#but i don't have drive to write it right now

[imaluvsj7]

✿ ─── TOUCH OF EUPHORIA : 이희승

SYNOPSIS : where 𝒽𝑒𝑒seung is desperate man

PAIRING : 𝓁ee 𝒽𝑒𝑒seung x gn 𝓇eader ; GENRE : friends 𝓉𝑜 lovers, 𝒻luff, yearning & 𝒹esperation ; WC : 1338

───── 【 𝒾mas’ note 】 ❍ :: getting hang of writing again so sorry this is kinda rusty, I've tried making gn this time so really sorry if you find specific gender mentioned anywhere. please leave fbs & ENJOY READING!!

WARNINGS : english is not my first language, reader loves to banter, hee is a loser trapped in a hot body — desperate and yearning, hee calls reader angel, lots of fluffy & they kiss!!!! a little bit of rusty writing.

DISCLAIMER : This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

“Visiting my house early in the morning with your pajamas still on isn't how i expected you to show up heeseung especially the following day of your confession,” you stand near your door looking at him with adoration with a teasing tone hidden behind your grin.

Heeseung stood in front of your doorsteps with his typical pajamas a white loose tank top and grey trousers, bedhead messy locks with some tousled strands tucked in places — showing he has tried to fix his hair on the way, his bambi eyes showing daze and their usual sparkle. (click to read more)

Yet his unsettling feet and palms showed his feelings — a mix of joy, excitement, a depth of overwhelmingly and maybe slightly anxious gaze which he couldn't hide and somewhat feeling euphoric.

“I woke up and went to directly check my phone then I saw your response to my confession and I couldn't control myself but I promise I have brushed my teeth and washed my face,” he explains hastily trying to assure you he has cleaned himself enough to show up.

You try to suppress your laugh but he was too adorable to control, looking at you chuckling he blushed profusely as his ears turned crimson red and warm.

Soon calming down you speak — “so heeseung did you feel satisfied with my response.” “You said you will reply in person….. uh- so do you reciprocate my feelings?” he stutters out his question.

“Is this why you came rushing?” you ask with a playful tone subsiding your laugh. “Please angel, just answer my question. I need to know your response in person,” he said, carrying a whiny tone and emphasizing his plea.

“Okay gosh but first come inside you goofball.”

─────═━ •❃• ━═─────

You both walk into the living room and sit on the couch, “you want anything to drink cause it's early morning you haven't had breakfast or something.” “No please let's just talk,” he pleads desperately.

God you are weak for men who yearn pathetically, it drives you insane. You want to scream in a pillow at his adorable yet desperate state.

“Okay okay let's talk,” you gesture at him to continue speaking. “I couldn't keep my feelings hidden anymore angel, so Jay pushed me to confess and I didn't have the guts to do it infront of your face so I preferred to text instead.”

“To be honest I said that because confessing on text is a chicken move and I wasn't fond of it so I told you to confront me in person for my response.” “Yeah that I understood after Sunoo and Jungwon smacked my head when I told them before leaving, I'm really sorry that was very cowardly and lame of me.”

“It's okay bambi boy you're forgiven since you're so adorable but now I'm waiting for you to repeat the same thing you know.”

“Stop teasing me — he groans, maybe more like whining with his lips forming a pout — okay now just listen to me and don't speak please or I might get nervous, “you're nervous” – angel please let me complete.

I have had feelings for you for three years right after we became friends, I couldn't control them. Whenever you grab my arm I feel a jolt of electricity running through my body, when you come over to take care of me when I'm sick I feel captivated by your presence, when you laugh at my silly jokes I feel an intense wave of euphoria, I feel butterflies in my stomach when I go to bed after we hangout. I cannot stop myself blushing and smiling, at this point all my friends know and make fun of me. I don't care if I sound desperate or pathetic. I just want you to know how I feel so please tell me how you feel or I might go insane.”

“Gosh bambi boy you make me want to squish the life out of you. I have feelings for you too, you idiot, it was pretty clear to everyone except for you bimbo. Why do you think I always agreed to hangout and spend time with you and laugh at your silly jokes because I love you dummy.”

You expected him to jump or maybe laugh or just react with some sort of excitement but rather his eyes are glossy showing his vulnerability and his big grin speaks for his happiness.

“Say something now you idiot,” “I will start crying you-you love me- you said those words.” He stands up abruptly startling you as he grabs you in a tight hug pulling you up from the couch and his feet softly bouncing in excitement showing his eagerness.

“Okay you stupid let's sit…. oh god bambi boy,” you laugh at his excitement as he stumbles and you both crash on the couch. “Sorry oh god that was embarrassing I couldn't help oh this is real,” he giggles still joyful from the adrenaline rush.

He shifts, getting both of you comfortable laying down on the couch and you both stay quiet for a few minutes covered in a comforting silence.

“You know you haven't said those words yet,” “I haven't what – how can I be so stupid oh my god I love you angel, so much and it keeps growing everyday, every minute and every second.”

“You know you're definitely desperate and corny but lucky for me I like my man yearning for me.” He laughs at your sassy words while nuzzling his face in your hair and it follows with a soft warm touch of his lips making you go still and your body feeling euphoric.

He turns your head into his direction as he inches himself close to your face, his warm breath hitting your lips as he whispers “Can I?” — nodding your head you give him consent.

He soon leans forward, your bodies pressed together and your lips meeting his and you can feel the taste of shared breath along with his natural scent consuming your brain making it foggy.

Jolts of electricity pass in your system sending a tingling sensation across your cloudy brain and your palms turn clammy. The feeling of euphoria crawling in your heart making loud thuds. Your lips part slightly as he slips his tongue inside making you grasp his tank top in a tight fist.

Your usual confidential facade falling off as your face flushes warmth turning your ears crimson red. Eyes closed with your one hand travelling from his hair to his nape and his one hand locking your lips in place while the other holds your waist with fingers caressing your skin.

Your heart blooms with a rush of contentedness and a warmth you couldn't despair — the feeling so new yet so exciting making you feel gleeful. The lack of oxygen forcing you both to slowly part away, he leaves a last peck on your puckered lips.

Taking your time to stabilize your breathing you start feeling shy and exposed but the way Heeseung grins widely with adoration shining in his bambi eyes, his hands holding yours with his fingers caressing your knuckles assuring you.

Guessing your vulnerability he pulls you to him hugging you closes, pressing his torso against yours. Nuzzling his chin against your head he tilts his head a little to give your forehead a loving peck soon returning to its position.

After somewhat ten minutes of comforting silence he spoke up “Just so you know I'm your boyfriend now and you're my girlfriend but Jay told me girls feel loved and special when we ask them out on a nice date so give me one day.”

Receiving no response he pulls away a little to find you in a peaceful slumber, his loving gaze admiring your peaceful self — when you aren't teasing him or being cheeky.

Returning to his position he closes his eyes drifting away in his dreamland except this time it wasn't him admiring you from afar rather holding your hand while walking on a beach with your ring finger shining with a gold ring reflecting the sunlight.

© 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐔𝐕𝐒𝐉𝟕 2025 | DO NOT PLAGIARISE ON ANY PLATFORM

💌 ─── NOTE : editing my taglist so please tell me if you wanna be added in my perm taglist.

˙ . ꒷ 🍥 masterlist daily click . 𖦹˙—

[justleaveacommentfest]

Not an ask, but a story about leaving comments -- not long ago, I left a comment on a fic from almost 10 years ago where the author, in their end notes, discussed how proud they were to have finished this fic (it was an incredible fic that was over 100,000 words long because they're a god and I would also just be shaky in the knees if I accomplished something so long and profound); and they also talked in their author's note how strange it was to be the ages of 22-24 when they were writing this fic and how things weren't always easy, and that they hoped the future was bright for them.

I commented about my life, right now, how I came to find their fic a decade years later from when they finished (a little sheepishly, it feels weird to talk about yourself, but it felt important somehow) -- anyways, I also talked about how reading their author's note reminded me very much of how I felt right now, and how different the world is now from 2015, and how this fic made me feel all kinds of nostalgic and good and hopeful about growing older, and how my god they were this good at 22 and I hope they're still writing -- and even if not, I hope all these years later they really are in a better place.

They replied. They replied! I was so delighted! They are indeed in their thirties! and they are indeed still writing! Things haven't gone as expected, but they've got a healthier dose of perspective on life and how to cope with the hard times now. And it was just so heartwarming to hear and learn about them. And to know that they're still around!

Just seeing that, seeing these people who write about hard times nine years ago, and leaving a comment and getting a reply, it just brings so much hope. Because you never know! You never know if someone's still going to be here, and so when they are it's kind of a-- not a miracle, but it just feels like I'm suddenly so very aware of my existence in the world and theirs too and it just -- it MATTERS. And ao3 and fanfiction in general is so unique to most media where you stare at a television or read a book, you can engage with the creator of that thing you're reading RIGHT THEN AND THERE. And you may not get a reply, or you might get this touching response that lets you feel like you're less alone in the world. It's worth the chance, right? That's what building community and stuff is all about! You can make so many friends this way!

And even if they never reply, don't you want them to know how important their story was to you? And it doesn't matter if the story was finished a decade ago or just posted yesterday, there's still a person that's there that gets to see how their art made an impact on the world. I've made a couple of friends doing this -- and even if I'm not making a friend, I hope I make someone's day a little brighter. God knows I'm always delighted whenever someone comments on my fics.

I admit I'm not perfect -- I don't always comment on fics that I read. I'm trying to be better, I've got a list of fics that I definitely should have written a comment on that I've been going through and writing out how I feel about their writing because damn people are just so talented. This wasn't for just leave a comment fest, I admit, but I do love to see your blog and your drive because it is such an important thing for writers.

I didn't know you were doing a valentines day thing, but what a great idea! I wanted to share my experience, hopefully inspire some other people to go out and comment, and now I'm going to go check another fic off my list of ones that I'd like to comment on. Better late than never!

Have a great day! and Happy Valentine's Day Just Leave a Comment Mini Fest!

I AM HOOTING AND HOLLERING I AM PLAYING THE XYLOPHONE ON MY RIB CAGE WHAT A STORY!!!! WHAT A BEAUTIFUL CONNECTION TO HAVE MADE THROUGH COMMENTS!!! WHAT A WONDERFUL, BEAUTIFUL EXPERIENCE TO HAVE HAD!!

ANON THANK YOU FOR SHARING THIS HAS MADE THIS SKELETON'S DAY

[pennyold]

teasing | r.c

Summary: Teasing your boyfriend during the dinner didn't end well... He wanted to have you ruined, begging for mercy.

Warnings: rough sex, dirty talk, suggestive content, choking, teasing, face slapping, spitting on the face, slight masochism (don't read it if you don't like it)

w.c: 1,6k

a/n: this is not a romantic shit, i just wanted a excuse to post again alr? So, I really wanted to write about this so bad, but I don't know if you guys are ready for my dirty mind ideas... so enjoy it, and I hope you like it!! And not proofreading, sorry for any grammatical mistakes!!

main masterlist ↲

peace and love, penny ★

All set, Rafe was waiting for me in the living room. I looked in the mirror and noticed the invisible straps connecting my panties to the black stockings. I turned around and went down the stairs. When I looked at Rafe, he smiled at me, hugged me, and kissed me on the cheek. "So precious, as always." He took my hand, leaving the house and walking towards the car. He opened the door for me, and as I sat down, my dress got caught. I looked at him, and he kept looking at me. "What a provocateur, darling." I smiled, and he slammed the door in my face.

During the trip, he wanted to put his hand on my thigh, but I didn't allow it; I just held his hand. "Let me," he said, "not now," I said, noticing how he was looking at me, smiling. "Please," I grabbed his jaw and kissed him. "Wait until we get home." He shook his head, looking at the road. "We could turn back." I shook my head, laughing. "No, we're going to have dinner and then home." I smiled at him, and Rafe focused on the road.

We were having dinner at Rafe's and my favorite restaurant, where we had some of our first dates when we met. Very cheesy, but it doesn't change the fact that he liked coming here frequently, and it had become my favorite place too.

"Do you like it?" he asked, pointing at my plate. I had ordered something different from the usual. I nodded, "It's very good, delicious," I said, smiling at him. I looked at his plate, and he had almost finished it. "You were very hungry, weren't you?" he nodded, wiping his mouth. "Yes." Besides, I want to go home, right? I slightly tilted my head, and he smiled, "I haven't stopped thinking about it." I knew what he was referring to, but I wanted to tease him a little. "What are you talking about?" I said, tempting him. "You know what I'm talking about." I shook my head, drinking from my glass. "Don't play with me," he said. I laughed, "I don't know what you're talking about." "About your..., you look beautiful," I nodded. "I know, you told me at the house." It seemed like I had thrown it back at him, and in a cruel way, but I just wanted to tease him. "I didn't mean to..." he raised his hand and asked the waiter for the bill. "We're leaving." I took the napkin from my lap and wiped myself.

"What's the rush?" he was drilling me with his gaze. I smiled at him and looked at the waiter when he stood next to the table. Rafe paid the bill, stood up almost knocking over the chair, and helped me get up. "I can do it myself," I challenged him. I was playing dirty, but I liked how he couldn't say a word. As we walked towards the car, I opened my door before he could. He didn't even look at me and returned to the driver's seat, started the car, and drove away.

I grabbed the doorknob. Rafe was driving at high speed, so I clenched my thighs and adjusted the seatbelt. "Rafe..." He didn't speak or look at me; he pressed the accelerator harder, and I could feel my body contracting against the seat. Finally, he slowed down, and we arrived home. When I unbuckled my seatbelt, Rafe opened the door and extended his hand for me to get out. I stayed in the seat fixing my lipstick and combing my hair, "Could you get out of the damn car?" I nodded, taking his hand, and walking to the house door, leaving him behind. I opened the house with my keys and left my bag in the dining room, and upon hearing the door slam and the front door lock, I knew I had crossed the line.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He spoke to me from behind, and I simply removed my heels and left them aside. "I don't know." I held back the smile and headed towards the kitchen. "Look at me," I ignored him, pouring myself a glass of water. When I turned around, he was right before me, with a serious expression. "You like to play dirty, don't you?" I remained serious and nodded. "And in public, what a slut." He grabbed my cheeks and jaw with one hand and tightened his grip, making me look at him. "This pretty girl wanted to tease me, ‘m I wrong?" I shook my head; he wasn’t wrong.

At this point, my panties were so wet, soaked. I couldn't even speak. I swallowed hard and squeezed my thighs, trying to lessen the throbbing of my clit. I let out a moan and opened my eyes wide; I messed up. Rafe smiled, "I know you're a dirty bitch who likes being called the whore that you are. Right, darling?” I nodded, holding my breath. I was going to moan again, but I held it back in my throat.

"This dirty bitch needs to be fixed, go to the room," he demanded, and I obeyed, walking barefoot, I picked up my heels and went upstairs.

I knew what was going to happen to me. Normally, I don't bother him like that; I just wanted to play a little this time. Now I had to serve my sentence.

Upon entering the room, I sat on the bed looking at the full-length mirror we had next to the bed and remembered the countless times I looked in the mirror and saw his reflection fucking me, which turned me on even more. I got startled when I heard the door slam again, and my skin prickled. Without looking at him, I looked in the mirror once more, then saw his reflection in it, "Are you reflecting on your actions?" I ignored him and tried to get out of bed, but he pulled me back down with a yank. "I didn't tell you to get up, so sit down.” I nodded and took the edge of my dress to pull it down, but he placed his hand over mine, pulling it away from the dress. "No... I want to see how you take it off."

I wore thick stockings and began to unfasten the straps that connected to my panties. I slowly took off the stockings, and when I lifted my leg a little, my folds parted, and I felt a familiar throb starting again. I bit my lip and continued with the other one, and when I finished, I remained motionless, waiting for him to speak. "The panties too.”

With my heart racing, I did it. I slowly took them off, leaving the fabric on the floor and closing my legs. "Are you wet?" he said, running his face along my neck, then licking it, leaving a wet sensation on it. I nodded, closing my eyes.

Then he slid the strap of the dress off my shoulder, kissing it. "Do you like it like this or rougher, huh?" I whined, squirming; Rafe grabbed my jaw, making me open my eyes and look at him through the mirror. "Are you going to keep that damn mouth shut all the time?" I was left breathless and then spoke: "Slut me out."

I should have thought of the other answer, but after all, I was enjoying it, damn it, of course i was.

He slapped me and then spat in my face. There was a puddle between my thighs, dripping my juices around his cock. "I'm crazy about you, so bad that I want to ruin you." He pushed his pelvis against my core, hitting my uterus. "Would you let me, darling?" I moaned, biting my lip. "Fuck... yeah" I barely manage to form a coherent word.

Rafe took my neck and squeezed it lightly, making me gasp."Squeeze harder," I said, breathless, and he did. He squeezed me but quickly let go, kissing my cheek. "You might be a little slut, but don't make me choke you again for pleasure," then he leaned closer to my ear, "Make me give that big ass of yours a slap, mmh." I turned around, rubbing my ass against his pelvis, brushing my folds against his still hard cock. "Do you want me to slap you while I fuck you? Is that what you want?" I nodded, looking at the pillows, then he thrust his cock into my pussy, stretching my walls once again.

I was a mess moaning, screaming into the pillow and squeezing his cock when he slapped my ass. I could feel my stomach tightening and my pussy contracting, "Shit, I'm going to cum" he slapped my ass hard and pushed my face sideways against the pillow "Whores like you aren't allowed to cum" I whimpered and squeezed his cock "Let me cum, please" he mocked my pathetic voice and fucked me faster "Beg for it" I grunted against the pillow without being able to utter a word, I was about to cum, I could feel my pussy getting hotter.

"Please, let me cum" he ran his hands down my spine to my waist, tightening his grip without stopping to thrust and pull out his cock. "Cum, cum on my cock, pretty" and I did, I reached my climax, covering Rafe's cock with my sticky cum "So sticky... wait until I cum" he kissed my cheek and caressed my cheekbone with his knuckles "I'm going to cum in this tight and lovely pussy. Ready for me and fill you up?"

[woozinhos]

DK attending a red carpet event with his partner. Partner won an award and DK is their +1. Quicky on way home....

Notes: you guys know I shine when it comes to writing about dk 🤭

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.

Dokyeom took your hand as you walked down the red carpet, smiling brightly as cameras flashed and reporters called out your names. You were dressed in a stunning gown that hugged your curves in all the right places, and Dokyeom couldn't keep his eyes off of you. He looked dashing in his tuxedo, his hair styled perfectly and his smile making him even more handsome. As you posed for photos and talked to the media, he kept a protective arm around your waist, pulling you close to him.

You were feeling confident and happy, knowing that you were attending the event with your boyfriend by your side. And then, your name was announced as the winner of an award. Dokyeom cheered loudly as you made your way to the stage to accept the award, his eyes shining with pride. He watched you give your speech and smile for the cameras, feeling like the proudest boyfriend in the world.

After the event was over, Dokyeom helped you into the car and the driver started driving home. The car ride was filled with a comfortable silence, but there was a tension in the air. Dokyeom kept stealing glances at you, his eyes lingering on your exposed skin. Dokyeom turned to you. "You looked so beautiful up there," he said, his voice low and husky. "I couldn't take my eyes off of you." You smiled at him, feeling aroused by his gaze. "Thanks," you said, biting your lip. "But I think you're even more handsome in that tux."

Dokyeom chuckled and leaned in to kiss you, his hand resting on your thigh. "You're trying to flatter me," he teased, his fingers tracing circles on your skin. The car was dark and secluded, and Dokyeom took advantage of the privacy. He deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth as he pulled you onto his lap. You were caught off guard by his sudden move, but you didn't protest. You straddled his lap, feeling his growing bulge against your thigh.

"Dokyeom," you breathed out, your heart racing. "What are you doing?" He smirked and nipped at your neck, his hands roaming over your body. "I couldn't wait until we got inside," he whispered in your ear. "I need you now." Dokyeom looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Come on, baby," he urged. "We're alone in the car, and I can't resist you. I've been wanting to touch you all night." He slid his hands up your thighs, pushing your dress up to reveal more of your skin. He leaned in to kiss you again, his lips hot against yours.

"Please, Y/N," he said, his voice filled with desperation. "Let me have you. Just a quick one before we get home." You hesitated for a moment, looking at him with a mix of desire and uncertainty. "But what if someone sees us?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Dokyeom chuckled and shook his head. "No one will see us," he assured you. "The windows are tinted, and the driver won't look back. Just trust me." He continued to kiss your neck and collarbone, his hands still roaming over your body. He knew how to push your buttons and get you to agree to anything. Your doubts started to fade away as Dokyeom's touch sent shivers down your spine. You moaned softly, tilting your head to give him better access to your neck.

"Okay," you whispered, your resolve crumbling. "But we have to be quick." Dokyeom grinned and flipped you onto your back, pinning you down against the leather seat. He quickly hiked up your dress, exposing your lace panties.

"Good girl," he praised, his fingers tracing the lace. "You always listen so well." You were taken aback by his dominant demeanor, but you had to admit that it was turning you on even more. You looked up at him with wide eyes, your heart pounding in your chest.

Dokyeom smirked down at you, enjoying the effect he was having on you. "You like it when I'm in control, don't you?" he asked, his voice low and seductive. He leaned down to kiss you again, his lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss. His hands roamed over your body, caressing your curves and squeezing your breasts through your dress. You felt his hard cock pressing against your thigh, and you gasped at the feeling. Dokyeom continued to kiss you hungrily, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

"I need to be inside you," he growled, his breath hot against your ear. "Now." You reached down to help him pull himself out of his trousers, your fingers trembling with anticipation. He was already hard and throbbing, precum leaking from the tip. Dokyeom groaned as you wrapped your hand around him, pumping him a few times before positioning himself at your entrance. He pushed your panties to the side, revealing your glistening folds. He ran his fingers through your slick, spreading it around before positioning himself at your entrance once more.

"You're so wet for me," he said, his voice thick with desire. "I can't believe how easily you give in to me." He slowly pushed into you, inch by inch, groaning at the feeling of your tightness around him. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, your back arching off the seat as he filled you up completely.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he hissed, his hands gripping your thighs tightly. "I'm going to make you scream my name." He began to thrust into you at a slow, steady pace, savoring the way your body responded to him. He leaned down to kiss and nibble on your neck, his teeth grazing your skin.

"You feel so good," he whispered in your ear. "So perfect for me." He increased his pace, his hips snapping against yours with a bruising force. The car rocked slightly with each thrust, the sound of your moans and the slapping of skin filling the air. You managed to gasp out his name between moans, your mind clouded with pleasure. "D-Dokyeom... oh god..."

He smirked at the sound of his name on your lips, his eyes locked on your face as he continued to pound into you. "That's it, baby," he encouraged. "Keep saying my name. Let everyone know who's making you feel this way." Your moans grew louder as he hit your sweet spot, his cock rubbing against it with each thrust. You were a mess beneath him, completely lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Dokyeom could feel his own orgasm approaching, but he was determined to make you cum first. He reached down to rub your clit in tight circles, wanting to push you over the edge.

"Cum for me, Y/N," he commanded. "I want to feel you cum on my cock." You couldn't hold back any longer. The combination of his thrusts, his words, and his fingers on your clit sent you spiraling into an intense orgasm. You cried out his name as you came, your walls clenching tightly around him.

Dokyeom groaned at the feeling of your tightness, his own release following soon after. He buried himself deep inside you, his hot cum spilling into you as he rode out his orgasm. He collapsed on top of you, both of you panting heavily as you came down from your high. He placed gentle kisses on your forehead and cheeks, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

"That was amazing," he said, his voice hoarse. "You're amazing." He slowly pulled out of you and helped you adjust your dress, making sure you were presentable again. He sat back in his seat, pulling you onto his lap and holding you close. You looked out the window and saw that the car had pulled up to your house. Dokyeom chuckled and kissed the top of your head.

"We made it," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "And just in time too." You both stumbled out of the car, your clothes rumpled and hair disheveled. The driver gave you a knowing smirk as he got out to open the door for you.

Dokyeom wrapped his arm around your waist, leading you up to the front door. "Come on, let's get inside," he said, his eyes glinting with mischief. "I'm not done with you yet."

[littlcdarlin]

My Burning Sun Will Someday Rise — the journey home

summary: Joel drives you home from the airport after your vacation. You miss him as soon as he's gone. warnings: daddy kink (mentioned once), big age gap (23 & 49), orgasm control (reader needs Joel's permission), slight angst, phone sex in your parents' home (the most mortifying thing I can think of actually)

note: sorry this took me so long, I lowkey forgot about it tbh. It's a little angsty, but I swear that angst will be resolved!! Idk when, because I'm writing a different oneshot atm, but at some point I plan on writing more smut & a confrontation with reader's Dad. Enjoy these head canons in the meantime, and thank you for your love on this series <3333

Your Dad calls while you’re still at the airport & Joel tells him he got you home safely (your panties are still ruined from how badly you wanted Joel on the plane, his hand on your thigh the entire time)

He puts the luggage in the trunk of his Bronco, and before you’ve made it halfway home, he pulls over to a deserted parking lot by the side of the road & makes you ride him in the car

So good, baby, let me have it one last time. He comes inside of you like he did every time he fucked you during your trip, and when you grab your tissues to clean yourself, he asks you to leave it, baby, want you to remember me when you get home

So you do, because you always do what he tells you, and because you don’t want to let him go completely just yet. The rest of the way both of you are very quiet

Joel pulls up to your Dad’s house (you’re staying with him to help him with his leg), and before you can get out, he pulls you into a hug, and kisses the side of your head

Hope ya had a good time. You want to cry but you also don’t want to seem clingy, so you nod. Joel doesn’t let you go for a few minutes

When you pull away to say goodbye, he looks like your Dad’s Joel again, wearing his boots instead of flip flops, a pair of jeans instead of your beloved trunks, and his linen shirt is nowhere to be seen

Take care, kid. Call me if you need anything, alright? And don’t study too hard.

Before you can answer, the front door opens and your Dad greets you, leg still in a cast, and considerably less tan than you and Joel

When you get out to greet him, you feel Joel’s cum drip out of you and into your cotton panties. You glance at Joel, who seems to understand and raises one playful eyebrow — he’s still your Joel, no matter his clothes

Your Dad hugs you and the entire time you think he'll be able to smell Joel on you, his clothes you kept wearing, his shampoo you used when you were too lazy to get yours from your own hotel room, his sweat and spit and cum on you, but your Dad just walks over to Joel's window and thanks him

"Had a good time with my girl?"

Joel doesn't really meet his eye, and you think to yourself that my girl is a term only applicable if Joel says it, but he just agrees, says the food was good and that you studied a lot

And that's it, Joel drives away with one last glance at you in the sun, and then he's gone and a strange emptiness settles over you

You tell your Dad you need some time for yourself after a week of socializing, which he doesn't question, so you say good night, plop down on your bed and put on a movie. You don't want to shower, not when you can still feel Joel inside of you

It takes you around twenty minutes to pull out your phone, and when you do, you've already got a message from Joel

Miss you already, baby. At the risk of sounding desperate, call me if you need a break from studying.

The proper punctuation makes you smile and want to cry at the same time, Joel's age so obvious. You take a couple of seconds to answer and fight the urge to call him and ask him to just take you away to live at his place, your Dad be damned

miss you too. can still feel you inside of me. trying hard not to call you right now

Almost immediately, your phone lights up with Joel's name, and then he's there, his beautiful face taking up the majority of the screen, and although you try hard not to cry, you feel tears burning your eyes

You tell Joel you miss your vacation already, that you wish you could go back, that you don't want to sleep alone tonight. You wonder if he just wanted to have phone sex with you and instead got this jumbled up mess of feelings and tears

But there's just kindness and warmth in his eyes, and when he tells you he wishes you were there with him, watching a movie together instead of alone, relief floods your body. He talks to you in his soothing voice until you stop crying, tells you you can always come over

You're scared to ask him what he means, if he's offering a shoulder to cry on, or if he actually wants to keep seeing you, but when he sees the expression on your face, he asks you to come to his place tomorrow and talk there, instead of over the phone

You agree, already longing for his arms around your body, and when you ask him to make you feel good in a hushed voice, he is quiet for a couple of seconds

Want me to help you get off in your Dad's house? You're not even home in your apartment and you already need it this bad?

It's humiliating in a way that switches off your brain, Joel's words exactly what you need to get lost in him – he isn't pretending what the two of you are doing isn't completely reckless and fucked, instead, he embraces it, makes you get off on it

He makes you use your fingers instead of a vibrator, and they feel strikingly small after being stretched out on Joel's cock for a week. By now, he knows your sounds well enough to tell you to stop when you're close, and only after bringing you right to the edge three times with little more than his dirty words, and you beg him with tears in your eyes, Daddy please, he lets you come

That's it, baby, you have my permission.

When you're done, you wonder why he hasn't touched himself, anxiety bubbling up inside of you, but Joel tells you he wants to focus on you, that he'll take care of it when you've gone to bed.

You tell him again how much you miss him, that you don't want to sleep alone, or get off alone, or eat alone, or with anyone else. Joel smiles sadly, and sighs. Don't gotta get off alone, kid, just text me whenever you need me.

But it's all he can offer – his permission to come, but no dinners together, no nights spent basking in his warmth and scent. You take it, though, and promise to ask his permission every time. You know it turns Joel on, but there is also something more intimate about it. The only exclusivity either of you can offer each other at the moment

You both fall asleep while still on FaceTime, but in the morning, your phone is dead

taglist: @allydiasx@b1bbles@monamedeiros12@brittmb115@dansdonunts @mattevioletgirl @pedrospurplerain @fsiryspit @strangerthingslover69 @thanyatargaryen @chochoooooooooo @guelyury @iloveumorethanlove @neayinia @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @clancysinferno @bbyanarchist @pedrofan @cr3aturef3ar @malfoycassimalfoy @akah565

[effetsecndaires]

— 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥!

➺ PAIRING | gyutaro shabana x fem!reader.

➺ CONTENT WARNING | a little suggestive towards the end. 0,9k words not proofread

➺ NOTE | happy valentine's day to those who don't celebrate 🧚🏻‍♀️ I wanted this to be a janitor bot at first but I didn't want to 'waste' the idea on a bot :') I'm gonna be honest with y'all, the last few months have been pretty rough. I hate everything I write, and it's only getting worse with time. Im not sure if i'll ever get out of that state of mind at this point but oh well, haha. it is what it is I guesssss

Gyutaro had never cared about Valentine's Day before he met you.

Now, he’s pretty sure it’s his favorite day of the year. Not because he likes the holiday itself—no, he still thinks it’s ridiculous how people cling to shallow gestures and empty words, acting as if love only matters once a year when it’s wrapped in ribbons and chocolate. But you? You made it different. You made it meaningful.

This year, you had insisted on celebrating, saying something about making up for all the years he never got to experience it. Gyutaro had scoffed at the idea, grumbling about how pointless it was. But deep down, a part of him—one he barely admitted to himself—had been looking forward to it for weeks. (Not that he’d ever say it out loud.)

So now here he is, lying on your futon, watching as you carefully set up a tray with all the things you’ve prepared for him. Handmade chocolates, a cup of warm tea, and a tiny wrapped gift.

“You’re spoiling me too much, y'know,” he murmurs, scratching absently at his arm. His nails dig a little too hard into his skin but he barely notices. A small, barely noticeable smirk creeps onto his lips as he tilts his head at you. “Aren’t you worried I’ll start expecting this every year?”

“Maybe that’s my plan,” you tease back, kneeling beside him. Before he can respond, you lean in to press a soft kiss to his lips, the tender gesture making him freeze.

God. Why'd you have to be so goddamn perfect? He hates it. Hates how easily you manage to drive him crazy with the simplest touch. How badly he wants more. How he's already fighting his own body so that he doesn't pounce on you and take your right here and there on this futon before you even have the chance to go through with the date. He’s pathetic, isn’t he? The thought makes him dig his nails a little deeper into his palm — but before it can get to the point of drawing blood, your hand is on his wrist, gentle as always, guiding his fingers away from his skin.

“Hey. None of that, baby.” you interrupt his train of thoughts, bringing his knuckles to your lips. “No self-loathing allowed on Valentine's day, 'kay?"

Gyutaro immediately looks away and huffs, heat quickly creeping up his neck. Fuck. He loves you. He loves you. He loves you so fucking much his throat tightens with the need to scream it on top of the roofs. He's not sure why the universe suddenly decided to bless him with a love like yours, but, hell. He isn't about to take it for granted.

With a slightly trembling hand, he plucks one of the chocolates from the tray in front of him and pops it into his mouth, desperately needing to shift the focus off himself.

“Eh, not bad, I guess..." he teases, letting out a quiet hum of approval.

“Not bad?” you gasp. “I spent all evening making these, and all you’ve got for me is ‘not bad’?”

Gyutaro grins, watching the way your lips purse in mock indignation. The way you tease him so effortlessly, like he’s just a guy and not the ugly loser he knows himself to be — it makes something warm stir inside him, his dick hardening and twitching traitorously in his pants. But he ignores it, not wanting to out himself as a complete creep to the girl he loves. Instead, he reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch surprisingly delicate. His fingers brush against your cheek, feeling the heat of your skin beneath them.

“Yeah, alright, fine..." he rolls his eyes playfully. “They’re perfect. Just like you.”

Your eyes widen for a moment, your lips parting and closing again in shock. Then you let out a laugh, tilting your head to press a kiss to the heel of his palm. “Mhm, that’s better.”

“Hey, don’t get all cocky with me now,” His smirk widens, fingers intertwining with yours. “It’s not every day I hand out compliments, y’know. Don't get used to it.”

You squeeze his hand, your fingers tracing idle patterns against his skin. “Well, I guess that just makes them even more special, then.”

Gyutaro doesn’t argue. The truth is, he'll probably shower you with compliments every day after that. He knows it, and he knows you do too.

His heart beats an unsteady rhythm against his ribs, but he finds he doesn’t mind. He likes this. Likes you.

When you shift closer and tug him into your arms, Gyutaro doesn't resist. He lets you guide his head to rest against your chest and exhales a long breath, his entire body relaxing when your fingers start threading through his messy, tangled hair.

A long silence settles between you then, but it isn’t uncomfortable. He tightens his grip on you, letting his fingers curl into the fabric of your clothes as if that will somehow ground him.

Gyutaro closes his eyes, letting himself enjoy the slow, steady rise and fall of your chest as you kiss the crown of his head. For once, he doesn’t feel like a monster. He doesn’t feel like something broken. He's just... a man, held in the arms of someone who loves him. And for the first time in a long, long time, he thinks that maybe—just maybe—happiness isn’t entirely out of his reach.

[alacants]

Ok ok I have a scenario. What happens if carlos alcaraz doesn't happen. Like what would happen if this big blinding ball of energy and sunshine, magic kid and saviour of tennis and whatever just didn't exist. WHAT happens then???

you KNOW i love a good What If!

i mean what carlos did was drive the bleeding edge of the youngest generation right up against the fading end of the big four era. like roger announcing his retirement 4 days after carlitos won his first slam is really something. that i didn't put together until just this minute. (yeah the writing was on the wall but let me have my NARRATIVE.) 

so without carlos, maybe someone's doing that but maybe not. maybe the 90s kids who've been smothered their whole careers get to breathe?? a couple extra years in the sun before the shadow of jannik sinner descends??

i mean OR MAYBE NOT maybe jannik wins that uso qf and goes all the way. (rip casper.) but tbh i think that even if he does it wouldn't be quite as much of a shock to the system—the three years of up and downs from 2019 to 2022 soften the effect into a more natural progression. as opposed to carlos rolling up to win his first 500, masters, and major—TWO majors—all in the same year. this fucking kid lmao. so maybe jannik (or holger! or someone else!) steps in and takes some of carlos' titles, but even if that happens i bet you anything the impact is less paralyzing and the mid-gen still manage to like. rack up some results. believe in themselves. lmao.

and for that matter, that's if we assume jannik develops similarly to irl—i'm sort of intrigued by the counterfactual where jannik doesn't make the jump from piatti quite so quickly. like, he's EOY top 10, he's won some titles, so what if he isn't beating medvedev or tsitsipas or rafole or making it past the early slam rounds, neither is anyone else his age. yet.

having said that i don't think the dissatisfaction jannik felt with where things stood in early 2022 had all that much to do with the presence or absence of carlos in particular (who was also not doing most of those things yet) so for now we'll set that aside. 

anyway so. without carlos, the big rivalry among the younguns is jannik and holger. hahahahaha. and, look, i bet it's not as thorny as it is irl because you don't have the ready-made big three comparisons, holger is probably way better adjusted??? yeah i'm thinking this is who the big winner of a carlosless universe is. holger rune. jannik is (at first) an attainable level of rival and it's not like there's someone else leaving both of them in the dust! meanwhile holger-novak becomes the djokoraz of this universe. and without carlos who was literally born to be a media beloved, holger's the next-best material—like yeah he's ~dramatic and ~controversial but he gives them more than jannik. so what you have is ljfkldajf janholger is the new fedal. no, the new rafole. help i can't stop laughing. i hope jannik is visited by a dream vision of this universe someday.

M E A N W H I L E what is happening at the juan carlos ferrero tennis academy? i mean, it's a normal tennis academy. juanki has a normal job cultivating the youth. it is a little bit crazy to think of the effect that carlos had on juanki's stature and career. like otherwise juanki has the zverev experience and is like oh HELL no—or. hm. actually this is a different and fascinating question, ha, was juanki itching to get back into top-level tennis badly enough that even after getting burned by the zverev experience he would have given it another shot with a non-carlos player. or would it have redirected him definitively back to the academy. 

…….this train of thought is colliding with the discarded counterfactual above + the tidbit that jannik allegedly almost went to rafa nadal academy to produce an outcome that from a pure storytelling perspective i should have anticipated yet somehow didn't see coming. hope you enjoyed witnessing the thought process in real time.

RIGHT so what happens if carlos alcaraz doesn't exist is: juanki coaches jannik to a gripping career rivalry with holger rune. TA DA.

/user alacants out

[gloomwitchwrites]

Not a request I just would really love to know how you come up with your ideas? You put out a lot of content and it always unique! How do you do it??

Oh my gosh! Hi! Yes! Of course! I'd love to answer this question.

Ha. Okay. This is going to take some explaining, so hang in there as I ramble (because I will ramble.)

If you were to crack open my skull and peer inside, you'd find a nest of noise. It's loud in my head (it's anxiety and likely something undiagnosed) and I am thinking about anything and everything all at once. Really, I should be medicated, but since I'm not, I channel all that energy into being productive because I literally cannot be alone with my thoughts. I require constant distraction.

Writing is that distraction for me. It's very soothing for my brain when I take all that noise and focus it on something I really love, and it always produces productivity and creativity as a result.

My best friend is always like "how the fuck do you write so much??" and it's because it's a coping mechanism. It's a bit like therapy in a way.

When it comes to the What If & Imagines series, I cannot take all the credit. All except a handful of prompts have come directly from reader requests. While those specifically don't come from my head, they do act as a great starting point. I think about possible angles by considering how I believe the characters would act in those scenarios. I start small, and then expand if I think I need to. I also go into them knowing that I do not want to rehash the same thing four times, and I go out of my way to make sure each is different.

But beyond that, I'm always thinking and questioning and considering how I can turn something on its head. And I don't mean that just for my CoD work. I take that mentality with all the fandoms I write for. I carry a little notebook with me, my iphone's notes app is a literal jungle, the Google Docs app on my phone is also abused, and I write down anything that I'm like "I need to keep that." Sometimes if all I can grab is a sticky note, I'll use that and then shove it in my purse. And if I'm in the car, I'll dictate my thoughts through Siri to add them into my notes app or send an email to myself (through Bluetooth y'all; don't text and drive.)

I also schedule time to write, and I make a to-do list of what I want to accomplish during that writing session. It helps focus my brain.

I also stay heavily organized. Like heavily organized. I have lots of spreadsheets that are color-coded, and I purposefully assign "due dates" because it tricks my brain into thinking "you must get this done because it is assigned" and WHAM, I'm plugging away at the keyboard.

When I get stuck, I only ever reach out to my bestie. Sometimes I just need a fresh pair of eyes when I'm rolling ideas around in my head but something is missing and I have no idea what it might be. She's great about throwing a few suggestions my way that has me looking at the story differently, or considering a prompt from another angle.

But it's important to note that what works for me isn't going to work for everyone. I'm sure one of you reading this right now is thinking "Poppy, you need to fucking chill." And friend, I wholeheartedly agree. But if I'm not being productive through managing my anxiety-induced head noise, then I'm running on pure rage and spite.

Anyway! I hope that answered your question! Thank you so much for sending it in, and also kudos to y'all who read through all that. <3

~ Poppy

[nameless-jamie]

Hiii, if you're not to busy would you write PA'S first day or so working for Jamie? I loved reading the interview and I'd love to see them getting to know each other, PA meeting the team and their first impression of her etc.

Thankssss ☺️

First Day

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

A/N: Hi! Very good idea, here's a little view into Y/n's first day working with Jamie, time-wise it happens directly after The Interview.

TW: cursing

Y/N had worked for lots of difficult people before—divas, athletes, celebrities who thought the world revolved around them. But nothing quite prepared her for Jamie Tartt.

Not that he was difficult, necessarily. Just… a lot.

From the moment she stepped into Nelson Road for her first official day, Jamie was already waiting for her outside the locker room, arms crossed, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Oi, there she is. Thought you might change your mind, maybe chicken out,” he teased, falling into step beside her.

Y/N shot him a look. “Why? Because you’re so impossible to work with?”

“Nah.” Jamie grinned. “’Cause you’d be too busy thinkin’ about me, to get any work done, love.”

She let out a sharp laugh. “Right. Because that’s exactly what I was doing last night—thinking about my job.”

Jamie smirked, nudging her shoulder. “Don’t worry, love. You’ll get used to it.”

The locker room was loud—boots thudding against the benches, voices overlapping in easy banter. The second Y/N stepped inside, the energy shifted. It was her first day as Jamie's assistant and she knew nobody.

Dani Rojas was the first to react, practically bounding over. “New friend!”

Before she could respond, she was wrapped in a very enthusiastic hug.

“Dani, mate, let the girl breathe,” Isaac chuckled, pulling him off. He turned to Y/N with a grin. “Welcome to Richmond. You Jamie’s new babysitter?”

“Assistant, actually.” Y/N corrected.

“Same thing,” Colin muttered under his breath.

Jamie scoffed, draping an arm over her shoulder like they’d known each other forever. “She ain’t just anyone's assistant. She’s my personal assistant.”

“Poor thing,” Sam said with a sympathetic smile. “Do you need help escaping? Blink twice.”

Y/N smirked. “Don't worry, I signed up for this.”

Jamie turned to her, looking mock-offended. “You sayin’ workin’ for me’s a punishment?”

“I’m saying I’ll probably have my hands full,” she replied, arching a brow. “Which reminds me—you have a physio session in twenty minutes, followed by a media meeting.”

Jamie made a face. “Borin', let's not do that, huh?”

Y/N patted his chest with a saccharine smile. “Too bad, Jamie. You'll definitely do it.”

The locker room erupted with laughter.

“I like her,” Isaac said.

“She’s gonna put him in his place,” Colin added.

Jamie rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smirk. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Just jealous that you don't have an assistant. You bought a shite car you can't even drive, instead!"

If Jamie was testing her patience, he was doing a great job.

By noon, she’d already dealt with his half-mumbled excuses for skipping meetings, misplaced gym bag “I swear I left it right there, Y/N”, and at least three attempts to distract her with compliments.

“You know,” he mused as she checked his schedule on her tablet, “it’s kinda nice, havin’ someone look after me.”

She didn’t look up. “So nice that you’re actually listening to me now?”

Jamie grinned. “Don’t push it, babe.”

She glanced at him, unimpressed. “Jamie.”

“Y/N.”

“Physio. Now.”

He huffed but stood up, stretching exaggeratedly. “Alright, alright. But only ‘cause you asked so nicely.”

Y/N shook her head as he strolled off, smirking like he’d won something.

Yeah. This job was gonna be interesting.

By the time Y/N managed to physically usher Jamie into the physio room—because apparently, telling him wasn’t enough—she was already reconsidering all her life choices.

“I don’t get why I gotta do this every day,” Jamie whined, plopping down onto the treatment table like a sulking child.

Y/N crossed her arms. “Because you’re a professional athlete, and keeping your body in top condition is kind of your job.”

Jamie smirked, stretching out in an unnecessarily dramatic way. “You checkin’ out my body, love?”

Y/N exhaled slowly. “You exhaust me.”

“I grow on people,” he replied, grinning. “Like mold.”

Before she could fire back, a gruff voice interrupted.

“The fuck is goin’ on in here? Tartt, you're not allowed to bring girls in here remember?”

Roy Kent stood in the doorway, arms crossed, looking deeply unimpressed. His sharp gaze flickered from Jamie to Y/N.

Jamie perked up. “Oi, Coach, this is Y/N—me new personal assistant.”

Roy grunted. “Christ. Higgins really got you a fuckin’ babysitter?”

“Assistant,” Y/N corrected, offering her hand. “Nice to meet you, Coach Kent.”

Roy eyed her, then her outstretched hand, before finally shaking it. “Yeah, you’ll quit in about a week.”

“Come on, Give me at least two,” she deadpanned.

Jamie cackled. “See? She’s funny.”

Roy muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like fuckin’ hell before jerking a thumb toward Jamie. “Make sure this prick doesn’t fuck up his knee again.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Y/N said, sending Jamie a pointed look. “I’ve got him under control.”

Jamie just wiggled his eyebrows at her.

After dealing with Jamie’s endless complaints about stretching and Roy’s ever-present scowl, Y/N finally managed to get a moment to herself—only for approximately three seconds before she heard:

“Oi, love!”

Y/N turned to see Jamie jogging toward her, still sweaty from training, grinning like he had nothing better to do than annoy her.

“You do know I have a name, right?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, yeah, Y/N,” Jamie said, testing out the sound of it like he was deciding whether he liked it. Apparently, he did, because he nodded approvingly. “Just makin’ sure you weren’t bored without me.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” she said dryly. “Your to-do list is very entertaining.”

Jamie groaned. “You’re obsessed with that thing.”

“I have to be,” Y/N shot back. “Otherwise, you’d be wandering around like a lost puppy.”

Jamie grinned. “Ah, so you care about me.”

Before Y/N could argue, a voice interrupted.

“Well, well, well, if it ain’t the person tasked with keepin’ Jamie Tartt in line.”

Y/N turned to find Ted Lasso and Coach Beard standing nearby, both watching the interaction with interest.

Ted stuck out a hand, his usual sunny grin in place. “Ted Lasso. Pleasure to meet ya.”

“Y/N,” she said, shaking his hand. “And trust me, keeping Jamie in line is a full-time job.”

Ted chuckled. “Oh, I believe it.” He glanced at Jamie. “She givin’ you a hard time already, buddy?”

Jamie scoffed. “Nah, she loves bossin’ me around.”

Beard, who had been silently observing, finally spoke up. “Think she’s got her work cut out for her.”

Ted nodded. “Yep. You ever try to wrangle a raccoon on Red Bull? ‘Cause that’s about what you’re dealin’ with here.”

Y/N smirked. “Sounds about right.”

Jamie gasped, placing a hand over his chest. “I’m sittin’ right here, you lot.”

Ted patted his shoulder. “We know, buddy.”

After the team finished training, Y/N spent the afternoon reorganizing Jamie’s schedule, answering emails he had blatantly ignored for months, and figuring out how the hell she was supposed to manage someone who thrived on chaos.

She was typing up notes on her tablet when Jamie dropped into the seat next to her, stretching his legs out.

“Busy?” he asked, peeking over at her screen.

“Very.”

Jamie hummed, tilting his head. “You’re good at this, y’know.”

Y/N glanced at him, surprised. “At what?”

He gestured vaguely. “Bossin’ me around. Keepin’ up. Most people just get annoyed and then they quit.”

She smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m very annoyed.”

Jamie grinned, nudging her knee with his. “Still here, though.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “For now.”

Jamie winked. “You sure you'll last longer than a week?”

Y/N leaned in slightly. “I bet I’ll last longer than you think.”

Jamie’s smirk widened. “We’ll see, love.”

And with that, she realized something very important—

This job?

Yeah. It was gonna be interesting. Life-changing even.

[tsukihotaru]

Movie Werehog Idea

If I don't type this out it's going to drive me up a literal wall. It won't leave my fuckin head. So here we go! (ALSO IF ANYONE WANTS TO WRITE THIS KNOCK YOURSELF OUT. I'd love to see others interpretation of this idea)

Set right after the 3rd movie. Two months after the eclipse canon event, Sonic is kidnapped by gun (upon Rockwell's orders) while he was on a nightly run to think about Shadow. (This is so Sonadow, but tbh it doesn't have to be, in just desperate).

He is taken to a secret base where GUN starts tests on Sonic to make HIM into the weapon they want, since they 'lost' Shadow. Sonic fights tooth and nail, never shutting up and trying his best to drive the scientists nuts while he thinks of an escape plan. But before he could, he is injected with a substance GUN obtained from deep within the earth. They dubbed it 'Dark Gaia energy', thinking it's directly related to the old god Gaia.

Upon injection, sonic transforms painfully into his Werehog form, after this the tests grow more brutal. Combat, healing capabilities, bodily functions, they tested it all. Giving him a collar to keep track of his progress.

But when GUN brought in a live person (a prisoner on death row or something) to fight, Sonic refuses. No matter what they did, sonic didn't fight against the defenseless human. That is, until they activated a secret aspect of his collar, where it sends an intense amount of electrical energy mixed with dark Gaia energy. He blacks out after it, when he comes back to his senses, he was covered in blood and staring at the mangled body of the human prisoner.

Sonic grew quiet after that, his mind swimming with self hatred. About how he's to dangerous now, that he'll hurt others. And after he almost bit the arm off of a scientists, they attacked a muzzle to his head and gave him special gloves that his claws can't penetrate.

So while all THAT happens, Sonic is gone for half a year. His family tries to find him in any way they can, exploring around the world trying to find their blue blur. But no matter what they did, it was like he just vanished.

While on their search, they came across a very alive Shadow. The family was reluctant about the hedgehog at first, but shadow explained he had no intentions of harming then or anyone, and that he was sorry for his past actions. But upon learning Sonic was missing, shadow Insisted on helping find him. (After using the emeralds, they formed a connection of sorts. But that connection has a range so they can't always feel each other unless they're within 5 miles of each other)

So that's, kinda it tbh. I haven't thought much past that. I toyed with the idea of sonic finally breaking out and running, or his family and shadow figuring out where he is and go to rescue him. But nothing legit or solid.

OH!! and he isn't very big! Like he's bulky and fluffy, but not much taller than he usually is.

Well that's all I guess. Hope at least someone will find this interesting lmao

[polaroidpascal]

happy anniversary || frankie morales

AO3 || MASTERLIST || PART 1

pairing : frankie morales x f!reader

summary : pt 2 to valentine's day! frankie made your valentine's day – and five year anniversary – one to remember for sure. now as you rest in the bath together, the two of you reminisce on the first time you met.

tags : M-18+, no use of y/n, lots and lots of kissing (again. im sorry. i just wanna kiss him so badly.), heart-achingly sweet (i'd apologize but no i won't), taking a stroll down memory lane, something about a ring? idk!, unprotected p in v sex, cumming together, creampie

WC: 1.6k

a/n : happy valentine's day!! had to squeeze this buzzer beater entry in before midnight for me because i've been wanting to write a pt 2 for this story for literally a year now and i think there's no better time than one year after posting pt 1 🥹 i just love this guy SO FUCKING MUCH and i know he would be the most loving partner to ever grace this earth. okay, i'll stop yapping about him, i hope y'all enjoy!! 💜

“You wanna go rest in the bath for a bit?”

“Mmm…” you hum. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

He carefully rises to his feet, making his way to the bathroom to run the water. “Hey, baby?”

“Yeah?”

“What was that thing you said about a ring?”

“Shit–” you hear him curse. He comes back with a slight urgency in his walk and kisses you… long… When he pulls away, he brings his hand up to your chin and whispers, “You never heard a thing,” planting a cute peck on your lips. You laugh at him before watching him disappear back into the bathroom.

You lay in your bed, bare and radiating heat, while Frankie runs a bath for the two of you to share, and you feel so full of love for him remembering everything he's done for you today to make it special.

The breakfast, driving you to work, the dinner, the flowers– god, and everything he just did to you...

You lay with your arm covering your eyes, a deep sigh leaving your nose as you settle into the warm afterglow feeling of it all, but it's quickly broken with a peck to your exposed lips.

Frankie peels your arm away from your face, leaning over the side of the bed to lock lips with you, a gentle but deep kiss to pull you back to reality.

"Bath is ready, amor," he says with a smile, standing up straight and reaching a hand down for you to take. He helps you off the bed, your legs a bit wobbly walking towards the bathroom.

And as if his surprises would ever stop, the door opens to reveal a dimly lit bathroom, illuminated only by even more candles scattered everywhere, some stray rose petals littering the tiles, and a big bathtub with bubbles stacked higher than you've ever seen.

Frankie steps into the bath first, sinking below the mist of bubbles making you giggle with the slight wincing he does from the hot water. He holds his arms out to you and you follow, wincing a bit as well sinking under the hot water and settling in his lap. His arms wrap around your middle burying his face into your neck when you lean into him, both of you exhaling in content.

"Thank you," you sigh, a smile faint on your face but apparent in your voice.

"Hm?" he mutters, sleepy and mumbly, flirting with sleep curled into your neck.

"I said thank you. For today. For the last five years. Just... I don't think I say it enough."

He sits up in an instant, grabbing your chin and turning you towards him. His big brown puppy eyes burn holes in your gaze. "Amor... you don't have to thank me. You know that, right?"

All you can do is stare back at him, watching his eyes search your face and you see something flash across his eyes. "Can I tell you a story?"

"Uh... y-yeah. What story?"

He pauses for a minute before a smile – the most gentle one you've ever seen – creeps across his face. "When we first met."

It was a party, one of those where you know the host but not the rest of the crowd. You and Santi had been best friends as kids, but you weren't familiar with most of the people there, the majority of them being friends he made at boot camp, so you found yourself being–

"–a little bit of a wallflower. But I noticed you right away. It took a lot of liquid courage to go up to you, y'know."

You chuckle. "No way you were tipsy when you came over."

"Oh, was I tipsy... it took three rum and cokes and a literal shove from Santi to make me walk your way– hey! Don't laugh!"

Frankie walked up next to you without you really noticing. "Uh, not much one for dancing, huh?" His voice snapped you out of your daze, your mind having wandered to thoughts of how much longer you'd stay and what you had to do tomorrow.

When you looked up, you didn't know who to expect (mostly because you didn't know anyone there), but you definitely didn't expect to see such a cute boy trying to strike a conversation with you.

"Um... n-no. No, not really," you stutter.

"It was like divine intervention that that song played just in time to ask you to dance."

The slow music filled the air as Frankie craned his head over to the dance floor. "Would you like to...?" he said, extending his hand to you.

Maybe it was Frankie's charm, or maybe it was a little bit of liquid courage for you, too, but the next thing you knew, he had his arm around your waist and your hands were clasped behind his neck. The two of you swayed to the music, you following his lead and him keeping a gentleman-like hold on you, eyes never leaving your face.

"I don't think I ever told you how pretty you were that night."

You think back and huff a bit of a laugh. "No?"

"No. Like a complete idiot."

You start to laugh, remembering what really happened.

"You're laughing again. Why are you laughing?" he chuckles, squeezing you a little closer to his warm torso, the bubbles slowly disappearing from the water.

"Well, I hate to skip your little story but... you do remember how that night ended, right?"

"Oh, I do..."

That night ended in the backseat of Frankie's truck, in the driveway of your house. A hot mess of huffs and puffs and moans, the body of the truck rocking around in the dead middle of the night.

Frankie couldn't keep his hands off of you, never letting his touch leave your body as you bounced in his lap.

"Jesus... you're so fucking beautiful... feels so good..." he moaned.

"Fuck... fuck, I think I'm gonna–"

"You couldn't stop calling me pretty."

"Oh, yeah. Right..." he says, bashful as can be with a blush spreading across his broad chest, shiny with the last remnants of bubbles from the water.

You turn your head to kiss him, your mouths gently brushing together as your hand reaches to hold his face.

Frankie pulls away first, thumb stroking your cheek staring into your eyes.

"You're just as pretty as that day, y'know. You get prettier every day, amor."

And that feeling comes back. That heart-swelling, chest-tightening feeling from all the love you have for him. You can't help the tears that threaten your waterline welling up uncontrollably.

You turn your body to face him, straddling his lap and draping your hands over his shoulders, crashing your lips together in a deep, slow kiss. You can feel him between your legs, his cock starting to twitch as blood flows back into it from your kissing and quiet moans.

Frankie breaks the kiss one more time. "You asked about... um..."

"Yes?"

"The, uh... you asked about... the ring thing..."

Your heart flutters in your chest, your breath hitching in anticipation.

He lets out a nervous chuckle. "Well, this isn't really how I thought it'd go but..."

"Oh my god are you–"

"N-no! Well, not 'no' but... I just... man, I'm doing a terrible job, aren't I?" he jokes, the two of you giggling together.

You kiss him again, your mind wandering and realizing that, while odd, might be the most perfect way he could have asked. Or presented the idea. Or just anything.

Intimate, just the two of you. Personal, reminiscing on when you met. Memorable, naked in a bathtub on your fifth anniversary seems pretty unforgettable in its own way.

So, in some strange, specific way... it's perfect.

"Yes..." you mumble against his lips, barely able to annunciate it right.

"'Yes'? Did you say 'yes'?"

You nod, whimpering against his lips. "Yes... want that ring... want you, Frankie..." you moan between kisses.

You feel his cock twitch again, groaning into your mouth. "Mhm... want you too..." His hands roam across your back, his touch unable to leave your body. Some things never change, you think.

"Promise I'm gonna do this the right way, okay?... Gonna get you flowers... gonna... get you dressed up... not just naked in the tub..."

"You already did those things today, y'know... there's no 'right way'..." He looks at you with those puppy eyes again. "I think this is just as perfect as if you took me to some pretty hillside or something."

And its his turn for his heart to flutter, a tingle spreading from head to toe before the two of you melt into each other, impossibly close as you press your chest to his, your lips together, his hips grinding up into you and yours grinding against his length.

He reaches under the cooling water grabbing his cock and lining it up with you, slowly sliding back into you for the second time tonight.

"Fuck..." you say, a breathy moan slipping from your lips.

"God, it never gets old..." Frankie says as you slide all the way down taking him up to the hilt, letting you adjust before slowly rocking your hips back and forth on his lap.

As many times as you've been like this with him, nothing compares to this time. You can't tell where you end and he begins, your bodies melting into one another and your tongues tangling in knots. The water sloshes around you as you lazily grind against him, the wiry hairs at his base rubbing against your clit perfectly.

He doesn't stand a chance with the way you pulse around him, his cock throbbing, riding the edge of an orgasm as quick as a fucking teenager. You're not any different, feeling him jump inside you and hearing him moan against your mouth.

You keep grinding against him, keep moaning into him, until you both come undone together, whining into each other's mouths and holding each other tight. You squeeze his cock tight as his hips twitch and he jolts inside of you, painting your walls once again.

You pant against each other, your forehead resting against his neck as he holds you tight.

"I love you," he whispers, running his hands up and down your back.

You can't help the smile that blooms across your face, nuzzling further into him and kissing his neck. "I love you too, Frankie."

[monarchberrysblog]

𝑼𝒏𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍

part 2 — take me out to the ballgame 🧢

an inspired baby daddy au from @yougavemeyourheartyouknow as I wanted to add my own spin to it

🍼 baby daddy! miguel o’hara x fem! reader 🍼

“I think I like you best when you're just with me and no one else.”

⚾ synopsis — your paths keep colliding! and what do you do? go out on a date… maybe?

⚾ content warning/tags — miguel talks about baseball (lmao), mentions of baseball positions and innings, first–date shenanigans (?), there really isn't a date but there is (idk how to explain), subtle sexual tension, silly playful teasing

⚾ word count: +1.4k words (ik its short. Don't come for me pls)

⚾ author’s note — here we are! this was honestly a fic waiting to be continued as I have gotten busy with university and rarely have the time to write for funsies. Life got too real for a moment but here we are! I hope you guys enjoy! Happy Valentine’s Day!!

🍟 not proofread! 🍟

The chime from your phone snapped you out of your daze, directing your attention away from your laptop. The notification bar appeared on your lock screen, showing a message from Miguel. The screen slowly faded to black before the phone screen flicked back on with a new notification—double texting. You tap on your phone screen, allowing the device to open the unread notification. “I got two tickets to the Dodgers and Yankees, and my brother can’t come, wanna join? I’ll pay for your snacks if you'd like to join.”

“A Dodgers game…” You mumble to yourself. The laptop that was once on your lap was now moved to your couch’s cushion instead. The excitement churned your lower stomach, waking up the butterflies in your gut. Your eyes dart onto Bella, her small body curled up on one of your cushions. Her soft breathing is evident, her sides rising and falling into a steady tempo. “Should I go to the ballgame, Bella?” You ask the canine as if she were your parent.

The soft pets against her back slowly snapped her away as she slowly stretched, her tail wagging happily. She lets out a happy yip before pawing her way to your lap immediately. Her dark eyes looked up at you with a glisten, encouraging you to attend the date, if you can even call it that.

A date… A first date? Is it even a date? It’s just a hangout, right? He just has an extra ticket and he didn’t want it to go to waste…

You think for a moment, rather you take ten minutes to think, despite your gut pleading with you to go.

“Should I go, Bella?” You ask her again, picking her up, holding her up like your infant. She quietly yawns before licking your face and glasses, leaving a smudgy trail behind on the dirty lens. “I take that as a yes…” You mumbled, her soft puppy licks slowly coming to an end. “But I don't know! I like being around him; he makes me laugh, and I don't know if he even feels the same way with me…” You sigh, gently placing the happy, yapping puppy on the couch. She tilts her head to the side before putting her two front paws on your thigh and kneads, pleading for you to go to the “date.”

“I know it’s too soon to say it, but I feel it.” You cover your face in frustration, reclining back onto the couch. You hold back for a moment, your thumbs hovering over the keyboard. The simple question is enough to drive you into madness, but leaving the message unread is a dirty feeling. You move your thumbs quickly, swiping to the notes app, letting your thumbs throw up incoherent sentences that make no sense until your brain eases down.

It felt childish enough that you waited another ten minutes to respond, but having to open your notes app to type a laid-back response is terrible enough as it is. You didn't want to look desperate.

“Sure, what day and time?”

The lively crowd in the stadium filled the ambiance as you munched on your cheese fries, the same fries that would inevitably give you stomach cramps at the end of the night. But the cheesy bacon concoction only had you return for seconds as you nibbled on the seasoned fry. Your eyes are glued on the green field before you as his arm is wrapped around your shoulder. “Hey, I'm gonna get us something to drink. Do you have a drink preference?”

You momentarily ponder as a small glob of nacho cheese stuck on your cheek. “A margarita, please.” You beg, looking up at him from where he stood. He chuckles before licking at the pad of his thumb, wiping away the nacho cheese and tasting the salty yet creamy sauce. “I’ll be back in a moment.” He chuckles as he awkwardly moves down the aisle, trying not to step on anyone’s shoe. You giggle when he stumbles up the steps. He whistles at you and gives you a playful wink before tripping over his feet.

You giggle before he leaves you at your seat, and you continue to enjoy the game as the pitcher pitches a perfect strike. The crowd roars in mixed reactions, some cheering while others protest.

Your teeth nibble at the plastic prongs of the fork, sitting with anticipation of the next pitch. Everyone in your row seemed to have the same nerves rattling their core, seeing the pitcher raise their arm, ready for another serve.

“Did I miss anything?” His voice brings you back as he sits, holding the two beverages in one hand. “No, just a couple of fowls and strikes.” You keep your eyes on the field before Miguel steals a couple of french fries from your tray without your knowledge. “Hmm, this pitcher, Sato, definitely knows what he’s doing,” Miguel mumbles, popping a fry into his mouth. “I think a little too well…” You state, watching the batter hit the pitch and witnessing the baseball hit the fowl post.

“And there they go, time for the Dodgers to bat,” Miguel claps his hands together, seeing the players run to gather their needed items. He chuckles before taking a sip of his Dos X and wraps his arms around you once more. “Look at that!” He tilts his chin towards the large screen, which will show entertainment for the next five minutes. “Kiss cam.” He chuckles, seeing a couple fall victim to their fifteen seconds of fame. The couple shook their heads before the crowd booed at them, encouraging them for a smooch.

“Do you think that is gonna land on us?” He asks, watching the next couple fall victim. “Nah,” you dismiss, taking another bite of fries.

A series of different couples shared the same thing: a small, innocent kiss. But then the crowd cheers fill your section as the camera is now on the both of you, catching the both of you at your worst moment: you eating filthy stadium food and Miguel drinking the mediocre beer. You choke on a small chunk of fries as Miguel spits his drink into the glass bottle. The section booed at the two of you, bringing you back to the humiliation you felt as a preteen when you didn't do a dare.

Miguel shakes his head and makes a sawing gesture at his neck, telling them to move on to the next pair. “It's our first date!” He yells, but his voice is barely audible through the books from your section. When the camera did so, you sighed in relief, reaching for a napkin to wipe your lips.

“Watch, they're gonna put the camera on us after them.” You quip, quickly swig your cocktail, and place it into the stand’s cup holder. It seemed God wasn't on your side as the camera panned back to the two of you. The crowd only cheered loudly and demanded a kiss.

“Spoke too soon, mamas.” He chuckles, gently tugging you close to him without your knowledge. You groan, frustration coursing in your veins. “Let's give them what they want.” His voice drops when he whispers the six-worded sentence to you. “With what I was eating? Hell no—”

His lips coaxed the harsh words out of you, silencing you immediately after. The gesture is soft but silences the voices inside your mind. An aloe gel on a scolding, hot burn. He slowly pulled away as the crowd cheered, but the color on your cheeks only proved it.

“Now was that so hard?” You sat on your seat with an open mouth, enough space for your soul and dignity to creep out of your lips and land on the concrete floors of the stand, floating away from you. “No, not at all…”

/

The wind from the spring breeze swept your contorting mind, whispering your messy words to be straightened up. But the simple whisper of the breeze made your brain into mush. The walk back to your car felt more protracted than expected, mainly because you parked closer to the stadium. “Can I be honest?” His voice cuts the silence between the two of you. You swallow dryly at his words—nervousness creeps into your gut.

“…yeah.” You choke up, clearing your throat after. “About the tickets…” You held onto the non-existent hope that he enjoyed being around you.

“I lied when I said my brother couldn't make it. I wanted you to go with me.”

A white noise filled your ears before you can conjure up an answer. But your words finally come back at bay, a single sentence comes out. “Why?”

A single worded question with endless answers. But there was only one answer that can ease your storm of a brain.

“Because I wanted you to come with me. I like being around you.”

tag list: @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @opaloharas @hyjionie @zaunsin @keiva1000 @slushycoookie @miguelsfavwife @ilovetaquitosmmmm @migueloharasoulmate

[palettepainter]

[defiledtomb]

4 other applicants have come in clutch for the apartment I'm hunting. If I'm still eligible I'll know tomorrow, but only to be called for a showing, if the others in the queue accept and have better conditions than me, I'll lose it. But my agent is still hopeful. Fingers crossed.

[pinkseas]

i miss writing so fucking much 😭😭😭

[auroras-void]

The worse the current situation gets, the more pissed off I get talking to liberals.

Like, academically I have always known that liberalism is deeply hypocritical, and they're at best, situational allies. But, like, this shit is getting real, and they still talk about this like it's a game.

They're still talking about the laws, precedents, institutions. They're still making quips about the orange man. Pointing out his hypocrisy as if anyone has ever given a shit except them.

"there's a hundred years of precedent behind that one" as if the Supreme Court can be trusted with anything whatsoever

"Ah he can only do that to enemies of the state" as if he doesn't decide who the enemies are. As if being an enemy of the state should deprive someone of their humanity.

"I'm more worried about the Islamic terrorists he's going to create by antagonizing the middle east" as if, just, honestly what the fuck... I don't even have words for that one...

"oh it's fine, he won't come for us" as if we aren't already at the first line of the poem. It might have different names but it's the same story: "First they came for the illegal immigrants..."

I had someone seriously try to argue that "don't worry the senate majority leader said he kinda didn't like him once, he'll stop this" and just like, how the fuck can you say that with a straight face?

It's all as if they don't see the aspiring dictator and his council of theocrats explaining their plans to destroy the world in plain English. As if everything we had that was supposed to stop this from happening hasn't already failed. As if millions of people aren't about to die.

Like, I understand upholding our institutions and using the law to slow him down is incredibly important right now. My sincere hope is that he gets tangled up in this for long enough he doesn't have time to change the laws and secure the keys to power tightly enough to crown himself king.

But fuck man, even like half of my best case scenarios right now still involve me leaving the country. Even just the stuff that's already explicitly in his power to do is fucking evil. Fascism isn't just a thing we're worried about happening in the future it's here right now.

This isn't his presidency, this is a Heritage Foundation presidency. I don't give a shit what dumb shit he says he's so blatantly and openly a puppet for them he might as well have strings coming out of his wrists. This man does not give a shit that he is president, he just knows if he gives the theocrats what they want and if he signs what they put in front of him, he gets to play golf for 4 years and become richer and more powerful than he's ever been.

There is a shadowy organization controlling the government, that has been in politics for decades, is powerful and well connected. An organization that has spent every one of those decades trying to kill me and anyone like me, and it's not a wild conspiracy, it's empirically verifiable fact, being openly published to the world.

I feel like I'm going crazy, watching what's going on right now, I keep explaining it to people and I sound crazy too, but then they listen to what I'm saying and they can't dispute any of it. So either I'm just way too good at arguing why things are dire, or this shit is real, and we're watching history repeat itself.

And these fucking liberals are here acting as if they aren't included in the last line of that poem. As if I'm not right in front of them terrified because I know I'm like the second or third at best.

I've already had to cancel my name change because of what's on the horizon. This isn't a game, this isn't a joke. "Running away to Canada" isn't hyperbole to joke about at a cocktail party to me... I am filling out my passport paperwork and I can barely hold my fucking pen straight because I'm so scared. I'm so scared. I have to go back to therapy because I'm genuinely worried I could be on the verge of a psychotic break over this shit. I'm so fucking paranoid now. The echoes of history are screaming in my head. I look at the world in front of us and all I can see is lovecraft, a cosmically terrifying planetary work machine choking all corners of the globe, fueled by blood and suffering, with no goal other than to perpetuate itself by any means necessary. I've seen it's face. It didn't have a face before...

Like I'm at my fucking limit, why the fuck should I have any expectation that liberalism will suddenly start working now. Why should I believe any part of this system was ever actually designed to protect me.

I know right now, we're only at the south bank of the Rubicon... it's not completely over yet... but we've seen this before... Caesar didn't stop there... and neither did anyone else...

If me and my friends weren't still fighting to keep each other above water, I'd have been dead last week.

Humanity was not built for this, we were never built for this...

I wasn't supposed to see this... I wasn't supposed to know all this...

I was just supposed to be this weird looking monkey picking berries in the forest and sharing them with my friends...

How do I go to my desk on Monday and act like everything is normal...