

Vincent has autism but their awareness of such a fact is minimal. Based on other diagnoses they’ve received, they mostly swept the idea of having autism under the rug; despite their mother having been diagnosed with it as a teenager and their sisters showing traits their entire lives.

For them, it manifests in a few ways. 

They cannot stand having anything touch the palm of their hand and constantly wear gloves to prevent unwanted contact with their skin. On top of this, Vincent has issues with certain textures and gets easily overwhelmed by fabric textures that they don’t like touching their skin but it is especially bad on their hands.

Loud environments are Hell on Vincent and they will go mostly, if not completely, nonverbal when confronted with an environment that they can’t freely escape from. They try their best to remain calm but the constant sensory overload is too much so they usually end up partially catatonic and wishing they were anywhere else but there. 

They usually pass this off as crippling social anxiety rather than looking any further into what could be causing such an extreme reaction.

For someone who acts so emotionless, Vincent is very empathetic. They are more than capable of understanding why someone may feel the way they do and, more often than not, will do anything they can to make that person feel better. They may not completely comprehend the exact root cause of such emotional upheaval but they will do what they can to listen and react appropriately.

Eye contact is a big no-no for Vincent as they find the simple act of looking into someone’s eyes overwhelming and stressful. While some may see it as rude, they simply cannot handle eye contact so will instead look to the persons brow or the apple of their cheek. If they are truly struggling then they will focus on their chin or look past the person entirely. 

They don’t intend to be rude but the constant need for eye-contact is nauseating.

Vincent struggles with their self-image and seeing themself in a photo, even if they can’t recognise their own face, is sickening. They think that they ruin any photo they stand for and will do anything to avoid being a part of the picture; up to and including taking it themself. This is something that often gets written off as them being anti-social.

The worst offender has always been burnout. Emotional, phyiscal and mental exhaustion to a degree that is borderline debilitating. They feel overwhelmingly hollow and like their body has reached its limit. They struggle to find the motivation to care for themself and spend hours just existing in a state between awareness and catatonia. Finding the energy, the motivation, to get up and continue their day is next to impossible and they get no enjoyment out of anything. 

For them stimming aligns closely, if not completely, with quirks that they developed from having schizophrenia. Things like tapping their foot against the back of their opposite heel, bouncing their leg when they’re sat down, tucking their nose into the collar of their cape, chewing on lollipop sticks/toothpicks/gum and fiddling with their guns. Almost all of these things, barring the chewing, were things they noticed they did when they were diagnosed with schizophrenia.

Vincent is unaware of all of this and hasn’t really felt the need to investigate their behaviour or the cause behind it. They’re satisfied with not knowing why they act the way they do and generally write it off as something to do with one of their other issues.

[hanfourz]

HI POOKIES i'm soso busy this week i can barely read anything here omg </3 but i loved your latests work, vamp riwoo especially... wow. happy november btw !!! i also find nnn super funny for some reason, how do you think the bonedo legal line would be like during nnn? :p

— 🐈‍⬛

🪼- oh i feel u, it's been kinda crazy lately (ᵕ—ᴗ—) thank u so much!!! im so glad u liked vamp!riwoo. as a riwoo fangs enthusiast i Had to do it. it's so funny bc cherry literally was just talking abt how she wants to do a post abt bnd doing nnn and then we saw this 😭

🍒 - im so sorry for letting this rot for so long 😭 i will try my best to explain so. it's so funny cuz i literally talked about it with ki right before we got the ask! great minds think alike☺️

warnings: SMUT [MDNI!!!], hc format, mentions of oral (f. rec), light mentions of bondage (kinda), cocky taesan & leehan lolol

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ sungho

give it a week until he falls down on his knees (quite literally). you just look so beautiful how could he NOT want to eat you out on the spot? (of course, you never wanted to admit to yourself that you badly needed it too) but knowing how obsessed he is, seeing you dressed up... you should've known the night would end with him in between your legs.

↘ rest under read more !

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ riwoo

i give it two weeks until he's way too horny and is begging you to touch him. while you refuse because you enjoy teasing him so much. he was so confident about making it through the whole month. now he's laying on the bed, tied up, waiting for you to touch him :( and how could you deny him when he whines so prettily for you?

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ jaehyun

poor guy wouldn't even last 5 seconds. :( he's so obsessed with you. he's like a victorian man seeing a woman's ankle for the first time when he sees you. doesn't matter what you're doing or how you look or how long you've been together or how often he gets to touch you. he's begging you to let him touch you, even though you both decided together to participate. you should have known neither of you were gonna last. you can't get enough of each other.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ taesan

either two seconds or he's pulling it through, no in between. you two make it like a competition to see who'll last longer. he gets needy like halfway through but he will never admit it to himself, he's so annoyingly overconfident. and he would rather die than lose to you. so he teases you until you're the one begging for him then teases you for not being able to last. like he wasn't purposely putting his hands on your tits or making you sit on his lap...

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ leehan

3 weeks until he gives in. when you tell him that you want to participate he's like "you sure you can live without my cock for a whole month?". you decide to teach his cocky attitude a lesson and you try everything to rile him up. (which really isn't difficult to do.) "you're doing that on purpose, aren't you?" what, you? never! "what do you mean? i haven't done anything." you bat your eyes at him, feigning innocence. he grabs you by your waist. "just say you want me too, and I'll give it to you" but you will not give him the satisfaction, you refuse to lose against leehan's charm. no matter how tempting it is. "i don't need anything, but it seems like you're the one who can't keep his dick inside of his pants. you just need to say that i won." is all you say and he decides he needs to fuck that smirk off your face.

[sammy-writes-sometimes]

Word Count: 185

---------

Most people, when they have fever dreams, laugh or cry.

They speak of something funny. Of their tired brain overworking, overfiring, and showing some fantastical thing of humor. Of some semblance of joy.

Or the speak of fear. Of horrors beyond the imagination that they can't think about too hard less they feel dread.

But you? You dreamt of something else.

On your floor, in a room onces your parents' and now your sibling's, you dreamt of comfort. Of warmth, of caring. Of feeling safe in a bed, one you'd always wanted.

Every time you opened your eyes, blinking away disassociation, you were reminded of the dirty clothes under you. Of the scratch of carpet not cleaned in years. Of events you had been missing from being so horrible sick.

It was all tiring. So you chose the road less traveled, the trail that led to a heavy head, but a warm bed. Something that led to comfort and family and love.

Even if momentarily, you slept back into that dream. Wrapped in blankets, safe and sound. With not a single worry in the world.

[caeca-iustitia]

How is it almost 4 AM?!

What...?

How...?

When...?

Huh?!

Shit...

I've been so obsessed with SOLDIER!Verse Vincent that I have forgotten that I require sleep lol

That and that I have to be up early-ish to take care of shit at home...

[hanfourz]

― l.rw thought [⏾]

🍒 - im probably the only dom!riwoo truther on this planet but i can not stop thinking about these pictures (he is SO hot).

warnings: fem bodied reader, (very slight) bondage

it could start by you just teasing him and (harmlessly) making fun of him being "too vanilla" and "too subby" while his friends laughed with you. none of you even notice how his brow lifts slightly at their remarks. you got yourself in trouble, babe. while he is a soft dom, he is SO annoyingly teasing. "do you really want me to bend you over and fuck you and show them how i vanilla i am, baby?" is the thought that crosses his mind as he watches you with a small smirk.

he asks the guests to leave after a while because you two have "work to do". really it's just an excuse to get you two alone. as much as he wanted to prove to them that he is not the subby bottom they think he is, he wants to keep that view only for himself. he may be short, but he WILL put you in your place. tells you to go your bedroom and take off all of your clothes, and you better be naked when he comes back or he will overstimulate the fuck out of you (quite literally). since you don't know what he is capable of, you'd rather play it safe and oblige with what he tells you to do. when he comes back, you see him holding ribbons in his hands. he crawls on top of you and you start making out. while he's fondling your breasts, he slowly uses his slender fingers on your clit. you want to touch him so badly but he takes your wrists in his hands and ties them up with the ribbon. you don't deserve to touch. that's what you get for teasing him.

[verricherri]

If you still have slots available for req I would love a little sequel to "yours officially" about like a public date at a dinner or bar or smth (sfw)💋💋

(P.s. I'm the one who requested that one!!)

Yours, Out Loud

A/N: This one’s a follow-up to “Yours, Officially” — written from an ask that absolutely demanded a proper date night 🍒 consider it a sequel, but yes, it can totally be read as a standalone if you're just here for soft, flustered Rhett. Warnings: Prepare to cut your chest open and let soft Rhett stomp all over your heart. you will not emotionally recover. you will crave more, Rhett saying things he means. Masterlist Feedback and reposts are appreciated  ☀️

It started with a knock on your door. A real one. Three short raps and a deep breath on the other side like whoever was doing it had spent the last half hour talking themselves into it.

You opened it.

There stood Rhett Abbott — thumbs hooked in his belt loops, a bouquet of wildflowers clutched in one hand like it might bite him. He looked clean, like too clean, shirt tucked in properly for once, hair doing that slightly-too-perfect swoop like he’d combed it more than once and hated himself for it.

You blinked. “Well, hey.” He nodded. “Hey.” You eyed the bouquet. “I see someone raided a garden.” He glanced down at the wild mess of daisies, dandelions, and something vaguely purple. “Amy said I needed somethin’ rustic. This count?”

You reached out, taking them from his hands. “Very rustic. Especially the dandelion with half its fluff missing.” “I was gonna swap it out,” he muttered. You smirked. “But you didn’t.” “Nope.”

He cleared his throat. Looked at the flowers. Looked at you. And then, a little too fast:

“Would you wanna go to dinner with me? Like… a proper one. In town. Just us.” You tilted your head. “Like a date-date?” He nodded. Then quickly added, “If you want.” You tapped a finger against the stems. “Well, since you brought emotional support flowers…”

His brow furrowed.

“I’m saying yes,” you laughed. “Pick me up at seven?”

The smile that broke across his face — you wished you could bottle it.

---

You got ready at your place — alone, thank God — because the way you were fussing with your hair and second-guessing every outfit would’ve sent even the most patient man running. You’d cycled through at least four different options, each one rejected for crimes like too casual, too desperate, too “oops-I’m-just-hot-and-here”, or worst of all: too obvious you’re trying to impress a man who still wears shirts with pearl snaps.

Eventually, you landed on something soft. A little flowy. Not too tight, not too loud, but enough that if someone saw you with him — with Rhett — they’d know: this wasn’t a maybe. This was real.

Meanwhile, back at the Abbott ranch, Rhett was losing a very quiet, very personal battle with his reflection.

“I swear to God, if you change shirts again, I’m takin’ the truck and leavin’ you behind,” Perry grunted as he passed by, chewing on a carrot stick like it was a cigar. “It don’t look right,” Rhett muttered, frowning at his collar in the hallway mirror. “This one’s got a wrinkle.” “You’re the only one who sees it,” Perry deadpanned. “You’ve already ironed that shirt twice.”

From down the hall, Amy’s voice rang out:

“He’s tryin’ to impress her! Let him panic!”

Cecilia peeked out from the kitchen, drying her hands on a dish towel.

“You bringing her flowers again, honey?” Rhett rubbed the back of his neck. “Already did.” She smiled, soft and sure. “Then you’re doin’ just fine.”

He finally decided on a shirt. The same damn one he started with. Changed his hat once. Then again. Then put the original one back on because apparently the second one was his “stupid hat,” according to Amy, and now he was emotionally compromised.

By the time he made it to your place, he’d practiced what he wanted to say six times in the truck. Changed the station. Turned it off. Turned it back on. Took his hat off. Put it back on. Then decided he was being ridiculous and climbed out before he could talk himself out of knocking.

He raised his fist to your door — and you opened it before he got the chance.

Your hair. Your smile. That dress.

Rhett stared. Actually stared. And then forgot how to breathe.

“You alright there, Abbott?” you teased, leaning against the doorframe like you weren’t trying to survive his flustered little half-smile. He blinked. Twice. “Yeah. I just—” He exhaled like the air had knocked him. “You look real good.” You smirked. “You say that like you’re surprised.” “I am,” he said, voice low. “Every time I look at you.” You locked your door behind you, tucking your keys in your purse. “So… was that your official ask?” He looked confused. “What?” You tilted your head. “Are we going out, or am I just admiring your truck from the porch?” Rhett flushed. “Right. Yes. I mean—” He held the passenger door open like a damn gentleman. “Can I take you out tonight?” You raised a brow. “On a real date?” He nodded. “Real as it gets.” You slid into the seat, the scent of leather and cedar filling your lungs. “Then get in before I change my mind.”

He ducked his head, that crooked grin slipping back onto his face as he shut your door and jogged around to the driver’s side.

Once he started the truck and pulled onto the road, you gave it about three seconds of quiet before letting the grin take over your face.

“You know,” you said casually, “Amy told me you changed shirts three times and nearly forgot your wallet.”

He groaned like a man who’d just been shot.

“She wasn’t even supposed to be watchin’—” “She also said you combed your hair twice. And that you threatened to fight Perry for laughing.”

Rhett muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “traitor,” then sank lower in his seat.

“Remind me to ground her.” “You can’t. She’s not yours.” “Still. I’ll find a way.”

You reached over, brushed his knuckles lightly where they gripped the gearshift.

“You nervous, cowboy?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just glanced at you with that quiet kind of intensity, the kind that always made your heart trip a little.

“Not ‘cause of you,” he said finally. “’Cause I don’t want to mess this up.”

Outside, the sky was turning sherbet gold, the quiet hum of the tires filling the space between words.

---

The diner Rhett picked wasn’t fancy — far from it — but it was the kind of place with a cracked leather booth, a jukebox in the corner that only played country from before 2001, and a waitress who knew your name before you even introduced yourself.

“You’re the one sittin’ with an Abbott tonight, huh?” she said with a wink, refilling your water without asking. “Bout time.”

Rhett flushed so deep you thought he might actually melt through the floor.

He’d originally slid into the booth opposite you, hat low, hands on the table like he was bracing for a test.

“You nervous?” you asked, propping your chin on your hand. He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Not nervous. Just… aware.” “Of what?” He hesitated. “That we’re not hiding anymore.” You smiled. “And you don’t like that?” “I didn’t say that,” he murmured, gaze lingering on your mouth a second too long.

You reached across the table and brushed your fingers over his wrist — lightly, deliberately.

He froze. Blinked. Then stood up so fast his knee hit the edge of the table.

“What are you doing?” you laughed as he rounded the booth. “Doesn’t feel right sittin’ across from you,” he muttered, sliding in beside you. “Feels like you’re too far.”

You blinked, startled by how earnest it sounded.

“So now you’re gonna sit next to me in public,” you teased, “like some kind of boyfriend or something?” Rhett turned slightly, resting one arm along the back of the booth. “Ain’t that what I am?”

You looked up at him — really looked — and caught the flicker of anxiety behind his grin. Like he still wasn’t sure if he was allowed to want this out loud.

So you nudged his leg under the table, just lightly, and said, “Took you long enough.”

The food came not long after — burgers and fries, nothing fancy — and Rhett tried to act like he wasn’t watching your every move as you drizzled ketchup in a perfect swirl.

“You do that every time?” he asked. “What?” “Make ketchup look like it belongs in a damn art gallery.” You raised a brow. “You planning to start a sketchbook of my condiment habits, or…?” He laughed under his breath, eyes soft. “I might.”

And for a while, it was easy.

The kind of easy that you didn’t realize you were missing until it settled in your bones.

You talked about little things — Amy’s obsession with ghost stories, how Perry once burned cornbread so bad the smoke alarm shorted out, and the time Royal got locked out of the house wearing nothing but a towel and a whole lot of pride.

Then it happened.

A man at the next booth leaned over, greasy baseball cap low on his brow.

“Didn’t think Rhett Abbott was the dating type,” he said, like he was trying to be funny. “Figured you’d die single and grumpy like your dad.”

You went still.

Rhett didn’t say anything. Didn’t move.

Just… clenched his jaw, fingers curling slightly at your waist where they’d been resting.

But instead of tension, something steadier came out of you.

“Well,” you said brightly, “good thing we’re not asking you to join us.”

The man blinked. Rhett… chuckled.

Just once.

Then he pressed his lips to the side of your temple.

“You handled that better than I would’ve,” he said. You grinned. “That’s why you keep me around.”

He let the kiss linger for a beat longer than necessary — not performative, not possessive. Just his way of saying he heard you. And that he wasn’t going anywhere.

---

The walk back to your place wasn’t long — ten minutes, tops — but Rhett insisted on parking the truck at the far end of Main, claiming it was “easier to get outta town that way.”

You didn’t call him out on it. Not when you both knew damn well it was just an excuse to stretch the night out longer.

The air had that post-rain coolness to it, ground still damp, the stars pricking the sky like they were strung up just for you. And Rhett — well, he kept bumping into your shoulder like his limbs forgot how to coordinate.

“You okay there, cowboy?” you teased, brushing your hand against his. He looked down, ears pink in the porchlight glow. “Yeah. Jus’—can’t believe we did it. Like, real date and all.”

You stopped walking. Turned to face him.

“Did you not want to?” His head shot up. “No—no, I did. I do. Hell, I’ve been thinking about it for weeks. Just didn’t know how to ask without messin’ it up.” “You didn’t mess it up.”

He smiled, just slightly. Then his brows pulled together, like there was still something heavy stuck behind his ribs.

“I ain’t used to this,” he admitted, voice low. “Feelin’ proud about somethin’. Wantin’ to show it off.”

You leaned into him, slow and steady, until your foreheads touched. His hands came to your waist like instinct.

“You can show me off whenever you want,” you whispered. “I’m yours. Out loud.”

He kissed you then.

Not rushed. Not uncertain.

Just sure.

Like he finally understood this was something he could have — not just want.

And when the kiss broke, he murmured it against your lips:

“You wanna do it again? Like next Friday?” Then a beat. “Or tomorrow?” You laughed, fingers curling in his jacket. “How about both?”

His grin softened, proud and a little stunned, like he still wasn’t used to this kind of happiness.

“Maybe next time,” you added, tipping your head with a smirk, “I can shout your name out loud at your next bull riding comp. Let everyone know I’m yours.”

Rhett blinked. Went bright red. Groaned into your neck.

“You’re tryin’ to kill me.” “You like it.” “Too damn much.”

[yanderedrabbles]

THE SINNERS WELCOME YOU TW: noncon and yanderes ahead

Hi! I'm val and this is where you can find everything I've written. Maybe bring protection? These boys are not nice.

Requests: closed for now

What I won't write about: pregnancy

Yandere Drabbles, Imagines & Oneshots [part two]

Part One

These are my primary masterlists. They have the most variety, with yanderes from different genres and time periods. Dirty cops, corrupt politicians, sleazy and dangerous boyfriends. Pirates, princes and poets too. Is your yandere sick, twisted and hopelessly in love? This is where you'll find them.

Yandere Fairytales

Dark and sinful, these stories are from a time long ago. When the gods still walked the earth and when monsters wore the skin of men and when a bride could still be built out of wishes and blood. In a time and place far, far away...

Yandere Movie Week

A fun side project where we watch and review seven yandere movies! What can you expect? Popcorn (obviously) but also in-depth reviews, breakdowns of yandere tropes in cinema, and short fics inspired by the movies. Are you ready for plenty of psycho men, shirtless shower scenes, and constant torment? If so, get your snacks ready, bring out your favourite dubiously legal pirating website and let Yandere Movie Week begin!

Yandere Cyberpunk Fairytales

A futuristic retelling of all the classic bed time stories. The world you know spans the stars. Cities soaked in neon and tropical rain. Neo Direwolves and cybernetic implants. Drug lords and oligarchs. But some stories will always repeat themselves.

Misery - A Yandere Short Story

Based on Misery by Stephen King [Currently ongoing] Stuck in the mountains, you foolishly decide to drive through a blizzard. The man that drags you from your wrecked car brings you to his cabin and patches you up. But as the snow piles up outside, you start to suspect that your rescuer's intentions may be far from pure.

Art & Doodles

Want a masterpiece of yandere art? Look no further!

You can also check out my moodboards, writing advice, blog recs and upcoming works.

Want to know if you missed any updates? Check out my monthly writing wrapped.

Current Anons: 🍪, 🐰, ♥️, 🐧, 🧷, 📌, 📮, ⚙ 🤖, 🍯, 🦚, 💵, ⭐, 💗, 🌙, 🐳, 💣 ,🌷, 🪩 voidic yapping anon, 🌸, 🌊, 🐉, 🎀, 🍒, 🚦, 🪷, anglingforlevels, 🥀, 🪐,☀️, 🕺, ✨🐾

[demie90s]

Written in Ink, Not If

꒰ 🍒 ꒱ PAIGE BUECKERS X READER ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

MASTERLIST MORE

⭑ pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader (calm, confident!fem!reader)

⭑ summary: Before every game, you write Paige’s stat predictions on your forearm in black Sharpie. Points. Rebounds. Assists. Quiet ritual—until she notices. What starts as a smirk-worthy superstition turns into something softer, heavier, and harder to ignore. Especially when you’re never wrong.

⭑ genre: Slow-burn, mutual pining, soft superstition, silent love

⭑ warnings: Flirty tension, quiet obsession, visible devotion

⭑ word count: ~ 0.7k

You don’t tell anyone what the numbers mean.

You never have.

You sit on the same bench in the same corner of the locker room every game day—back leaned against cold tile, headphones resting around your neck, warm-up hoodie unzipped halfway. Calm. Focused. A Sharpie in your hand, cap already off.

Everyone else is still loud—someone blasting music, someone else walking around with one sock on. You’re quiet. Legs stretched out. Eyes down.

And on your forearm, you write it:

24 pts

6 ast

3 reb

#5

Paige Bueckers.

You always save her for last. You don’t write your own numbers. Never have. No superstition. No show. Just hers.

Sometimes it’s higher. Sometimes lower. But it’s never wrong.

She doesn’t know. Except… she probably does.

⸻

The first time she caught you was back in January. You’d finished writing just as she came around the corner, fixing her bun, mouth full of whatever gummy candy she lived on pre-game.

She stopped. Didn’t say anything. Just stared for a second too long at your arm.

You’d pulled your sleeve down without blinking. Not embarrassed. Just private. She didn’t bring it up. And you never stopped.

⸻

Now it’s March.

You’re deep into the season. The rhythm is muscle memory now.

You write her stats before every game. Left forearm, right under the crease. The team thinks you’re journaling plays. One of the trainers thought it was your own goals.

But you know what it is. It’s how you say “I believe in you” without saying anything. It’s how you love her from the seat beside hers. You’re halfway through today’s line when someone sits beside you. Too close to be casual.

You glance over. Paige.

Her warmup hoodie’s off. Braided hair tucked into a loose bun. She’s leaned forward, elbows on knees, eyes on your arm.

“Are you writing about me again?” she asks, soft. You pause.

“You want me to stop?”

She shakes her head once. “No. I want to know what you wrote.”

You let the Sharpie hover in the air a second longer. Then you finish it:

22 pts

7 ast

2 reb

#5

You cap the marker. Stretch your wrist.

Her eyes flicker over it slowly. Like she’s reading a message written in another language but already memorized the translation.

She swallows.

“Why do you do that?”

You glance at her.

“Because you live up to it.”

⸻

Pregame warmups are hot under the lights. You move like nothing happened. She misses two shots in a row, eyes on the rim but brain somewhere else.

You catch her staring at your arm again mid-shootaround.

She doesn’t stop.

⸻

Second Half. 4 Minutes Left.

Paige has 21 points. She’s at the line.

You watch from the key.

She glances at you before she takes the shot. Swish. Ties it up.

Timeout. Coach calls the huddle. You sit beside her. She’s breathing heavy, towel over her knees. Her hand brushes your thigh and stays there.

No one says a word.

⸻

Postgame Locker Room

You’re back in the same corner. Wiped down. Clean hoodie on. Hair damp.

She walks up with her duffle slung over her shoulder. She squats beside you, balancing herself with one hand on your bench.

You look up. She’s already staring.

“I hit 23.”

You nod. “I was one off.”

“You’re never off.”

Silence.

She looks at your arm again. “Can I write something next time?”

You raise an eyebrow. “What would you write?”

She leans in closer, so close you smell her citrus sweat, the sugar from her drink, the shampoo she stole from your locker.

She says, “Ask me before next game. I’ll show you.”

She walks out.

You don’t move. You just stare at your arm.

And think: maybe next time, you’ll write “mine”