#we could use a little light and a little love :')))))

[preiyers]

♱ TAKE A CHANCE — LUIGI MANGIONE X READER

SUMMARY: your friend group takes a trip to the beach during summer break and one night, luigi just takes the chance to tell you how he feels.

WARNINGS: friends to lovers, making out, humping in the hot tub

A/N: i'll be using random names for their friends and a part of this is inspired by a scene in to all the boys i've loved before and this post

show a little loving, shine a little light on me

you and your friends have been staying at the beach for almost a week now. you'd be leaving in two days.

the six of you were currently finishing dinner and then planning on walking around the beach and getting ice cream, but things changed when the group insisted on resting and staying in the hotel instead.

as the group walked back, luigi was getting teased by the guys as you walked with the girls of the group, looking around the beach and talking.

"come on man, just take the chance while we're still here and tell her how you feel." marcus tells him and he just shrugs.

"i don't know, it might change things." luigi says with a hand rubbing the back of his neck. he was interested in you the moment you asked him for help on a computation — the way your eyes lit up when he said he'd help you and how happy you got when he gave you an example and you got it right.

he still remembered.

little did he know, the girls were also giving you the same talk.

"you never know y/n, it could be a good type of change!" they all agreed as one of the girls nudged you.

as you guys walked, you came across a souvenir shop. you stayed outside, looking up at the sky as the wind blew your hair. marcus gives luigi a look to hang back and stay with you which he was already going to do.

“hey,” luigi said from behind, startling you a bit which makes you jump. “i didn’t mean to scare you.” you both chuckle.

it was quiet between you two for a moment. you didn’t know what to say, how to start the conversation and so did he. the sound of the waves crashing and the rustling of leaves filled your ears.

until he spoke again. “are you okay?” he turns his head to look at you, inching a bit closer.

you could see from your peripheral vision that he was looking at you so you turned to completely face him. you just smile in response and nod.

“just thinking about how we have to go back to uni after all this,” you sighed, looking back up at the sky and crossing your arms. “i don’t know, i’m gonna miss it,” you glance back at him and he was still looking at you. the look he was giving you was something you’ve never seen before, it was unreadable but it made you feel something at the pit of your stomach. “i’m gonna miss everything.”

it felt like there was a magnet pulling the two of you closer and closer or if the tiredness was just getting to you and you were imagining things.

“i get that, nights where we’d just spend having fun together and not stressing over assignments,” he said softly, placing an arm on your shoulder, pulling you even closer. “i wish we could stay here forever.” he looks down at you and your heads are closer now.

tracy, one of your friends looked out for you guys and told your friends about it which got them to all smile at the pair of you, giving each other knowing looks. “it’s so happening,” marcus mouthed at the group.

you smile up at him, you notice he’s looking between your eyes and your lips. your stomach churns and immediately break away, afraid of what could possibly happen and your friends could be watching.

“we… we should head back, they’re probably looking for us.” you force out a laugh, rubbing your hand on your forearm.

after the group was done checking out the souvenir shop, all of you went back to the hotel. you and luigi not speaking a word at all. they all noticed and tried to get one of you two to talk but just got smiles from the two of you.

“i’m gonna stay in the jacuzzi for a while, you guys can go.” luigi tells the group once you’ve reached the hotel.

his gaze finds you, but your head was down, not wanting to look into his eyes. you could feel the awkwardness in the group and some of your friends glancing between you and luigi.

he sighs and parts ways with the group.

no one spoke during the elevator ride and when you guys were walking to your rooms. until tracy reached for your arm. “what happened?” she pulled you back from entering your room.

you shrug, “i don’t know. we were talking, it was good and then i felt like something was going to happen,” you looked down, playing with your fingers. “i got scared.”

she places a hand on your shoulder as a way to comfort you. “aw hun, it’s alright.“ she pulls you into a hug and then continues speaking. “but you do know, that boy does like you, and i don’t know exactly when it started, but i know he’s liked you for a while now.” the two of you pull away and she couldn’t read the expression on your face.

“i should go to him,” she nods at you. “you think he’s still there” you ask and she instantly nods, removing her hands from your body.

“yes go right now, you got this!” she says, gently pushing you to leave.

you rush to the elevator, press the button quickly, looking up which elevator is closest to your floor level. once an elevator opened, you immediately went in and pressed the button to the floor. you mentally prepared yourself for what you’d say to him.

luigi, i like you. no. that was too forward. luigi, remember when we-

the elevator doors open which cuts your inner monologue off. you focused on your breathing as you walked to the area where the pool and jacuzzi were.

and there he was. his arms up on the tub’s rim, back facing you. as you walked, it was like your heart was gonna beat out of your chest any moment.

“hey,” you said softly, him now being the one startled.

he turns his neck to look at your figure, going closer to the tub.

“hi.” he responds with a small smile on his face.

you walk to where the ladder was, climbing and sitting on the edge of the tub, taking off your shorts to put your legs in.

“i’m surprised you’re here,” he says, looking down at the pool then up at you. “thought i made you upset or something.”

you look away as he said the last part, watching the bubbles come up.

“no i’m okay. why would i be upset at you?” you looked up, his eyes still avoiding you which makes you just want to tell him how you felt already.

he bites his lip, then turns his head to face you. you can’t seem to read the look on his face, the same as earlier’s. he just shrugs. “i don’t know y/n, i just thought,” he shakes his head and closes his eyes.

and you already knew.

you took your tank top off and got in the tub completely now. the two of you sat at opposite sides of the hot tub.

“do you remember how we first met?” he asks you, opening his eyes to look at you.

you nod, waiting for him to continue.

“you asked me for help on the chemistry computation and you were so happy when i said yes,”

“and you even offered to tutor me for free,” you smile at the memory. “it was freshman year; i knew no one in class cause i enrolled late and everyone seemed to like you for some reason.” you teased, and he shakes his head with a smile on his face.

“yeah, well, what can i say, i’m a nice dude.” he joked, which made you roll your eyes and scoff jokingly. “uh, well, on that same day, i told marcus you were really pretty.” he avoided your eyes once again, and you just blinked at him.

“since then, i’ve liked you. i liked you when we were partnered up for projects, i liked you even when you made comments about my frat, i liked you when you’d give me massages when i’d get back pains, liked you even when you dated your ex and cried a whole week over the break-up,” he listed down which made you blush. it felt like he could go on and on the whole night with the list.

your gaze softened as he smiled at you.

“what i’m trying to say is, it’s always been you.” his breath hitches in his throat, the weight on his shoulders now gone after telling you what he truly felt.

the two of you looked at each other for a moment before you moved to where he was seated until you were in between his legs. the tension between the two of you could be cut by a knife. you take a breath before speaking up.

“i like you too lu.” you place a hand on his cheek and carress it. he smiles at you before grabbing your leg and wrapping it around his torso, now you were face to face with each other. the light from the pool, shining on your faces.

“there’s no one like you, y/n.” he whispers before crashing his lips onto yours.

the kiss started off slow and steady, his hands slowly moving up from your legs to your waist while you wrapped an arm around his shoulders, trying to get him closer to your body if that was even possible at your current position.

your lips were moving in sync, tilting your head a bit as you start to feel his tongue trying to slip in. once he does, he glides one of his hands to your ass, squeezing it a bit before placing it on top of his straining bulge.

he moves your hips as his tongue explores your mouth. you moan into the kiss, fingers finding its way to his curly hair and tugging on it softly.

never would you have expected this to happen during your trip, but at the same time, this is all you've wanted.

he's the first to pull away, leaning his head on your forehead, still keeping your bodies close to each other. the both of you try to catch your breath.

you giggle a little as you place your hands on each side of his face, caressing his cheeks before placing pecks on his moles and then his lips.

"come on, let's continue this in my room."

lmk if u wanna be added to the taglist!!

[the-fab-fox]

This is so true. I recently saw a recipe for a really healthy meal on a recipe blog. I clicked the author's name and found my way to their actual domained website. In their about, I found the email. I have emailed them asking if there was a way to do the recipe but in a crockpot due to the pretty unsafe environment I live in—due to the skuzzy way my roommate/Subletter acts, I don't feel safe using the kitchen. I have not received an answer but from my experience sending out emails to people one would not generally consider, I know one of two things will happen. They will simply not respond (that is to say ignore or disregard my email) or they will answer and let me know if it can be done or let me know they don't have the time or energy to offer that solution. And these two options aren't bad at all. There's no consequence.

So even if they *don't* answer, what's the problem with asking when the worst outcome is simply no answer. You're literally losing nothing no matter the outcome, and more times than you think you're gaining something.

A few more examples on this:

I'm very much a networker. I am a people person and really good at striking up random conversations with people. Been that way my whole life. I just love interacting and helping people. (I'm a customer service professional of 20 years if that says anything).

I also am pretty intermediate with computers and very good at writing resumes and cover letters for job resumes and things like that. A lot of that comes from the fact that when I was younger, if I wanted something that could only come from a specific person/company/entity/etc, I would search and research until I found the contact needed.

Sometimes I'd be pleasantly surprised, sometimes not. But I never lost anything by trying.

A few times I was pleasantly surprised:

I was/am really into Criminal Minds as a TV show. Got into it in my 20s. It's become a comfort show (as weird as that is for a show about a fictionalized Behavioral Analysis Unit in the FBI). I was thinking... What would it take to be a BAU agent. It's probably nothing like the show so what's it like really. So I went on USAjobs.gov to look into it. Found contact for FBI. Emailed with a well edited and professional email (yes, this is absolutely important if you want to be taken seriously—if anyone would like me to draft up an example of what that could look like in a specific scenario, I'm happy to help!) as well as I could at the age I was at (basically, write it as well written and professional as you know how at where you're at now—don't try to "sound" professional and use big words. Just write as you but more formal). Lo and behold, I got my answer and it was quite thorough and they even warned me that the team as is seen on the show is very over glorified and the BAU mostly consults from afar and very rarely goes into the field. Lol. But you still have to pass the entrance exams which include physical.

2nd time, around the same time. I was a member of a Matthew Gray Gubler (Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds) fan blog on Live journal. (Really aging yourself, here, Finley 🤣) Anyway. There was a movie we heard of that MGG would be in but no one knew if it was true or really happening or if the project was still in the works or had been stalled. I did a Google search, found the movies official page, found a contact email or form. I was consise in my subject line and consise in my email (my thinking was entertainment people are gonna be hella busy so put my inquiry in as little but still respectful and professional words as possible. I stated who I was, my experience leading to my question (in this case I said something along the lines of 'my name is Finley Beckett and I'm a member of a Mattew Gray Gubler fan blog. The group of us have been looking forward to the movie that if coming out but we haven't heard anything about it or whether it's still happening or not. I was hoping that you might be able to shine some light on this. Also, due to the questionable relience of the internet these days, would it be at all possible to send some kind of proof that you are indeed the people behind the movie. I won't share with the group, of course, but that way I can with 100% confidence, inform them of your response). And two or so days later I got an email from the director of the movie himself (and keep in mind this was a lower budget film and pretty sure straight to DVD so obviously this would likely not work with someone like say George Lucas or Christopher Nolan or Stephen Spielberg) emailed me back and gave me not only what has been happening as far as movie production but as well as a few production stills that included MGG within them.

I've gotten to correspond with two of my favorite novelists due to finding their websites and through those, their contacts. (Business inquiry emails count as contacts). And one of them, probably my favorite author of all time (Tamora Pierce) even looked over some of my writing at the time and gave me some really great feedback. To this day I cherish this moment even if I've lost the email to time.

Ultimately, the biggest advice I can give on this sort of thing is best summed up in this quote:

"You miss one hundred percent of the shots you don't take. Even though there is only a 1-5% probably of scoring."

— Wayne Gretzky (not Michael Scott 🤣)

And I left in the second part because it confirms what I've said. Like yes, there's only a 1-5% chance of getting something out of reaching out, especially in this day and age.

That said, if you never try, that percentage stays at 0%. Full stop.

You're already at 0%, so it would make more sense if you tried because even if you fail, you're already at 0% so you've literally got nothing to lose, right?

IDK if any of this will help but I wanted to try just the same. (See what I did there? 😉)

[azrielbrainrot]

The Sweetest Dream

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Warnings: pure fluff, not proofread

Word Count: 0,9K

Notes: Writing little drabbles to help with writer's block. This is prompt #15 on this list.

Everyone in the house is asleep as you sit by the fireplace, sipping your tea, lost in visions of hazel eyes and gentle smiles, the same ones that wouldn't let sleep find you tonight.

“Can't sleep either?”

The sound makes you jump on the sofa, too distracted to realize someone had walked into the sitting room. Your heart calms as soon as you turn to find Azriel standing close to the doorway, cringing softly when you notice the guilty look in his eyes. You shouldn't have expected anything else from the Spymaster, walking around silently out of habit.

“I didn't mean to scare you,” he murmurs, hiding his hands behind his back and bringing his wings close to his body. Trying to make himself look smaller perhaps? As if that was possible.

“You didn't, Az,” you rush to assure him, “I just didn't expect anyone else to still be awake at this hour.”

Azriel hums and walks closer to you, the faint light coming from the fireplace making him look even more ethereal than usual as it hits his carved body so beautifully. Warmth spreads to your cheeks as his shadows give way and you notice he was only wearing loose pajama pants, it seems he really had been trying to sleep before coming downstairs. The thought makes you tug at the hem of your nightgown, remembering you were in the same position as him.

“You didn't answer me,” he speaks up again as he takes a seat next to you on the sofa.

“Right,” you clear your throat, pushing away any impertinent thoughts. “I can't seem to fall asleep, no.”

“Did something happen?”

His concern for you is exceedingly sweet, truly heartwarming, and even though it's something any of your friends would show, you can't help the murmur in your chest as it comes from him. The fact that his hushed voice sounds like warm honey in the quiet room not helping your situation at all.

You shake your head, turning your body to face him, leg propped on the sofa as the empty teacup in your hands disappears at the house's command. He looked impossibly handsome with his dark messy hair and his half-lidded eyes trained on you.

“Just have too much on my mind, that's all.”

“Alright,” he whispers, blinking slowly down at you, “but you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“Of course, Az. I promise it's nothing bad.” He nods, eyes never straying from yours as silence falls between you once again. “Why can't you sleep?”

“I guess I'm just not tired,” he shrugs.

You know better than to pry, but you also know of the nightmares that often plague his dreams, and of the insomnia that won't allow him to get a good rest. Your fingers twitch, wanting to reach out to hold his hand, settling on biting your lip instead, your eyes darting back to the fireplace.

Ever since realizing your feelings for Azriel weren't exactly platonic anymore, you didn't really know how to act around him, entirely too aware of every movement and word, and what they could mean. It also didn't help that he seemed different with you as well, it made your heart get too many ideas.

“The sun is almost rising in the sky. We should probably give up on getting enough sleep,” he says, getting up from the sofa and coming to stand in front of you, holding out a hand towards you, one you don't hesitate in taking, letting him pull you up to your feet. “I know a good place to see the sunrise. Why don't I take us there instead?”

A smile spreads across your face as you accept his invitation with a nod, a smile of his own mirroring yours. Cauldron, how could you not fall in love with him? It seems more impossible to you that no one else was madly in love with the shadowsinger.

His hands fall on your waist unexpectedly, your eyes widening in surprise. “I'll fly us there,” he explains quickly, easily lifting you up into his arms, making you wrap yours around his neck. You've flown with him countless times, but now you could feel his body moving towards the window far too well, considering the lack of clothes between you.

“Azriel,” you call out his name just as he reaches the window, the way his eyes fall on your face taking your breath away for a moment. “Maybe we should get our robes or something before leaving.”

“No one will see us,” he assures, his shadows climbing up your bodies as if confirming their singer's words. “Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

“If you don't feel comfortable with me-”

“I do, Azriel,” you murmur, tightening your hold on him, “Of course I do.”

“Alright,” he whispers, pulling you closer to him as the smile returns to his lips.

“Alright.”

Your lips were only a breath away from each other, and it seems he also realized this as his hazel eyes travel down to watch your mouth, the desire that briefly flashes through his eyes taking your breath away before he recovers, opening the window and letting the chilly early morning air kiss your exposed skin instead.

“We should hurry,” he says with a smile, watching the way you blink up at him. “We don't want to miss the sunrise.”

It seems your silly crush isn't as silly or one sided as you thought.

[kiwriteswords]

Finer Things [Aaron Hotchner x High-Maintenance!Reader]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 6k|| AN: Here we are! This took a little longer than expected, but I think I like how this one turned out!

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, canon-typical themes, high-maintenance reader, female reader, progression of relationship, simp!Hotch, feminine reader, Jack exists but is only briefly mentioned, BAU reader, materialistic reader, Garcia the helpful friend, flirty banter, mild language

Summary: You're a stylish...arguably high-maintenance BAU agent who unexpectedly falls for your straightforward and grounded partner, Aaron Hotchner. As you both tackle cases and life’s surprises, you learn to blend your love for the finer things with his practical approach, discovering a deep and enduring connection.

Hotch’s office door clicked softly as you knocked, barely audible over the hum of the precinct around you. The frame filled almost instantly with your form—pristine as always, from your flawlessly styled hair down to the heels that added an effortless grace to your every step.

“Got a minute?” you asked, your voice as smooth and composed as the latte you held in one hand, the steam still curling lazily up from the cup.

Hotch stepped aside, allowing you entrance. “Of course,” he said, though he knew his afternoon was already crammed with meetings and reports. For you, though, he made time—something the rest of the team had noticed and often teased him about. But what could he say? Aaron Hotchner, stoic and steadfast, had indeed developed a soft spot for you.

As you settled into the chair across from his desk, Hotch couldn’t help but admire the meticulous way you organized your space on the table. Your designer bag was set precisely to the right, not a strap out of place. He often wondered how someone so particular could thrive in the chaotic unpredictability of the BAU.

“So, what did you think of the profile?” you began, breaking into his thoughts. Your eyes were bright, lively—a stark contrast to his own, which often carried the weight of the job.

“It’s thorough. You have a knack for getting into the unsub’s head,” Hotch replied, his voice firm yet carrying a hint of warmth reserved mostly for you.

Your smile widened, pleased. “I do try,” you quipped, stirring your latte leisurely. “But I think it could use a bit more… je ne sais quoi, don’t you think?”

Hotch raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “And what would you suggest?”

“Well,” you leaned forward, the light catching your earrings just so. “If I were him, I’d be more careful about where I left my clues. Too sloppy. Maybe he needs a lesson in organization from me.”

Hotch chuckled, the sound more natural than he intended. “I think he’d be horrified at the idea.”

“Good,” you grinned, sitting back with satisfaction. “Then he’d know how I feel about unorganized data.”

Moving to the round table, the rest of the team began to filter into the office for the briefing, and Morgan threw a teasing glance your way. “Looks like Hotch is getting his daily dose of high maintenance,” he commented, a playful smirk on his face.

Prentiss elbowed him lightly, smiling in your direction. “Leave them alone. If anyone can get Hotch to lighten up, it’s her.”

Hotch cleared his throat, signaling the start of the briefing, but he couldn’t deny the truth in their observations. You brought a lightness to his often too-heavy life, a splash of color to the monochrome routine.

As the meeting progressed, your contributions were not just insightful but infused with a vibrancy that lifted the somber mood typical of these sessions. Each time you spoke, Hotch found his attention drawn not just to your words but to the way you expressed them—with a confidence and a flair that was uniquely yours. When you directed a comment towards him, accompanied by a playful raise of your eyebrows, there was an underlying challenge there, as if you were coaxing him out from behind his well-constructed barriers.

Your laughter, light and unguarded, filled the room at one point when you poked fun at the unsub’s choice of hideouts, suggesting even you could find a better hiding place during your shopping trips. The team chuckled, and even Hotch’s lips twitched into a smile—your cheer infectious, your presence undeniably compelling.

As the team began to disperse, you lingered over your notes, your meticulous nature evident as you aligned your papers and recapped your pens with a precision that spoke of a deeper need for order—a trait Hotch could appreciate, perhaps because it mirrored his own.

Hotch watched you, the way the light caught the highlights in your hair and the meticulous care you took with even the smallest task. He remained in his seat, an internal debate raging within him. He was the Unit Chief, always in control, always composed. But around you, those walls he meticulously maintained seemed less formidable, more permeable.

Finally, he stood, his decision made, propelled by a force he hadn’t fully acknowledged until now. Approaching you, he noted the slight surprise in your movements as you looked up. His voice, when he spoke, was steady, but there was an undercurrent of something more, something deeper.

“Dinner tonight?” he asked, the invitation hanging between them, heavier than the casual manner he attempted to portray.

You paused, a pen still in your hand, and met his gaze. The flicker of surprise was quickly replaced by a slow-spreading smile that warmed your eyes. “Trying to keep up with my high standards, Hotch?” you teased, the challenge back in your voice, but this time it was laced with an unmistakable warmth.

“I think I’m ready to try,” Hotch replied, his voice low, honest. The corners of his mouth turned up in a rare, genuine smile that seemed to reach his eyes, softening the usual hardness there.

“Then it’s a date,” you declared, your voice light but carrying a weight that filled the room with a promise of something new, something thrilling.

As you gathered your belongings and left, your heels clicking assertively against the floor, Hotch watched you go, a sense of anticipation building within him. It was a feeling foreign yet exhilarating, stirring something within him that had lain dormant.

He realized then, as the distance grew between you, that what the team jokingly called his ‘weakness’ was perhaps his most profound revelation. In you, Aaron Hotchner found not just a challenge but a vibrant counterpart who could match his steps in life’s intricate dance. With you, the future seemed less daunting, more vivid—colored by the finer things, in every possible way.

Since that first dinner, a subtle shift had occurred in the dynamics between Hotch and you. What started as a casual outing evolved into a series of clandestine meetings, each encounter deepening the bond that was swiftly becoming an integral part of his daily life. The secrecy was necessary—not just for the sake of professionalism within the team but to preserve the unique world that had begun to flourish between the two of you.

Hotch found himself anticipating your texts, which often popped up on his phone with playful emojis and witty remarks about everything from case files to the peculiar habits of their local barista. You managed to make even the mundane seem amusing, and Hotch, ever the stoic leader, found his day brightening with each notification.

One evening, as Hotch returned home from a particularly grueling case, he found a small package at his doorstep. Inside was a high-end espresso machine—a gift from you, complete with a note: "For your home office, so you can enjoy a proper latte without braving the outside world. Think of me when you use it." It was both a luxurious gesture and so quintessentially you, blending high maintenance with thoughtful consideration.

Hotch couldn’t help but smile as he set up the machine in his kitchen. It wasn’t something he would have ever purchased for himself, but now, brewing a cup in the quiet of the morning, he found a new appreciation for the ritual. It reminded him of you—how you’d insist on the perfect temperature, the ideal foam-to-espresso ratio, details he’d once overlooked but now found endearing.

At work, these small infiltrations into his life were becoming more apparent. You had taken to adjusting the small things around him, straightening the papers on his desk, sometimes replacing his usual stark office supplies with items that had a bit more personality—a stapler in polished chrome, sleek and efficient like the espresso machine, or pens that wrote so smoothly he found excuses to handwrite notes he would typically type.

Hotch had to admit, albeit reluctantly, that your influence was a welcome one. It was as if you were slowly coloring in parts of his world that he hadn’t even realized were so monochrome. And when you both sat down at the round table, reviewing case files together, the subtle touches—the way your knee would gently brush against his, or how you’d share a quick, knowing look over a shared inside joke—added layers to their days that Hotch hadn’t anticipated but found he no longer wanted to go without.

One afternoon, caught in a rare moment of downtime, Hotch found himself at the local shopping center, standing before a display of designer ties. He remembered you commenting on how a splash of color could brighten his usual ensemble of dark suits and somber expressions. With a critical eye, he selected one that was a soft shade--something that would match your eyes, he thought, a private acknowledgment of the space you were coming to occupy in his life.

That evening, when he wore the tie, the team didn’t miss the change. “Look at Hotch, finally taking some fashion tips from the best,” Morgan teased, nudging you as you both arrived for the briefing.

You shot Hotch a playful wink, and he responded with a slight nod, a silent conversation passing between them. Yes, you were changing him, but perhaps, Hotch considered as he adjusted the new tie subtly, this change was not just inevitable but necessary.

For Aaron Hotchner, known for his rigor and restraint, the gentle invasion of your high-maintenance habits into his disciplined life was less a disruption and more a revelation. Each new preference, each shared secret, wove a richer tapestry into his days. And as he looked across the table at you, he realized with a clarity that surprised him, that these threads, once so foreign, were now essential to the fabric of his life.

The rarity of a day off was not something Hotch took lightly, especially with Jack away on a Boy Scout trip. He had considered a quiet day at home, perhaps catching up on some reading or simply enjoying the peace. However, as he was contemplating his solitary plans, you texted him about your own plans for the day—getting your nails done, a routine you indulged in every few weeks.

"I’m off to maintain my high standards," your message read, accompanied by a laughing emoji. "Care to join me for a change of scenery?"

The invitation was unexpected. The thought of spending his day off in a nail salon was not something Hotch would have ever considered before meeting you. Yet, the idea of accompanying you, of sharing in something that was a part of your routine, held an appeal he couldn’t deny.

"Sure, why not?" Hotch texted back, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he imagined your reaction.

At the salon, you greeted him with a bright smile and a quick peck on the cheek. "Never thought I’d see the day Aaron Hotchner steps into a nail salon willingly," you teased, leading him inside.

The salon was a buzz of activity, a stark contrast to the usual seriousness of his work environment. You introduced him to your nail technician, a friendly woman named Lisa who greeted him with a warmth that seemed to radiate throughout the room.

As Lisa started on your nails, you chatted animatedly about the colors and designs. Hotch found himself pulled into a conversation about the merits of various shades—a discussion he never thought he’d have, yet here he was, weighing in on whether 'Midnight Blue' was a better choice than 'Stormy Grey'.

"You know, you could get something done too. A manicure perhaps? It’s quite relaxing," you suggested, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

Hotch raised an eyebrow, considering it. "What would the team think if I showed up with polished nails?"

"They’d think you’re embracing the finer things in life," you replied with a laugh. "But maybe just a clear coat. We wouldn’t want to give Morgan too much ammunition."

Surprisingly, Hotch agreed. As Lisa began to work on his nails, he found the experience unexpectedly soothing. The gentle handling, the focus on something so trivial yet intimate, was a stark departure from his day-to-day life.

"So, how does it feel to be pampered?" you asked, watching him with an amused expression.

"Strangely relaxing," Hotch admitted. "I can see the appeal."

As Lisa finished, you both sat under the nail dryers. Hotch looked over at you, taking in the relaxed ease of your posture, and the genuine smile on your face. It was these moments, he realized, that he cherished deeply—the simple pleasures shared, the barriers between professional and personal blurring into something beautifully ordinary.

"You know, I’m glad you invited me," Hotch said, his voice soft amid the hum of the salon. "It’s nice, sharing this part of your world."

You reached over, your hand finding his. "I’m glad you’re here, Aaron. It means more than you know."

As they left the salon, Hotch felt a lightness he hadn’t experienced in a long time. The day had been uneventful by most standards, yet for him, it was a precious insight into the everyday joys of the person who had unexpectedly become his closest confidant.

The team's discovery of his relationship with you was as inevitable as it was unintended. It began one morning when Garcia, ever observant, noticed the faintest of smiles on Hotch’s lips as he read a text from you. It was nothing overt, just the subtle lift of his mood, but it was enough to pique her interest.

“Spill it, Hotch. You’ve been smiling more these days,” Garcia prodded as they gathered in the briefing room, her tone teasing but her eyes sharp with curiosity.

Hotch, caught slightly off-guard, managed to maintain his composure. “It’s just been a good morning,” he replied smoothly, hoping his nonchalance would deflect further inquiry.

Garcia, however, was not so easily dissuaded. “Uh huh,” she hummed, giving him a knowing look but dropping the subject in the presence of the rest of the team.

The next clue came unintentionally from you during a case briefing. You were discussing a particularly challenging aspect of the case when you casually mentioned a small detail—a detail that Hotch had shared with you in confidence during one of your dinners together.

As you spoke, Reid’s head tilted slightly, his brow furrowing in that characteristic way when he was putting pieces together. “That’s an interesting observation,” he remarked, glancing between Hotch and you. “Not many would’ve caught that.”

Hotch met Reid’s gaze, a silent acknowledgment passing between them. Reid’s expression softened into a subtle smile, and he nodded slightly, turning his attention back to the files in front of him.

Morgan and JJ were the next to catch on. It happened in the field, during a tense moment when you instinctively reached for Hotch’s hand. It was a brief touch, meant to be reassuring, but Morgan and JJ caught the action from the corner of their eye.

Later, as they regrouped at the SUV, Morgan clapped Hotch on the shoulder. “You know you can tell us, right? We’re family here,” he said in a low voice, his look pointed but friendly.

Hotch simply nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “I know, Derek,” he said, grateful for the support he knew they would offer.

Prentiss figured it out during a late-night coffee run when she saw you both at a small cafe, your heads close together, laughing softly over shared stories. She didn’t approach, respecting your privacy, but the next day, her smile was a bit wider when she greeted you both.

“It’s good to see you happy, Hotch,” she said quietly as she passed by his office, her words meant only for him.

By the time Rossi found out, it seemed that most of the team had already accepted the new dynamic with characteristic adaptability. Rossi, ever the father figure, simply raised his glass to Hotch during their next team dinner, a silent toast that spoke volumes.

“You’ve got a good thing, Aaron. Don’t let the job get in the way,” Rossi advised later, when they were alone, his voice low and earnest.

Hotch appreciated the wisdom; knowing the balance between personal happiness and professional duty was a fine line to walk.

As the team gradually discovered the relationship, what surprised Hotch most was not the fact that they found out, but the ease with which they accepted it. Their teasing was gentle, their support unwavering, and in their acceptance, Hotch found not just confirmation of his feelings for you but also a deeper appreciation for the team he considered his second family.

In this newfound openness, Hotch realized that his relationship with you did not weaken his leadership; rather, it enriched the very fabric of his life, both at work and beyond. With each passing day, as you both navigate the complexities of a relationship built amidst the demands of the BAU, Hotch found himself not just accepting but embracing the vibrant color you brought into his once-monochrome world.

The integration of your meticulous routines into Hotch's daily life was gradual, almost imperceptible at first, until one day he found himself deeply enmeshed in the particulars of your high-maintenance habits. What began as playful observations soon became cherished moments of his day, each routine offering a glimpse into the meticulous and vibrant world you inhabited.

Every evening, as you both prepared for bed, Hotch would lean against the bathroom doorway, watching as you engaged in your elaborate skincare routine. The array of creams, serums, and tools was impressive, and he'd often raise an eyebrow in mock incredulity as you explained the purpose of each one.

“Do you really need all of this?” Hotch would ask, his tone light and teasing as you applied a night serum with precise, practiced motions.

“Absolutely,” you’d reply without missing a beat, your reflection in the mirror smiling back at him. “It’s about maintaining standards, Aaron. You of all people should understand that.”

“I thought we were just going to bed, not preparing for a photo shoot,” Hotch would retort, the corners of his lips twitching into a smile.

“It’s called preventive maintenance,” you’d say, tapping the side of your nose with a finger. “One day, you’ll thank me when we’re both ninety, and I still look seventy.”

Hotch couldn’t help but laugh, the sound mingling with the soft notes of the evening. He had to admit, there was a certain peace in these nightly rituals, a tranquility that had seeped into the crevices of his once rigid routine.

Sometimes, you would catch him watching and pull him into the routine, applying a bit of moisturizer to his face with gentle, coaxing motions. “You’ll feel better,” you’d assure him, and he’d comply, not because he believed in the miraculous claims of the products but because it meant more moments shared with you.

On weekends, the rituals would extend to mornings. You’d take your time selecting an outfit, coordinating accessories and makeup with an artist’s eye for detail. Hotch would sit on the bed, coffee in hand, offering the occasional nod or hum of approval as you held up two nearly identical pairs of shoes, asking for his opinion.

“What do you think? The matte or the glossy?” you’d ask, holding them up for him to see.

“The matte,” Hotch would decide after a moment’s consideration. “It’s subtler.”

“Subtle,” you’d repeat, considering this. “I like it. Subtle but effective. Kind of like you.”

The routine wasn’t just about vanity or upkeep—it was a dance, a way of you expressing yourself and inviting him into your world. Hotch found himself missing these interactions whenever you were at your own apartment. The bathroom felt too empty, the mornings too quick and utilitarian. He missed the scent of your skincare products, the sound of your voice explaining the benefits of jasmine oil, or the way you’d ask his opinion on things he’d never considered before.

Even his morning routine had adapted; where once a quick shave sufficed, he now found himself opening your moisturizer, the scent a comforting reminder of you. It was a small concession to the routines you loved, a way of keeping you close even when miles apart.

Through these shared routines, Hotch learned more than just the importance of exfoliation or the difference between matte and glossy finishes. He learned the value of slowing down, of savoring the quiet moments together before the chaos of the day set in. Each ritual, each routine you shared, wove deeper connections between them, turning mundane moments into cherished memories and in doing so, seamlessly blending his life with yours.

With your birthday on the horizon, Hotch was well aware of the intricacies involved in selecting the perfect gift. Your independence and flair for purchasing exactly what you wanted, when you wanted, left little room for him to dazzle you with something unexpected. Yet, the desire to surprise and delight you was strong; he wanted to be the doting boyfriend who could still manage to sweep you off your feet.

One morning, as he was choosing a tie for work, you playfully suggested one that would "match beautifully with my purse—if I had the right shade." The comment was offhand, perhaps even forgetful of the collection you already owned, but it sparked an idea in Hotch's mind.

Later that day, armed with determination, Hotch sought out Garcia. He found her busy at her workstations, screens flickering with data.

"Garcia, could I get your help with something a bit more... personal?" Hotch began, hesitating slightly as he ventured into unfamiliar territory.

Garcia swiveled in her chair, her expression instantly shifting to one of eager attentiveness. "Of course, Hotch! What do you need? Secret admirer codes cracked? Background checks for mysterious suitors?" she quipped, her tone light.

"Actually, I need advice on buying a purse," Hotch admitted, and briefly explained the situation.

"A purse? Oh, for you know who?! This is going to be fun!" Garcia clapped her hands, her earlier levity shifting into focused enthusiasm. "Okay, first things first, we need something as unique and classy as she is. Let’s dive into the world of designer handbags."

Garcia guided him through various high-end brands, explaining the appeal of each. "These are timeless," she pointed out, scrolling through an array of sophisticated designs. "But knowing our girl, something with both function and a high fashion quotient would be ideal."

Hotch listened, absorbing details about textures, colors, and what each brand symbolized. They finally narrowed it down to a few choices, each one reflecting a different aspect of your personality and style.

"This one here," Garcia pointed at a sleek, modern satchel with minimalist design but luxurious detailing, "seems like it could be the perfect accessory for her. It’s stylish but not ostentatious, much like how she approaches her work and personal style."

"It looks great," Hotch agreed, imagining how it would look draped over your shoulder. He made a mental note of the bag and the brand, deciding to do a little more research before making the final purchase.

"Good luck, Hotch! She's going to love whatever you choose because it's from you," Garcia smiled warmly, giving him a thumbs-up as he thanked her and left.

Back at Hotch’s apartment, as you both moved through your evening routine, Hotch found opportunities to subtly probe for more of your preferences without giving away his intentions.

"So, if you were to splurge on something frivolous, what would it be?" Hotch asked casually as you were both settling down with a glass of wine.

"Frivolous?" you chuckled, giving him a playful look. "Isn’t everything I buy somewhat frivolous to you, Mr. Practicality?"

"Perhaps," Hotch conceded with a smile, "but indulge me."

"A purse," you said after a moment, a mischievous twinkle in your eye. "A really good, outrageously and stupidly expensive purse that makes me feel like a million bucks when I carry it."

"Sounds like a worthy investment," Hotch replied, his tone teasing but thoughtful. Your eyes met, and there was a spark of something that went beyond the casual banter—a shared understanding and appreciation for these little confessions.

Hotch tucked away every piece of information, each helping him build towards the moment he would present you with the perfect birthday gift. It was more than just a purse; it was a symbol of his attentiveness to your desires and his wish to celebrate everything you were.

But the birthday Hotch had planned for you was supposed to be special, a day to celebrate you in style, with every detail tailored to your liking. Instead, duty called in the form of a particularly tough case that dragged on much longer than anyone had anticipated. The hours turned into days, and by the time it was over, everyone was exhausted, physically and emotionally drained.

As the team began packing up, you sighed heavily, the weight of the last few days evident in your slumped shoulders. "I just want to go back to my apartment," you murmured. "I ran out of clothes, and I forgot half my skincare stuff in the rush out."

Hotch, who had been hoping to salvage what was left of the day, felt a twinge of disappointment. "You could grab what you need and come back to my place," he suggested, trying to keep his tone light, though concern etched his features. He’d go to your place if he could, but Jack was waiting for him. 

You shook your head, fatigue lining your face. "I'm just so tired, Aaron. Let’s just celebrate tomorrow, okay?" Your voice held a note of finality, but also a plea for understanding.

He knew he should let it go…give you the space you needed, but a part of him—the part that had been quietly contemplating a more significant step in your relationship—spoke up. "I was going to bring this up over dinner," Hotch began, his voice steady despite the chaos of the day, "but maybe this is the right moment. You and your... elaborate routines should just move in with me."

Your fatigue momentarily gave way to surprise. "Do you know what you’re getting into? My high maintenance might take over your space," you teased, a faint smile playing at your lips despite the exhaustion.

"Yes," Hotch said firmly, his gaze intense. "I know exactly what I’m getting into, and I love it. I miss it when you’re not there."

You looked at him, searching his face for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, your smile grew, and the weariness seemed to lift slightly. "You really want me and my half a suitcase of skincare products moving in?"

"Every last bottle and brush," Hotch confirmed, his voice softening. "It’s part of who you are, and I want all of you every day. Not just on good days or birthdays, but every challenging and tiring day too."

Your eyes softened, and you stepped closer, leaning into him slightly. "Okay, but we’re getting a bigger bathroom cabinet," you stipulated, your tone light but sincere.

"It’s a deal," Hotch agreed, wrapping an arm around you. The case had taken much from you both, but at this moment, a new door was opening—a commitment that promised to blend your lives in ways beyond shared cases and briefings.

As you both headed back, the weight of the case still lingering, there was a new undercurrent of hope, of shared futures and bathroom cabinets, a testament to the resilience of your bond.

You decided to pick up a few essentials from your apartment and spend the night at Hotch's place--now your place, too, despite your tiredness. Hotch, feeling a mix of relief and excitement, drove you to your apartment, waiting as you gathered your things.

Inside, you moved efficiently, albeit with a tired grace, packing your cherished skincare products and several outfits. Hotch leaned against the doorway, watching as you filled a small suitcase with what seemed to him an elaborate array of potions and tools. Each item was carefully selected, a ritual that he found both fascinating and slightly amusing.

“You sure you’ve got enough there for just one night?” Hotch teased lightly, his eyes twinkling with humor.

You glanced over your shoulder, a playful smirk on your lips. “This is the streamlined version, believe it or not. You might have to rent the apartment next door.”

“I’ll consult the landlord tomorrow,” Hotch quipped, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile.

Back at his apartment, as you began setting out your skincare products in the bathroom, Hotch watched for a moment, his mind returning to the gift he’d carefully hidden away—something he hoped would make your day a little brighter after the tough case.

“Hey,” Hotch called softly, capturing your attention as you meticulously arranged your items. “I have something for you. I was saving it for a proper celebration, but I think tonight is as good a time as any.”

Your curiosity piqued, you followed him to the living room, where he retrieved a small, elegantly wrapped box from a drawer. Handing it to you, he watched as your eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and anticipation lighting up your features.

You unwrapped the box with a gentle precision, and as you lifted the lid and saw the purse—a beautiful, designer pocketbook that perfectly matched the sophisticated style you cherished—your expression transformed into one of sheer delight.

“Aaron, this is beautiful,” you breathed out, carefully pulling the purse from the box. You admired the craftsmanship, running your fingers over the smooth leather and the detailed stitching.

“It reminded me of you,” Hotch said, his voice sincere. “Elegant, practical, and incredibly stylish. Happy Birthday.”

You looked up at him, your eyes shining not just from the beauty of the gift but from the thoughtfulness behind it. “I love it,” you said, stepping closer to wrap your arms around him in a heartfelt embrace. “Thank you; this is the best end to a rough day.”

Hotch held you close, his heart swelling with the joy of seeing you so happy. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make you smile like that,” he murmured into your hair, feeling the weight of the case and the fatigue of the day finally begin to lift.

As you pulled back slightly, still holding the purse, you teased, “Does this mean I get a new purse for every rough case?”

“Birthdays,” Hotch corrected with a gentle smile, his gaze softening as he added, “You make it incredibly hard for me to spoil you more than I already wish to.”

You laughed, a sound that Hotch had come to cherish deeply. “I’ll try to be less self-sufficient in the future,” you quipped, clutching the new purse a little closer as if it were a treasured award.

“I wouldn’t change a thing about your independence,” Hotch replied earnestly. “It’s one of the many things I admire about you. But allow me the occasional indulgence of spoiling you, especially on days like today.”

The purse, an elegant and thoughtful gift, lay between you on the coffee table, symbolizing not just a celebration of your birthday but of the new phase in your relationship. The evening settled into a comfortable rhythm, the earlier tension from the case dissolving into the background as you both enjoyed the simple pleasure of each other’s company.

With the challenges of the case behind you and the warmth of your shared space around you, Hotch felt a profound sense of contentment. This was more than just a birthday celebration—it was a reaffirmation of your partnership, a testament to how deeply your lives had intertwined.

As you both relaxed into the sofa, the conversation drifted from light teasing to deeper, more introspective topics. Every so often, your hand would brush against the purse, a physical reminder of Hotch’s affection and attention to what brought you joy.

“Thank you, Aaron,” you said again, your voice lower, more reflective as the night wore on. “For understanding me, even when I think I don’t need anything.”

Hotch reached over, his hand finding yours, squeezing it gently. “You don’t need to thank me for that,” he murmured. “It’s just another part of our journey together. And I’m grateful for every step we take, side by side.”

The purse remained on the table, a beacon of new beginnings and mutual understanding, as you both shared the quiet comfort of knowing you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch @estragos @todorokishoe24 @looking1016  @khxna @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @reidfile @bernelflo @lover-of-books-and-tea @frickin-bats @sleepysongbirdsings @justyourusualash @person-005 @iyskgd @hiireadstuff @kcch-ns

[buck-star]

I met them, and now I’m their princess

You met them, and now you’re more than just their good friend. You’re their princess, the bikers princess.

Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader x Biker!Steve Rogers

Wordcount: 1.631 Words

Warnings/Tags: tiny bit of angst, fluff, love confession, more fluff

Authors Note: HAPPY NEW YEAR! Hope you all had a nice start into the year and have a lot of happiness and whatever you wish this year! So here’s a little “Drabble” with our beloved Super soldiers for the start of the year. Divider made by me.

It’s a collaboration with @mercurial-chuckles. We thought it could be a cute idea to have a similar title and use the same prompt to start in the new year. Her work: I met them, and now I’m their queen.

Events: Stucky community prompt-list [Confession before the new year starts to get it off their chest], Marvel OC Hub [SB6010 | Row Three-One | Do you trust me? | @marvel-oc-hub], Stucky Bingo [N5 | Friends to lovers | @stuckybingo]

Masterlist | Stucky Masterlist

You're sitting on the sill of your window in your small apartment. Your eyes are searching the sky for the fireworks that light up the dark night. They follow every little sparkle until they disappear in the night sky, each one following a soft sigh that escapes your lips.

Your eyes are filled with longing — a longing for warmth and the love you feel whenever you're around two people. Two bikers to be exact. Unfortunately, those two people are happy with one another, while you're just their good friend.

If someone watches those big, muscular bikers looking at one another with that sweet, soft expression, affection written all over their face, they wouldn't believe those two are real. They look like the perfect gay couple out of a romance, maybe even the perfect movie.

You didn't mind any of it at all. They are sweet with you, friendly and polite like the perfect gentlemen. But at some point — where the sweetness warmed your heart more than it should, and their smile caused butterflies to go wild in your stomach — you feel slowly but deeply for these two bikers.

While others would admire them for their muscles, their perfect figure, or them just being bikers, for you, it's the soft smile that mostly matches the one they share with one another. Their ocean-blue eyes, which have that adorable sparkle in them when they are happy or excited — especially when they look at you. It's the way the sound of their rough, low voices sounds like honey when they talk to you and the softness and tenderness they always have around you. There is never a hint of fear or embarrassment, no matter what they do; as long as it's the three of you, there is only happiness and laughter being shared.

They even invited you to celebrate New Year’s Eve with them. While your heart was racing and you smiled brighter than ever, you told them you would be busy, trying to find an — any — excuse to not celebrate with them. As much as your heart was screaming at you to say yes, to spend the night with your favorite bikers, you just couldn't. Your mind told you not to, to not bother them while they share that evening with one another; you didn't want to disturb their special moment, and so you prefer when they have New Year's Eve just for themselves — that's at least what you try to tell yourself.

A sudden, loud noise makes you flinch, and your eyes focus on what's happening on the street outside your apartment. You blink. Once. Twice. Only when the two familiar bikes and the broad men on them are still there do you believe that this isn't a dream or any kind of hallucination. They are really there; Bucky and Steve are standing in front of your apartment, talking about something you don't understand while they park their bikes.

Bucky’s the first who takes off his helmet, shaking his head and causing his long, brown hair to fly in the cold wind of the night before they settle down perfectly. He’s always doing it, knowing how much you love when he does that, just as much as you love to run your fingers through his thick hair; it always makes your heart flutter.

Except you and Steve, there's no one who's allowed to touch Bucky's hair. He loves it too much and doesn't like it being a mess, but if you or Steve touch it, he doesn't care how he looks after. He would even laugh with his hair standing in all directions and him only looking hilarious; he would love that if it makes you happy.

Steve laughs softly, his blue eyes brighter when he watches his boyfriend and his little hair show. The blond-haired man runs his fingers through his short hair when he places his helmet on the bike and says something to Bucky once again. He then makes his way to your door; your eyes widen while you notice Steve walking in your direction and Bucky opening the bag he placed next to his bike on the ground.

You watch the scene through your window for a moment. Your eyes moving from Bucky to Steve and back to the brown-haired man. Before you see what Bucky pulls out of his bag, it knocks loudly at your door. You know it’s Steve, but you're too curious to see what Bucky has in his bag, so you remain where you are.

“I know you're there, princess,” Steve says, knocking once again. You huff softly but get up to open the door for Steve. The blond-haired man leans against the wall, a smirk plastered over his face, and he holds his hand out for you. “There you are. May we get your attention for a few minutes, princess? Trust me, you will love it.”

You nod, slightly confused about whatever they have planned. You thought they would celebrate it at their house together or maybe at the bar where they have their biker club meetings often. But it looks like they decided to celebrate in front of your apartment.

So you take your jacket from beside you and slide easily into your shoes before you take Steve's calloused hand. His soft smile is still on his face the whole time while his eyes roam over your body. “Thought you were busy. Busy watching the fireworks all alone from the window of your apartment?”

You blush softly, nodding your head. Bucky's low chuckle gets your attention when Steve nods toward him. It's like they had a bet on what you're planning to do when you said you would be busy. They know you too well, reading you like a book and knowing your overthinking well enough to know that you haven't planned anything but just didn't want to annoy them — which you never could.

Steve leads you further outside, stopping a few feet away from Bucky, who places some boxes on the ground, and you notice that those are fireworks. Bucky takes a few steps toward you, a wide grin on his face as he leans down to press his soft lips against your forehead. You immediately feel tingles in your stomach, and a shaky breath escapes your lips. Bucky chuckles low in his throat, almost purring when he notices it.

“Doll, I know— we know you said no to the invite, and you told us you're busy. But we—” Bucky says, interrupting himself for a moment. He looks at Steve, whose big hands are on your waist, pulling you tightly against his firm chest. Steve's strong arms wrap tightly around your waist. He lowers his head, his nose nudging against your neck. “We know you don't have plans, but… so we accept that you said no to the invite, but—”

“We couldn't start the new year knowing you would sit at home, all alone, longing for something you don't dare to ask for. And… we can’t start the new year without you around us, in our arms, princess,” Steve says, and your eyes widen slightly. Do they know? Did they find out about your feelings for them?

“We know about the feelings, babydoll. We know, and we... we waited for the perfect opportunity,” Bucky confesses. The confusion visible on your face. It feels like he can read your mind, but he can't, can he? Bucky walks back to the little boxes on the ground while Steve pulls you backwards. His lips trailing down your neck, he smirks against your skin when he notices the goosebumps he's causing.

After a moment, where Steve's closeness makes your heart race and your mind spin, you notice Bucky walking closer to the two of you again. He stays next to you, taking your smaller hand in his calloused one while he leans himself against Steve. The blond-haired lets one hand go and sneaks it around Bucky's waist, pulling him closer against the two of you. You're all looking at the sky, waiting for the fireworks to light up the dark night.

“We wanted to wait for this moment. Just before the fireworks will light up the night. We wanted to wait to make it special because you're the most precious and special thing to us. And we love you, princess,” Steve says, just when the fireworks start, your mouth drops open. Not just because of the amazing colors of the fireworks but also because of Steve's words.

“We are longing for you just like you do for us. We love you, not just like a friend. If you want, we would love to be with you. You, Stevie, and me,” Bucky mumbles and kisses your cheek softly. It's so familiar to you that you feel his soft lips against your skin, but it still makes you shiver slightly. You nod, a soft whimper escaping your lips when his lips keep lingering against your cheek and you can feel them turning upwards into that cute smile of his. You mumble a soft yes, agreeing to their idea to be their princess, to them being your bikers.

More fireworks light up the sky when you nod your head. Steve's strong arms pull you and Bucky tighter against him, and you can feel the warmth radiating off of them. Your eyes widen when you notice that there are hearts in different colors visible in the sky. They made personal fireworks just for that moment — they wanted it to be perfect, and they managed to make it perfect. Not just because of the fireworks but because you’re so close and being held so lovely by the two men you love more than anything. That was what you were looking for, the love you found in your favorite two bikers.

Taglist: @rogersbarber @loki-laufeyson68 @etherealdisneyvillainness @winterschildren8 @pono-pura-vida @kimmie113080 @sergeantbarnessdoll @sebastianstanisahotmf @mercurial-chuckles @holylulusworld @randomawesomeperson102 @looking1016 @multiversefanfics @kpopgirlbtssvt @iris-xoxo-juhu @fckedupandbeautiful @hisredheadedgoddess28 @casa-boiardi @blackhawkfanatic @mrsalexstan @thesarcasmqueen-22 @blackhawkfanatic @casa-boiardi @kandis-mom @armystay89 @blackhawkfanatic [You can add yourself here.]

[ka1rin]

hello!! could i req a smut fic with itoshi rin x shy!reader? i also love your worksss <3 thank you so muchhh

His Precious Angel

— rin itoshi x fem Reader , wc: 1.8k , genre: smut

contains: blowj (character receiving) , cum play , gentle domination

note: there was also a request about giving rin the sloppiest bj, so I decided to do both these requests at one fic, but we all know you cant reply to two fics at a time so…yeah….

He still remembered the first time he realized just how shy you were. It was during one of his matches, and you had shown up to support him, sitting quietly in the stands. While the crowd roared and chanted his name, you clutched the hem of your sweater, looking down at your lap. He caught your gaze just once during the game, and your immediate reaction was to look away, your face burning red. Rin had smirked to himself, secretly pleased by your adorable reaction.

But being shy didn’t mean you weren’t supportive or caring. You had a way of showing love through quiet gestures. Like the time you packed his favorite snacks before a practice session, slipping the neatly tied bag into his duffel without saying a word. Or how you’d leave little notes on his desk, reminding him to take care of himself. Rin noticed everything, even if you didn’t realize it.

One lazy Sunday afternoon, the two of you were lounging in his apartment. Rin had just finished a light training session, and you were curled up on the couch, flipping through a book. The peaceful silence was something he cherished.

After setting down his water bottle, Rin glanced at you, his teal eyes soft. “Hey,” he started, leaning back against the armrest. “What do you want to do today?”

You paused, your fingers gripping the edges of the book a little tighter. Your eyes darted to him, and a faint blush immediately spread across your cheeks. “Uh… I don’t know,” you mumbled, looking back down.

Rin raised an eyebrow. That wasn’t an unusual response from you, but something about the way your blush deepened and your lips pressed into a shy smile piqued his curiosity. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “What?” he asked, his voice soft but teasing. “You’re blushing. Did you think of something?”

Rin blinked at your sudden blush and the way you avoided his gaze. His curiosity only grew when you fiddled with the hem of your shirt, the action screaming of nervousness. Leaning closer, he tilted his head slightly. “What is it?” he asked, his voice calm but laced with intrigue.

You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip before finally whispering, “I was thinking… if it’s okay… maybe I could do something to make you feel good?”

His eyes widened ever so slightly at your words, his sharp teal gaze locking onto you. “Make me feel good?” he repeated, his tone low and even. He wasn’t entirely sure what you meant, but the vulnerability in your voice and the way your cheeks burned bright red told him it wasn’t something you were used to saying. “What do you mean?”

You swallowed hard, your hands clutching at your lap. “I just… I know I’m really shy, and I don’t always show how much I appreciate you,” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “You’re always so patient with me, and you’ve been winning all these matches lately… I just thought maybe I could… reward you.”

Rin stared at you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you worried you had said something wrong, your anxiety creeping in. But then he exhaled softly, reaching out to lift your chin so your eyes met his.

Rin blinked, his usually calm demeanor faltering slightly as he processed your words. “Make me feel good?” he repeated, his voice quieter now, yet still steady. His teal eyes locked onto your flushed face, taking in the nervous way you fidgeted.

You nodded quickly, avoiding his gaze. “I just… I feel bad sometimes, being so shy all the time. And you’re always so patient and understanding with me. I want to do something for you—to show you how much I appreciate you.”

He leaned back slightly, studying you. “You don’t have to do anything like that to make me happy,” he said firmly, his voice laced with his usual calm resolve. “Just being with you is enough.”

But the way his hand twitched at his side and the slight pink dusting his cheeks betrayed the truth he was trying to hide. You glanced up at him hesitantly, catching the subtle change in his breathing. “Rin… do you really not want it?”

His jaw clenched for a moment, and he looked away, exhaling slowly as if trying to steady himself. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want it,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

Your eyes widened at his honesty, and your gaze lowered instinctively, only to catch sight of the evidence of his desire pressing against his sweatpants. A sharp intake of breath escaped your lips, and Rin immediately noticed, his cheeks darkening further.

“Don’t look,” he muttered, shifting slightly as if trying to hide it.

But instead of looking away, you reached out, placing a hand gently on his arm. “It’s okay,” you murmured softly, your voice more confident now. “I want to, Rin. Not because I have to, but because I care about you.”

He stared at you, his usual stoic mask slipping to reveal a rare vulnerability in his eyes. After a moment, he leaned closer, his hand reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “If that’s how you really feel…” he murmured, his voice low and rough, “then I won’t stop you.”

Rin watched, transfixed, as you straightened your posture and swiftly gathered your long hair in a neat ponytail at the nape of your neck. Kneeling submissively before him, you glanced up with a shy yet eager smile. "Is it okay if I...?"

Rin swallowed hard, his eyes locked onto yours as he nodded jerkily, giving you silent permission. He spread his thighs wider, allowing you more room to kneel between them. You could see the prominent bulge in his sweatpants growing larger as you watched, his breath growing shallower and faster.

He watched hypnotized as your delicate fingers found the waistband of his sweatpants and slowly tugged them down, freeing his now fully erect member.

Rin's cock sprang free, throbbing and already leaking precum, as your fingers hooked into the waistband of his sweatpants, slowly dragging them down and exposing him fully. He gasped softly at the cool air hitting his heated skin, his cock twitching involuntarily.

You swallowed hard, trying to dispel the lump in your throat as you looked down at Rin's erection, neither of you having any prior experience to draw from. His length looked intimidatingly thick and long, glistening with beads of moisture at the tip.

You blushed furiously, averting your gaze for a moment before peeking back at his crotch. "You're... you're so big," you murmured shyly, your small hands hovering uncertainly over his thick, pulsing shaft.

Gently, almost hesitantly, you wrapped your small hand around the base of Rin's enormous erection, feeling the heat and weight of it in your palm. You began to stroke him slowly, marveling at the smooth, velvety texture and the way his cock twitched and pulsed in your grasp.

Rin's eyes flickered down to follow your gaze, noticing how you were staring intently at the glistening tip of his cock. He let out a stuttered gasp, his voice trembling with pleasure. "T-t-the tip... use your tongue on the tip..."

Rin's cock jerked sharply as your hot, wet tongue made contact with the sensitive tip, circling the narrow slit with tentative strokes. His fingers instinctively tangled in your hair, gripping lightly as a shuddering moan escaped his lips. "Ohhh fuuuck... y-yes, just like that..."

Rin's hips bucked involuntarily as you began to bob your head, your lips sliding along his aching shaft while you stroked rhythmically. His hands clenched tighter in your hair, fighting the urge to guide you further down, terrified he might overwhelm you with his size.

Your head bobbed rhythmically, taking more of him with each descent, while your hand worked magic on his shaft. Rin's breath hitched, "S-slow... you don't have to take so much..." But your enthusiasm was evident as you hummed softly over his tip, making his legs shake.

As you continued to bob your head, your lips stretching around his girth, Rin's hands finally gave in to their instinct, gently guiding your head deeper, trying to find a comfortable pace. His other hand reached down to fondle your hair, keeping you in place as you struggled to accommodate his massive length.

Rin's cock hit the back of your throat and you fought back your gag reflex, feeling your eyes water as you held him deep. Your nose pressed against his pelvis, inhaling his musky scent, before slowly pulling back, leaving a glistening trail of saliva on his shaft.

"-too good... you're taking too much..." Rin's words trailed off into a whimper as you swallowed him down again, your throat convulsing around his thick head. His hips bucked upward, hitting your face with each thrust, as he lost control of his movements.

"-too good... you're taking too much..." Rin's words trailed off into a whimper as you swallowed him down again, your throat convulsing around his thick head. His hips bucked upward, hitting your face with each thrust, as he lost control of his movements.

Just as he was on the edge, you pulled back, leaving just the tip in your mouth and staring up at him with innocent eyes. "Cum for me..." you whispered around his sensitive head, your tongue flickering against the slit. The sight of you watching him fall apart pushed Rin over the edge.

Rin threw his head back with a guttural moan, his cock throbbing intensely as thick streams of cum erupted from the tip. The hot spurts shot out wildly, painting your cheeks, lips, and even your eyebrows in pearlescent stripes as you maintained eye contact, coyly batting your lashes.

Rin tenderly wiped the remnants of his release from your face with his thumb, a soft rare smile playing on his lips. He then brought the digit to your mouth, pressing it gently against your lips.

You looked up at Rin with trusting eyes, parting your lips to gently suck his thumb into your mouth. You licked his thumb clean, savoring the salty-sweet taste of his cum. As you released his thumb, Rin smiled, his eyes shining with affection, "Good girl..."

[7seas-of-ryy]

Crestfallen - Part 3

Author’s Note: I made up a lot of sicknesses/random things that have never been mentioned throughout the actual ACOTAR series! The breaks in text are going back and forth between the two rooms.

Overall Summary: Although you were born in the Day Court, you've been living in the Night Court for a century. You're close with the inner circle but what will happen when a new healer is brought into the picture?

Part 3 Summary: Clara has been found out, but what has she done to you?

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: talks of injuries

"I'm sure I have no idea what you mean." Clara said softly, a small confused smile on her lips.

"When I asked you to help her, you said "I didn't do this one." What does that mean." Nesta snarled at the young healer.

Mor seemed deep in thought, Azriel and Cassian were equally confused, and Nesta seemed ready to pounce.

"Now that you mention it, I do remember hearing her say that." Mor spoke up.

"You better tell us what's up right now." Cassian growled.

At this point, Clara's smile faultered. She looked around for a way out but noticed the four of them had her surrounded and they wouldn't stop until they knew the truth. She may be evil but she wasn't dumb.

"It wasn't even that bad." The healer confessed.

"What have you done?" Azriel questioned, his voice deadly calm.

------

Madja had seen cases like yours before but never this bad. The cut on your back had traces of venom in it. A rare venom that used the victim's power against them.

She needed to extract every last ounce of it that was in your system but it was trickier than it sounded. If she took too much too fast, it could essentially tear your powers from your very being which would kill you.

"I need you to enter her mind. Once you are in, I will start to remove the poison from her system, you just need to let me know if her mind starts fading." Madja explained to Rhys.

"Are you sure this will work?" Rhys asked.

"Of course I am, boy. Now do as I say." She said quickly.

Rhys tried to enter your mind but all he could see was blinding light. There was no where for him to enter, it was almost as if the light was burning him. He pulled away, never feeling anything like it before.

"I can't get in, her light, it burns me." He explained to the healer.

"Listen to me. It might burn a bit but you will be fine. On the other hand, if we don't fix her right now her light will continue to burn brighter until it has consumed her. Perhaps we could get the shadowsinger in here to help." Madja told Rhys, hoping Azriel's shadows could help.

Rhys immediately spoke to Az through his mind and he appeared within seconds.

"What can I help with?" He rushed out his question.

"I cannot enter her mind, it is too bright, painfully so. Could you somehow use your shadows to help me get through?" Rhys explained the situation.

"I can try." Az responded.

------

Cassian looked towards where Azriel just stood, knowing he went to help you.

"I have no clue what's wrong with Y/N, honest. I swear I didn't think it would go this far." Clara pleaded with the group.

"You better start explaining before I unleash Nesta upon you." Cassian threatened.

Nesta had been eerily still, like a predator hunting her prey. Clara was visibly scared. Her hands were shaking, terrified of what Nesta would do to her.

"Ok listen. I've had a huge crush on Azriel for years now, so when I saw you guys needed another healer I took that as my opportunity." The "healer" explained.

"We've only known you for 2 weeks, how could you have a crush on him for years?" Mor asked.

"Everyone knows Azriel, the mighty shadowsinger, the feared spymaster of the Night Court. Well...when I met him all he wanted to talk about was Y/N. About how much I'd love her personality, how she's so great," Clara went on, "so I was a little jealous of her."

By this point, Mor was dissappointed she didn't believe you. She assumed you were exhausted from your mission and the guilt she felt was awful.

"When she showed up to my shop I got angry that she was back so soon. Rhys wanted me to do a check up on her and all I saw was a tiny cut on her back so I thought she'd be fine and I just wanted her to leave." She continued to explain.

Nesta was fuming by this point. Not only because of what she did to her friend but also because she didn't see through Clara sooner.

"Wait wait wait, all this is happening to Y/N because you're jealous of her? What kind of vile creature are you?" Cassian seathed.

"I didn't mean for any of this to happen-" She began to plead when Azriel appeared in the room again.

------

Rhys re-entered your mind, this time with Azriel's shadows being a protective barrier around him. It was way easier this time but he wasn't sure how long Az could hold it.

"Alright, start." Rhys told Madja.

The healer began her work. Unweaving the venom from your powers, from your soul. She was about halfway through when Rhys called out.

"STOP! I can feel her fading!" Rhys was panting, he was exerting all his energy.

Madja pulled out, confusion taking over.

"This doesn't make sense. It's as if another energy is pulling her powers. Like an untouched ball of energy using up the rest of her." She explained.

"What do we do?" Azriel questioned.

"It needs another energy form to pull from..." She started.

"My shadows." He whispered.

Before anyone could stop him he sent them out to you and that little ball inside of you immediately began to absorb them. He screamed out in pain and Rhys and Madja quickly began to work.

It took only a few moments more for Madja to finish yet it felt like an eternity for the two males. It had been way easier now that Az was distracting whatever it was inside of you. The venom was successfully extracted and the room was eerily quiet. Rhys and Az both fell back, feeling drained from using their powers in such a way.

"Why isn't she waking up?" The shadowsinger whispered, making his way toward you.

"It must have to do with whatever is deep inside her. I need to do a full body work up on her to see what is going on." She spoke and started right away.

Az felt a tear slide down his cheek and quickly brushed it away. The High Lord stayed back to give you space to be checked out but he felt the same as the male next to him, worried and hopeless.

It felt like an eternity when Madja spoke up again.

"There is a substance inside her nose. Almost like a powder but I haven't seen it before. I'll have to take it back with me to break the molecules down. I'm afraid Y/N will have to stay in this state for now." She told the two males.

Azriel's head shot toward Madja at her words.

"Wait, did you say a powder was in her nose?" He muttered.

She just nodded her head in response, holding up the sample she collected. Your words from earlier popped into his head.

"Y/N told me 'she blew some powder in my face which caused everything'." Azriel stated coldly and winnowed away.

------

The shadowsinger appeared in front of Clara, his shadows surrounding her and pinning her against the wall. She shrieked in either pain or fear but he didn't care. You were in danger and he would stop at nothing to help you.

"What did you blow in Y/N's face?" He demanded.

"What?!" She feigned innocence.

Azriel held up the vial of powder close to her face. His shadows squeezed tighter around her frame.

"It's nothing serious," She weezed out, "It's a mix of vamire, spitfire aconite, and root of igranium. All it's supposed to do is heighten the pain/sickness they already have. I had an antidote that I gave her. It's in my bag."

Mor quickly grabbed the bag from the female, searching for both the powder and the antidote. She handed them both to Az.

"And why would you posion her just to give her an antidote?" Cass asked.

"I wanted to impress Azriel." She whimpered looking down.

"What's in the antidote?" Az shouted at her making her flinch.

"A..Adlirin and G..G..Green Gilliflower." She sputtered in terror.

The shadows left along with their master and she fell to the floor.

------

"Both of these are in her system," Az spoke holding the vials, "Vamire, Spitfire Aconite, Root of Igranium, Aldirin, and Green Gilliflower."

Madja's eyes grew wide and a bad feeling shot through both Az and Rhys at her reaction.

"This isn't good." She said, looking over your unconscious form.

Taglist

@rcarbo1 @acourtofbatboydreams @bravo-delta-eccho @tele86 @theravenphoenix26

@anoneyesee @ren-ni @kabekusa @isa1b2h3 @i-am-infinite

@historygeekqueen @mariahoedt @fr0stf4ll

[revelboo]

Hello Happy new year.

I really wanted to thank you for all your transformers writing. Humans meeting Cybertronians will always make me happy, especially when it's followed with several angs and misunderstanding shenanigans.

I love how cybertronias either get their humans by picking them randomly (Autobots and Decepticons on earth) or the humans literally appear in front of them (Lost Light crew). Its like the universe is telling them "now bond" in the most awkward get alone T-shirt (*cough* transformers one au).

Also, where are you storing all the souls people are offering you? I would like to sacrifice mine for more of the sweet Murder Machine Tarn or (but just if you can and would like to) some Sunder.

Gotta save the Cybertronian race somehow- scenarios with the three least okay Cybertronians

Obsessive Cybertronians Scenarios 18+ 🌶️

Sunder x Reader, Tarn x Reader, Vortex x Reader

Sunder

• “Where were you?” That husky, low voice strokes over you as the inner door seals behind you. Can hear the shivery sound of his chains sliding as he strains against them. You know he can’t get loose, that he’s trapped, but the fine hair at your nape still prickles with a combination of fear and excitement. Unlike the Cybertronians on the ship, Sunder can feed off your memories but can’t shred them and destroy your mind. Understand that, but you can still feel it when he gets in your head and sometimes it goes both ways. His twisted thoughts and emotions spilling over into you. Spreading like poison through you. “I need you.” Eyes closing as he shifts restlessly, you gather your strength and remind yourself that you’re in charge here. Starting up the scaffolding that had been erected to give you access to his berth, your breath comes quicker. Fear and need. “I missed you, little love.”

• Head turning, he watches you, glossa sliding over his denta. They’d forced him to mass displace to make him manageable and bound him, giving him you thinking he can’t manipulate you. Fools. Though he’s enjoyed playing with you, dabbling in your memories. Finding all sorts of lovely insecurities. Like the fact that you’re surrounded by Cybertronians, but so lonely. “You’re just hungry,” you mutter, drifting closer anyway. Because you’re as hungry as he is. Afraid of what the crew will think of you if they find out what you do with him. To him.

• “Starving.” Hands bound at his sides, he flexes his servos. “What has you troubled? Come here.” Those blue optics stare at you, his lips parted as his hips lift as much as they can. Taunting you. “Let me taste.” Know he means your memories, but as he slides that glossa over his denta you shiver. Because you don’t trust him, know exactly what he is, how awful and ruined he is.

• “Not happening,” you say as you toe off your boots and strip off your lower coverings, leaving the rest on. Hips lifting again when you lay a soft hand on his chassis and shift over him. That little touch sparking through him, letting him in. Clever fingers finding the panel and releasing his erect spike. Optics shuttering and lips parting as you grip him and guide him to you. Letting you believe you’re in control as you take his spike deep into your wet heat. Taking your pleasure as he uses the contact to delve into you, feeding off of your memories. Living through them as you brace your palms on him and undulate against him.

• Is It how wrong it is that makes it so good? Or is his corruption spreading to you, making you as twisted as he is. Head tossed back as you bounce on him, your breath catches. Feeling him in your head, spreading like smoke through you. Whimpering as you remember the last victim. Hunting another Cybertronian, so hungry. Eager for the kill, his hunger twisting through you as you devour their memories. Under you, he’s whispering in that silken, terrible voice. Crooning to you as you ride his spike. “Let me go, little love. We could be free,” he groans as you move faster against him. “Take such good care of you.” Hear his chains rattle as his hips rock up against you, voice growing strained. Know he’s lying to you, but you want it a little more every time. Want him even as you fear someone checking on you and finding you on his spike.

Tarn

• Servos tightening on your hips as he kneels behind you, you whimper as he buries his spike inside you. “Weak,” he snarls, hips moving urgently against you to stroke deep. “Blasphemous.” Cheek resting on your outstretched arm, hips up as he ruts against you with deep, hard strokes, his optics glint at you from behind his mask. Because no matter how much he insists this is wrong, he doesn’t stop. Sneering at humanity and weakness in front of the rest of the DJD, but when it’s just the two of you, he can’t seem to stop reaching for you.

• Running a palm up your spine as he thrusts against you, lost in the feel of you gripping his spike, he hates it even as he needs it. Needs you. “Tarn,” you moan and his optics shutter, hips pumping frantically as you tremble under him. Every single time he claims you, he swears it’s the last time. That he won’t succumb to this weakness. This shame. And then he finds himself bearing you down, mounting you again. Wishing he was stronger. That he could just break you and be free of this addiction, but never able to. How many times has he wrapped his servos around that delicate throat while you rest against him, thinking how easily he can end this? But never following through. Unable to lose you.

Vortex

• “Do it,” he groans, mask retracted and denta bared as you press that little blade, the one he’d given you, to the mesh of his neck under his chin. Hands on your hips, he rocks himself against you. Feeling the way you tighten on his spike. “Is that what you want? Me to beg? Please.” Laughing, he lifts his hips and throws you off balance. Feels the little bite of pain of the blade cutting him, before you yank it away from his throat, eyes wide. “Frag, a bit harder. Deeper.” Not sure if he means the blade or his spike stroking inside you. Servos tightening on your hips as he rolls. Hears you swear as the little blade goes clattering and that lovely coppery scent fills his senses.

• Back hitting the floor as his hips surge against yours, you hook your legs around his waist. Feel the wetness running down your wrist where you cut yourself. Spike pounding deep, he catches your arm and drags your hand to his mouth. Latching onto you, the side of your hand gripped in his denta as his glossa slides over the shallow cut to make you squirm. Pain and pleasure spangling together as you dig your thumb into his neck, finding that little nick and pressing against it until he shudders against you, biting hard enough to make you cry out as he releases. Hips surging against you, as he runs his glossa against the inside of your wrist and stares down at you, venting raggedly. Slipping free of you long enough to flip you onto your belly, then he’s inside you again, hips pumping as his mouth brushes your neck and shoulder and he bites again. Gripping you in his denta as he ruts against you and you scream, coming apart. Trembling as he keeps moving against you, both of you unable to find pleasure without pain. The same kind of broken.

If they fully bond to him, he could, but they’re refusing to give in completely so far

[willyoubemycherryy]

𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓝𝓮𝔀 𝓨𝓮𝓪𝓻 (𝓕. 𝓣𝓲𝓰𝓮𝓵𝓪𝓪𝓻)

…I have no words for this or myself. Enjoy.

Contains (ooh boy): kissing and I mean nasty kissing, spanking, teasing, oral f receiving, Fiyero sucks you off the bone and is unhinged about it, multiple rounds, multiple 0rgasms, fatcxck! Fiyero, stomach bulge, creaming and squirting, dacriphylia, disgusting kissing like seriously, more crying, unprotected and minimally provoked railing, ZERO plot, some fluff I think😭

‎ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ.

So much for starting off the new year in a wholesome way….

“Come now, princess. We won’t have a happy new year if you don’t say it back”, Fiyero teases you. Words dripping in false sweetened concern against your lips that are dropped open in pleasure; dipping his head to tongue along the roof of your mouth, pace unrelenting in the way his cock slams into your wet heat.

You’d say it back if you could.

Having been at this for some time since you’d woken Fiyero up to insist he kiss you before midnight or else you two wouldn’t be together in the New Year. Fiyero, sweet as ever, was more than willing to indulge you but things swiftly got out of control when after kissing you, he swirled his tongue around your mouth like he was trying to commit your taste to memory before pulling away, smacking his lips.

Your body lights up with that heavy warmed molasses feeling as Fiyero settles on top of you, looking down into your eyes as he suggests:

“How about a double kiss? You know, so we’ll definitely be together in the new year.” Huh? You’d never heard of that and as Fiyero keeps distracting you, big warm hands caressing all over your body leaving scorching shivers in their wake. His hands so heavy with intent that it takes you a minute before you ask.

“What’s a double kiss?”

Aww. You really are such a treat. Fiyero quirks an eyebrow as he coos at you. Nosing along your neck until he reaches your ear. He knows exactly what a double kiss is and he can’t wait to show you, blood humming through his body at the thought of your sweet, soft self under his tongue as he ‘kisses’ you. Fiyero drags his hands down lower, slowly feeling the material of your pretty nightie under his palms before settling them on your thighs; making you gasp with a firm squeeze- when he whispers in your ear through the tension that now coats the room.

“Let me show you? They’re very sweet, you’ll love it, pet.” Oh? You try to ignore the quickening of your heart as you nod at him.

“O-okay..” You sounded so cute and nervous that Fiyero’s chest swelled with affection, kissing wetly down your body, moving your sleepwear up to suckle at all the newly exposed skin that was so much warmer the lower he got.

Fiyero tries to take a deep breath, calm down a little but it’s of little use when all he can smell and feel is you. His position quickly gave you the idea of what a double kiss was and you shiver at the thought. Sensing your nerves, Fiyero takes your hands in his- licking slowly down your bellybutton to the top of your cunt then looking up to quickly reassure you even as his mouth waters in anticipation of your wetness.

“Don’t worry princess, I’ll go easy.”

About 15 minutes and 2 orgasms later, he in fact did not go easy on her. The second he opened your legs and saw your fat lips shining under a heavy gloss of your juices, he lost it. Shoving his face into you as he lapped into your hole like a dog. Thick, heavy licks through your folds, suckling messily at your clit.

The sudden onslaught of sharp pleasure made you cry out, hands flying to pull at his hair, needing to get a break from the intensity but your moans of “not so hard” fell on deaf ears and the second time you pulled his hair, Fiyero’s entire mouth was over your pussy when he moaned, vibrating your soaking pussy in the process, your mouth dropping open in a silent scream, thighs clamping shut as you cum all over his face.

Fiyero’s eyes flutter as the taste of your squirt hits his tongue, feeling almost drunk and he hums in satisfaction. Lips moving as he makes out with your cunny, fat and hard in his pants as he presses his tongue in harder strokes against you. Shivers wrack up your spine from overstimulation but he doesn’t pay it any mind- flipping you on your stomach while you’re still breathless, positioning you in a low arch. Hot hands rub up the sides of your thighs, his lips kissing down the back of each one and you flush from the exposure, calling his name in uncertainty.

“Fiyero?”

He has to physically tear his eyes away from the sight. The new angle letting him see everything from the creaminess of your still spasming hole to the soft pucker of your other whole and he’s aching to have his tongue in you again.

“Mmm, yeah lovely?”

“What’re doin’?” You’re clearly still dazed from how fast and hard you came but it’s fine. He’s got you.

“Kissing you. So we’ll be together in the new year. S’that alright darling?” He purrs out and you visibly melt even as you feel yourself getting a bit of an attitude. He was talking to you like that on purpose. But still, you nod anway.

“Yeah, that’s alright”.

No sooner than the words left your mouth, his was on you again. Tonguing your hole before flicking the nub repeatedly in lavish strokes. You tried to muffle yourself by burying your head in the pillows but a sharp smack that echoed in time with the stinging burn that came after had your raising your head, keening dizzily when you were rewarded with three fingers rubbing against that warm bundle of nerves inside you and a muffled “good girl” before lips wrapped around your clit, hot tongue grinding against the underside and you were cumming so hard you couldn’t hear- wailing breathlessly.

You fall onto your stomach, so busy trying to catch your breath before Fiyero kills you that when he maneuvers you to laying on your back, it takes about five minutes and your vision clearing to realize it.

Fiyero peppers kisses all over your face and neck as he looks fondly at the state he’s put you in, needing to have you. Licking his lips, he can still taste you and it makes the nerves beneath his skin simmer. Those whining sobs that fell from your lips at when you came all over him are his favorite and he wishes to make you sound that way all the time. His pretty little thing, feeling so good you don’t know what to do with yourself…

Your eyes are glued to the veins on his thick forearms as he undresses, gasping hotly when he drags you down the bed by your ankles, resting them on his shoulders, kissing the inside of your knee as he asks,

“Ready to be more together? In the New Year?” The sight of his dimples showing through his dangerous little smirk let you know that he planned on you two being together either way but you nod, smiling back.

“Absolutely. Wanna be full of you not just in this new year, but all of them.” Fiyero groans at the innuendo, sliding himself through your folds and coating himself in your juices before slamming into the hilt, eyes locked on your face.

“You will, see? Happy New Year’s baby.”

Which led you to now;- with him fucking you well into after midnight, so wet that it leaks down the front of his thighs. Hips rolling into you so deep, you feel the pressure of it on the inside of your bellybutton as Fiyero makes you cry for it.

You wouldn’t be surprised if you’d woken all of Oz with the very happy New Year you’re having, goosebumps rising over your skin as Fiyero licks and bites at your puffy nipples, hips moving relentlessly as he slams his fat cock into you- battering that gooey spot inside you. You couldn’t remember how many times you’ve cum and Fiyero clearly didn’t care, ruining you with how good he was fucking you, moving his mouth off your chest to capture your lips in a filthy kiss, intertwining his tongue with yours before sucking it into his mouth. It was so hot you feared you’d evaporate, actively concentrating on your form so you don’t float away.

Breaking apart as you moan in unison, Fiyero lazily raises an eyebrow as he groans out in your face,

“You have to say it back, sweet thing. Or else it won’t work.” The mock concern shouldn’t be hot because you’re not a whore (for him you are) but it was your superstition that started this. As soon as you open your mouth to say it back, there’s a warm palm and pressure as Fiyero presses down on the outline of his cock through your tummy and you scream- really feeling him now.

Fiyero’s hips stutter at the way you seal tighten, spasming walls threatening to milk him dry as you cry prettily, biting his lip at how hard you’re making it for him not to cum. Normally he’d let you off the hook but teasing you is always fun so pressing a kiss to your sweaty forehead, he fucks into you a bit slower but harder, making you feel every inch. The result is worth it. The loud smacks where you connected sound even wetter and Fiyero swears as he looks down, seeing sloppy white rings around the thick base of his cock as it stretched you out.

You were creaming.

Creaming hard too, white splashing out of you, flecking onto his lower stomach, tears budding in your eyes as you wail brokenly- still trying to form words but can’t. Just looking at you does it, the dark hickies scattered around your chest, soft skin wet with sweat and orgasm as you creamed his cock had him shooting ropes deep into you, head thrown back moaning in bliss.

He grinds, humping into you until the coil in his stomach is completely gone, leaving a warm buzz from the back of his skull and down. Breathing for a minute he looks down to check on you but you’re already falling asleep. Smiling, he shakes you gently, laughing at the irritated look you shoot him in your exhaustion.

“My deepest apologies in bothering you but I must vacate your premises so we can clean up.” He whispers against your cheek as he kisses it. You simply wind your arms over his back in a hug before snuggling into him, eyes still shut as you mumble sleepily.

“Stay put, we can do that later…still gotta stay together.” His chest warms at how content you are with him and he settles on you again, cock softening inside you.

“Ah, right. For the New Year?”

“Mmhm”, and he can hear you roll your eyes before whispering back.

“Goodnight angel.”

“Goodnight pretty pain in my ass.”

He huffs out a laugh but closes his eyes as he listens to your heartbeat, smiling.

Every year is good so long as it has you.

[miriamladyvoid]

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Always an Angel, Never a God

"Sometimes, she felt as if her heart were a dying star, flickering weakly in the vast darkness of the sky. Always present, but barely noticeable among so many other, brighter lights, beautiful in its light, but always seeming to be just a heartbeat away from going out".

✧I will no longer write something so ambitious again; it was so complicated to cohere all of this because I didn't want to discard any character from each dorm. So I hope the pace of the reading doesn't feel weird. The tone was supposed to be more hopeful, but I started to feel a little sad at the end.

✧Fem Prefect, the reader is the Ramshackle prefect.

The nights in Twisted Wonderland had always been a refuge; from the window of the Ramshackle Dorm, the prefect watched the firmament with a mixture of longing and melancholy. It was in those moments of stillness, under the immense night sky, that she could allow herself to breathe. The stars always seemed to offer her a companionship her friends could never fully provide. Not because they didn't love her, but because, at the end of the day, she was different. Twisted Wonderland, with all its magic and twisted wonders, was a fascinating place, but it was not her home. Her days passed in silent repetition.

First there was Ace, always quick with a joke, but his words sometimes hurt her more than he knew. "Prefect, what would we do without you?" he said half-jokingly and half-seriously. But those words, they hurt. What would they do without me? But what am I beyond solving their problems? Riddle, with his severe look and devotion to order, came to her when Heartslabyul fell apart under the weight of his own rules. "You're reasonable; I'd rather trust you," he said, like it was a compliment. However, in his eyes, she was only another piece in his perfect order, a resource to use when the rules were not enough to maintain the order.

Trey, always kind and calm, offered her small comforts in the form of candy and kind words. “Don’t worry so much,” he would say as he handed her a freshly baked cookie, as if sugar could sweeten the bitterness she felt. It was as if Trey treated her with the same kindness one gives to a stranger, someone you want to please but not let get too close to. Cater, always smiling and with the phone ready, seemed to see her in a brighter light, at least on the surface. “This is going straight to Magicam, but make sure you give your best smile, okay?” he exclaimed while making sure she was well framed in his selfies. But once the photo is taken, she becomes a memory that faded away among filters and irrelevant comments.

Deuce was different, and maybe that's why it hurt her more. "Prefect, I'll do better next time," he'd say after some disaster, his eyes filled with determination and guilt. In his clumsy way, he always wanted to prove to her that he could be better, that he could be up to it. But in those desperate attempts to prove himself, she couldn't help but feel responsible for the insecurity he carried. It was as if, instead of supporting each other, he was running after a difficult goal, looking for validation in a place where she herself couldn't find it.

The moments with Leona were like shooting stars: brief flashes of connection that illuminated the darkness, only to quickly fade away. He was a dying star, exhausted and unwilling to shine for anyone else. Sometimes, it seemed she managed to truly see him, glimpsing something beyond his usual indifference. His distant gaze made her feel like a powerless spectator, unable to stop his inevitable collapse. "Don't try so hard," he would tell her, yawning with squinted eyes. "You don't belong here anyway." His carefree words always cut deeper than intended. Jack, despite his loyal and protective nature, saw her as someone he always had to take care of. "You're strong, but sometimes you get into too dangerous situations," he would say, his tone full of concern. His protection was comforting, but also a chain that kept her anchored to a dependency she didn't want. By his side, she felt like a star whose shine depended on the protection of others, trapped in an orbit that eclipsed her independence.

Ruggie, on the other hand, viewed her through a more pragmatic lens. "If you ever need anything, you know, just ask," he would tell her with a mischievous grin. But there was always a transaction behind his words, as if she was just one more on his list of favors, something he could cash in when it was convenient. To him, she was like a distant star, useful insofar as she could offer something, but always interchangeable. "Don't take things so personally, Prefect. We're all looking out for ourselves here." That raw truth, stripped of sentimentality, was a brutal reminder that, in this world, no one shone without a price to pay.

Azul saw her as an opportunity. He always had a deal or contract at hand, waiting for her to fall. “You can always count on me for a fair price,” he would say, with that calculating smile that never revealed his true interest. Like the ocean that reflects the stars but never touches them, she never felt like more than a surface he turned to when he needed something. She was not an equal. And though she knew his words were double-edged, there was a strange comfort in being valued, even if it was for her usefulness. Floyd was a fickle tide; he was unpredictable, and his light always seemed to flicker between whim and disdain. “Shrimpy, you’re fun! You don’t bore me as easily as the others!” he would say with a smile that failed to disguise his capricious nature. Sometimes he would smother her with his attention, with brusque hugs and laughter that lashed like a violent tide, but his effervescence had an edge; when he grew bored of her company, he would abandon her without hesitation.

Jade, always his brother’s elegant shadow, would approach with his serpentine calm and eyes that seemed to unravel secrets. “It’s always a pleasure having you around, Prefect,” he would comment with that polite smile that never reached his eyes. His tone was always wrapped in impeccable politeness; she felt like his words were more of an assessment than a compliment. At his side, she felt like a star trapped in a jar, admired only as long as it served to feed his curiosity.

Kalim, with his bright optimism, was perhaps the one who treated her with overflowing kindness, but even warmth could be blinding. "You're a great friend," he would say sincerely, but something in those words made her hesitate. He would seek her out when he wanted to share her joy, but he could never quite grasp her sadness. Sometimes, being by his side was like floating in a sky lit by fireworks, dazzling and joyful but a light that fades when the sun makes its appearance. With Jamil, the connection was more complicated, a precarious balance like that of a star orbiting dangerously close to a black hole. Always trapped in Kalim's shadow, his own struggles overshadowed any support she might need. “It is better that you do not get too involved,” he warned her with his cold tone, his gaze fixed on a point beyond her, as if she weren't even there. Despite that, she sometimes lent him a hand in his duties with Kalim. But she knew that, for him, it was nothing more than a satellite, a secondary star without its own brightness, destined to revolve around something bigger and more important than itself.

Vil was a supernova, bright and blinding, consuming himself in his quest for perfection. “Beauty takes effort, Prefect,” he told her with brutal frankness, his critical eyes seeing each of her imperfections as something that needed to be corrected. His words, wrapped in the confidence of someone who had always been admired, only reminded her how imperfect she felt around him; his words, though well-intentioned, left her feeling more dulled than enlightened. Rook, the hunter whose love for beauty was as great as life itself, saw the prefect as a masterpiece. “You are so fascinating, my dear Trickster,” he exclaimed, his poetry as intoxicating as it was confusing. His words were a hymn to her uniqueness, but behind his admiration was a disturbing curiosity, as if he wanted to decipher her and reduce her to a simple piece of his endless collection of discoveries and beauties.

Epel, determined to prove his strength, kept her at a distance. “I don’t need you to babysit me like a child,” he insisted. She admired his determination, but she couldn’t ignore the pain his words left behind. His distance was a reminder that even among the lost, vulnerability was a burden few were willing to share.

Idia kept to himself, always hidden behind the screen of his tablet. “I like having you around,” he had once told her. They shared the strangeness of not fitting in, but even in that shared solitude, she felt a distance. “We’re like NPCs, you know? The ones on the outside, the ones who don’t count,” he had once joked. Despite his isolation, Idia shone, albeit in a dim, reserved way. He took refuge in his solitude; she desperately sought to be seen, to be understood. Ortho, on the other hand, was always an unwavering warmth. His innocence and curiosity radiated a light reminiscent of a young star: bright, pure, and free of the shadows of a life that never came to be. “You’re my brother’s friend, so you’re my friend too!” he would say enthusiastically, in that tone that made his every word seem like a gift. She knew that, in Ortho’s eyes, she was someone special. Yet she couldn’t help but wonder if her worth depended solely on the connection she shared with Idia. Would he still view her with the same affection if her bond with his brother disappeared? Would she still matter if that thread unraveled?

Lilia was like a dying star, its light still shining brightly, but hiding the imminence of its extinction. "Ah, Prefect, you still have much to learn," he would say with a soft smile, as if he knew something she could not understand. To him, she was a curious flicker in time, something to cherish while it lasted, but without the depth to leave a real mark on his long-lived existence. Like a reminder of what is fleeting, an echo of the lights he had seen go out countless times. Sebek, with his fiery passion, treated her as if she were a star that had strayed from its course, something that needed to be guided back into place. “Though you are a human without magic, you have some worth!” Though his words often carried reproach, beneath was a misplaced devotion that she could not ignore. To Sebek, she was a lesser star, one that existed only to reflect the greatness of her lord. Even his attempts to protect her felt like an extension of his own obsession, leaving her trapped in his shadow. Silver was the stillness of a dawn before the sun rose, a soft glow that always seemed on the verge of fully awakening. “Prefect, your presence always brings peace,” he said in a sleepy tone, as if he saw her more as a whisper in the background of his reality than as a clear voice. Yet his perpetual drowsiness created a barrier between them, as if he were trapped in a dream from which he could not wake. To him, she was a star that illuminated his path, but whose light barely managed to penetrate his own lethargy.

Finally, on one of her darkest nights, when the weight of her isolation was almost unbearable, she found Malleus on the outskirts of Ramshackle. He was there, like a majestic shadow under the starry sky, the king of the firmament, an imposing force that always seemed on the verge of consuming everything.

“Why do you think the stars stay there, so distant, instead of falling and disappearing?” he asked, his gaze fixed on the infinite. His voice was quiet, with an echo of melancholy that resonated in the cold night air.

She hesitated before answering. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because… they have nowhere else to go.”

For an instant, he wanted to say something, anything, to fill the void her words had left. But he didn’t. Because, although Malleus would never say it directly, there was something in his voice that seemed like an invitation. As if, in the midst of that immensity that always separated them, he was telling her that her light was enough, too, even if she didn’t see it yet. But there was always a chasm between them, a constant reminder that her light would never be as eternal as his.

The weight of all those glances, of all those words, was building up in her chest as if an invisible hand was squeezing her heart. It had been a long journey, one filled with unforgettable moments, but also marked by a loneliness that no one seemed to notice. Memories of each interaction passed through her mind like a cruel parade. She forced herself to breathe deeply, her trembling hands touching the window glass as her eyes sought solace in the stars again. Yet her mind, treacherous, found one last wound to open. One sentence, cold and implacable, echoed in her memory like a definitive sentence:

“There is no place in this world where this soul belongs. NONE.”

The words of the Mirror echoed in her mind, an irrevocable sentence that pierced her heart with the precision of a dagger. She had wanted to prove him wrong. She had tried to fit in, tried to find a place among the people she had come to love and admire, even as each interaction reinforced the truth she so feared. The thought cut through her like a knife, and with it came a single certainty: her presence here had never been wanted. She was no heroine, no savior. She was just a nobody who had fallen into this world at the whim of a mirror.

The sentence continued to echo in her head, stealing the air from her lungs. Her chest tightened, her throat closed, and before she could stop herself, tears began to flow from her eyes. The crying began as a silent tremor, a muffled gasp as she buried her face in her hands. She covered her mouth, desperate not to wake Grim, her little companion, who slept peacefully in the bed. Cruel irony that he, her faithful friend, was not there to notice the sadness of his henchman. The same sadness that she had always hidden behind a smile and an ill-timed joke. Her breathing was irregular, ragged by the effort to contain the sobs that threatened to break the silence of the night. The world seemed to have shrunk to that small corner of her bedroom, where only the stars were witnesses to her vulnerability. Sometimes, she felt as if her heart were a dying star, flickering weakly in the vast darkness of the sky. Always present, but barely noticeable among so many other, brighter lights, beautiful in its light, but always seeming to be just a heartbeat away from going out.

The crying continued, each tear falling in a desperate, muffled silence. For once, she couldn't even find solace in the stars. Only curses. She cursed her weakness, her loneliness, but most of all, she cursed the day that damn mirror had made her fall into Twisted Wonderland.

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Banners created by miriamladyvoid© Feel free to use; please, reblog, and credit banners.

©Miriamladyvoid 2024. do not steal my work plz…☕︎

Language of the flowers of each Banner:

First Banner: Cyclamen: Resignation. Second Banner: Bramble, Rose: Envy. Third Banner: Lobelia: Splendid Misery.

[amirasainz]

Girl, I just listened to 'Oh qué sera' by Willie Colón and I can imagine Carlos dancing with his girlfriend to it at a restaurant or something. I love your stories so much and wanted to ask if you could write my request please😘🫠🥹

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💙

Dancing through the night

Carlos leaned back in his chair, casting a warm glance at Yn as she sipped her drink, a soft smile curling on her lips. They were out with some friends at a cozy little restaurant nestled on a quiet street. The laughter of their friends echoed around them, but in his eyes, there was only Yn. The dim lighting added a romantic charm to the evening, and he couldn't help but notice how stunning she looked in the soft glow of the candles on their table.

"You look beautiful tonight," Carlos said, his voice low but full of affection.

Yn smiled, her cheeks flushing. "You're just saying that because you want me to finish my food," she teased.

Carlos laughed softly and reached for her chair, pulling it slightly closer to his. "I want you close to me, not because of your food," he said, his hand gently resting on her thigh as he did. His fingers traced small circles on her skin, a gesture that made her feel warm and cherished.

Their friends, a mix of fellow drivers and their partners, were deep in conversation about the latest race, but Carlos and Yn were in their own little world. She reached over, stealing a bite of his steak, her eyes glinting with mischief.

"Hey! I was saving that!" Carlos chuckled, but his tone was playful. "Here," he said, cutting off another piece and offering it to her. "Let me feed you."

Yn raised an eyebrow but accepted the piece, her lips brushing his fingers in the process. She smiled up at him. "You spoil me, you know that?"

Carlos just shrugged, his eyes softening. "It's not spoiling when I enjoy doing it," he replied. "You deserve it."

They continued like this, sharing bites of food, laughing at inside jokes, and exchanging sweet glances. Every time their eyes met, Carlos felt his heart flutter like it had on the first day they met. Yn had a way of making everything feel right in the world.

As the evening progressed and their friends started heading off to other places, Carlos and Yn remained at the table. The restaurant had started to empty out, the noise settling into a more peaceful hum. It was just the two of them now, the quiet punctuated by soft conversations between the two, occasionally interrupted by the distant clinking of glasses.

Carlos looked around, sensing the change in atmosphere. He reached over, squeezing Yn’s hand, which was resting on the table. "Hey," he said softly. "What do you say we stay a little longer, just the two of us?"

Yn met his gaze, her heart warming at the thought. "I’d like that."

As they sat there, savoring the peacefulness, a new song began to play over the restaurant's speakers, the familiar tune immediately catching Carlos's attention. His eyes lit up as the first few notes of "Oh Qué Será" by Willie Colón filled the air. He knew immediately it was Yn’s favorite song.

Without missing a beat, Carlos stood up and extended his hand toward her with a playful grin. "May I have this dance, my lady?"

Yn’s eyes sparkled with delight. "Here? Now?" she asked, her voice full of excitement.

Carlos nodded, his smile never wavering. "Of course. No better time than now."

Yn’s face broke into a wide grin as she placed her hand in his. He helped her to her feet, leading her out of their seat and onto the small dance floor that had been empty up until now. The soft lights above them made the moment feel like something out of a dream. The song was a slow salsa, and Carlos immediately pulled her close, his hand resting lightly on her waist while his other held her hand. Yn placed her other hand gently on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his touch.

They moved together, the music flowing through them as they swayed to the rhythm. Carlos's fingers lightly brushed her back, sending shivers down her spine. He loved how easily they fit together, as if they were two puzzle pieces.

"You know," Carlos murmured as he twirled her gently, watching as she laughed, her eyes sparkling. "I could twirl you all night long."

Yn laughed, her voice light and musical. "You're just saying that because you know I can't stop giggling when you do."

"Exactly," he teased, grinning as he spun her around again, watching her smile grow wider. He loved hearing her laugh—especially when it was because of him.

They danced, spinning and swaying, laughing at their own clumsy movements as the song picked up a little, but always staying close to one another. Carlos would pull her back in whenever she wandered too far, always with a gentle smile and a soft laugh of his own. Each time they came together, their gazes locked, and the world outside seemed to fade away.

As the music slowed, Carlos pulled her closer, his arms wrapped securely around her. He rested his forehead against hers, his breath warm on her skin. "I love you," he whispered, his voice full of sincerity.

Yn's heart skipped a beat at the words. She placed her hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under her fingers. "I love you too," she replied, her voice just as quiet and filled with emotion.

They stayed like that, dancing slowly, their movements almost imperceptible, as if time had no meaning in that moment. The song ended, but neither of them wanted to let go. Carlos continued to hold her close, and Yn leaned her head on his chest, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart, a comforting reminder of the love they shared.

"You know," Yn said softly, still in his arms, "this is the best part of the night."

Carlos grinned, his thumb gently stroking her back. "I agree," he said, kissing the top of her head. "But we’ve got all the time in the world for more moments like this."

And as they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the world outside seemed far away. There was no rush, no place they needed to be—just the two of them, sharing a moment of quiet, gentle love.

[starmocha]

i'm on the run with you, my sweet love [Sylus/Reader ★ 3737 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Forever your ride or die. A/N: Happy New Year! I’ve had this story written since Christmas 2024, but I had decided to save it to ring in the new year instead. Kind of based on my favorite Sylus phone call: As You Wish. This is…very………vague…….something…… I’m here for the vibes mostly. :’) Tag list: @miudle @alfredosaws @nezukoo-channn @voidsylus @rose-tinted-kalopsia @valkyyriia 【 request to be added 】

When everything came to a pause, when the whole world had shifted and all eyes were on you, a bounty had been placed on your head and your name suddenly known to the whole universe.

He had whisked you away, his hand in yours, no questions asked.

Where you go, I’ll go with you, he had said, his hold firm, his vow unyielding.

It’s not safe with me. They’ll get you, too, you had warned, giving his hand a little squeeze, almost afraid that you would lose him as well.

Sounds exciting, sweetie.

He had smirked, his lips on yours, a promise that nothing would ever sever his bond with you.

Your arms wrapped around his waist, head pressed to his back, and the sound of his motorcycle raced down the dusty road to nowhere. A trail of dust was left behind, the heat of the sun bore down on you, and the unknown future awaited both of you in the distance.

On the way to the end of the world, you said goodbye to what you had once thought was home, all of the people who had ever loved you were gone.

Except him.

Are you crying?

…No…

Let me hold you. For me.

…Okay…just for you, though…

Thank you, sweetie.

In an unassuming shabby safehouse, one of many he owned around the world, you felt a moment of peace, as false as it may be.

He paced the living room, exhaustion etched on his features. He still hadn’t adjusted to this daytime schedule, and though not a word of complaint or discomfort ever left his lips, you knew he had been pushing himself to his limits to keep you safe.

Sylus, you called, worried, come rest.

He reassured you with a smile, a near perfect façade had it been anyone else he was trying to fool. You knew when he would put on a mask, and you didn’t like it—you were upset that he was lying to you for your sake.

I’m tired, you fibbed, Can we nap together?

Strange how you didn’t feel any qualms about lying for his sake instead. You supposed you were a hypocrite.

Very well. He seemed to concede. What a fussy kitten.

There was no malice in his words. There never were.

You guided his head to your lap, his body barely fitting on the small sofa, but it would do. You stroked his hair, seeing him surrendering to his exhaustion—surrendering to you, as well.

You hummed a song, something light and soothing. His soft snoring soon joined your melody, the two sounds bringing life to this long unoccupied house.

For a moment, this unassuming, shabby safehouse almost felt like a home.

It would be nice to make this place a true home with him, you thought. Some fresh flowers, a little sunlight, and maybe a picture or two could help with the illusion.

Such wishful thinking. You knew in a few days you would both need to leave. This was only temporary.

You needed to go farther—to the place where everything was new and you were nothing more than an unknown drifter seeking something permanent.

For now, though, you both rested. You let your song soothed him, just as his presence had given you hope.

You often wondered what permanent looked like. You also wondered if you and he had the same definition for the word. There were more idle times now than before, so you both humored one another with your own thoughts and whims.

A little cottage in the woods, you thought aloud as you and he lazed about on the couch. You could have a little vegetable garden, and maybe you could also learn how to make your own bread as well.

He could hunt, or perhaps, he could also put his fishing skills to use.

You might even raise chickens. Maybe some ducks, too.

Sweetie, you have it all planned out, he teased, pinching your cheek.

You swatted his hand away, but you couldn’t deny this. You had thought about this life. Thought about it often, in fact. You couldn’t help it. It seemed you had more time to let your mind wander.

Well, you weren’t alone. He also had his own thoughts, his own vision he wished to share.

A seaside house on a cliff, he suggested, adding, We could watch dolphins from the balcony. And have a gin fizz or two.

You laughed and shook your head. What, no tequila?

Tequila can be for breakfast, he added, matching your humor with the same tone and a playful smirk.

We could also have a hot tub on the deck, he added with a lecherous smirk on his handsome face. A nice soak as we watch the sun set over the horizon.

Yeah? Your heart beat faster, his lips looming near yours.

We could also stargaze together, he continued in that same easy tone. So teasingly close, his lips just barely ghosted against yours. He must be doing this on purpose, wanting to see you fluster and squirm because of him. What a scoundrel.

You have it all planned out, you echoed his earlier words back to him, his immediate response that nearly insufferable trademark smirk of his. You caved in first, eagerly taking his lips, wanting to quell the growing heat between the two of you.

He succumbed to your whims, his back suddenly against the couch cushions, your body on top of his. He answered your desperation with his own, all lucid thoughts leaving as you both submitted to your instincts, letting your desires guide you both to Heaven and Hell and back again.

An apartment in the city.

In the city? Again, sweetie?

What better place than hidden in plain sight?

A clever kitten.

You remembered wining and dining under starry skies. The rich food filled your belly wonderfully and the aged wine tasted like the sacred nectar of the gods. Blissfully tipsy, you remembered dancing with him on a rooftop, swaying and twirling, feeling like you were on cloud nine as the stars above shined brilliantly while city lights twinkled and gleamed.

In a humid, cramped bus, you leaned against his shoulder, remembering distant memories that might as well just be silly old fairy tales.

The days blended together. Most days, you weren’t sure if it was Monday or Tuesday, or perhaps it was neither, and it was actually Thursday.

He had acquired a car. Temporary, just like everything else in your life had been these past few months. As he filled the car with gas, you wandered into the convenience store. That particular scent hit you instantly, a strange feeling of nostalgia for something you had never missed.

You wandered down the aisles, hand skimming over the different snacks on display. None of them really caught your eyes or stirred up a craving, but you still picked out a few just in case. As you were checking out, you also grabbed an ice cream bar. The heat was unbearable and a strawberry shortcake bar suddenly sounded enticing. You missed the taste of fresh fruits, something that you never thought would one day be scarce and a sudden luxury.

As you left the store, ice cream bar unwrapped and the refreshing, cooling sweet taste on your tongue, you remembered the time when you and he went to pick strawberries together.

He had already finished refilling the gas tank. As he leaned against the car waiting for you, sunglasses over his eyes, you approached him, holding the cold treat up.

Want a bite?

He smirked, and took a generous bite to your dismay.

H-hey! That was a big bite!

Sorry, sweetie. He didn’t sound apologetic at all. What a prick.

I hope you get brain freeze.

And he laughed, already getting back into the car with you following suit. When you turned to buckle your seatbelt, his hand was on your cheek, already guiding you to his lips. He kissed you sweetly, nibbling on your lips as he tasted you.

When he parted, he smirked at your confusion, your breathing still shaky.

You had ice cream on your lips, he answered matter-of-factly.

Flustered, it took your brain a few seconds too long to register his mischievous words. When it finally clicked, you leaned back over, this time surprising him as you took charge. You kissed as if it was your last, as if he was the air that you needed, and he responded with equal fervor, treating you like a gift bestowed upon him by the highest being, or perhaps more like a forbidden treasure he had greedily coveted. Before the growing lust could cloud your mind, all semblance of reality returned when you heard the incessant honking from the car behind you, and had he been in a sour mood, perhaps there would have been an altercation, one that would end horrendously for the other party, of course.

But he smirked. He leered at the car behind him before speeding off. As he drove, you noticed him licking his lips.

Strawberry, he said, pondering, We should get this ice cream bar again.

You agreed, delighting in the taste of him that still lingered on your lips.

All thoughts disappeared, all of those dirty matrasses from dingy motel rooms didn’t seem to matter. You would always welcome him into you, the late, long nights of lovemaking a sweet escape from the reality you lived. In these little moments of you and him, he was your whole world and you were his. Deep kisses branded your skin, the heated moans of you and him mingled with every movement, every pulse, the need to chase after that paradise heightened by the shared growing passion.

You had memorized his every feature, his every being. The jewel-like crimson eyes of his always reflecting his deep devotion to you, the promise to always surrender to you had long been fulfilled. With every searing hot touch, he worshiped you like a devout man knelt at the altar of a goddess, beseeching her blessings.

He satisfied all of your needs, your desires his to fulfill, willingly and devotedly. No rules to bind you, nothing more to lose, you succumbed to your desires, drifting off to a state of pure euphoria only he could bring you to, just as you were all that he longed for, the only one who he would let rule his heart and bring him to his knees.

When you returned from your high, with the threat of dawn looming, he held you close, gentle fingers threading through your hair soothingly, his warm, deep voice feeling like home.

He lulled you with words of a distant future.

Maybe…we can get a dog.

You laughed. You don’t seem like a dog person, you reminded him, your finger poking his cheek in jest.

He smiled, and grabbed your wrist. He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, the simple act had you stilling with pretty rosy cheeks, illuminated in the dark by a single ray of moonlight.

A cat then, he said, his voice teasing. He stroked your cheek, his fingers just barely skimming against your skin. Maybe two, so she wouldn’t be lonely.

Yeah? you asked, breathless, What else?

He hummed as he contemplated. White picket fences…Have coffee ready for you in the morning…red checkered blanket and a picnic under the sun…

It doesn’t sound like you… you quipped.

It could be me, he responded, his hand moving to tuck strands of hair behind your ear, his soft voice continuing, It could be us. And also—

His words stopped abruptly, sparking your curiosity. You questioned him, but he only answered with an ambiguous smile and a dismissive, amused shake of his head, as if what he was thinking was nothing of importance to dwell further.

It’s late, he whispered, kissing your forehead, Sleep, my beloved.

As you settled more comfortably into his embrace, you felt his hand resting over your lower abdomen, the touch unlike any other time he would embrace you. As your heavy eyelids closed, you realized the words he had withheld, the hopeful future even he seemed too scared to voice into existence.

In your dream, you could have sworn you heard the pitter-patters of small feet on hardwood floor, and his voice full of joy as he effortlessly swept up into his strong arms two little children, a boy and a girl, perfect blends of you and him.

Such a shame that it was only a dream, you thought the morning after in bed as you watched him shaved the five o’ clock shadow from his face in the dirty motel bathroom.

In the mirror reflection, he noticed you sitting up in bed, the cover barely covering your nude body, hair in disarray, and he smiled. You smiled back.

Such a shame indeed, you thought again, feeling a strange ache in your chest as your mind drifted back to the little boy and girl in your dream.

It was amazing how you still had an appetite.

Eggs and bacon seemed extra delicious at diners in the middle of nowhere. As if stuck in time, it looked nothing like the modern eateries you were familiar with. Black and white checkered flooring, large red booths, an old barely working jukebox in a corner—everything seemed like it was untouched by modern advancements, living peacefully in its own world of idle monotony.

As you finished your meal, he stood up, walking over to the ancient jukebox out of curiosity.

He perused the song choices, brows furrowed in contemplation before he settled on one:

In the still of the night / I held you / Held you tight.

Your head lifted at the smooth crooning, eyes meeting his just as he walked back to the booth, his hand extended to you. Silently, a little embarrassed, you took his hand, just like you always seemed to do.

Promise I’ll never / Let you go.

He twirled you around before his hand found your waist, steadying you as he moved you to the rhythm of the music. In the near empty diner, you danced with him, remembering a time long ago, you two had also waltzed just like this.

To keep your precious love.

Your head rested against his chest, his arms around you as he swayed you gently to the music as it faded to silence. Even long after the song had ended, you stayed in his arms, holding firmly onto the one constancy you still held from your past.

Things could get worse.

I’ll be there every step of the way.

An old television set, from decades ago, flashed for an instance a photo of you. Without words, he had dropped a generous amount of bills on the table, his hand already reaching for yours and taking you away before anyone could be wiser.

By the time the waitress had come to clear the table, her tired mind suddenly realizing as she looked from the television back to the empty booth, the young couple had already left town. Discreetly, she tucked away the extra bills into her bra, and resumed her monotonous day, blissfully ignorant and a few hundred dollars richer.

In an old convertible from long ago, driving down an endless, deserted road, you woke up in the passenger seat to his—peculiar—singing alongside the car radio:

No matter what you are / I will always be with you / Doesn’t matter what you do, girl.

You giggled and he turned to look at you momentarily before his eyes redirected to the long road ahead. The radio continued to play the song as you and he conversed:

You’re actually laughing at me, he quipped. You’re so cruel, sweetie.

With you, you corrected him cheekily.

Funny, I wasn’t aware that I was laughing.

You were, you insisted audaciously.

In that case, laugh with me then, sweetie.

You giggled again. I don’t know this song.

His eyes remained ahead, but his right hand reached over to rest on your thigh. He squeezed you gently in reassurance, and as the song neared the end, he sang along again, Ooh girl, you girl, want you.

The radio played the next song, but you settled in your seat, his hand still resting on your thigh and you hummed again the previous song before the gentle drive lulled you back to sleep again. As your consciousness faded away, you heard distantly his voice singing the current song:

So sleep, silent angel, go to sleep / Sometimes / All I need is the air that I breathe / And to love you.

The time that passed made the line between reality and dream blurred. The life you lived, running away with him felt more dreamlike with each passing day as you bounced from old motels to grand estates to the most discreet safehouses he owned. Nothing in either of your life felt permanent right now, except for each other, the only constancy in this reckless fleeing.

You had both discarded your names, only taking them back at night when you were both truly alone, feeling like two lost souls abandoned by the universe. In the dark, you moaned each other’s name, such lovely sounds as warm breath ghosted over slicked skin.

Your hands lightly touched his face, his eyes always locked with yours. Your shuddering gasps and his barely-restrained moans followed in suits as his hands gripped tighter your hips, guiding you up and down on his length. You kissed him, crying as he pierced you again and again, his movements rushing as he felt you nearing your release.

…I can’t…I need to…Sy…please…please…

Hngh…ye-yes…

He was panting, his eyes darkened by the heavy arousal of seeing you, his beloved, falling apart for him—because of him. You arched forward into him, his name spilling out from your lips and pleasure coursed through your entire being. With a few more rushed thrusts, his own release came, his deep groans resonated in your ears as he filled you full.

Collapsed on him, you both rested lazily together with his softened member still inside you and his seed dripping obscenely down your thighs. You hummed into his skin, boneless and satisfied, his warmth so familiar and addicting.

Just two nobody’s in the world, but in this moment, it felt like no one else existed and you were both truly the last of your kind.

How heavenly.

Away, away, you ran from town to town, the final destination only a vague dream. The further you ran, the lighter your heart felt. In his eyes, the bird that was caged was now soaring high. His only wish was to save her before her wings were clipped, and now he would follow her wherever she would take him, her song beckoning him to a paradise for two.

Don’t let go.

Sweetie, you’re stuck with me for life.

Higher and higher, you soared, the sun threatening to scorch your wings.

If you fall, you knew he would be there to catch you. So, you continued to fly, your hand outstretched. All of Heaven would be yours to command. You were going to unlock paradise, a place for two kindred spirits, the last of their kinds, forevermore tethered to one another.

Eventually, the dream came to an end, life catching up within a flash.

You had grown a little careless, believing that you were just a nobody drifting through life, forgetting that there was still a hefty bounty to your name.

Someone had seen your face. Someone had snitched. You wondered if they truly believed you were dangerous, or perhaps it was merely just human greed that drove them to expose you. You supposed it didn’t really matter in the end now. It was all over anyway.

You looked to him, and he to you. A silent exchange of words, an understanding reached.

The distant sirens grew louder and louder as they approached your final hideout.

There was banging outside the motel room, scattered voices calling for your surrender. There would be no negotiation. It wouldn’t matter if they dragged your dead body out instead. On command, a red laser dot maneuvered into the room from the open window, aligning to your head. Your heart was racing, but you stayed grounded, your eyes locked on his.

In just seconds, everything was about to change.

Five.

Four.

Do you trust me? he asked, his hand held out.

With my life, you answered automatically, your hand in his, and with a tug, you were pulled into his familiar warmth, safe and secured as a gunshot sounded and the glass window shattered. His large hand pressed your head gently to his chest, shielding you from the sounds, and just like that, you both left this world behind, disappearing into the swirls of red and black mist he had summoned before the motel door came crashing down.

One.

The end.

Somewhere, in another place, in another time, you woke up to clear blue skies, white picket fences, the smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen, and you heard his laughter mingling with the sweet giggles of two little children.

You hummed pleasantly into your pillow, the sounds of footsteps getting louder and louder until the bedroom door opened. The bed shifted, his heavy weight on you, and your children’s assaulting kisses stealing away your breath and laughter.

Joyful tears brimmed your eyes, your belly aching tremendously from helpless laughter, and your heart at peace as he gazed down at you, his love steadfast and true.

It was almost nine in the morning, but you stayed lounging in bed, surrounded by all that mattered to you. Your children snuggled close to you on either side, your one free hand reached out for his, his hold ever familiar and constant.

His smile mirrored yours, the same devotion in his eyes just like long ago when he took this same hand and whisked you away, running and running until you found your home again at the end of the world.

His thumb caressed yours, his honeyed voice a sweet lullaby. I love you.

And you smiled back. I love you more.

He laughed, surrendering once more to you, always for you.

The past seemed distant, the future too far away. Cradled in the present, in this instance, the world seemed at peace again, and life moved on.

[respectthepetty]

Reading the (Visual) Rainbow Awards 2024

2023 was the first time I gave these awards, so I'm excited to deliver my 2024 version to the QLs that gave the best visual narratives this past year. In order to be considered for these awards, the series 1) had to air during 2024, and 2) had to finish airing by December 31, so out of the 114 QLs I watched this year, 13 are still ongoing and cannot be considered for these awards. Out of the remaining 94 QLs, 69 had some degree of consistent color coding

*For reference, in 2023, I watched 108 QLs, 14 were still ongoing, and 67 had consistent color coding.

Now for the ceremony to begin!

Petty Award: Last Twilight, Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo, and Spare Me Your Mercy

This award goes to a show or shows that had great visual narratives but I refuse to write about it because I'm petty, and these shows know what they did to me!

I've aired my grievances with these shows plenty, so now they can officially join last year's winners, Only Friends and I Feel You Linger in the Air, plus several other series in my Grudge Garden. May beauty bloom from the cruel love you gave me.

Stats Awards [These awards are based solely on numbers]

Most Popular: Black Brooder

This award goes to the color that was most popular in a pair, number-wise.

The stats: A Black Brooder was part of a color-coded pair 27 times in 2024. 2023’s was a Blue Boy with 26. The next color-coded boy in 2024 was a Blue Boy who was part of 21 pairs. 2023's was a Black Brooder who was part of 15 pairs.

The Best Black Brooder was Happy of the End’s Haoran. The show explicitly stated he was mysterious, secretive, and seductive which are all key characteristics of a Black Brooder. He had a dark past that haunted him and the narrative the entire show, so the black color appropriately emphasized the darkness within him. Even at the very end, he was lighter in his life, but it did not take away from what he went through to get that little bit of happiness and color. Haoran is the epitome of a Black Brooder, and that’s why he deserves the title of "Best Color-Coded Character of the Year."

Most Popular Pair: Light x Dark

This award goes to the color-coded pair who were used the most in the year, number-wise.

The stats: The Black x White dynamic won in 2023 with 12 couples, but in 2024 this dynamic almost doubled by being used 22 times. No other color-coded pair came close.

The Best Light x Dark Couple: Myung Ha x Yeo Woon from Love for Love’s Sake perfectly represent why this dynamic is needed, yet it wasn’t clear why until midway through the series. Black Brooder Myung Ha was sent into a game to save Heavenly Human Yeo Woon, but as the story unfolded, we realized that Myung Ha was the one who needed to be saved by his Heavenly Human and for a very good reason which adds to his dark color. The colors were there the entire time, yet the reveal of why those were the colors still shocks me almost a year later.

The Outlier: Wandee Goodday

This award goes to a series that delivered a colored-coded pair that no other series did.

When this show was first announced, I was elated that I was getting a Yellow Yal x Purple Person pairing which had yet to be done, and my excitement only grew throughout its airing. Even though I didn’t get the proper color exchange I dreamed of at the end, the show had outstanding visual rhetoric (bunny x tiger, anyone?), and it gave me a pair comprised of complementary colors, so it deserves this award for doing something different, and doing it well.

Visual Rhetoric Awards

Honorable Mention - Peaceful Property

This award goes to a series that had a great visual narrative but could not be considered for these awards because it wasn't marketed as a QL (even though it's canon to me).

The show’s “Cok Long” sign alone would have received a visual rhetoric award, but the characters were also color coded and gay af. The dance pose for love. The steak in the shape of a heart. The food in general! Home dreaming of Peach in bed to comfort him. The tears and strings in the hospital tying them together. The stories about Thansai x Ride and Vicha x Phoom!!!! The color exchanges! This show used all the visuals to bury the lead, literally and figuratively, and dealt with people facing the ghosts who haunt them in an unexpected and tender way, so it was a show with a lot of heart and the visuals to back it up.  

Best Boundary/Barrier/Bars - My Stand-In

This award goes to a series that best displayed an internal conflict with a physical barrier between the two leads.

This show’s visual rhetoric skills were vicious. I was personally attacked every time Joe’s back was only shown. I was shaking in rage each time Joe and Ming were shown behind bars, with barriers between them, and with Joe being lower than Ming. But nothing hurt more than when Joe 2.0 finally gave into Ming, and we visually saw Joe’s body split in two. Previous to that moment, they were each standing on opposite sides of the line, then slowly, Ming pushed Joe against the glass leaving Joe exposed to the world, so he could focus on Joe’s back, and the line was right there to show us that nobody was fully in that moment. They were both in their bodies, yet out of them. They were in the present, but also in the past. They wanted this, and simultaneously were disgusted. They were conflicted, and that line cut right through them. And me.

Best Balance - Jack & Joker

This award goes to a series that best used the scene to outline the balanced dynamic between the leads.

In a hospital room, standing in between the light and dark curtains, next to the red couch and the blue bed, two color-coded boys hashed it out and showed the audience why balance is always needed in a relationship. Jack became darker because he shouldered everyone’s burdens, yet there was Joke begging Jack to let him carry some of his sorrow and relieve him of his darkness. Then, the black and white colors and those dual smiling/frowning faces were right there to reinforce what Joke was saying — We need Yin & War Yang.

Best Background (Noise) - Marahuyo Project

This award goes to a series that best used the background details to strongly reinforce the ongoing plot.

It was a story about sea creatures that beautifully connected to the overall queer theme of the story, and King (of the sea) wore several sea-themed items. The show also focused on trans acceptance and solidarity with all characters wearing the trans flag colors at one point in the show, and the use of butterflies to signify the harsh yet necessary transformation we must experience to become better versions of ourselves. Oh, and the religious icons! Basically, this show did not waste one moment of its screen time, and it’s a feast for the eyes because of it.

Best Use of Clothing - 7 Days Before Valentine

This award goes to the series that made the best use of clothing to show the evolving dynamic between the leads.

Sun, the main character, was 🎶The Worst🎶 when this story began. The show looked the audience in the face and said that man was the devil with his horns and black and red outfits. Then, an actual demon showed up, in white! After that, this demon took on more of Sun’s darkness as an act of salvation while the demon’s clothing transitioned from white to gray then black. In the end, the demon was actually an angel who needed to see that redemption was possible for his own sake. It was a story about how nobody is really good or bad and how people deserve a second chance, which was a consistent theme in most QLs this year, and beautifully highlighted in this show.

Colors Awards

Best Color Exchange - My Love Mix-Up (Thailand)

This award goes to a series where the leads were color coded and switching their colors demonstrated more than their love being mutual.

The original Japanese version of this show is one of the best color-coded BLs and features the best color exchange EVER in the form of a well-lit kiss, so I was watching the Thai version with a critical eye. The Thai show had the pink = love moments and other subtle visual rhetoric, plus it included the traditional color merge of Kongthap’s blue with Atom’s developing yellow into green which they both wore for their first kiss. The show was following all the normal steps, but at the very last moment, after the boys decided their love was worth the fight and came out to their parents in teary confessions, they met in the place it all began merging Kongthap’s blue and Atom’s strong orange into a couple’s brown and kissed, and I have never been happier seeing the color brown as a symbol of love.

Best Kiss - Only Boo!

This award goes to the series that best used a kiss to support the color narrative of the story.

This show had no competition in this category. Its only competition was itself. Every kiss either was color-coded, included the Blinding Light of Love, created a color exchange, formed a color merge, or was lit with the Pink = Love lighting. Every. Single. Kiss! So this award isn’t for just one kiss, but all the kisses in the series, but the grand kiss in the finale had the boys in their respective colors, kissing under a pink light, while their colors were part of the background decorations as everyone cheered around them, and It. Healed. Me.

Best Red (Thread of Destiny) - Unknown

This award goes to the series that best used the color red to symbolize two characters being connected by fate.

Century of Love, a story of lovers meeting again a century after tragically parting, gave Unknown good competition in this category, but ultimately the story of two kids finding family in each other and building a life together is the winner, and it’s all because of that damn red railing! The red was there when Qian fed Yuan on the street, and the moment Qian wrapped Yuan’s hands in the red boxing tape, he secured the bond between them. However, the scene where Yuan stood at the bottom of the stairs before leaving the house felt like the connection was severed as he walked out the door leaving a dark room behind only for the camera to slowly move up the red railing to reveal Qian standing at the top of the stairs looking at Yuan’s room. They were still connected, and I’m still emotional about it.

Best Pink - Bad Guy, My Boss

This award goes to the series that best used the color pink to demonstrate the love between two characters.

This was the most competitive category in 2024, and Deep Night with its pink poly dream held the top spot for most of the year until this ridiculous Wattpad BL entered the group chat and crushed everyone with this single shot. In the show, Run was basically being manipulated into a relationship with Fei Long for ~evil reasons~ that included an incarcerated brother, a ploy to gain more power, and an ex-boyfriend, yet the pink kept showing up around Run until it surrounded both of them. And it was the softest pink. It was slightly surprising that they did both genuinely love each despite the circumstances, but it was even more shocking just how kind that love actually was. They might have been crazy for that, but they were also crazy in love!

Best Rainbow - 1,000 Years Old

This award goes to the series with the best use of a rainbow.

Pun was a dark-color coded vampire, and Yo was the colorful human he fell in love with, yet Yo thought that Pun brought color to his life. Before Pun showed up, Yo was lost in the world chasing aliens with his friends, but once Yo encountered Pun at a pork blood soup stand, both their lives became filled with adventures that were revealed to be centuries in the making, and Pun’s rainbow umbrella symbolized the whimsical nature of their relationship. Both brought color to the other’s life. In every life.

Best Heart - 4 Minutes

This award goes to a series that best represented love by using a tangible item to symbolize a heart.

Color-coded boys in love deserve color-coded plushies to represent their love. Great was white-color coded, and Tyme was black-color coded, so when they went on their adorable arcade date, the color-coded cat plushies with hearts on their sides were the perfect prize to celebrate the guys’ developing feelings for each other. However, the date never really happened and instead was part of Great’s redo timeline as his heart was dying after being shot. And somehow, that made it even better! In his last moments, all Great wanted was for Tyme to keep winning his heart over and over again, and Great would have given it to him, again and again. In another life, he’d enjoy just playing a claw game with Tyme.

Best Accessory - Addicted Heroin (Thailand)

This award goes to a series that best used a color-coded accessory to support the ongoing plot.

Everything in this show was color coded from the cotton swabs to the nail clippers, but the series wins this award for The Audacity™. In any version of this story, Hero’s character is going to be batshit bananas, but in the Thai remake, the show decided to include color coding in the craziness. When Hero had Pop(py) kidnapped, Hero tied him up with color-coded green rope because even as Hero had taken his boyfriend hostage in the dumbest turn of event, he needed to prove he knew Pop’s color was green. But not only did Hero do that in the show, the folks behind the show, who seemed determined to be wilder than the show itself, started selling figurines of the moment! It’s meta, but like really bad, which means I LOVE IT!

Best Blinding Light (of Love) - Deep Night

This award goes to the series that best used a blinding light to emphasize the overwhelming feeling of being in love.

Deep Night had several amazing moments using the Blinding Light of Love, but Wela and Khem had liked each other since the first episode, so this moment visually presented what it felt like for them to realize it actually might be something more. They were nestled between the pink of the club lights with the window bathing them in the streetlight; then, the light from outside became blinding as Khem admitted to being jealous and wanting to be something more with Wela. It truly was the point Khem realized he was deeper than he thought, and for Wela to see that his feelings were real. It was a moment of lustful escape that turned into a moment of genuine love.

Best Lighting - The On1y One

This award goes to the series that best used lighting to support the story's narrative.

Using dark, cool lighting for the moon and bright, warm lighting for the sun are not new techniques, but the way The On1y One used those lighting treatments for its characters was a reminder that the professionals behind the scenes are truly experts in their field. In the first episode, Jiang Tian, the moon, emerged from the darkness of the street, and the warmth of Sheng Wang’s light cupped his face as he stood outside the gate. As they interacted, each retained their respective lighting, but slowly, slivers of the other’s lighting began to merge with their own until the audience could no longer tell where their individual light ended and the other’s began. And neither could the boys.

Best Cinematographer: Jim Picharn - I Saw You in My Dream, Jack & Joker

This award goes to the cinematographer who best supported the story through visuals without distracting from the ongoing plot.

In 2023, Jim of Dee Hup House was on the shortlist for this award due to him being the cinematographer for Thai BLs Step by Step, Hidden Agenda, and I Feel You Linger in the Air, and in 2024, he was back with I Saw You in My Dream and Jack & Joker. The reason he is getting this award now is because both his 2024 offerings looked completely different. Jim has a certain hazy and dreamy style to his cinematography which fit perfectly in I Saw You in My Dream’s narrative, but his style shifted to something harsher and a little bit grittier in Jack & Joker. There were still specific Jim elements in both pieces, but it was clearer how his style served the narratives in each story differently. Not only was it interesting to see, but it was also a beautiful addition to the stories being told in both shows, so I’m looking forward to what new visuals he will be gifting us with in 2025.

Best Surprise - The Trainee

This award serves as a catch-all for a series that delivered a color-coded surprise while still incorporating it well within the plot.

I am not egoistical enough to believe the folks behind these QLs are reading my little ol’ Tumblr blog, but I’m also not humble enough to rule it out as a possibility. Normally, I have to watch behind-the-scene specials, find translated interviews, or follow cinematographers’ and directors’ social media to get confirmation about colors, but in 2024, several shows simply posted the information on main! Two Worlds, Love is a Poison, Peaceful Property, and a few other shows openly stated how the colors were being used in the show, but The Trainee did the most and made graphics to announce the color coding of its characters and posted them on Twitter and Instagram! The graphics also featured key aspects of the characters’ personalities which aligned to their color. For eight weeks, I had been determined to prove that Jane was a loyal Blue Boy and Tae was a wise Brown Boy, and, magically, the show just looked at me one day and said I was right. I will never forget that rush, so in case someone who does work behind the scenes on these QL is reading my posts, thanks for the best present 2024 could have given me!

Best Group Effort - Pit Babe

This award goes to the series that best color coded a majority of its characters.

I watched this show with no sound, no subtitles, and no idea what the hell was happening. And yet the colors got me through! I might not have any clue who is the Alpha, Beta, or Santa Maria in this show, but I know who is red, blue, and royally evil because the colors were coloring the entire time! I cannot write more about this show because I still don’t really understand what it was about, but I am super excited to watch the second season the same exact way I watched the first — with the colors guiding me the whole way.

Best Consistent Color Coding - Chaser Game W

This award goes to the series that had the most consistent color coding throughout its run.

Two celestial maidens in a video game. Two penguins in a book. Two women in a toxic workplace romance. No matter what form the leads took in the show, they were color-coded in every version of their characters. They were part of the reason the Light x Dark pairing was the most popular in 2024, and in the first season, they exemplified that dynamic with kind Heavenly Human Itsuki being stuck working for her demanding Black Brooder ex-girlfriend Fuyu. Then, the second season gave us the women swapping clothes and colors as they became a more established couple. Even their daughter took part in the color-coded hijinks, and in the end, Itsuki and Fuyu found the balance in their work and their love life, together.  

Best Overall - Idol Factory

This award goes to the series that did it like nobody else to claim the ultimate prize.

I refuse to pit two bad bitches against each other, so that’s why both The Sign and The Loyal Pin get this award. And I’ll even throw the Factory’s third offering, My Marvellous Dream is You, into the mix because regardless of which show I write this about, Idol Factory gave me rainbows of colors every single time!

I didn’t just get the pink = 💕love💕lighting. I got the pink lighting getting more intense as the love between the two characters intensified.

I didn’t just get color-coded clothing. I got the patterns of the clothing showing each character’s personality, so when they started to swap patterns, it was obvious they were in love.

I didn’t just get color exchanges. I got color events with blinding lights of love, color exchanges, and color merges.

Basically, I got everything I wanted and more, so even though Idol Factory has only produced five shows, all of them have excelled in the colors and visual rhetoric department, and I’ll be patiently waiting for its 2025 (and 2026) shows to air because I know they will be visually stunning, as always.

Congrats, winners!

[captainpetebradshaw]

so i watched 2x22 "the wire" for the first time today and it was a near religious experience so you're getting my thoughts on it under the cut

I love how comfortable they've gotten with each other; talking books? disagreeing about books? garak asking if julian can't just use his status as a doctor to get them to skip the line?

"perfect health, huh??" julian is so offended by garak lying to him about his condition lol

"i'm a doctor, not a botanist" is this some kind of star trek tradition?

"why can't he just tell me what's going on?" "it sounds like you're taking this personally" "i suppose I am... It's just that garak and I have been having lunch together once a week for more than a year now" once a week?! for more than a year?!

and then julian angrily stabbing dax's plant in frustration. let it out.

unsure if quark called julian to come get the absolutely hammered garak from his bar because he's the doctor or because julian is literally the only social contact quark could think of for garak???

"i prefer to drink somewhere quiet" "quiet? excellent idea... we'll go to my quarters" "whatever you want. but first i must make a stop at the infirmary" guess garak wasn't drunk enough for that little trick

but he was drunk enough to not notice the bottle hand-off to quark

"make it stop, make it stop..." aww no, poor baby!

julian using his doctor credentials to basically break into garak's. guess they ended up in his quarters after all

"if i was ever tortured, [the implant] was designed to stimulate the pleasure centers of my brain to trigger the production of vast amounts of natural endorphins" i gotta say, that has some freaky fucked up potential for fanfics and i can't wait to see how often it has been appropriated in the last 30 years

"living on this station is torture for me, doctor. the temperature is always too cold. the lights are always too bright. every bajoran on the station looks at me with loathing and contempt" ah yes, the autism experience

"why don't you just shut the damn thing off?" julian, do they teach nothing about addiction in med school?

i had to rewind this scene a couple times because i was chanting "kiss! kiss! kiss!" in my living room and didn't listen to a word they said. the 4:3 aspect ratio is also doing its thing

"has it ever occured to you that i might be getting exactly what i deserve?" "no one deserves this" julian going from all that taunting and appealing to garak's pride to this???? unexpected softness incoming

garak telling this story about how he is responsible for so many people dying and julian just saying right now he's just concerned for his health and won't let him die??? "you need to turn that implant off and whatever withdrawal symptoms or side effects you may experience, i promise i'll help you through them" like this is insane. i assumed people shipped them for a reason (and lower decks made them "canon" for a reason) but i was LIVING watching this.

it also has to be said that andrew robinson is acting the ever living shit out of these scenes - fantastic

even odo can't get past protector mode chief medical officer doctor bashir

staying by his bedside? for hours???

shoulder touch denied!!!

it's wild, garak must be suffering so much in that moment but he's still spinning up some new potential backstory. maybe this time it's not a lie but we just don't know.

"and so they exiled you" "that's right! and left me to live out my days with nothing to look forward to but having lunch with you." "i'm sorry you feel that way. i thought you enjoyed my company." "oh i did! and that's the worst part. i can't belive that i actually enjoyed eating mediocre food and staring into your smug sanctimonious face. i hate this place and i hate you." "ok, garak." addicts do get just absolutely hateful so this sounds pretty spot on to me.

on a side note, i don't think i could have done lunch every week with julian. he is smug and he has a big ego and i relate to the other senior officers who were sometimes a little condescending in their reactions when he was boasting about something or other. but that's ok, i don't have to. garak enjoyed it, it seems.

garak: you still have to learn the truth julian: heart eyes motherfucker

"why are you telling me this, garak?" "so that you can forgive me. why else? i need to know that someone forgives me"

"i forgive you. for whatever it is you did" "thank you, doctor. that's most kind"

so julian goes and finds the guy who's kind of responsible for garak having that implant in the first place. it's also i think the first time julian acknowledges they are friends?

"how sick is garak?" "he's dying" "and you're trying to save him?" "that's right" "strange... i thought you were his friend?" "i suppose i am" "then you should let him die. after all, for garak, a life in exile is no life at all"

"thank you" "don't thank me. i'm not doing garak any favors. he doesn't deserve a quick death. on the contrary. i want him to live a long, miserable life. i want him to grow old on that station surrounded by people who hate him, knowing that he'll never come home again. "what a lovely sentiment" "and it's from the heart, i assure you" <- that made me laugh

we learn garak's first name!

he's well again! back to the regularly scheduled lunch date!

and he's got a new book recommendation for julian, how nice

"what i want to know out of all the stories you told me, which ones were true and which ones weren't" "my dear doctor, they were all true" "even the lies?"

"especially the lies"

smiley boys!

this ended up being more of a collection of my favorite quotes from the episode but that's fine with me. it's my post.

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

Soulmate Au

Yandere Shadowpeach x Reader

Enemies to lovers

Soulmates

Angst

Intro to the au!

You always knew that you had two soul mates., it was crystal clear for you. Between the dual flowers that grew whenever they would get hurt, the two types of writing on your skin, even the shared dreams you had. There was never just one, no there were two one who was a shadowy figure in your dreams and the other closer to being almost too bright.

When you were young you would talk to them in your dreams. You used to spend time sleeping just to catch a glimpse of them. However all of that stopped in its tracks the day you turned six. The day your father who was your mothers soul mate cheated on her and left her for another man.

Nothing could compare to the feeling of betrayal you felt. You thought that being soulmates with someone meant that you would be together forever, that it meant that the loyalty would never wane. Apparently it didn’t, ever since that day you didn’t care how many soulmates you had, they were merely strangers to you.

Strangers that didn’t have anything to do with you and would never catch sight of you. If you had anything to say about it.

That night you went to sleep with tears streaming down your face. You were so mad, so upset, your little mind wasn’t sure weather to scream or just cry. Your dad had just left two hours ago and your mother had spent that time trying to comfort you.

“But your soulmates!” You had yelled with a lisp in your tone.

“… I know sweetie, but… sometimes even soulmates don’t end up together. Life isn’t a fairytale and soulmates are merely strangers who are connected in many ways. That doesn’t mean they will or ever have loved you,” her words cut deep into your young heart.

Maybe it was her words, or maybe it was how your father had left. You couldn’t be sure but what you did know that day was you didn’t want to talk to anyone. Not even your two best friends as you entered your dreams.

"Rose!” a little bundle of light bound towards you followed by a slower and shyer ball of shadow.

You were enveloped in a hug, you could almost feel his warmth. If it had been before today you would have welcomed the hug with open arms. Now… he was a stranger, he didn’t care about you, life wasn’t some fairytale.

Your red cheeks still brimmed with tears were unseen because of the bond. Angrily you pushed the young boy away. He stumbled back falling to his butt, the little shadow running to catch him.

“Rose?” the words were so confused and sad, why did you push him away? You never pushed him away before.

“I don’t like you! Go away!” you were young, you didn’t know what to feel or what to do.

Soulmates were stupid, they made your mom cry. You didn’t like soulmates… Not anymore. You woke up crying in the middle of the night.

Neither of your soulmates took that news well.

“What did you do to her!?”

"I didn’t do anything… s-she left… what do we do-.”

“No what do I do!? I am getting my soulmate back!”

He was wrong. He never really saw her much after that. And while the shadow was still by his side, the temperamental child never thought that he was hurting too. Because of that all three children suffered the loss of a relationship that they had loved so much.

Your life was never the same. You developed insomnia from your newly wrecked sleeping schedule. You stopped doodling on your skin, a hobby that one of your soulmates shared more than the other. You stopped letting yourself get hurt, you didn’t need to burden your soulmates with your injuries, the flowers that were sure to bloom along the skin where you got hurt, if you weren’t going to ever meet them.

You didn’t need a soulmate let alone two. They still had each other, if they were desperate for companionship then they could go to each other. You told this to yourself several times, even so you couldn’t stop the dull ache at the thought of losing them. Even without knowing who or what they even were.

For a few years you would see them searching for you in your shared dreams, you would always hide no matter how often you’d hear them call for you. For their precious Rose, the flower that would bloom on their skin whenever you would get hurt. They didn’t need you, why did they call for you so often?

The writing on yours hands and chest never stopped, asking how you were. And the flowers, oh the flowers that showed you how reckless your sunflower was. Lavender was far more cautious but they too would get injured every now and then. Sunflower and Lavender the nicknames you gave the duo based on the flowers that bloomed along your skin whenever they would get hurt.

Sometimes every now and then you would think that maybe Lavender would hurt them self on purpose. But you shook the thought away surely that wasn’t true there was no reason for anyone to ever do that to oneself.

In middle school and high school the flowered were almost unbearable. You were constantly covered in lavenders and sunflowers. Both of them were constantly hurt, though you weren’t sure why. You could overhear their arguing whenever you would dream, they knew each other and seemed to hate each other. It only settled more how you three weren’t suited for each other, that’s what you told yourself at least.

Eventually nearing the end of high-school the fighting stopped. They started to talk again, they started to laugh and have fun together. Maybe they stood a chance together… you couldn’t be sure with how they normally acted though. You didn’t think that they would last.

The calling in your dreams eventually faded, the writing along your skin now a communication between the duo alone, even though the flowers never stopped they never stayed for long anymore. It appeared they found a way to not longer get hurt for as long or as often.

Now at the age of 20 years old you still refused to talk to them. But by this point they didn’t even try to call for you. Maybe it was because they realized how useless it was, or maybe they thought you were dead. You couldn’t be certain, it’s not like you were able to avoid every single nick and bruise that came your way.

It's not like it mattered, weather they didn’t want to talk or thought you were dead they stopped trying to talk to you just as much as you stopped talking to them.

>>>

“Yo dork! Are you going to stare into space all day?” Spirit’s voice called out to you catching you off guard. You shot to sit up instead of leaning on your hand like you had been.

“W-what!?” You stuttered as your roommate woke you out of your half sleeping state on your shared kitchen table. “Oh shoot, sorry. What was that?”

“I was asking if you were going to work today? It’s the weekend but I wasn’t sure of you were going to pick up some overtime hours,” She said as she set two cups of homemade iced coffee on the table.

You chugged the coffee as soon as you were offered it. She sat next to you dressed in an oversized shirt that reached her knees. At seven am she just woke up and since it was a Saturday she planned to rest and relax. One of you would have needed to go shopping if not for your Roommates Pigsy and Tang who owned the apartment.

They let you and Spirit move in since it was four bedrooms, as long as you paid for a small rent. It was a pretty good deal, the two were your friends for a while before they decided to buy a house together. Tang had found one that was a bit too pricy and asked if you’d help them out and you’d get your own room.

You agreed pretty quickly and moved into one of the rooms they didn’t use. Spirit came along later after she lost her own apartment when the building caught on fire thanks to her reckless neighbors. Something about the golden idiot being a moron, and something about a gang war, you never got the full story.

Then again at the time you met her you were more worried about getting her to the hospital. She had a large gash from her right shoulder blade to her left hip, it covered the majority of her back. The sight of it was gory and horrifying, you wished you never had to see it, but even more so you wished she never got it. Neither of those wishes came true though.

The reason you didn’t have to worry about the groceries is because Pigsy was fiercely protective over the kitchen. He bought all the groceries, and took care of most of the food. The only other person who was allowed to use the kitchen was you who baked something once a week, and even then you had to tell him what it was so he could make sure you got only the best ingredients. Overall it was a good deal for you, Spirit, Tang and Pigsy.

Tang and Pigsy were soulmates so they shared a bedroom and were a little bit too lovey dovey on your opinion. But you kept your mouth shut, they knew your opinions on soulmates and didn’t push you to find your own, as a sign of respect you didn’t bother with their relationship. It wasn’t as though all soulmates failed, it was simply that it wasn’t a guarantee. That’s what you told yourself at least.

“Oh, no not this weekend. I wanted to take a day or two off,” you half lied, you did want a day off, but in truth your boss Sandy said that he would send you home if you came in.

“Hmm… Sandy threaten you again?” she teased and your cheeks flushed before you nodded.

“Yeah, what about it?” You grumbled causing her to chuckle.

The short monkey demoness grinned as she drank her coffee. In front of her was a newspaper, something she looked at every week when they posted it. She preferred it to the TV news that Tang paid for. You didn’t know why but she did.

The two of you remained in silence when you felt the familiar feeling of pen writing along your skin. Elegant writing wrote on the palm of your hand and you glanced down at it. A list of groceries, you would need to wash it off. Getting up you walked over to the sink and started washing your hands once they were done writing. Wait that wasn’t a grocery list it was a coffee run. A black coffee and a crème filled donut with dark chocolate glaze. Eh, whatever it wasn’t your business.

When you were younger you’d wait for a while before washing it off, but you learned after meeting Tang and Pigsy that you could wash it off whenever you wanted. They explained that if you wanted to wash off it wouldn’t affect what they wrote on their own skin. Which was lucky for you so you didn’t have to worry about messing up their lists or plans.

“You got any plans today?” Spirit spoke up when she finished reading the newspaper.

“Probably going to take a nap, and maybe go get something to eat… don’t tell Pigsy I said that last part,” You shivered thinking about how angry the pig demon got when you got fast food.

“As if I would, you’d tell him about my own donut runs. You know how much he lectures me about eating donuts? A lot. I mean I exercise plenty, why judge my donut addiction. It’s better than drugs,” Spirit ranted as she gulped another large gulp of coffee into her mouth.

You chuckled. It was true, Pigsy was a stickler for healthy eating. He was always lecturing you and Spirit on the benefits of a healthy diet. Not that you were complaining too much, he made sure that you had tasty food in the house at all times. So you didn’t have to cook that often unless you wanted to. It was worth one or two of his short lectures.

“Anyways I was gonna try out that new coffee shop that opened two blocks from here. My co-worker was raving about their donuts being the best,” Spirit said with a goofy grin.

“Oh? Did you want company, it’s been a while since I’ve had donuts,” you replied, as much as you baked you could never get donut quite right. They always came out cakey which wasn’t bad, you just preferred light and fluffy donuts to the ones that had the texture of cake.

“Only if you want, you could definitely use the walk. It’s got plenty of sunlight,” Spirit teased and you rolled your eyes, she always wanted you to get sunlight because most of the time you were indoors. But a walk didn’t sound too bad.

“Let me get dressed and we can head out,” you said as you headed to your bedroom, there was no way you were going out in pajamas. Not today thank you.

On the way to your room you ran into a half asleep Tang who looked like he was dragged out of bed. Which wouldn’t surprise you, he loved to sleep in while Pigsy tended to drag him to work with him. Not that it did any good, Tang didn’t do much their. You thought maybe it was because Pigsy wanted the company but wasn’t sure since you never bothered to ask.

“You look awake,” You chuckled at his dismay.

He looked at you with a slight glare, before muttering, “I look better than you.”

You gasped dramatically, it wasn’t your fault that your soul mates slept at regular times. Seriously they took all the good sleeping hours but if you said that he’d just roll his eyes. He wasn’t ignoring and hiding from his ONE soulmate, no you didn’t have a regular sleeping schedule and that never changed.

So here you were dressed in pajamas, with large backs under your eyes and a slouched frame. You waved off the worried man as you entered your room, which was apparently the perfect time for you to yawn. You ignored your friend’s laughter as you slammed your door shut.

A sudden short pain shot through your neck, you looked in your mirror just in time to see a small trail of sunflowers decorate the side of your neck. They were small flowers and a thin trail, that told you it was a narrow and very shallow cut. Still you felt the faintest hint of worry for the reckless Sunflower.

@mehiwilldoitlater

@miifu666

@sleepingdramaqueen

@marcu-bug

I'm trying to start a taglist... I can't promise I'll have it for long. I'm not very good at remembering to tag 😅

Thoughts, opinions? I'd love to hear what yall think!

[simplyraeblue]

King and Captive

(Hunter and Hunted Spin-Off) read here

modern au a chance meeting with Sukuna quickly turns into a nightly routine you can't escape. as the lines between game and something more blur, you start to wonder—how long can you keep playing, or will Sukuna make you his next conquest? !Sukuna x !femreader

chapter warnings/tags: MDNI, NSFW, swearing, use of "princess", "she/her" pronouns used, mentions of OG story, appearance of other characters, SMUT SMUT SMUT, p in v, creampie, unprotected, Sukuna is a changed man afterwards (but really?) A/N: the time has COME my friends (heh, pun). so sorry it took me forever to post, the holidays have been insane with travel, and I was soaking up every second with my long-distance BF. someone in the OG storyline had commented that Sukuna needed someone to match his freak... well, they were right. (• ᴗ -)

index part four | part six

part five word count : 4,588

every day since your first kiss with him, without fail, Sukuna appeared parked out front of your work waiting for you. you weren’t sure if the satisfaction you felt was from seeing him leaned against his bike, or if it was the reactions of the dickwads you worked with.

“are you sure that’s safe?”

“does he have a motorcycle license?”

“what’s up with all that ink?”

you just brushed them off, tossing your hair over your shoulder as you practically skipped over to your mysterious tattooed man before receiving a warm welcome in the form of a deep kiss on the lips. to make it worse for your coworkers, they definitely saw Sukuna slip his tongue in your mouth as he side-eyed them.

bunch of heathens, he thought to himself. he knew the comments they made behind your back, the peaks they took at your ass, even could guess that they thought of you when they had nothing but their hand to give them comfort. pathetic.

and yet, he’d made no move to take things further than a few heavy make out sessions. maybe he was the pathetic one.

but all that would be put to the test tonight.

“a party?” you asked, twirling the straw in your glass around and around while Sukuna smirked at you. of course, had taken you to your usual bar to treat you after work - just like he did almost every day.

“my brother asked me to come, said I was required to bring a guest.” Sukuna was only partly lying – Yuji had asked him to come but never mentioned anything about bringing someone. but he knew you’d be just fine.

“I don’t know, aren’t we a little… old to be going?” you teased lightly but truthfully, you’d already accepted the invitation in your mind. “bunch of college kids, drinking and dicking around?”

Sukuna’s shoulder shook with a booming laugh. “if there’s no dicking around, then it’s not a party, princess.”

you couldn’t help but pout as the thought of who would be there crossed your mind. did you dare ask him? risk bringing up a sore subject?

he’d told you about what happened last summer, one night when you both had a few too many glasses of wine. Sukuna swore that wine was his truth serum. so now you knew that his former – lover, ex girlfriend, fling? – was dating his half brother Choso.

curiosity gnawed at your bones. was she pretty? hot? drop dead fucking gorgeous? how did you compare?

a light tap of Sukuna’s finger to your temple snapped your from your anxiety spiral. “what’s going through your mind?” he asked softer than usual, the change in his demeanor catching you off guard.

no, you couldn’t let yourself drown in what-ifs. “let’s do it. I owe you one.” you told him with finality, face set in determination as you downed the rest of your drink in one go before standing from your seat and pulling your jacket on.

Sukuna was curious why your attitude towards the idea suddenly changed; you were dead quiet for a minute, brows furrowed and already thinking of something he would have loved to correct you on. most certainly about how you’d fit in. and yet you stood with confidence now, lips in a tight line and eyes locking with his.

god, he wanted to kiss you until he couldn’t breathe.

“owe me for what, princess?” Sukuna smiled at you, sharp canines flashing in doing so.

“for putting on a damn good show in front of my ex. it’s time I return the favor.”

oh.

-

this was a mistake. a big fat fucking mistake and you didn’t realize it until you were walking up to the front door with Sukuna. you fidgeted with your skirt, smoothed your hair, tried to make yourself at least look like you hadn’t just let Sukuna tongue fuck your mouth in the car just moments ago.

would anyone be able to tell that you were sexually frustrated and as tense as a stretched rubber band? god you should have told him to knock it off but you just couldn’t help it.

Sukuna knocked three times, alerting Yuji to his presence before opening the door ahead of any answer. this used to be his home, after all. before everyone and their mother decided to come and dry hump on the couch every night.

he’d seen Choso’s lights on as you both walked up, and he was sure that she’d be here - and he silently hoped that wouldn’t scare you away.

“hey, Sukuna’s here everybody!” you heard someone shout, followed by a few grumbles of fake enthusiasm. did everyone really look down on him that much?

his brother Yuji, or you assumed by the matching head of pink fluffy hair, practically bounded over and wrapped his arms around Sukuna. “I’m so glad you made it!” Yuji exclaimed with a wide, toothy grin.

“yeah, yeah, like you would’ve noticed my absence.” Sukuna teased before turning the tables on Yuji and enclosing an arm around his brother’s throat to roughly rub his knuckles across Yuji’s scalp. “don’t make a big deal okay? I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”

it was until then that Yuji noticed you, standing slightly behind Sukuna and smiling at the display - honestly surprised to see that side of Sukuna. “hi, I hope you don’t mind that I tagged along.” you bowed your head slightly, but a quick elbow from Sukuna had you straightening up.

“don’t do that, you don’t have to.” he corrected you with a smirk, and Yuji was having none of it.

your hands were quickly enclosed in his, and he bounced up and down with enthusiasm. “guys, Sukuna brought a girl with him!” Yuji yelled out behind him as he suddenly wrapped you in a hug too.

Sukuna rolled his eyes as he watched his little brother almost squeeze the life out of you. he half expected you to shrug it off, or push him away, but you were beaming. a grin stretched across your face and he felt his heart race wildly at the sight.

“woah, really? what, did you kidnap her or something?” a red-haired girl rushed around the corner, but when she saw you her jaw dropped. “holy fucking shit, she’s gorgeous!”

“that’s Nobara Kugisake, please ignore her for your own mental sanity.” Sukuna grumbled out an introduction, earning a sharp glare from Nobara before she also wrapped you up in a hug - joining Yuji seeing as he hadn’t even let go yet.

you were soon introduced to Megumi Fushiguro, Toge Inumaki, Yuta Okkotsu, and Maki Zenin. the only one out of four who showed an ounce of enthusiam was Inumaki, who extended his hand for you to shake.

you couldn’t help but wonder where -

“who’s your friend, Sukuna?” you turned at the voice, eyes catching on his other brother Choso standing at the bottom of the stairs, and then -

fucking hell. she was beautiful. like, “doesn’t have to try” beautiful.

and you were very, very aware of her eyes scanning over you, lips parted slightly in what looked to be surprise as she noted your presence. more specifically, Sukuna’s hand enclosed in yours.

Sukuna was quick to make introductions, not wanting to dwell on the fact that he had noticed how your demeanor shifted suddenly. he knew why, and he’d make sure to discuss it later, but for now he focused on wrapping an arm around your waist and keeping you at his side.

he didn’t want you to draw comparisons, but he could tell you were already doing so. your eyes followed her almost every where before you’d look down at your outfit, comb your fingers through your hair, or adjusted your posture.

to Sukuna, there was no fucking comparison. you were his and she was not.

but you couldn’t help it. you had wanted to know how - how had this one girl once had both Sukuna and Choso wrapped around her finger? and now after looking at her you knew. and you hated that she wasn’t hideous or bitchy. hated that you had yet to find anything negative about her.

the night dragged on, and so did your swirl of negative thoughts. Yuji was amazing, and Sukuna had been right that you two would get along. Choso was even very sweet, although still side eyeing Sukuna on occasion as if you couldn’t see.

once everyone was good and drunk, and things took a turn for the crazier side of a party, you were mentally checked out. Sukuna watched as you started to stare off into the distance, blinking a little too long and yawning into your elbow. you were getting sleepy, he knew it because you always looked the cutest when you were half awake.

“I think it’s time I get her back home. right, princess?” Sukuna pulled you closer to his side as everyone bid you goodnight, Yuji making sure to express repeatedly that you were always welcome. he didn’t miss the last long look you gave her from across the room.

you almost fell asleep on the ride back to your apartment, Sukuna’s warmth radiating off of him as your arms were wrapped around his torso. did you make a good first impression? did everyone like you, or hate you?

were you as pretty as her?

Sukuna had been fully intent on walking you to your door, and dropping you off like a gentleman. but manners be damned. as soon as you turned the key, and turned to look at him with big doe eyes, he was screwed.

“am I as pretty as her?” the question slipped from your lips before you could stop it, but you couldn’t help it. you had to know, otherwise you’d go crazy wondering about it.

but Sukuna didn’t respond, which made your stomach drop as he ushered you through your door before clicking it shut behind him. you almost took the silence as your answer, until suddenly your back was pressed up against the inside of your door and Sukuna had two hands firmly planted on either side of your head.

“don’t. don’t start making comparisons to her, because there is nothing to compare.” Sukuna growled lightly, chest heaving as he tried to keep a tight leash on his resolve to kiss you until you forgot all about it. “if you’re looking for something to set yourself apart - you’re mine. she’s not, and that’s that.”

“but-”

“no buts.” you were making it increasingly more difficult for him to control himself. what must he do to prove it to you? to chase away your negative thoughts and show you that you are the one he wants, exes and hookups be damned.

when you looked up at him again, he had one tiny, tiny shred left.

“then show me I’m yours.”

you were expecting him to laugh it off, to tell you that you were too tired or that he was going to be a gentleman. you were sick of that - fuck being a gentleman, you wanted him to fuck you.

but no, Sukuna took it as a challenge.

his lips crashed into yours, rough and unrestrained as his body pressed into you fervently. you tasted sweet, all he could think about as soon as he kissed you was how sweet you tasted and how he craved more. it made him wonder if you tasted just as sweet every where else.

the notion led him to start trailing rough kisses down your cheek, your jaw, onto your neck. peppered kisses mixed with nips of his teeth against your skin and you were already feeling hot. so fucking hot that it made you wonder what you’d set your thermostat to before you left.

you were so ablaze that you decided you needed your clothes off - now.

you started to lean into Sukuna, more and more until he started backing into your apartment with you in his arms, not allowing himself to breath and stuffing his face into your neck. he didn’t want to move or stop what he was doing, not until he was thoroughly drunk on your scent.

he backed up until he hit your bedroom door, reaching behind himself with one hand to open it and pull you inside with him. Sukuna’s lips returned to yours, nipping and tugging roughly at your bottom lip, causing you to moan out of your parted lips. he made note of how much he loved that sound, deciding to make sure he heard it throughout the night.

both of you tumbled back onto your bedspread, with Sukuna pinned under your body as you returned his needy kisses ten fold. he was warm and rough and sturdy and you ached for every bit of it. you went to bite his lip back, barely missing and catching his cheek again and his hips jolted in response.

Sukuna felt like a wild animal, and you seemingly matched his energy with your roaming hands and rough gentle teeth. if he knew how much you loved to bite he would have done this a hell of a lot sooner.

as your hands reached between your bodies and fumbled with his belt, Sukuna’s sank his canines into the exposed skin right between your neck and shoulder and hauled. hauled you to the side and rolled until you were firmly planted beneath him now, turning the tables.

he had to remind himself of where he was, who he was with, and what he intended to do with you. with permission.

“do you want to?” Sukuna’s voice came out broken and rough from lack of air due to your addictive kiss. his eyes scanned your face for any ounce of hesitation, but all he could find was your eyes half open as you smirked up at him.

“oh for fuck’s sake, I want you.” you murmured to answer him, reaching a hand up to rest on his cheek and smile at him.

and he melted on the spot. your warm touch, your smile, everything you were taking and giving right back to him made his heart thump wildly in his chest. if he didn’t know any better he thought you might be able to hear his pulse racing in the silence.

he didn’t let himself hesitate before his lips were on your skin again, now more gentle as he worked over your neck and jaw line. “tell me what you want. or don’t want.” Sukuna bit out that last part, trying desperately to remember how much progress he’d made in his journey to becoming a better man.

but dammit was it hard to be better right now when all he wanted to do was shove your face in the mattress and make you take his cock deep.

you hummed out soft praises as he worked his way down to your top, helping you rise and pull it over your shoulders, and soon after your pants followed to be discarded somewhere on the floor.

“how come I’m the first one that had to strip, and you’re still fully dressed?” you teased as you nipped at his exposed neck, pressing your tongue flat to lick a small stripe up the tattoo lining his shoulder.

Sukuna wanted to fire back, argue and tease until your cheeks were heated, but not right now. no, he made quick work of his own clothing, until the both of you were down to only your underwear.

and my oh my was Sukuna in nothing but boxers a sight to behold. you couldn’t help but ogle the growing mass straining in his underwear, twitching already as if it was begging to be freed.

“I knew it.” you gave him a smug grin as you stared right at his covered cock. “I knew you were big.”

Sukuna laughed, your blunt honesty taking him off guard but finding it hilarious nonetheless. “so, you’ve been thinking ‘bout my dick, have you?” he quipped before quickly smashing his lips to yours to halt any further remarks from your mouth. “how’d you like to see the real thing, princess?”

you nodded eagerly, hands already reaching for the waistband of his boxers and gulping as you felt him twitch at your touch. just by looking at it, even covered by fabric, you wondered if you’d be able to take it. would he even fucking fit?

your question was validated as soon as you slipped his boxers down past his knees and his cock was released.

the tip was already glistening with leaking pre-cum, his veins so prominent that your mouth went dry, and the thickness… god you really would be struggling to take him all in.

“your turn.” Sukuna grinned wickedly as he watched you stare at his cock. he could see the way you gulped at the sight, no doubt wracking your brain for an explanation of just how he could fit inside of you. “let me see you, pretty girl.”

his fingers danced along your panty line, feather-light touches sending chills up your spine as his knuckles brushed over your core.

“so wet already, hm?” he cooed as he let his middle knuckle press into your clit through the cloth. your back arched at the touch, and he sucked in a breath as he watched your mouth fall open from the littlest amount of pleasure.

without wasting any more time, he pulled your panties past you knees and off of your ankles - tossing them in his pile of clothes instead of yours. he’d be saving those for later, of course.

Sukuna had never felt himself go breathless at the sight of someone naked before. but now, every touch he gave and every noise from your lips had him shaking with anticipation.

you felt one of his fingers run through your wet folds, a groan escaping his lips at the feeling. “don’t be a tease.” you whined as you tried to scoot your hips into his touch. one of his hands firmly planted itself on your waist, pinning you in place to halt your desperate movements.

“just trying to get you ready, princess.” Sukuna explained before circling your clit, causing you to suck in a breath and grip the sheets a little tighter between your palms. “you said it yourself, it’s pretty big.

but you were impatient. you needed him right fucking now. “don’t care, I can take it.”

you can’t take it, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“don’t wanna hurt you.” Sukuna was trying so hard to be gentle, to fuck you the way you deserved but goddamn were you starting to make him crazy.

you looked him in the eye, pupils blown out with lust already, and smirked. “what are you, scared?” you teased, hoping that it would elicit the exact response you wanted.

and oh it did. he snapped, immediately pushing your legs up and back so that you knees met your chest to fold you up. Sukuna loved that you were smaller than him, pliable, easy to move around as he saw fit. if you were going to act like a brat then you could take it like a brat.

you moan at the first nudge of his tip in your entrance, his pre-cum mixing with your arousal as he teased so deliciously at your hole. he was baiting you to say something more. to talk back so that he could fuck the attitude out of you.

“you wanna rethink your cockiness now, sweet girl?” he bit out the words as he restrained himself from sheathing his cock to the hilt in one go. fuck he wanted to bury himself within you and watch as you fell apart. “I can feel your tight cunt already startin’ to stretch.”

it was a divine mixture of pain and pleasure to feel him slowly ease in, the tip of his dick now pushing past the first ring and sliding into your cunt. but it wasn’t enough for you.

“more, pl - please, give me more.” you groaned while reaching up to claw at his pecs. “just - ah - fuck me already dammit.”

“if you say so.” a grin spread across Sukuna’s face before he jolted his hips forward, bullying past your tight walls as fast as you could physically allow him until he was firmly planted deep inside of you.

you cried out, borderline screamed, at the stretch and burn of his huge dick molding you to his desire. oh it was so so good. you had never felt anything like it - you felt completely stuffed.

Sukuna but his lip so hard that he tasted copper as your walls clenched around him. “fuck you’re so - ngh - tight princess.” he pressed a hand across your abdomen, finding that sweet spot where he could feel his tip under your skin, almost buried within your cervix, or even past that. “takin’ me so well, feel s’ good.”

“holy shit, holy fucking shit.” a whine escaped you when you sucked in a breath. you dared to open your eyes from being clenched to see Sukuna hovering above you, completely still as if he couldn’t risk making another move.

and sure enough, his hand lifted to rest on your cheek, eyes boring into yours as he searched your expression. “you okay?” Sukuna bit out, resisting the urge to move his hips even the slightest.

“s’ good, Sukuna. ‘m okay.”

he watched as the tension left your body and your gaze softened as you looked at him. with your cheeks already flushed, Sukuna thought he was the luckiest guy in the world to see you like this. “Ryomen. if I’m inside you, start calling me Ryomen.” he blurted before he could stop himself. not that he regretted it.

the corners of your mouth turned up, and if your heart wasn’t already racing it sure was now. “now, can we continue, Ryo?”

he was so fucking screwed.

“anything for you, princess.”

and so were you.

literally.

one roll of Sukuna’s hips, even slight, had you clawing at his shoulders. you felt like you were floating and being suffocated all at once, and he fared no better. he didn’t know it could feel like this, like it was… well, he didn’t know what, but it was fucking better than anything else.

his head dipped into your shoulder, sinking his teeth into your skin and groaning into the bite. you swear you felt full body chills as his hands continued to roam your body as his cock destroyed your cunt.

with each gentle thrust, Sukuna became more and more confident with your responses, and started to pick up his pace with ferocity. honestly, if he didn’t, he was going cum sooner than you and he couldn’t have that. “god, you feel s’ fucking good. can’t believe we haven’t done this sooner.” he cursed under his breath at one particularly brutal thrust that had your walls clenching around him even more than they already were.

“well – shit – you had to earn it.” even in your messed up state you stilled toyed with him, watching as he smirked back at your attitude before reaching a hand down between the two of your bodies. his fingers brushed against your clit, feather light and teasing, but it still sent shockwaves through you. “ah don’t be a fucking tease, Ryo. I’m sure you know better – fuck!”

a harsh pinch to the clit had you shutting your mouth, or at least moaning so loud it interrupted your sarcasm, and Sukuna grinned devilishly. “what were y’ sayin’?” he chided as he pinched the sensitive nub again, delighted to watch as your body heaved in reaction.

“fuck, ‘m sorry, just don’t stop!” your nails dug into the muscle of his bicep, desperately trying to keep it pinned in place so that he would continue to work his magic with his hand. “please, please keep going!”

Sukuna obliged, now circling your clit as his cock shoved harder inside of you – in out in out – at an almost inhuman pace. his hand gripped your hip so tightly you were sure there would be bruises from where he tried to keep you still while he fucked you senseless. you were so beautiful to look at that Sukuna couldn’t look way, eyes screwed shut and mouth wide open to release your honeyed moans, cunt sucking him in with each thrust.

when he felt your walls pulse and tighten, he knew you were close. and he prided himself in the knowledge that it was him getting you there. “you gonna cum, princess? all over my dick?” as you nodded fervently, he swept in and crashed his lips to yours, slipping his tongue inside your mouth and swallowing your moans as your release came crashing over you.

your cunt became like a vice, squeezing him to death as your body spasmed beneath him. the tightly wound band inside Sukuna’s abdomen was holding on by a single string, but he pulled away to watch you come undone.

“Ryo, please, want y’ to fill me up.” and fuck if he was going to argue with you. Sukuna slid both arms behind your back, wrapping around you to hold you still while his hips thrusted even harsher and faster than before, chasing his own high.

“say my name, princess. I’m gonna – ah shit – gonna cum. wanna cum inside this perfect pussy.” Sukuna was babbling at this point, and if he had any sense he’d hate himself for it but with a cunt this warm and good he couldn’t stop.

“fuck, Ryo!” you scratched your nails down his back harshly, pushing him off the edge. he let out a low, guttural groan as you felt him twitch inside of you, before you felt the warmth of his cum coating your walls and spilling out of you with the force of it.

once his balls started to ache, Sukuna pulled out and collapsed on the bed next to you. “holy shit.” he panted, wiping the sweat from his forehead and pushing his hair back. “that was –”

“– fucking phenomenal.” you finished for him, a cheesy grin spreading across your face as you started to chuckle. “hell, I think you enjoyed yourself more than me.”

“did not.” Sukuna growled lightly but you didn’t miss the corner of his mouth twitch upwards.

“did too. gonna have you pussy whipped now, right?”

you were only teasing, but when he glanced your way, his pupils were so dilated that his eyes looked nearly black. he gave your shoulder a playful shove, a loud laugh spilling from his lips. “maybe,” he said with a grin, “just maybe.”

you’d count that as a win.

before you could fire back another quip, Sukuna slid an arm around your waist, tugging you closer in one smooth motion.

“c’mere,” he murmured, the warmth in his voice betraying how much he enjoyed seeing you flustered.

his free hand guided you until you were nestled comfortably against him, the steady rise and fall of his chest lulling you into a sense of calm. it felt surprisingly natural—his larger frame, the solid press of his body, and the low, rumbling chuckle that vibrated through you when he realized you weren’t resisting.

“just maybe, huh?” you teased again, your cheek pressed to his shoulder.

he let out a soft snort, tightening his hold as if you might slip away. “shut up,” he grumbled good-naturedly, but the way his hand splayed against your back was anything but irritated.

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