#i can't wait to write something like this

[goodluckclove]

when I was a night manager at a terrible Denny's in California a woman came in at like 2am who was waiting for some social services agency to open up. I can't remember the exact situation but it was pretty grim and she was so desperate to make sure she was seen as soon as possible that I guess she just wasn't going to sleep, and came here to kill time before getting there the second they opened.

I was 18. She was maybe in her 30s. I kept her coffee filled and at one point got her free juice and maybe some like pancake puppies or something. I checked on her a lot and listened to her situation. At one point she mentioned liking to write poetry and I gave her a pen and some paper. We ended up trading poems. She stayed there for like four hours?

It feels a little tough that I don't remember what she was going through. I guess it isn't important in the grand scheme of things. I hope she's doing okay.

idk thinking about how sometimes you have to show up for people you aren't that close to, because sometimes you're just the person who's there. sometimes you invite a new friend to a party and end up having to sit with them through a panic attack. sometimes you run into an acquaintance on their worst day and they need to talk about what happened. sometimes someone is crying in a stairwell and you're the only one around to ask if they're okay. and none of this is "trauma dumping" or whatever the fuck it's just being there for people because you're the one in the room with them.

[cherry-coffees]

Silk Ribbons and Captured Hearts

Caitlyn x girly girl!reader

cw: 2K words | no warnings, just Caitlyn and her lovely femme <3

-----------------

Caitlyn is infatuated with you.

Your relationship with Caitlyn is somewhere on the line between acquaintances and friends, running in the same high circles. Your family, much like the Kirammans, is respected and known within Piltover. You've met Caitlyn on many occasions: galas, banquets, other fancy events your parents had dragged you to. 

Most of your time spent together had come from conversing casually at events, or during council meetings whenever you both had been waiting for your parents to finish their work. You’re a few years younger than Caitlyn, so she had offered to help you with any work you had been doing at Piltover Academy. You were a good student as well, matching her intellect. Caitlyn, despite trying to focus on your homework, would find her gaze drawn to you. Watching your eyes light up whenever you talked about something you were interested in, a small, unconscious smile gracing your lips, had easily captivated her.

That was when you were both younger, though. Now, she can't help but take notice of the beautiful woman you had become. All short skirts and fitted tops, sundresses and carefully chosen accessories, you’re like a warm sunbeam that Caitlyn can’t draw her eyes away from. 

It all starts with Caitlyn going shopping in the main streets of Piltover, and she steps into a local boutique filled with cute clothes and handmade jewelry. It's not really her style, but her eyes catch on a stand filled with silk ribbon, and it reminds her of the ribbons you occasionally wear in your hair. And oh, you'd just look so pretty in that shade of purple and-

She leaves with three of them.

A few days later, you’re at a statue unveiling of some old general in Piltover’s army, and Caitlyn sees you again. And fuck you just look so pretty in your white maxi skirt and cropped tank that shows off just a hint of midriff, and Caitlyn can’t stop staring. She finally gets herself together, glancing down at the lavender silk ribbon in her hand. Should she give it to you now? Should she wait? What if you didn’t like it? Worse, what if you don’t like her even after figuring out she’s smitten with you?

Caitlyn immediately clams up, deciding it’s better to give it to you anonymously. She darts off to the area where everyone’s bags and coats are under the guise of finding something she had forgotten in her bag. Once there, she grabs a notepad from her own bag and writes a note:

I thought this would look lovely on you. 

Yours,

Anonymous 

After attaching it to the ribbon and quietly slipping back into the crowd, Caitlyn can’t really focus on the ceremony. She tries, she really does, but the sound of your casual laughter in conversation unwillingly draws her attention. She also tries not to eye you when you politely make conversation with Caitlyn’s own parents, but, well, she’s long since given up on that one. Maybe she’ll have better self-control in the future.

______

Any thoughts of self-control die the moment you step into the coffee shop where Caitlyn is sitting with Jayce. Because you’re just so beautiful, wearing some lavender sundress and sandals and holy shit is that-?

Caitlyn’s mouth goes dry at the sight of the silky lavender ribbon in your hair — the one she had bought for you — tied around two pigtails hold your hair half-up. She can’t tear her eyes away, even as you step up to order and smile brightly at the barista. So much so that Jayce turns around to see what she’s looking at before turning back to her with a puzzled expression. “Uh, Cait? You good?”

She snaps her jaw shut, nodding tightly. “Yeah,” she lets her eyes linger on you for a second longer. “Everything’s perfectly fine.”

Jayce glances in your direction once again before a knowing smile dawns on his face. “Oh,” he turns back to Caitlyn, eyes smug and teasing. “You like-"

“Shut up,” Caitlyn hisses, glaring deeply at him, half because she doesn’t want you to overhear this and half because she doesn’t want Jayce to have another thing to hold over her. 

Jayce just raises his eyebrows, taking a sip of tea as if waiting for her to explain.

Caitlyn just sighs, glancing down at her own pristine teacup. “I- how can I not?” She mumbles, glancing at you. “She’s, well…perfect.”

________

And because you just had to go and look so ridiculously, effortlessly, beyond gorgeous in the lavender ribbon, of course Caitlyn has to go and buy five other colors. Because who is Caitlyn if not willing to spend her seemingly endless amounts of money on the little things her love crush likes. A tiny part of her also preens at seeing you so happy to wear something she gave you, as if she’s subtly showing everyone that you’re hers. But she’d never admit to that, of course.

And every time she manages to slip you a ribbon, she leaves another tiny note.

These suit you so much, I thought it would be a shame not to have more.

I think this color will look so nice with your hair.

Please take these ribbons as my way of telling you how beautiful you are.

Your ribbon collection continues to build: baby pink, forest green, crimson red, the lightest grey that reminds you of clouds on a cozy winter morning. You smile every time you find a new one in your bag, keeping the notes safely tucked away in a small box in your closet. You read them from time to time, gently tracing a finger over the words as if you can feel the affection they convey. 

Experimentally, with all this ribbon, you don’t confine it to just your hair. You tie it around your ankle, thinking it looks cute (Caitlyn agrees, smiles way too long when she sees it on you in passing). Then, around your wrists: a pair of bows. And when you show up at her house to drop off something from your family to the Kirammans, Caitlyn’s eyes go wide when she catches sight of the ribbon carefully tied around your upper thigh — just peeking out from the short skirt you’re wearing. 

Holy fucking shit is all Caitlyn manages to register in her mind. She doesn’t pay attention to whatever you’re talking about with her mother. She just pays attention to the gift she gave you, a symbol of her, tied around your thigh. She’s highly tempted to step forward and grab the end of it, untying it just to replace it with her hand and squeeze-

Pull yourself together.

And she does, barely. Manages to mumble out a few weak words as you depart, missing the smug smile that graces your features as you turn to leave. Misses the way you turn a little faster than necessary so your skirt spins and she gets another view of the ribbon wrapped around your thigh. You leave, Cassandra goes on with her business, and all is normal again.

You’re a strong presence in Caitlyn’s dreams that night.

______

And then one day, there’s a knock on Caitlyn’s office door, and she calls an official-sounding “come in” only for you to enter. Caitlyn stands up a little too quickly, clearing her throat and straightening her uniform. She moves out from behind her desk to face you. “This is- uh- a surprise,” Caitlyn murmurs, eyes flitting to the navy blue ribbon laced through your high ponytail, your hair half up. She’s sure she hasn’t bought you a navy ribbon yet.

“My father sent me to ask if the gala for your mother’s birthday next week will still be in your ballroom?” You ask, shifting nervously. It’s a simple question, one that you don’t really need an answer to.

Luckily, Caitlyn is too distracted to notice. She just blinks, forcing her mouth to move. “Um, right. Yes, it’s going to be held there.”

You nod, your eyes locked with her piercing blue ones. “Okay. Yeah. Sorry for the interruption, I just happened to be nearby and he, uh, wanted to know.”

Even still, Caitlyn only half registers your weak excuse. Her eyes narrow at the ribbon. It’s different than the silky ones she’s bought you: thinner and less shiny. So, instead of formulating one of her usual, sensible responses to you, she can’t help but let her curiosity spill out. “Your ribbon.”

“My-" you touch your hair lightly. “My ribbon?”

“Where is it from?” She asks, flatly. For the past weeks, the only ribbon you've been wearing has been the ones she's been giving you. Was this an old one of yours? Did you buy it recently? Or is it from someone else? Something in her chest tightens at the last idea.

She’s not prepared for the smile you flash her. “Well” you sigh, tilting your head a little as if the answer is obvious. “I thought that since my anonymous gifter keeps buying me ribbon, I should have one in her color.”

…

Wait.

It takes a second of blank staring before Caitlyn’s jaw drops. “You-" she stumbles in her wording — an extremely rare occasion she’s been taught to avoid. But all her composure is lost with you.

“Me,” your smile holds a hint of satisfaction that Caitlyn kind of just wants to scream at. Or kiss off your face. Either one.

“You knew?!” Her tone is incredulous, like she’s been so secretive that she can’t conceive how you found out she was the one gifting you these ribbons. “How?!”

“First of all, I know your handwriting. Remember how you gave me corrections on my schoolwork when we were younger and our parents had council meetings?”

“I-" Caitlyn stutters, a hue of pink dusting her cheeks. 

“And second,” you continue, not quite done. “You haven’t been very subtle about it. You seem to forget something in your bag at every event we’re at together, and then the ribbon happens to appear in mine after you come back.”

Caitlyn’s quiet for a few moments. “Oh.”

You smile. "Yeah, oh."

Caitlyn's blue eyes meet your own, devoid of her usual composure to show her slight nerves. "So...?" her voice is almost anxious.

"So," you repeat, gently reaching up to touch the navy ribbon in your hair again. The one that perfectly matches her navy Enforcer's uniform she's wearing right now. "I wore this...for you."

Caitlyn takes a shaky breath, heart pounding. "Does that mean-?"

She's cut off by your soft lips against her own. Your kiss is gentle and chaste, just a peck, and she barely has enough time to process what's happening before you pull away. "I like you," you say, your smile turning shy.

Caitlyn blinks at you, dazed. She's normally always so in command, so in control of her every action — whether that's in her Enforcer duties or her sharpshooting competitions or just her life in general — but with you, all hope of control always seems to fade. 

She steps even closer to you, gently reaching out a hand to trail along your cheek. "I like you too," she murmurs, and this time, you fear you're the one that's losing your composure because her gaze looks so loving and tender that it makes your cheeks burn. 

And when Caitlyn kisses you again, deeper this time, you allow yourself to sigh against her lips. She kisses you as if you're something fragile, something to be treasured and cared for. And you know, in that moment, that she'll do anything for you.  That, if you asked for the moon, she'd personally find away to fly amongst the stars to take it for you. 

"Are you mine?" Caitlyn asks the second she pulls away with a gentle nip to your bottom lip that makes you shiver. 

"I always have been," you mumble, letting yourself bury your face in her shoulder to hide your flushed cheeks. 

And Caitlyn just smiles, her arms snaking around your waist to pull you against her chest. "That's all I could ever ask for, darling."

[im-so-normal-iswear]

Your writing is amazing 🤩

Can I request headcanons where The Big Three hedgehogs (separately) would react with a reader who doesn’t want to be in a romantic relationship with them; not because of them specifically, but because reader doesn’t want to be in life-threatening trouble all the time. They want to live peacefully, and they can’t have that if they’re dating hedgehogs who are known for attracting danger.

Sonic villains are scary and op. I wouldn’t want to deal with them, even if it meant rejecting the coolest characters in fiction.

Yandere triple s x Reader

Sonic:

Sonic is the embodiment of freedom and excitement, living life on the edge is all he knows. When you tell him you don't want to be in a relationship with him because of the chaos he attracts, he's initially confused.

"What do you mean you don't want excitement in your life?" he asks, his grin faltering. "You're seriously saying you'd rather stay boring and safe than, y'know, live it up with me?"

You explain that it's not about being boring, it's about being genuinely weary snd concerned. Eggman, Metal Sonic, literal GODS, waiting to pop out of the woodwork aren't exactly conducive to a peaceful lifestyle. You want to enjoy life without worrying about explosions, kidnappings, or world ending disasters.

At first, Sonic brushes it off with his usual charm. "C'mon, don't be like that. I'd never let anything happen to you, you know that!" But when you stand firm, his sunny charm starts to crack.

"Are you serious?" His voice lowers, losing its playful edge. "You're really turning me down because of a little danger? You think you're safer without me?"

His words filled with disbelief and growing frustration. How could you not see that he's the guy for you? He protects you better than anyone else could. Sure, Eggman"s schemes are dangerous, but they'd be even more dangerous if he wasn't around to stop them.

As days pass, Sonic'a obsession starts to surface in ways you didn't expect. He's always watching, always. You'll look out the window and catch a fleeting blur of blue, or feel the wind shift as he speeds past. You can't shake the feeling that he's nearby, even when you're alone.

When he finally confronts you again, his tone is far less casual than before. "You don't get it, do you? If you're not with me, you're vulnerable. I can't just leave you out here, waiting for something to happen. It's too dangerous without me."

His logic twists. In his mind, your rejection only proves that you need him more. You dont want to be around him because you dont want to get hurt? He'll give you that wish. Sonic begins isolating you from anything that could "endanger" you. Friends mysteriously cancel plans. Locations you frequent suddenly close down. If you dont want to be happy with him, thats fine, he'll make sure you cant be with anyone. After all, they might "endanger you" too

Shadow:

Shadow doesn't take rejection lightly. When you tell him that you don't want a relationship because of the danger associated with him, his first reaction is silent disbelief. He stares at you, his eyes narrowing as he tries to process what he just heard.

"You think being with me is dangerous?" His voice is cold, almost offended. "I've kept you alive all this time, haven't I? Do you really think anyone else could protect you better than me?"

You try to explain that it's not about him failing to protect you. You just don't want to wake up every day wondering which new villain will target you because of your association with him. Shadow's life is crazy, and just way too "eventful", and you're not cut out for that kind of stress.

For a moment, Shadow seems to consider your words. He's calculating, always analyzing the situation for the most logical solution. But then his own head gets the better of him, and the idea of you rejecting him, for any reason, sends him into a quiet fury.

"So, you think you can live a peaceful life without me?" His tone deceptively calm. "You think you can just walk away and no one will come after you?"

It’s a veiled threat, but there's truth in his words. Shadow's enemies are ruthless, and you even being friends would have already alerted them enough of your presence by now. In his mind, letting you go isn't just reckless, it's cruel. You need him, whether you realize it or not.

Shadow begins to follow you. He's always nearby, watching from the shadows, ensuring you're safe. But his presence isn't comforting. Every time you think you've escaped his grasp, he's there, reminding you that your "peaceful" life is a fantasy.

"You just dont understand, do you? If anything, im the only thing keeping you safe."

And if you still insist on resisting? Shadow's methods become less "gentle". He's not above using force to keep you by his side. In his mind, it's all justified. After all, he's doing this for your own good.

Silver:

Silver is the most emotionally vulnerable of the three. When you tell him you don't want to be in a relationship because of the danger he attracts, his first reaction is heartbreak.

"Wait... what?" His voice cracks, and his wide, teary eyes search your face for any sign that you're joking. "You… you don’t want to be with me? Why...?"

You explain that it's not about him as a person, it's about the constant danger. You're not strong like him. You don't have speed, psychic powers, or any training. You're just a regular mobian trying to survive, and being with him feels like painting a target on your back.

Silver's lip trembles as he tries to process your words. "But... I can protect you. I'd never let anything happen to you, I swear!" His desperation is just saddening. He doesn’t understand why you'd reject him when he's offering to keep you safe.

As the days go on, Silver becomes increasingly obsessive. He can't stop thinking about you, about how wrong it is for you to push him away. He convinces himself that you're just scared and that he needs to prove he can give you the peaceful life you want.

Silver starts "fixing" your life in ways that quickly spiral out of control. He uses his powers to move you away from anything he perceives as a threat. If someone looks at you the wrong way, they trip and fall. If a place feels "unsafe," he blocks your access to it entirely.

When he confronts you again, his tone is a mix of desperation and determination. "I've done everything I can to make things better for you! Don't you see? We can be together. You just have to trust me!"

If you still resist, Silver becomes more unhinged. He's not naturally violent, but his obsession with keeping you safe drives him to extremes. He starts to believe that the only way to protect you is to keep you with him, always.

"I know you're scared" he whispers, holding you close despite your protests. "But I’ll make everything okay. You'll see. You don't have to worry about anything anymore... because I’m here."

[itsnesss]

Hi how are you!!! Could you do a Jun-Ho fluff where he proposes please and thank you🥺🥺 I’ve been loving him lately!

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | the request. junho proposes to you in a super romantic way and your have a moment of intimacy

warnings | fluff, romance, smut, explicit content, p in v, unprotected sex

word count | 2.7 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The soft light of the restaurant illuminates your face, and you can't help but notice how special this place feels. The gentle hum of background conversations mixes with relaxing music, creating an almost magical atmosphere. But what truly makes everything shine is him, sitting across from you, with his typical calm smile, yet full of tenderness.

You can't stop thinking about everything you've been through together. Every moment, every conversation, every smile. Though the circumstances under which you met weren't the most common, you and he had created something unique. Something that was more than special. And today, here, in this elegant restaurant, you realize how deep his presence has become in your life.

Dinner unfolds naturally. The food is exquisite, but your eyes are fixed on Junho. Every gesture he makes, every word he says, makes you fall more in love. He, for his part, seems calm, but you can see in his eyes that something is occupying him, as if he's weighing something important.

“There's something I want to ask you...” he says, his voice soft, but his tone carries a contained emotion.

Your heart skips a beat when you hear those words. You know something important is about to happen, and while you try to remain calm, the nervousness starts tickling your stomach. You have the sense that this moment will change everything between you.

“Of course... what's going on?” you ask, trying to disguise the tremor in your voice. The smile on your lips doesn't fade, but there's a spark of uncertainty in your eyes.

Junho looks at you intently, his eyes searching for something in you, as if he's looking for the exact words. His expression is a mix of seriousness and tenderness, but also of palpable nervousness. Like he's about to take a leap into the unknown.

“I don’t know how to put it into words... but I've thought about it a lot...” he says, finally, letting his words fall slowly, as if he's afraid something might shatter the magic of this moment.

You feel even more anxious, but you manage to maintain composure. Everything seems to stop for a second. The sounds of the restaurant fade, the air thickens, and the only thing you can feel is the rapid beat of your own heart. You're waiting, with all your being, for Junho to finish speaking, although you somehow already know what's about to happen.

Suddenly, his hand moves towards his pocket and, with a gesture that seems so calculated, so full of determination, he pulls out a small black velvet box. The world seems to freeze for a second. Everything inside you ignites, and despite the serenity of his face, you know that this is the moment you've been waiting for, even though you didn't know it until now.

He opens the box carefully, revealing a simple yet beautiful ring. The diamond at the center seems to shine with its own light, as if reflecting all the emotions flowing between you in that instant. His eyes meet yours, and it feels like the whole universe is summed up in that gaze.

“I love you with everything I am...” he says, his voice full of emotion. His hands tremble slightly, but there is an unshakable certainty in his words. “And I can’t imagine my life without you. I’ve found everything I want in you, and I feel incredibly lucky to have you in my life. So... will you marry me?”

The words linger in the air, and for a moment, it feels like the world around you doesn't exist anymore. The silence stretches between you, but it’s not an uncomfortable silence; it’s one filled with love, hope, unspoken promises. You look at the ring, then his eyes, and you know this is the moment your own dreams come true.

A flood of emotions fills your chest. You can't believe what's happening. Everything inside you collapses, and tears well up in your eyes. You know there are no doubts, that this is the path you've been looking for, but still, the disbelief overwhelms you.

Finally, your voice comes out, soft as a whisper, but filled with certainty.

“Yes... of course I will,” you reply, your words full of love. “Yes, I’ll marry you!”

Junho smiles as if all the weight he carried on his shoulders has melted away. The smile that lights up his face is so pure, so sincere, that you feel like the world is right. He takes your hand, kisses your fingers gently, as if he wants to savor that moment, to make sure it stays etched in his memory forever.

“I promise I’ll make you the happiest person in the world,” he whispers with a tenderness that melts you.

It’s as if time has stopped, and only the two of you exist, surrounded by the calm of the night. Without saying another word, you stand up from your seat and throw yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly, as if you can't bear to be separated from him. Tears begin to fall, but they’re not tears of sadness, they’re tears of happiness. You feel like everything you ever imagined is now right in front of you, as real as the air you breathe.

When you pull back a little, he takes your hand gently, as if afraid it might slip away. He places it over his chest, right where his heart beats.

“I love you,” he murmurs, his voice trembling just slightly, as if the weight of his love is too much to contain.

The rest of the dinner passes in the blink of an eye. Everything else disappears, and only this moment remains, one that will change the course of your lives forever.

When you get home, the excitement still runs through your body. You both enter, and although the night is still young, you feel there’s no place in the world you'd rather be than here, with him.

He closes the door with a soft click, but his eyes never leave yours. You feel a little tremor in your chest when he takes a step toward you, and your legs weaken slightly. Nervousness and desire mix in a way that’s almost intoxicating.

Junho stops in front of you, his eyes fixed on yours, and you can see in them the promise of something more. Something more than a commitment, something deeper, something that only the two of you understand.

His hands move to your face, touching you with the softness that has always characterized him. The delicacy with which he caresses you, the way he seems to know every corner of your being, makes your whole body shudder.

“Do you know what this means?” he asks in a whisper, his voice filled with the certainty that only true love can bring.

You look at him, your eyes reflecting all the emotions you feel in this moment. You know what it means, you’ve known since the very first day, but you can’t help but let the desire, that need to be closer, to feel him more, take over you.

“I know,” you reply, your voice barely audible.

In an instant, his lips meet yours, soft at first, but quickly growing in intensity. The kiss turns into something deeper, more urgent, as if neither of you can wait another second. His hands explore your body, as if he wants to imprint every curve, every corner into his memory.

Clothes slowly fall to the floor, and the desire between you ignites like a fire that can’t be contained. Every touch of his fingers, every kiss, is a reminder of how close you are, of what you share. Everything feels perfect, natural, as if it was meant to happen at the exact moment.

"I want to feel you," Junho whispers, his voice breathless. His fingers glide over your back, over your curves, as if he had been searching for a path that leads to heaven.

"I want that too," you reply in a gasp. Each word is like a fire in your throat, as if you wanted to shout your love to the world.

"Do you want this?" he asks, his voice ragged with need. His fingers brush against your thighs, soft and calm, but with a strength that makes you realize how much he needs you.

"I want this," you reply, your eyes fixed on him. The need in your voice mingles with desire, and you can feel his entire body tense, as if they had reached a limit they could no longer surpass.

In a single movement, he positions himself between your legs. You feel the pressure in your abdomen, the need that surrounds it, the promise that soon you will be closer than ever before. His breath is ragged, and his eyes are glazed with desire.

"I adore you so much" he murmurs, his words a silent plea. "I adore you, I've always loved you".

And, as if their words were a key that opens all doors, their bodies move together, as if the rhythm that drives them were something natural, something that was always meant to be. You feel his breath in your ear, his warm breath, his hands holding you, caressing you, making you feel loved.

Everything is perfect. The tension builds up inside you, but Junho holds you firmly. His arms surround you, protect you, cradle you. Everything about him makes you feel safe, as if you know nothing can go wrong.

"You are my everything" he whispers in your ear. His words are like a massage on your insides, increasing your need. "You are my home"

Your breath quickens, and the tension builds until you can no longer bear it. A torrent of pleasure spreads through your body, and you can feel yourself floating in the air. Junho moans in your neck, his fingers grip your skin tightly, and you can feel the pressure on your thighs. His body moves a little faster, but there is nothing in it that isn't gentle and slow, as if every movement he makes is just for your pleasure.

"I'm yours" you whisper, your voice breathless and hoarse. The words slip out of your mouth without you being able to stop them, as if they were the only thing you could say at that moment. "I am yours, always".

Her breath catches for a second, her gaze locks onto you with a passion that makes you crave more. "And I will always be yours" he replies, his voice echoing your words.

In a couple of seconds, the tension between you grows once again. The desire explodes in you, in him, and you both scream at the exact moment. It's as if the connection between you is something more than physical, as if it were something that only exists between two people who were destined to be together.

Finally, when their breathing returns to normal, he collapses onto you, his head on your chest, his arms surrounding you. Calmness surrounds you again, but there is no space between you, as if you needed nothing else. The connection is so strong that you feel you could spend hours here without saying a word, simply embracing each other.

"This is just the beginning of everything I want to give you".

You snuggle closer to him, closing your eyes, feeling the outside world fade away. All that matters is him. You. Both of you.

"Me too" you say with a smile, as you sink into a dream full of promises of a future together. Always together.

[nihilisticnomad]

Forgot to do this before New Year, but since it's still January here it goes!

1) How many fics have you worked on since January?

I've published 37 stories this year!

2) What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

I tried my hand at various styles of smut. I was originally scared to try this style of writing, but I ended having fun!

3) What piece of media inspired you the most?

The Harry Potter movies and Lore once again, it seems I can't stay away from this universe.

4) How many fandoms did you write for this year?

6 fandoms in total: Harry Potter, One Piece, Maleficent, Biohazard Resident Evil, Ancient Greek Religion and Original Work.

5) What ships captured your heart?

Nico Robin/Roronoa Zoro from One Piece Bela Dimitrescu/Mother Miranda from Biohazard Resident Evil Fleur Delacour/Hermione Granger; Narcissa Malfoy/Hermione Granger; Luna Lovegood/Draco Malfoy; Narcissa Malfoy/Nagini from Harry Potter

6) What characters captured your heart?

A bit too many to list!

7) Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

Quite a bit yes, but I particularly enjoyed writing my first Narcissa Malfoy/Hermione Granger with "Darling, you say (And I keen under your touch)"

8) What fic meant the most to you to write?

"Mama, help (There's a monster in my head)" means a lot to me, because of the story's general theme. Writing helped alleviate a bit of the pressure in a way.

9) What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

I really enjoyed working on "And under the ancient trees (I danced with the Otherworld)". I felt carried away when writing it, which doesn't happen often!

10) What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

"Sshh, little one (There's a sleeping crow nearby)" felt so goof to finish because it was taking dust in my drafts for years now!

11) What fic was the most difficult to write?

I'll have to say "At the tip of my fingers (Your Starry Night)", because I usually don't write M/M, and even less in that borderline-manipulative tone.

12) What fic was the easiest to write?

"Oh pixies, sing (The song of my mischief)" was by far the easiest to write.

13) What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

Longest story is "Sshh, little one (There's a sleeping crow nearby)" at 1.3K words; and shortest fics are drabbles of 100 words.

14) What were your go-to writing songs?

Just putting one of my playlists on shuffle, and waiting for inspiration to appear.

15) What was the hardest fic to title?

I had the ingenious idea to commit to two-part titles, so it’s always a bit of a hassle. Tho the hardest might have been "O river mine (Take me whole)"

16) What's your favorite title of the year?

Probably "Whenever night falls (Listen for my call)". Not really sure why but I like it.

17) Share your favorite opening line

“Do you feel lonely?” asks Helen, her voice a mere murmur as she gently runs a hand through hissing hair. The snakes playfully nip at her fingers as she grazes their cold scales, their tiny forked tongues curiously exploring the palm of her hand before retreating shyly into the darkness of her lover’s hair. From the story "In the garden of solitude (Lies an Immortal's heart)"

18) Share your favorite ending line

She turns her head toward Hermione. “It’s raw freedom.” she adds, golden flecks swimming in her blue eyes as she smiles wistfully. From the story "What do you dream about? (Freedom, mon amour)"

19) Share your favorite piece of dialogue

« It’s peaceful. » she’d said at Hermione’s questioning gaze. « To roam above the world with such freedom. » She’d laughed a strange hollow sound, « It’s reassuring too, to know that even something as powerful as a star will one day collapse and disappear. » From the story "To hook a star (Is to find your freedom)"

20) Share your funniest line

I don't write many light-hearted dialogue this year, so I think this one: Hermione steps closer, “Fleur?” “Your cat!” suddenly blurts out Fleur. Hermione blinks dumbly at her wife and the blonde groans, hiding her face behind her hands as she adds, “Your stupid cat jumped on me and scared me!” From the story "Feline fiasco (And feathery mishap)"

21) What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

"There's a whisper in the dark of my mind (It yells for the truths I buried)" was originally meant to be a light-hearted story about a silly promise... I'm not really sure what happened but let's just say the story did a complete 180°...

22) What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

As always, I kept true to Google Docs! I did try a few others but I can't seem to get the hang of it.

23) If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

I'll have to say writing "And under the ancient trees (I danced with the Otherworld)". The overwhelming feeling of pride and happiness I got from writing this drabble took me by surprise, but it's one I'll cherish!

24) Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

Sigh deeply and stare into the wall as I say goodbye to my WIP, and pray that someone will enjoy reading it. Each and every time, it’s the same ritual, ever since I posted my first story. Also did a little happy dance for a few stories, of course.

25) How did you recharge between fics?

The end of the year was a bit lacking in inspiration, so I simply focused on taking care of myself, whether it was with cuddling my cat, going horse-riding or seeing my family.

26) Did you create fanworks other than fic?

Nothing for that!

27) How many events did you take part in?

I participated in 13 events this year!

28) If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

As always, my grandmother, may she rest in peace. She was always been my biggest supporter when it came to my passion for writing, even though she didn't understand English. She'd always let me talk her ears off about my wips and ideas, celebrated my small victories with me and was patient with me as I tried to tell her my stories in French.

29) What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

Write a multichapter story! It's been my goal since 2022, but the task seems a bit too daunting still...

30) What would you like to write in 2025?

A multichapter story! Damnit.

A slightly revised version of last year's questions! Two ways to play: Reblog and have your followers send you numbers, or answer the whole list!

How many fics have you worked on since January?

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

How many fandoms did you write for this year?

What ships captured your heart?

What characters captured your heart?

Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

What fic meant the most to you to write?

What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

What fic was the most difficult to write?

What fic was the easiest to write?

What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

What were your go-to writing songs?

What was the hardest fic to title?

What's your favorite title of the year?

Share your favorite opening line

Share your favorite ending line

Share your favorite piece of dialogue

Share your funniest line

What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

How did you recharge between fics?

Did you create fanworks other than fic?

How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

What would you like to write next year?

[astermagnolia]

DP x DC x Spiderman

THIS CAME TO ME IN A VISION WHILE I WAS MINDLESSLY WORKING AT MY JOB

Ok, recently I've been into the "Spiderman gets transported into Gotham" fics and suddenly I thought "Danny and Peter stuck in the same body while trying to survive Gotham"

(if you want to write this go ahead)

OK STICK WITH ME

Peter gets transported to Gotham after Dr. Strange does his spell but it (the spell not strange) takes things further and transports him to a new dimension with no Peter Parker. He ends up climbing out of a Lazarus pit, his body in absolute pain.

At the same time, Danny is fleeing his home dimension because *whatever you decide* and ends up flying into a portal and overshadowing a person that's, for some reason, in the portal (Lazarus pits are portals to the infinite realms). Because of the weird fuckery that is ectoplasm, Dannys ghost status, and the Lazarus pits, Danny and Peter end up sharing a body but neither realize it yet.

Peter passed out instantly while Danny is kinda out of it (and driving the body he thinks is his) and ends up wandering Gotham, finds some clothes, and finds an abandoned building to sleep in.

Peter wakes up thinking he did all this while on adrenaline and just shrugs it off. He wanders Gotham and then goes back to the building he woke up in, that's when Danny wakes thinking he overshadowed someone and freaks Peter out as well.

Both pass out in shock.

Danny was the one to wake up the next time they woke up and tries to go ghost but can't (something changes though). He tries his other abilities and those work. He goes to find his reflection and his face is different but has his familiar black hair and blue eyes. Peter wakes up and speaks to Danny on his head and now both freaking out again. They calm down and talk about what happened.

Peter says that's his face and body but with black hair and blue eyes. They try to switch which causes dizziness but Peter is in control now with brown hair and hazel-green eyes.

Basically: when Peter is in control of the body he looks like himself. When Danny is in control, the body has black hair and blue eyes. When Danny 'goes ghost' while in control then he gets his white hair and green eyes, but the body doesn't change.

I'd like to think they have to learn each other's abilities now. danny has to learn how to not stick to things (plus he gets to try how gravity actually affects him now) and how to deal with the spider sense.

Peter has to learn basically pages worth of abilities😭. He has to learn not to go through things, turn invisible, start floating, etc. Peter can't go ghost and when Danny passes out when he is in ghost mode, it just turns off but maybe during extremely stressful situations or life and death moments, Peter can go ghost, it doesn't last very long though.

Time for some silly shenanigans:

Danny runs into Jason for whatever, maybe he was robbing him (even funnier answer, Danny was stealing Jason's bike wheels) and Jason gets him food. Next time, Peter runs into Jason and Dick while Peter was dumpster diving for, idk, tech parts. Dick and Peter are talking while Jason is staring at Peter. Internally, Peter is freaking while Danny isn't helping.

Then Jason asks if he has a twin.

Danny is losing it, just laughing as Peter has to deal with this. But Peter-blurt out the first thing in your mind-Parker says "yes, we got separated and I'm looking for him while I'm staying at my uncle's apartment".

So now Peter has to come with a whole backstory and reason why they're separated and why he won't go to the police. ("Acab bitch" Danny says and Peter repeats without question. Jason this time loses it while dick pouts and peter is horrified by what he said)

Peter and Danny making up fake identities, families, and backstory.

i think it would really be funny if Danny is the ghost prince (waiting to be crowned after his death) so the Infinite realms are up in arms about their beloved prince being missing and his last known signature/location is the dc universe. so now JLD is scrambling to find him and all the while he is just chilling in someone's head.

some fun/interesting arguments: the way they view death. peter is a very "do not kill" guy, basically his ideals align with batman (maybe. I'm not extremely knowledgeable in spiderman lore) and Danny-being a ghost/the ghost king-has different views. i think he's still a "try to save everyone" type of guy but has exceptions.

maybe they share dreams which leads to horrifying nightmares.

another fun thing: they're both inventors so they can look at a microwave and just break it apart to build something new.

another point: Danny's weirdness as a ghost

Peter: did you just stick something in our body??? i cant feel it??

Danny: oh yeah. i do that sometimes. im pretty sure i stuck our phone in out chest.

Peter: Get it out?!??

anyways, this is all i got. yall can take this and run with it. add onto it or remove something. this is brought to you by- peter gets flung into Gotham and that one fic where Danny and young Jason kind of merge so Jason is Danny's ghost half

[lyiswriting]

Plus size reader x stalker!OC

This is an original character! but I do get COD ghost and Ghostface vibes from him.

I finally caught him! The goddamn stalker that has been watching and freaking me out for months. I get that this might not have been my best idea but here we are! He's handcuffed to a chair and just looking at me. Watching my every move as I pace around the room indecisive if I should call the cops. Why do you do this? I ask sternly, I'm nervous but try not to show it but he knows better. Why not? Tilts his head, you're fucking gorgeous and entertaining. I scuffs that's not a good answer, there's a good answer to that?

Well...not exactly... I think you're precious, you hung the stars for me. Life has never been brighter, I love to watch your every move. How pretty you look asleep, cooking, reading, and writing. You fucking name it! His voice is rough and his eyes darken as he starts talking more. In the fucking shower he groans and throws his head back, even with his mask still on I can tell he's smirking. I look at him Your sick! Oh, but doll face you love every single second of it. I've read those books you fawn over, those are just fictional. He scuffs and shakes his head, maybe...but I laid in your bed, read your books when you didn't even know. I love your sheets and can't wait for when I get you in them.

You're a damn perv! As if that will ever fucking happen...I mumble as my hands shake trying to hold my phone steady. Once again, you love it. You love how I'm getting hard at just recalling all of this. That someone finally actually cares and loves you enough to lose his mind over you. To risk losing everything he has just because he can't stay away from you. Shifts in his seat look at how hard you have me, baby. I look at him shocked, how can he say that so casually. How can he be hard from all this!?

I don't get it, why go through all of this for me? I'm not special, not smart, not rich and totally not pretty according to society. Don't fucking say that! He suddenly barks making me jump. You are the epitome of gorgeous. He tilts his head as he starts to pant, I'm stupid for letting him keep talking. You think I would go through all of this for someone who isn't a diamond? For someone who looks like everyone else? He laughs and shakes his head no baby.

I'm being a nice guy to you and letting you fucking think you have the upper hand. So keep that little mouth of yours in check, he growls. I look at him and my body shaking in fear. Who the fuck do you think you are? I try to act tough, this is my house. You are the one that's handcuffed! I point at him as I walk closer I do have the upper hand! And what's wrong with me saying the truth? To the media I am not pretty,

I love your voice, he suddenly switched tones as he looks at me lovingly. I love the way you think, I love your body, no matter how big. I love every single mark and scar on it. You're my solstice. His soft tone suddenly goes rough again, but I won't let you talk about yourself in that way. I suddenly hear him grunt and something breaking. I back up as he stands the cuffs sitting on his wrists, broken.

[irrelevantlostie]

So glad to be team "I can't wait to see what direction they take the show in" rather than "this is the direction I want the show to go in and if it doesn't go in that direction I will be severely disappointed and Viv is a bad writer also"

Like it's not your show, it's her show, if you want a show that's different write it yourself then. Just because you expected the show to go in a certain direction doesn't mean the writers owe you that. And like,,, okay you're allowed to be disappointed for yourself but don't be all "the writing is [objectively] bad and the show is bad I thought this was gonna happen and it didn't waaah"

People will get mad when it comes off too fan service-y but also get mad when something happens that they don't like. Make it make sense.

[liketolaugh-writes]

It wasn't the first time Lois and Clark had done undercover work. Lois in particular was a widely-known reporter of corporate crimes and human rights violations, so the people who indulged in those sorts of activities often knew her name. Clark wasn't as well-known, but he wasn't unrecognizable either. They went to Elmerton as Lois Lane and Clark Kent, and headed for Amity Park as Lucy and Clark Taylor.

Their rented vehicle was stopped not far past the billboard that read 'Amity Park: A Nice Place To Live!'

"Names," barked the agent, a brown-haired man with sunglasses that hid many of his defining features.

These types didn't like people who knew their rights. It wouldn't be impossible to get into Amity Park without using a road, but the agents inside might keep records of who had been let in. "Clark and Lucy Taylor, sir. Have we done something wrong?"

"Not yet," the agent said darkly. He repeated their names over his comm unit, and waited for the voice on the other end to give him a tinny 'they're clean' before addressing them again. "Professions?"

"Between jobs right now," Clark said with a bashful smile. "A friend of mine told me that the high school here was looking for teachers? I teach social studies. I just wanted to have a look." It was a guess. A town blocked off by the government probably had trouble finding teachers.

The agent grumbled something indistinct. "And your wife?"

Clark smiled guilelessly. "She's my wife. What do you mean?" He could practically hear Lois rolling her eyes, but the agent bought it.

"Head on through," he grunted, waving them on. "You might change your mind about living here once you've seen it."

"Oh, it can't be that bad!" Clark chuckled, and raised the window to pull away before the agent could reply.

"Soft lockdown," Lois interpreted, frowning at the road. "They'll probably have us sign an NDA on the way out."

Clark nodded. Less red tape on the way in, less suspicion from casual visitors, less eyes on them. "Not if we don't leave that way." They wouldn't be able to take Danny out through the checkpoints anyway. It'd be best to fly out.

Once they were in, it was almost insultingly easy, considering all the trouble it had taken to get this far. He focused his hearing on Amity Park, but there didn't seem to be any fighting at the moment, so he and Lois headed to a diner for lunch and, more importantly, to chat with the waiter.

"You're from out of town, aren't you?" the waiter checked, catching both of them by surprise. He smiled sheepishly and shrugged at them. "I don't recognize you, and Amity Park is a pretty small town. What brings you here?"

"Well..." Clark dragged it out, scratching his neck in embarrassment. The kid caught on quickly and laughed out loud.

"You're here about the ghosts, aren't you?" Completely unconcerned, matter-of-fact. He hadn't been told to keep it a secret, Clark realized, which meant that the GIW probably didn't want the residents to realize how tightly locked down they were.

"Yes, we are," Lois confirmed, leaning over to catch the kid's eye. "What's your name? So I can write it down."

The kid lit up, which wasn't unusual. People loved to be in the paper. "Kwan Choi!" he chirped. "Are you a reporter?"

Still no concern. The GIW had never intended outside reporters to ever get this far, probably. People at nearby tables were starting to turn around, interested in the proceedings but not stepping forward yet.

"That's right," Lois confirmed, flipping her notebook open. "May I record this conversation?"

"Sure!"

Lois set her phone to record. "So, Mr. Choi, what can you tell me about the ghosts here?"

"They're pretty much everywhere!" Kwan told her, with obvious delight that became disconcerting as he went on. "There's attacks every day, you'll probably at least hear one if you're staying for a couple of days. Ghosts are pretty powerful too, so it's not like you'll miss it. Just follow the sound of smashing concrete. And yelling."

"You don't seem very worried," Lois pointed out mildly, exchanging a look with Clark. Danny had never really indicated how powerful he was, and had avoided mentioning most of his powers. If his rogues gallery was regularly breaking buildings...

"Of course not!" Kwan exclaimed, laughing at the thought. "Trust me, we don't have anything to worry about as long as Phantom's around." He almost vibrated with excitement, obviously waiting for them to take the bait.

Clark was happy to. This was what they'd come here for, after all. "Phantom? Is he a hero?"

"He's the best!" Kwan beamed. "He's a ghost too and he's super powerful! Don't listen to what any of the ghost hunters tell you. Phantom's casualty record is literally perfect and Dash says even Superman can't say that! Course, Amity Park is a lot smaller than Metropolis..." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly while Lois and Clark exchanged a look. "Phantom beats up all the ghosts, even the ones the ghost hunters can't touch, and he doesn't cause as much collateral as the Fentons say he does! They just blame him for all the damage from all the ghosts and that's bullshit."

"So he's controversial?" Clark prodded carefully. He was startled when Kwan actually scowled at him, dropping his bouncy demeanor for a moment.

"You can't do one of those scaremongering articles on him, okay?" the kid argued, looking defensive. "None of that 'he's a scary ghost' or 'is Phantom secretly behind all the ghost attacks' horseshit. He's a hero. We'd be completely screwed without him."

"We won't do that," Lois promised Kwan, earning a beam in return. "Is Phantom the only hero in Amity Park?"

Kwan actually looked thoughtful, and he wriggled his hand. "Depends on who you ask. The Red Huntress is pretty cool too, when she's by herself, but she attacks Phantom a lot, so a lot of people don't really like her. The Fentons and the GIW are both almost as dangerous as the ghosts though, and they're not nearly as good at fighting them."

"The GIW?" Clark asked, just to see how he reacted. He wasn't entirely surprised when Kwan flinched, glancing nervously at the door.

Kwan lowered his voice. "You should probably avoid those guys, all the government people in white suits. They're, uh, pretty liberal with those guns." His nervous expression said it all. Clark's hatred for the GIW grew.

"We'll be careful," Lois assured him. "What about the Fentons?"

Kwan made a face, but he did straighten up, his shoulders relaxing. "If you're reporting on the ghost attacks, you probably want to talk to the Fentons." Another grimace. "Well, want may not be the right word. They know a lot, but they're also wrong about a lot, and they're really anti-ghost. Maybe you can talk to their son Danny instead. Rumor has it that he's where Phantom gets all his Fenton tech."

Bingo. Clark wasn't expecting Danny to fall right into their laps, but this fit perfectly: the son of two ghost hunters, already suspected of having ties to the town's hero. "And where can we find Danny?"

"He lives with his parents," Kwan shrugged. "It's hard to find him anywhere else, unless you want to catch him at school or something." Of course; if there were multiple attacks a day, he probably poured a lot of time into his vigilantism. "I don't know their exact address, but you don't really need to. They have a giant UFO on top of their house, you can't miss it."

"They have a what?"

----

They did have a UFO on top of their house.

"Well," Lois said resignedly. "I think we found it." 'Fentonworks' blinked on the sign, pointing to the door. "Now let's find your adoptee."

"Who do you think I am, Bruce?" Clark asked indignantly.

Lois didn't dignify that with a response, instead making her way toward the door and pressing the doorbell. It rang, and almost immediately, there was a crash, a clatter, and a blast on the other side of the door. Someone yelped. Clark tensed, but a moment later, the door swung open, and a red-haired woman smiled at them, unaffected by the commotion.

"Hello, can I help you?" she asked, perfectly cheerful.

Lois and Clark exchanged a look, and then Lois focused on the woman. "Hello. My name is Lucy Taylor, call me Luce, and my husband Clark. Mrs. Fenton, right? I was told you were the people to talk to about ghosts." It was always best to get both perspectives of a story; even with something as one-sided as this, you had to understand what everyone was thinking.

It was also the easiest way to get in the door.

"Dr. Fenton, actually!" the woman said, with a smile that showed she wasn't offended. "Both me and my husband. Come in!"

She spun on her heel and went inside, and Lois and Clark followed. The commotion had evidently been someone dropping a large energy gun, which had then gone off and hit the ceiling; the scorch mark was still smoldering. The gun was on the floor. Clark glanced at it, and Maddie chuckled, picked it up, and put it on the table.

"Don't worry, it doesn't harm humans," she reassured them both, unconcerned. "I know it can seem a little extreme if you've never met a real ghost, but I assure you, those ectoplasmic abominations deserve no mercy."

The sudden vitriol was disconcerting with her cheerful, upbeat tone.

"Really?" Clark asked, unable to help himself. "From what I've heard so far, they sound pretty complex." Along with Kwan, who was happy to talk as long as his manager would let him, they'd heard stories from all the people at the tables around them. It wasn't just Danny; plenty of the ghosts had shown obvious signs of sapience, from dating problems to earnest chats about new music to a child ghost playing carefully with other kids, supervised by Phantom.

"Oh, this talk again," Maddie sighed, and sat down with a reassuring smile. To show she wasn't offended. She gestured for them to sit down. "Not at all. It's all in the science of it. Ghosts are very good at appearing complex; it's necessary for their manipulations. But all of the emotion and personality that they display is faked. It's an echo of who they were when they were alive. What's really happening is a mindless feeding instinct, since ghosts need human emotion to sustain themselves. The more emotion they can evoke, the more they can feed." Maddie smiled and shrugged, like 'it can't be helped.' "That's why the best thing to do is to put them out of everyone's misery. Someday, I hope, there won't be any ghosts to haunt us."

Clark couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this sick and angry. Maybe when Kon had explained exactly what had happened while he was still at CADMUS. He closed his hands gently, careful not to clench them, so as to not tip Maddie off too much.

Lois set a hand on his arm, understanding. "You want to wipe them out?"

Maddie blinked at them guilelessly. "Well, yes, of course. They're very dangerous, as anyone in this town knows. And as I explained, they're not sentient at all, so there's really no reason not to. It's like putting down rabid animals, really - after all, by rights, they should already be dead."

Clark wondered how often Danny heard his mother call him a rabid animal.

Lois squeezed his arm. "What do your children think of this?"

Maddie's smile thinned, showing that she was losing her patience. "Oh, they're quite pro-ghost, I'm afraid. Most of the children are. I try not to hold it against them; they're very vulnerable to the manipulations of Phantom in particular. It was clever of it to both take the form of an adolescent and wear something resembling a superhero costume. It even formed an emblem after a while."

"How can he be clever if he's not even sentient, ma'am?" Clark asked, quiet and even. Maddie's smile disappeared altogether.

"I see you formed an opinion before talking to an expert," she observed coolly. "One of the children, I'm guessing?"

Before the situation could escalate, the front door opened, and another energy beam fired. Clark shot to his feet, but was too late to react, caught in his secret identity; the beam hit, and the person at the door yelped in pain and reeled back.

"Mom!" they yelled after a moment, more frustrated than hurt. "You're supposed to tell me when you turn on the security system!"

With a sinking feeling, Clark guessed that that was Danny. He glanced up at the ceiling above the door. A smoking gun was pointed at the door.

"I'm sorry, dear!" Immediately forgetting them, Maddie bustled to her feet and across the room, opening a panel in the wall to input a code. The gun withdrew into the ceiling. "I really thought I got it this time, I don't understand why this keeps happening."

"Mom." Danny appeared in the doorway, giving the ceiling a wary glance before continuing inside. He hadn't noticed them yet, focused on his mother as he pleaded with her. "I'm not even asking you to stop testing it, just tell me when you turn it on, please?"

That was a pretty big concession, considering that Clark suspected it was doing exactly what it was supposed to do, and shooting a ghost that tried to come inside. Into his house, where he lived, with his parents that were supposed to be protecting him. Clark clenched and unclenched his fists, not sitting down yet.

Maddie sighed. "You're right, I'm sorry. Every time I think I've figured out why our trackers lock onto you..." She trailed off with a shake of her head, and gestured for Danny to come closer. "Here, let me fix that up for you. And be polite, we have guests."

Despite her willingness to program the house to shoot him, apparently at random, Danny approached his mom without hesitation and held up his burnt arm for her inspection. A large pink splotch was on his forearm, where he must have blocked the beam, maybe protecting his head or chest. Most tellingly of all, his heart beat slowly, at half the rate Clark was used to hearing.

Maddie winced. "Oh, that's going to blister," she murmured.

"Mom!" Danny whined, glancing down. "Did you turn up the power too? Seriously?"

"I really thought I had it this time," Maddie repeated, contrition tightening her voice. It meant nothing, Clark thought darkly. She grabbed a first aid kit from under the sink and spread burn cream over the injury, then started to wrap it up. To Lois and Clark, she added, "I'm sorry you had to see this. If you could keep it private, I would... appreciate it. I'd rather it not get around exactly how ectocontaminated Danny is."

A hint of apprehension crept into her voice. It was telling. Even the Fentons feared the Ghost Investigation Ward.

"We understand," Lois said smoothly, pointedly not promising to keep it quiet.

For the first time, Danny glanced over at them, and confusion entered his eyes. Then they widened slightly. If anyone was going to see through Clark's thin disguise in less than a second, it would be another vigilante.

Clark wasn't surprised that Danny's only response was to tense nervously and look away again, shoulders rising. He'd gone to lengths to hide his identity and location from Superman, after all.

"Who are they?" Danny asked his mother.

"They're journalists!" Maddie said, bright and cheerful again. She finished wrapping Danny's injury, that she gave him, and took his shoulder to steer him toward the living room. "Luce and Clark. They're doing a story about Amity Park, so we're talking about ghosts."

"Great." Danny looked unenthusiastic. "Can I go upstairs, to do my homework, and like, not be here for this conversation?"

Maddie paused, studying him for a moment, and then tugged him gently toward the living room. (Truly gentle - Clark had seen people yank others and disguise it as a gentle motion before, and this wasn't that.) "No, I think you could benefit from this conversation too."

"Great." Danny looked defeated, and didn't protest further as he was pushed onto the other couch. He glanced at the gun on the table. "That's a new one. What does it do?"

Maddie beamed. Clark hated everything about this.

"It's the Fenton Ecto-Incinerator! It should cause any ghost's ectoplasm to react violently with itself and boil them from the inside out!"

The look of defeat magnified into a recognizable 'I wish I had never been born' expression, with dull, lifeless eyes and slumped shoulders. Maddie didn't seem to notice. "Fantastic." He scuffed his shoes on the floor and stared at his knees. Clark tried to figure out if there was a diplomatic way to ask 'have you noticed that your son obviously needs serious mental health treatment or are you ignoring it on purpose?'

It occurred to Clark that if Danny was a ghost, and his parents didn't know, that implied that he'd died and they hadn't noticed.

Lois, as always, rallied first. "Is that an... efficient way to get rid of a ghost?"

Danny sighed softly. With a wince, Clark realized that he'd missed the part of the conversation that indicated they were against this.

Maddie sighed too, but for a different reason, and she gave them a rueful smile. "No, not particularly. We're still trying to figure out how exactly to destroy ghosts permanently. We'd need to experiment with an intact specimen to manage it, but they keep... escaping." She glanced at Danny, indicating she had a suspicion as to how, but he didn't seem to notice. "Until then, we're trying to use pain as a deterrent."

"I thought they weren't sentient," Clark said, meeting Maddie's eyes. She pressed her lips together before responding.

"Everything dislikes pain, Mr. Taylor."

Clark had to work to retain his patience. "Do you know the difference between sentience and sapience, ma'am?"

Maddie's brow furrowed. "I... didn't believe there was one?"

"Sentient beings are capable of sensing and reacting to stimuli," Clark told her, because everyone needed to understand this, even - perhaps especially - the most horrible of people. "Sapient beings possess human intelligence."

Maddie looked thoughtful. "Hm... perhaps we should amend some of our professional work. That's quite a mistake." She shrugged it off. "But the principle remains the same. They can't stay here, and the pain is a deterrent."

Danny didn't look comforted by the concession. It was possible he wasn't even listening, and Clark couldn't blame him.

"Dr. Fenton, do you realize that that mistake enabled the government to give ghosts fewer rights than are given to lab rats?" Lois asked, barely maintaining a veneer of politeness.

Maddie's voice chilled again. "Ghosts don't need rights, Mrs. Taylor. As I explained, they are evil, selfish creatures, manipulating humans and feeding on the resulting emotion. I assure you, I've read the entirety of the Anti-Ecto Act, and I have no problem with any of it."

Danny stared at his knees and picked absently at a hole in his jeans.

"There's a reason that animal cruelty is illegal, Dr. Fenton. No feeling creature deserves that, whether you believe in their sapience or not."

"Rabid animals are put down as a matter of course. Why should ghosts be any different? Of the two, ghosts are far more dangerous."

Danny poked his finger into the hole.

"They're not sick, they're not dying. Rabid animals are put out of their misery. What is the point of torturing a ghost?"

"By all rights, they should already be dead. It's frankly an abomination that they didn't stay that way. Whatever measure is required to make that happen, I will do it myself - for the safety of our town and my children."

Actually, Clark was starting to get... extremely concerned about Danny's lack of responsiveness.

"Danny," he said, interrupting the intensifying argument. "Can you hear me?"

"What?" Maddie asked, baffled. Lois, however, caught on quickly, her back straightening with alarm. She held up a hand, indicating for Maddie to wait, and watched Clark scoot closer to Danny.

"Danny," he repeated, slightly louder and firmer. He reached out to touch Danny's hand, and Danny blinked, lifted his head, and met Clark's eyes, tilting his head in silent question. Clark repeated, "Can you hear me?"

There was a pause. Danny hummed noncommittally.

"What is-" Maddie started. Lois shook her head sharply, and Maddie fell silent.

"Danny, do you know where you are?" Clark asked, keeping his voice calm and even while his anger with Maddie and the absent Jack Fenton rose substantially. He doubted this was the first time this had happened.

Danny stared at him blankly. It was apparent that he either didn't understand the question or he didn't know where he was.

"Danny?" Fear entered Maddie's voice, and that was all that kept Clark from snapping at her.

"He's dissociating," Lois explained, terse but more patient than Clark at the moment. "It's a symptom of trauma and a sign of extreme stress. Clark's trying to snap him out of it."

"What?" Maddie repeated, horrified, and this time was ignored.

"You're at home, in your living room," Clark told Danny, maintaining eye contact. "Can you see that you're in your living room? Two couches, a coffee table, a television, and a ceiling fan?" Danny glanced around, checking for those things. Couches, coffee table, television, ceiling fan. Danny nodded. "Can you tell me what else is here?"

Danny glanced down at the coffee table, and his eyes landed on the gun. He clammed up again, eyes losing what little life they'd gained and shoulders going limp. Clark suppressed a curse, and glanced at Lois, then at the kitchen. Bless her, she understood, and got up to look for the freezer. Surprisingly, Maddie also responded, and picked up the gun, disappearing into a door to the basement. She returned empty-handed, giving Danny a worried look.

Lois returned from the kitchen with a bag of frozen vegetables, which she dumped into Danny's hands without ceremony. Danny started, blinking down at the bag, then up at Lois in question. She gave him a tense smile and sat down.

"Danny, can you tell me what you have in your hands?" Clark asked.

"...bag of frozen peas?" Danny stared down at them again, then up at Clark, meeting his eyes on his own with visible confusion. "Why?"

Clark gave him a small, relieved smile. "It got your attention, didn't it? You were dissociating. Do you know what that is?"

Danny wrinkled his nose, handling the bag of peas absently as he tried to retrace his mental steps. "I... felt kind of floaty, I guess. Like in a bad dream. I dunno. I wasn't really paying attention." Something about his tone indicated that while he was responsive now, he was still trying, on some level, to 'not really pay attention.' "What's wrong? Can I go now?"

He stopped fidgeting with the frozen peas and left them in his hands, limp and forgotten. Definitely still out of it, Clark decided.

"What's wrong with Danny?" Maddie repeated forcefully, fear in her voice and clearly done with being ignored. As if she had a right, as if she hadn't just bandaged a burn on his arm that she'd put there with carelessness bordering on malice.

"Some people detach from their surroundings as a coping mechanism," Lois explained, clipped but calm. Danny blinked down at the bag of peas in a slightly more ominous kind of confusion, and Clark put a hand on his arm again. Danny jumped, looking up at him in question, and Clark gave him a small, comforting smile, trying to make him feel at ease. "They'll feel like they're just having a dream, or watching something happen to someone else. It's a way of dealing with stress or trauma."

Maddie blinked at her in infuriating confusion. "But... he's just at home. Did something happen while he was at school, or on his way home?"

"I imagine," Clark said calmly, "it's because he was attacked at the door, and then forced to sit and listen while you discussed beings, that at the very least he thinks of as sapient, and justified your desire to torture them to death."

"But-" Maddie cut herself off this time, giving Danny a worried look. "But that's just-" She faltered again, and it was obvious that she didn't know how to deal with the conflict of what was, to her, undeniable scientific truth, and the equally undeniable harm it was causing Danny. "Are you sure?"

"If it was something outside, he would have been unresponsive when he came in," Clark informed her.

Maddie shrank, and Danny looked at her with matching worry.

"It's okay!" he said hastily, trying to shake off Clark's hand. Clark kept it there, and Danny didn't try very hard. "I can deal, I just- today was a bad day is all, I'm just..." He trailed off, lost as to how to play this down.

They stared at each other.

"...I'm sorry, can you leave?" Maddie asked softly. "I think Danny and I need to talk."

Danny Fenton sends Superman a fan email in which he asks for advice. In it he says he is also a non-human hero (he is vague because being a ghost is illegal) Danny mentions that he is being raised by humans. His parents don't know about his activities or species and hate his kind.

Danny was mostly looking for advice on how to make people stop being scared of his non-human characteristics. But Clark really sees himself in this teenager's email. He knows he was lucky to get parents who loved him even as an alien, but he also recalls being young and scared that would change.

So they start regularly exchanging emails, and Superman becomes a kind of mentor even if Danny refuses to tell him anything about his identity.

[mingi-s-dimples]

Dear Diary... - San

~"Hi love hope you’re doing well✨ Ive read your San kitten fic and I enjoyed it 😀tremendously 🔥. Now If it’s ok with you (I couldn’t find it in your blog that if you’re ok with this kink or nah) to write [cnc+ dirty talk and corruption kink]with San?? And if not cnc anything that comes from authority figures of him. Pls plssss ignore this if it’s makes you uncomfortable ❤️🍓" ~ queen I haven't written cnc corruption kink in my life. I hope I got the idea, even the slightest 😞.

pairing: san x fem!reader

genre: 18+

summary: san read your little journal.. and that ends with you screaming his name.

wc: 5.6k

warnings: dom!san, big dick!san, he eats her out, dirty talk, some cnc + corruption kink (he kinda softly makes her submit to it when he reads her diary + he doesn't care that she's a virgin and he actually encourages it even more so i guess it works? i'm so sorry i never wrote corruption kink before i promise i'll do better 😞💖), she's a virgin, neck holding and softly choking, marking all over, mamhandling, vaginal sex, he doesn't fuck he pounds, multiple orgasms, she screams out his name duh, some crumb of aftercare, cockwarming, unprotected (she's supposedly on bc but booo use protection!), unedited might edit later, for sure forgot something, completely consensual (after he makes her submit to him!)

Author's Note: woahhhh I haven't wrote in a while ngl. Felt good to be back.. sorry for not posting 😞. Life updates: Had 3 exams and I almost failed one but upsies it's maths 💀, had a bf for 3 days cause he acted weird and he said I'm his everything and that he loves me and that he can't be without me and I was like brotha ew we've been tgt for 3 days... and he got offended and unfollowed me everywhere 💀 boys these days... (i sound like a 70yo granma). Anyways I hope I'll post way more these days! There are only two exams to go, one this Friday and one this Saturday (for tutoring!) so I'll disappear again until Saturday night 🧍‍♀️ but I'll post on Sunday ! everyone cheer pls. Love youuuuuu allll

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

The rich scent of steak still lingered in the air, mingling with the faint remnants of laughter and conversation from earlier in the evening. Your small apartment felt quieter now, with only the faint hum of the fridge and the occasional clink of San’s beer bottle against the counter breaking the silence.

The others had left hours ago, leaving just you and him—like it so often did. You couldn’t even remember how it had started, the unspoken rule that San always stuck around longer than anyone else, as if this place belonged to him as much as it did to you.

“You’re really not going to let those dishes wait until tomorrow, are you?” he asked, leaning against the kitchen counter with a smirk. The casual authority in his tone was infuriatingly familiar, yet somehow impossible to ignore.

You glanced at him over your shoulder, rolling your eyes as you stacked the last plate. “And let me guess—you’re going to stand there, drinking your beer, and not help.”

“Exactly.” His grin widened, infuriating and so utterly *him.* “I’ve got my role down. Yours is to overachieve and keep pretending you don’t have OCD about cleaning up after people.”

“I do not—” you started, only to cut yourself off with a sigh. There was no winning with San.

Instead, you gave him a look, grabbed the last of the plates, and disappeared down the hall toward the bathroom. “Try not to break anything while I’m gone,” you called back over your shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” he drawled. “I’ll keep myself entertained.”

San watched you go, waiting until the sound of the bathroom door clicking shut echoed faintly down the hallway. Then his attention drifted lazily around the room.

Your apartment was familiar in a way that made it feel like a second home—organized chaos, with books, mismatched blankets, and stray notebooks scattered across every available surface. It was the kind of place that felt lived-in, every corner a reflection of your mind: half-stressed, half-dreaming.

It was a notebook on the coffee table that caught his eye.

It wasn’t hidden, exactly. Half-tucked under a glossy magazine, its leather cover gleamed faintly in the low light. The word *Private* was written neatly across the front in a handwriting he’d recognize anywhere—yours.

A slow grin spread across his face. “Private, huh?” he murmured, setting his beer down and reaching for the notebook.

He flipped it open, expecting to find the usual: to-do lists, random doodles, or the same kind of perfectly planned schedules you’d been making since grade school. But instead, his eyes landed on something else.

*Sometimes I wonder what it would feel like to lose control completely. To have someone take charge and make me do things I’d never admit I want. Things I’d never say out loud...*

San froze, his grin fading as his eyes skimmed over the words. The meaning hit him slowly, like a low-burning flame that spread heat through his chest and settled somewhere.. lower.

*...to be pinned down, held in place, unable to fight back but not really wanting to. To have someone whisper filthy things in my ear and tell me how much they love seeing me fall apart under their control...*

He swallowed hard, his grip on the notebook tightening as he kept reading. The words painted vivid pictures in his mind—images he’d never dared associate with you before, no matter how many times his teasing had drifted close to the edge.

But this was different. This wasn’t teasing. This was your handwriting, your fantasies laid bare on the pages in front of him.

And the worst—or maybe the best—part? He couldn’t stop reading.

The sound of the bathroom door opening snapped him out of it. He quickly snapped the notebook shut, placing it back on the coffee table just as you stepped into the room.

When your eyes landed on him, standing far too close to the coffee table, your expression immediately shifted. Suspicion flickered across your face, followed by alarm as you spotted the notebook.

“No,” you breathed, your voice almost a whisper. “San... Tell me you didn’t.”

He arched a brow, leaning casually against the arm of the couch as if nothing had happened. “Didn’t what?”

Your stomach twisted. “You didn’t read that, did you?”

He shrugged, the corner of his mouth curving into a smirk. “You left it out in plain sight, sweetheart. Hard not to be curious.”

“San!” Your voice rose in a mix of panic and mortification as you rushed over, snatching the notebook off the table. You clutched it to your chest, your cheeks burning so hot you could feel the heat spreading to your neck.

He watched you with infuriating calm, his dark eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite name. “Relax,” he said, his tone deceptively soothing. “It’s not like I read the whole thing.”

Your heart sank. “What... what did you read?”

San pushed off the couch and stepped closer, closing the space between you with deliberate ease. He stopped just inches away, towering over you in that way that always made you feel small—and not entirely in a bad way.

“Enough to know you’ve got some... interesting thoughts rattling around in that head of yours,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Care to explain?”

You shook your head, mortified. “No. Absolutely not. You shouldn’t have—”

“Shouldn’t have what?” he interrupted, his tone sharpening just slightly. “Picked it up? Read it? Or are you just embarrassed that I know now?”

You glared at him, though your resolve was already wavering. “This isn’t funny, San.”

His smirk faded, replaced by something darker, more serious. “Who said I’m joking?”

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Maybe it’s time someone gave you what you’ve been asking for.”

The room felt too small, the air too thick. Your lips parted, but no sound came out. You couldn’t bring yourself to say the word, even though you knew you should.

San’s smirk returned, slow and deliberate.

“Mhm-” he murmured, his voice heavy with unspoken intent.

His gaze lingered on you, sharp and assessing, as if he could see through every feeble defense you were trying to put up. The notebook still clutched against your chest felt like a useless shield, doing nothing to block the heat of his presence or the weight of his words.

“Not going to tell me to stop?” he asked, the challenge clear in his tone. “Guess that means you don’t want me to.”

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest. “This is not funny, San,” you whispered, though even you could hear the lack of conviction in your voice.

“Funny? Not even a little.” He stepped closer, his eyes glinting with something darker. “But it is fascinating. You, scribbling all those dirty thoughts down like a good little secret-keeper, acting all innocent around me—who would’ve guessed?”

“Stop,” you said, the word trembling as it left your lips.

“Why?” His brow arched in amusement, though his voice remained low and intent. “Does it make you uncomfortable? Or is it hitting a little too close to home?”

Before you could answer—or even think of a response—he reached out, plucking the notebook from your hands with maddening ease.

“San!” you exclaimed, reaching for it, but he held it out of reach, his grin never faltering.

“Let’s see,” he said, flipping it open again as your heart dropped into your stomach. “Ah, here it is... *I want to be taken—rough, merciless, made to feel like I can’t get enough.*” He glanced at you, his smirk widening at the audible hitch in your breath. “Quite the vivid imagination you’ve got there, sweetheart.”

“Give it back!” you said, your voice cracking.

“Why?” He shifted the notebook to his other hand, holding it out of reach. “Are you scared because I know how badly you want this?”

Your knees felt weak as he stepped closer, invading your space with the kind of confidence that left you feeling unmoored.

“You’re such an ass,” you muttered, trying and failing to glare at him.

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug, his grin sharpening. “But at least I’m honest. You? Not so much.”

San’s free hand brushed against your jaw, his touch light but firm, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You’re blushing,” he observed, his voice teasing but softer. “Is it embarrassment? Ouu, is it.. something else?”

“San,” you said, his name coming out more like a plea than a protest.

“What?” he asked, tilting his head as his thumb traced along your jawline. “Can’t take the heat?”

You shook your head, but you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t.

He chuckled, low and satisfied. “Thought so.”

Without warning, his hand slid to the back of your neck, his grip firm as he pulled you closer. His other hand dropped the notebook onto the couch, freeing him to let his fingers trail down your arm, light enough to make you shiver.

“You know what I think?” he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky murmur.

You shook your head, your breath uneven.

“I think you’ve been waiting for someone to see past all that sweet, good-girl bullshit,” he continued, his thumb brushing along the line of your jaw, “and call you what you really are.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs, the words lodging in your throat. “San...”

His grip on your neck tightened slightly, enough to make you gasp. “What’s wrong? Don’t like hearing it? Or do you like it too much?”

The way your thighs pressed together didn’t escape his notice, and his grin sharpened.

“You’re easy to read,” he said softly, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You’ve been wanting this for a while, haven’t you?”

Your lips parted, a faint whimper escaping before you could stop it.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his fingers slipping lower to trace the curve of your waist. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Your breath hitched as his lips hovered near yours, the air between you crackling with tension. He didn’t kiss you, but the sheer proximity left you trembling.

“You can tell me to stop,” he said again, his voice rough but steady. “One word, sweetheart, and I’ll walk away.”

You opened your mouth, but the words wouldn’t come.

San’s grin returned, slower and more deliberate. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

His free hand skimmed the bare skin above your waistband, teasing and slow, and you felt your knees buckle slightly.

“You’ve been waiting for someone to push you,” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “to see how far you’ll let them go. Haven’t you?”

You couldn’t answer, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

San leaned back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes searching yours. “Say the word,” he said quietly. “And I’ll stop.”

Your silence said everything, and his lips curved into a smirk.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, his voice low and full of promise.

His free hand skimmed the bare skin above your waistband, teasing and slow, and you felt your knees buckle slightly.

Before you could process his words, his hands were on you again—fast, firm, deliberate. His grip was steady as he lifted you effortlessly, as though you weighed nothing at all. A gasp escaped you, your hands instinctively clutching his shoulders, but the smirk never left his face.

“You wrote about this, didn’t you?” San teased, his voice dripping with amusement as he carried you across the room. “Right there in your little journal. I had no idea you had such... vivid thoughts.”

He dropped you on the bed. San stood at the edge of it, arms crossed, his dark eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and control. You were there, sprawled across the mattress, your chest heaving from the tension that hung heavy between you. The heat of your earlier argument still simmered in the air, but now the power had shifted entirely into his hands—and you both knew it.

“You’ve been quiet ever since,” San murmured, his voice low and mocking as he stepped closer, each movement slow and deliberate. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Not so bold now that I know what’s been running through that pretty little head of yours?”

Your gaze darted away, heat creeping up your neck, but San wasn’t having it. He climbed onto the bed in one smooth motion, his weight sinking the mattress as he caged you beneath him. One hand pressed into the sheets beside your head, while the other traced the curve of your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“Don’t even think about hiding from me now,” he said softly, the mockery in his tone laced with undeniable command. “Not after everything you wrote. Not after you left me to read between the lines of those fantasies you scribbled down so... shamelessly.”

Your breath hitched, and you pressed your thighs together instinctively, which only made his smirk widen.

“I have to admit,” he continued, leaning closer until his lips were brushing the shell of your ear, “I didn’t know you could be *this* filthy. Wanting to be manhandled? Thrown around? Tamed?” His breath was warm against your skin, his tone both teasing and heavy with promise. “Tell me, did you ever imagine I’d actually do it?”

“I-..” You shuddered beneath him, your fingers curling into the sheets as you struggled to form a response. But San was relentless, his hand trailing down to your throat, his grip firm but not restricting as he tilted your head up toward him.

“Don’t play dumb now,” he whispered, his gaze locking with yours. “You knew exactly what you were doing when you left that journal out. When you wrote about how badly you wanted someone to take control. To leave you breathless, shaking… *ruined.*”

You swallowed hard, the air between you thick with tension, and he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you.

“Admit it,” he murmured, his lips brushing your jawline, his hand still firm on your throat. “Admit that you’ve been waiting for me to push you like this. That you wanted me to see *every* word of it.”

“I—” your voice faltered, trembling under the weight of his intensity. “Mh..mhm” you were only able to mumble some word.

His fingers loosened just enough to stroke the column of your neck. “Good girl.”

He leaned back just slightly, enough to drink in the sight of you beneath him, flushed and trembling. His grin was wicked as he reached for your wrists, pinning them above your head with a grip that left no room for resistance.

“Now,” he murmured, lowering himself until his lips hovered mere inches from yours, “let’s see if you’re ready to live up to everything you wrote, sweetheart.”

Your head tilted back against the mattress, and the tension in the room thickened until it was nearly suffocating. The way San hovered above you, all sharp grins and teasing touches, had you trembling with anticipation. But as his words replayed in your mind, something inside you snapped.

“Fuck it,” you muttered, your voice shaky but certain. “You’ve already read it. You know exactly what I want.”

San’s brow arched, his smirk sharpening as he leaned in closer, his nose brushing yours. “Oh? And what’s that, sweetheart?”

You swallowed hard, your pulse hammering in your ears. “You. All of you. No teasing, no holding back.” Your voice softened, almost a whisper now. “Please.”

San let out a low chuckle, his dark gaze flickering with amusement and something darker—something primal. “You’re begging now?” he mused, his tone rich with satisfaction. “Didn’t think I’d get to hear that so soon.”

“I’m serious,” you said, your breath hitching as his thumb brushed your jawline. “No going back now. Just—just fuck me, San.”

His grin widened, and for a moment, he just stared at you, as though savoring the sight of you so vulnerable beneath him. Then, with deliberate ease, he sat back and tugged his shirt over his head in one swift motion, the fabric landing somewhere behind him.

You couldn’t help it; your eyes roamed over his toned chest, the sharp lines of muscle catching the dim light. Your breath caught, and he didn’t miss the way your eyes roamed.

“Like what you see?” he teased, his voice dripping with confidence as he reached for the hem of your shirt. He didn’t wait for an answer, peeling the fabric off your body just as effortlessly. His gaze swept over you, slow and deliberate, and you shivered under the intensity of it.

“Perfect,” he murmured, almost to himself, before his hands moved to your waistband. His fingers made quick work of the button and zipper, sliding your pants down your legs with maddening precision.

But then he stopped.

Stepping back, he straightened to his full height, his hands already moving to unbuckle his own belt. The metallic clink of it sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away as he worked.

He was slow—so agonizingly slow—pulling the leather free and tossing it aside before unbuttoning his pants. The sharp sound of his zipper being undone felt deafening in the charged silence, and the deliberate pace had your heart racing.

“Enjoying the show?” he asked, his voice smug as he slid the denim down his hips, revealing inch after inch of skin.

You didn’t answer, too captivated by the sight of him to form a coherent thought. Your gaze locked onto him, your chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, and you could feel the heat pooling low in your stomach as desire overtook every part of you.

“Thought so,” he murmured, stepping closer, his smirk never fading. “You just can’t get enough, can you?”

You shook your head, your lips parting slightly as you stared up at him with nothing but raw, unfiltered lust. “Not even close.”

His laugh was deep, rumbling, and utterly intoxicating. “Good,” he said simply, lowering himself back onto the bed, his body hovering over yours. “Because I’m just getting started.”

San crawled over you with the precision of a predator closing in on its prey, his movements slow and deliberate, his gaze locked onto yours. His weight pressed into the mattress, pinning you in place as he leaned in, his lips hovering over yours, teasing but not yet giving.

One of his hands wrapped firmly around your neck, the pressure just enough to remind you who was in control. The way his thumb brushed against the side of your throat made your breath hitch, a soft gasp escaping you as your body instinctively arched toward him.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “Already falling apart, and I haven’t even kissed you yet.”

His other hand was down around his cock, his movements slow, lazy, and unhurried as he stroked himself. The subtle motion made your mouth go dry, your gaze flickering downward for a split second before snapping back up to meet his. The heat in his eyes was unbearable, and yet you couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop the way your body responded to the tension crackling between you.

San smirked at your reaction, his thumb pressing slightly harder against your neck as he brought his lips closer, brushing them lightly against yours. It wasn’t a kiss—not really—but the sensation was enough to send a jolt of electricity straight through you.

Then, just as you started to lean up, desperate for more, the hand from his cock moved. Slowly, almost torturously, he trailed it from himself to your thigh. His fingers brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, before he hooked his hand under your leg and spread it out beneath him.

“Perfect,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp as his palm pressed against the inside of your knee, holding you open with deliberate ease. “Just like I imagined.”

You swallowed hard, your breath catching as he leaned in closer, his lips finally crashing against yours. The kiss was searing, hungry, and consuming, his hand still firm on your throat as he claimed you completely. Your mind was spinning, your body surrendering to the heat of him, to the way he dominated every inch of your senses.

His grip on your neck tightened slightly, grounding you as his thumb brushed along the curve of your jaw. The other hand remained on your leg, his thumb stroking lazy circles on your skin as he shifted his weight, pressing himself closer.

“You’re mine now,” he muttered against your lips, his voice rough and commanding. “No running, no hiding. I’m going to make sure you don’t forget it.”

Your only response was a soft whimper, your hands reaching for him, desperate to pull him closer. And San, ever the tease, chuckled low in his throat, his lips moving to your jaw as he whispered, “Good girl.”

As San’s lips devoured yours, leaving you breathless and pliant beneath him, a quiet confession slipped out before you could stop it.

“I’ve never done this before,” you whispered, your voice trembling and almost lost in the heat of the moment.

San stilled for just a second, his head tilting slightly as he looked down at you, processing your words. The smirk that crept onto his lips was slow and deliberate, a mix of surprise and amusement lighting up his dark eyes.

“You’re a virgin?” he asked, his tone low, curious, and laced with disbelief. “After everything you wrote in that journal?”

Your cheeks burned, and you couldn’t meet his gaze, but you nodded, swallowing hard. “I... I just—”

He didn’t let you finish. His grip on your neck remained firm as his free hand slid up your thigh again, spreading you out even further beneath him. “So what?” he murmured, leaning in close, his breath warm against your ear. “You think that changes anything?”

Your heart pounded as his lips brushed against the shell of your ear, his voice taking on a deeper, more commanding edge. “You want this, don’t you?”

You nodded quickly, unable to form words, and his smirk deepened.

“Good,” he said softly, almost mockingly. “Then I’ll make sure your first time is something you’ll *never* forget.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. His lips crashed against yours again, hungry and consuming, stealing the breath from your lungs. His kisses grew rougher, more possessive, as though he was claiming you in every sense of the word.

When he finally pulled away, your chest was heaving, your lips swollen, and he wasted no time. His mouth trailed down the curve of your jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses that turned into light nips. His tongue soothed each bite, sending shivers down your spine as he moved lower, down the column of your throat.

“You’re mine now,” he murmured against your skin, his voice dark and dripping with authority. “You understand that, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both nervousness and desire.

His kisses continued, his teeth grazing over the soft curve of your collarbone before he bit down gently, just enough to make you gasp. The sharpness of it sent a jolt through your body, and you arched into him, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

“Such a good girl,” he muttered, the praise making your stomach flip as he moved lower. His lips and teeth marked a path down your body, every kiss, every bite leaving a faint bloom of heat behind. He was methodical, deliberate, as though he wanted to cover every inch of your skin.

When he reached your hips, his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them further apart as he settled himself between them. His lips ghosted over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, his breath warm and teasing.

“Right here,” he murmured, his voice dark with promise as his fingers gripped your leg firmly, keeping you pinned in place. “This is where you’re going to feel me the most. Where I’m going to leave my mark.”

You gasped softly, and before you could respond, his teeth sank into the tender skin of your inner thigh, hard enough to sting but not enough to hurt. The sensation was intoxicating, his tongue soothing the bite immediately after, and the combination left you trembling beneath him.

San pulled back slightly, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk as he looked up at you. “You’re already shaking,” he teased, his hands gripping your hips to hold you steady. “You’re going to fall apart for me, sweetheart. And you’re going to love every second of it.”

Your hands instinctively found their way to his hair, your fingers tangling in the soft strands as he hovered over your inner thighs, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin. The way he teased you—his lips brushing so close but never where you wanted them—had your body trembling with anticipation.

San chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as he tilted his head up to look at you. His smirk was infuriatingly smug, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Impatient, huh?” he drawled, his voice low and teasing as he gave your thigh a gentle squeeze. “Can’t wait to have me, can you?”

You whimpered softly, your grip on his hair tightening just enough to pull a satisfied laugh from him.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he murmured, his tone darkening as he settled himself between your legs. “I won’t make you wait any longer. Let’s see how loud I can make you.”

And with that, he dove in.

His lips pressed against your clit, hot and unrelenting, and a sharp gasp escaped your lips as your back arched off the mattress. The first touch of his tongue was slow and deliberate, a languid stroke that left you breathless.

San wasted no time after that, his mouth working against it with a precision that had your head spinning. His hands gripped your thighs, keeping you pinned in place as he devoured you, his tongue flicking and swirling in ways that sent shivers racing down your spine.

“You taste so good,” he murmured against you, his voice muffled but still thick with satisfaction. “Even better than I imagined.”

You couldn’t respond—not with the way he was overwhelming your senses, reducing you to gasps and whimpers as he found every sensitive spot. Your hands tightened in his hair, and he groaned at the pressure, the vibrations only adding to the fire building inside you.

San pulled back just enough to press a kiss against your inner thigh, his lips swollen and glistening. “Don’t hold back,” he murmured, his voice rough and commanding. “I want to hear everything. Every moan, every gasp—let me hear how much you need me.”

And then he was back, his mouth and tongue relentless as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, his grip on your thighs tightening as your body started to tremble beneath him. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but surrender completely to the way he consumed you, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

Your body trembled beneath him, the overwhelming waves of pleasure crashing through you as you cried out his name, your hands still tangled in his hair. San didn’t stop until your body went slack against the mattress, leaving you breathless, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

But he wasn’t done—not even close.

“Look at you,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to survey the sight of you sprawled beneath him, still shaking from the aftermath. His voice was low, rough, and dripping with satisfaction. “So pretty when you fall apart for me.”

Before you could respond, San moved with the kind of precision that left no room for resistance. His hands gripped your hips firmly, flipping you over onto your stomach in one fluid motion. A startled gasp escaped you, but it was quickly muffled as he pressed your face into the mattress, one hand splayed across the back of your neck, holding you in place.

“Don’t think we’re done yet,” he growled, his voice dark and commanding as he leaned over you. The heat of his bare chest against your back sent shivers down your spine, and you felt him press his hips into you, letting you feel just how ready he was.

Your heart raced as his free hand slid down your side, gripping your waist possessively. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “I hope you’re ready, sweetheart, because I’m not holding back… at all.”

His teeth grazed your earlobe, and you whimpered softly, your body arching instinctively beneath him. His voice dropped lower, the words sending a thrill through you as he murmured, “You’re mine now. Every inch of you. And I’m going to make sure you *feel* it.”

The blunt heat of him pressed against your cunt, and before you could even brace yourself, he pushed into you in one smooth, unrelenting motion. The stretch burned, but the pleasure quickly overwhelmed it, and you cried out, muffled against the mattress as he filled you completely.

San groaned low in his throat, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulled back slightly, only to slam back in with a force that made your entire body jolt. “Perfect,” he muttered, his voice rough and thick with lust as he set a relentless pace. “You feel even better than I imagined.”

The sound of skin against skin filled the room, each thrust drawing gasps and moans from you that only seemed to spur him on. He leaned over you, pressing his chest to your back as he buried himself deeper, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Take it,” he growled, his voice dripping with authority. “Every. Fucking. Inch.”

Your head spun, your senses overwhelmed by the rough, unyielding way he moved against you. His hand slid from your hip to your throat, pulling you up slightly so he could press his lips to your shoulder, his teeth sinking into your skin to leave yet another mark.

“You’re mine,” he muttered again, his voice ragged as his thrusts grew even harder, each one sending shockwaves through your body. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“I-I'm yours..! ,” you gasped, your voice trembling as you clung to the sheets, completely lost in him.

“Good girl.. or should I say..” he murmured, his grip tightening as he drove you both closer and closer to the edge, his pace never faltering, never giving you a moment to catch your breath, “good slut?”.

His words made your cunt tighten around him, a grunt escaping his throat.

San’s pace didn’t let up for a moment, his grip firm on your waist as he powerfully ounded into you, every thrust driving you closer to another earth-shattering release. Your body trembled beneath him, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all, and he could feel the way you tightened around him, your breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“That’s it,” he growled against your ear, his voice rough and commanding as he reached one hand between your legs, his fingers finding the spot that made you jolt… your swollen clit. “Give me one more, sweetheart. Come for me again. Let me feel you.”

The combination of his relentless thrusts and the way his fingers worked you had you teetering on the edge in seconds. Your cries grew louder, the tension coiling in your stomach until it finally snapped, a powerful wave of pleasure crashing through you as you screamed his name.

“San!” you sobbed, your body shaking violently as your orgasm ripped through you, leaving you breathless and trembling beneath him.

He groaned low in his throat, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own. “That’s my girl,” he muttered, his grip tightening as he buried himself deep inside you, his hips stuttering as he reached his peak.

A guttural moan escaped his lips as he spilled into you, the warmth of his cum filling you completely. He didn’t pull out right away, instead leaning over you, his chest pressing against your back as he kissed your shoulder, his breath hot and uneven.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your damp skin. “You took me so well, sweetheart. Screaming my name like that... you’re so fucking perfect.”

You whimpered softly, still trembling from the aftershocks, and he smirked, his voice dropping to a darker, dirtier tone. “Bet you loved having me ruin you like this. Didn’t you, baby? All that talk about wanting to be manhandled—looks like you got exactly what you wanted.”

Before you could respond, his hand slid to your neck, gripping you firmly as he pulled you upright, your back pressing against his chest. The move made you gasp, your head falling back against his shoulder as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze, his cock still deep inside you.

“That’s what you get for leaving your little journal unattended,” he growled, his smirk sharp and satisfied as he stared into your eyes. “I bet you loved every fucking second of it. Didn’t you?”

Your lips trembled, but you managed a breathless, “Y-yes… y-es I did..”

San’s grin widened, and he leaned in to press a lingering kiss to your temple, his grip on your neck softening as his free hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice softer now but still carrying that edge of dominance.

He held you there for a moment, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re mine,” he whispered, his tone gentler now, though no less possessive. “Every inch of you.”

Your hands came up to rest over his, your body leaning into his embrace as you whispered, “Always yours.”

San let out a satisfied hum, holding you close as the heat of the moment began to fade, replaced by a warmth that felt just as overwhelming. “That’s my girl,” he said softly, his lips pressing against your hair as he held you, his arms never loosening.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

[lsunstreakerl]

I was re-reading Dad- I mean, GP- (love all your fics btw) and noticed a line about Max calling Christian Dad when he was high on painkillers after Silverstone. How did Christian react and do you think that Max even remembers it? Keep up the amazing writing!

okay, in my defense I think I mentioned somewhere that it wasn't soft or fluffy at all and I stand by that. here you go! (no, max doesn't remember it. christian will never tell him.)

Search History APOV, christian, set in the hospital room after Silverstone. 1.3k words <3

"Okay, out, out- clear the room, please."

Christian feels more like an usher than a team principal as he directs people out of the hospital room. Max deserves better than being treated like some kind of zoo animal.

Christian knows he's not supposed to get attached to his drivers, but-

He can't help it. They crawl into his heart, carving out their own little space.

Redbull's children. His children.

Seb, Daniel, Max.

Strong, proud, defiant Max. He looks tiny where he's unconscious in the hospital bed, and Christian's heart twists. He hasn't felt fear like that in long time, sitting on the pitwall, waiting for Max to come over the radio. It was the longest few seconds of his life, but what's haunting him-

Gianpiero, normally so collected and calm, a man Christian has never once seen agitated- his hand had gripped Christian's wrist so hard there are purpling bruises in the shape of his fingers. He's back with the team right now, but Christian knows he'll be on his way soon. If Max has carved a space into Christian's heart, he's taken up complete residence in GP's.

There's footsteps at the doorway, and Christian turns his head, meeting hard blue eyes with his own.

"Kind of you to finally show up, Jos."

Jos is frowning, the way he always is, but there's no fear in his eyes- he's not even looking at Max in the hospital bed. Christian has barely been able to take his eyes off of him.

"He should not have left without me."

Christian feels a muscle in his jaw twitch.

"He's a legal adult. We weren't exactly thinking about it when they airlifted him."

He can hear the strain in his voice, but he can't help it with Jos. It creeps out of him, makes it hard to think straight.

Jos sneers, finally looking at the bed. There's no sorrow on his face- just a complicated cocktail of emotions. He looks more disappointed than anything.

"He is fine, yes?"

Christian takes a deep breath, forces himself to stay civil.

"The medical team wants to take a deeper look at his brain, see if there's any damage hiding they might've missed. That kind of thing can get worse over time- we'd rather get ahead of it now."

Jos raises an eyebrow, and Christian continues.

"But otherwise, they just have him under observation at the moment. He's got a nasty concussion."

Jos hums, and the sound is so startlingly Max that Christian feels his gut churn.

"Skip the additional tests. They just want money. He has had concussions before, he knows how to handle them. I want him out sooner, not later."

Christian opens his mouth to protest, but Jos doesn't budge.

"I am his father, and his medical proxy."

Christian bites his tongue.

"I'll let the nurse know."

Jos looks back down at Max, and for a split second there's a flash of something across his face.

Christian isn't sure if it's guilt or rage.

"He will be fine."

It almost sounds like Jos is trying to convince himself. He turns back to Christian, and now he looks pissed off.

"I am going to handle media. The Dutch media, where they will not twist the situation. To behave that way, when a competitor is here- it is disrespectful. I will not stand for it."

A competitor. Jos disgusts him.

Max is supposed to be his son.

Jos leaves, and part of Christian feels a bit like he's just set a rabid dog loose on the press, frothing at the mouth. It's not out of a genuine care for Max though- it's about the way Lewis is behaving. Jos won't stand for it.

Normally Christian wouldn't either, but.

He's needed more here.

He settles in one of the armchairs with his laptop up. He has messages from GP, keeping him updated on the team meeting, and a personal message from John telling him the garage is chomping at the bit, furious and protective.

He's neck deep in emails when Max stirs a bit, eyes blinking open slowly. One pupil is larger than the other, and he seems like he's looking through Christian, rather than at him.

"Max?"

Max takes a shaky breath, and Christian is alarmed to see the way his eyes start watering.

"Papa-"

Oh shit.

Christian does not get paid enough for this. Really, he doesn't get paid enough for most of his Max related responsibilities, but especially not this.

He reaches an arm for Max's hand, intending to reassure him, but Max jerks away from him, eyes widening.

"No- no, I'm sorry, I did not-"

Max takes another breath as Christian backs up, bile in his throat.

"Max, hey it's okay-"

"I will- it will be better, next time, I won't- I won't slide, I'll make the turn, I'm sorry-"

Christian feels helpless at the way Max is pressed back into the bed away from him, eyes hazy with medication, blown from the concussion.

Redbull's children. His children.

He takes a breath and steps forward, pushes past the way his heart squeezes as Max tries to get away from him.

One of his hands lands gently on Max's shoulder, running up his back to settle in his hair. Christian leans down to wrap Max in a hug, gentle even as he's shaking in his arms.

"I'm- papa, I'm sorry."

Max says it desperate and panicked, like he knows the words won't do him any good.

Christian shushes him like he does his own children, even as his own heart twists. He's not supposed to get attached to his drivers.

Redbull's children. His children.

"It's okay, Max. You did a good job, and I'm glad you're okay."

Max chokes on a half sob.

"No, no I missed, I fucked it up-"

"Max, I don't care about that. I care that you're okay. That's what matters right now."

Christian lets Max cry it out, palm running up and down his spine as Max settles, finally nodding off against his shoulder.

Max is asleep, but-

Christian stays, holding him in his arms. Their golden boy. The garage is ready to go on a warpath, every single one of them. Max is fiercely loyal, but Christian is fairly confident he doesn't realize how devoted their loyalty is in return. He's theirs. To be crashed out, deep into the heart of Silverstone, to see the celebrations from Mercedes afterwards-

There's a vile, rabid taste in all of their mouths. They'll come back stronger, hit harder. They won't let him get away with it.

There's shuffling by the doorway, and Christian looks over as GP steps in. He looks haggard, still in his Redbull polo, jacket thrown hastily over his shoulders. He's pretty sure it's not even Gianpiero's jacket- normally he sees it across the back of Helmut's chair.

"How is he?"

GP settles on the other side of the bed, flipping through the paperwork from the table with one hand while the other rests over Max's.

Christian sighs.

"Concussed. They don't think there's any additional damage, but they wanted to do some extra testing to make sure. Jos said no."

"Cunt."

Christian raises an eyebrow. GP is normally much better about keeping his feelings internalized.

"Mhm."

"Sorry, Christian. I just-"

"I know."

Gianpiero helps Christian settle Max back against the bed.

"I'll stay with him if you need to leave."

Christian looks over at him, assessing.

"Do I need to leave?"

GP winces.

"I think the team needs some guidance. John is with them, but a more... direct reminder should probably be given. Maybe a reminder that sabotage and unsportsmanlike conduct won't do Max any good."

Christian snorts. He feels more like a babysitter than anything, but he understands where GP is coming from.

"I hear you. Message me if anything changes with him, okay? And- he was a little bit confused earlier."

GP nods, thumb brushing over the back of Max's hand.

"I will. Thank you for being here."

Christian gives him a thin smile.

Redbull's children. His children.

"All part of the job, isn't it?"

[saraaisfree]

Hi, I seen your thinking of writing 🙂 and I wanted to send in a suggestion. A friend's to lovers troupe could be cute and he doesn't admit his feelings for the reader bc they are in a relationship but when the reader goes through a breakup, he comes over and comforts them and they end up talking where he confesses his feelings. Just an idea, feel free to write whatever! Can't wait to read it 🤍❤️💙

𝖸𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝖨’𝗅𝗅 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 || Kwon Ji-Yong/G-Dragon

Summary: After a bad break-up your bestfriend comes over to help you feel better. While emotions are high confessions are made.

(thank you for this suggestion i hope you will enjoy this)

G-Dragon, or as you've always known him, Kwon Ji-Yong, has been your best friend for as long as you can remember. From sharing lunches in kindergarten to late nights helping him write lyrics for his songs, the two of you have been inseparable. Even after his group hit it big, he never left you behind, always trying his best to be there for you no matter what happened.

It was a simple night alone in your apartment. You were waiting for Ji-Yong to finish his dance rehearsal, as you had a movie night planned together. While preparing something to eat, your phone pinged with a message:

“Hey Y/N, I don’t think this is working between us anymore, and quite frankly, I don’t want it to. Also, I found someone else.”

The text came as a shock. You and your boyfriend had been dating for almost a year, and everything seemed to be going so well. You were even considering moving in together soon.

Slowly, you made your way to the couch and began crying softly. Picking up your phone, you texted Ji-Yong: “I think we should cancel tonight. I’m not feeling very well, and I don’t want you to get sick.” It was obviously a lie—you just wanted to be alone.

“Hey, that’s never been a problem before. Did something happen?”

You read his reply but chose not to respond.

Half an hour later, your doorbell rang. Curious, you went to see who it was. There he stood—your best friend—with two takeout bags in his hands and a sad smile on his face.

“Can I please come in? You’ve never canceled on me just because you’re sick. I’m worried about you.”

You knew you couldn’t say no to him, so you let him in. After setting the bags on the table, he joined you on the couch.

“Tell me what happened, Y/N. Please,” he urged.

You didn’t respond verbally; instead, you showed him the text message. He read it a few times, his face darkening. Without saying a word, he wrapped you in his arms.

“He was a dickhead anyway,” he said, a slight edge of anger in his voice. “He didn’t deserve you at all.”

Ji-Yong had always known he liked you—no, he loved you. But by the time he felt ready to say anything, you had already grown too comfortable with him, and he was terrified of ruining your friendship.

He never liked your boyfriends, no matter how much he tried to seem supportive. The idea of another man hugging you, kissing you, waking up next to you—it tore him apart. He wanted to tell you how he felt, to shout it to the world, but he held himself back, afraid.

“I’m really disappointed, but not surprised,” you said softly. “He always said things like that when he was mad, but this? This seems final. I guess you’re right, Ji.” You leaned into him, cuddling closer.

Hearing you call him “Ji” made his heart race. The way it fell from your lips felt like a drug. He wanted to hear it every single day.

“You know I’m here for you, right? Always.”

“I know. Thank you.”

As you finally settled down and drifted off to sleep, Ji-Yong kissed your forehead and fell asleep beside you.

The next morning, you stirred awake in his arms. He pulled you back instinctively. “No, don’t leave yet,” he mumbled, still half asleep, before realizing what he’d said. “Oh, um, I’m sorry about that.”

You smiled. The two of you had cuddled a lot as kids, but as teenagers, it became a rare occurrence. It felt nice to be in his arms again.

“Y/N,” he began hesitantly, “I need to tell you something, and it’s really important. I… I really like you. I always have. If the feeling isn’t mutual, we can pretend I never said anything, but I can’t sit around watching you get hurt by guys who don’t deserve you. It kills me to see you like this. I just… I want a chance to treat you right, to show you that love doesn’t have to be this hard—”

You interrupted him by pressing your lips to his, then resting your forehead against his. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to say that” you whispered.

Without hesitation, he pulled you into a passionate kiss, his tongue exploring yours with a hunger he’d suppressed for years.

“I love you so much, L/N Y/N. I always have.”

“I love you too, Kwon Ji-Yong,” you replied.

———————————————————————-

Yooo! First ever fic!! I hope you all like it!!

[seitmai]

Oh god so many thoughts

You sat up and laughed miserably. Your husband was lying to you. And you thought you knew what he was lying about. Tears filled your eyes as your hand rested on your belly where your younger daughter was moving around. Why was Bradley doing this to the three of you? 

🥺🥺🥺

You grabbed the second notebook, this one bright pink, and pulled it from the drawer. Only the first few pages were covered in his writing, but you soaked the words up greedily. To my second daughter, you are the third love of my life. I realize that sounds a little unfair, like you're coming in third place, but I promise that's not that case. It's only because I met your mom and your sister first. You're not even here yet, but I already know I love you just as much as I love them. And I can't wait to meet you, too.

Ahh and her not knowing and reading this is like a knife to the chest probably...

Before I get carried away, let me introduce myself. I'm your dad. It's my job to love you and take care of you. I'm not perfect, but I love you so much, I'll always try my best to be here for anything you need. To be honest, I never expected to have a family at all. And to be extra honest, you were a bit of a surprise. But a very good surprise. My favorite kind of surprise. I can't wait to teach you everything I know, which isn't much, but I do know how to love my three girls. 

You weren't sure if you'd be able to kick him out. You didn't know if you could leave him. If push came to shove, you didn't know if you could be that strong. You wished he wasn't making you consider it at all. 

💔💔💔

He never tried to hide the fact that he was married. He fucking flaunted it. You were perfect; why wouldn't he? If someone else thought they had a gorgeous wife? Ha, Bradley could lay it down in spades. Someone else claimed their wife was smart? Well, his was a goddamn genius. Someone wanted to brag about their kids? All he had to do was pull up a photo of Rose, and he had everyone around him swooning.

Oh how he loves to be a husband and dad🥺

He found it easier to make small talk about his family than anything else these days,

🥺🥺🥺

But would that have been fair? To leave her behind when she was the best? When she was clearly one of the pilots who should be moving forward with new programs? It wasn't like she ever touched him. Other than persistently inviting him for drinks and showing up for all of his office hours, she never made an advance. But now he was uncomfortable. There was something about the way she always looked at him that.....yeah, Nat was right.

Of course she was

Bradley's fingers curled around the edge of his desk as he looked down at his phone sitting there. "Uh...Mav, this is embarrassing." When Maverick took a step closer, he reached across the desk to cuff Bradley on the shoulder. "Just hit me with it."

I would love to know what is going on in Maverick's head in that exact moment

Maverick's expression gave nothing away, but he shifted his weight from one foot to the other before taking a step away from Bradley. "To be clear, Bradley, are you asking me to help you hide an indiscretion from your wife?" Bradley's head tilted slightly. "Huh?" he grunted, thoughts already swirling around his mind so rapidly, it took him a few seconds to catch up. "What the fuck, Mav? No!" he gasped. "An indiscretion?" He could barely even say the word as he shook his head. "No. God, no! Nothing happened! Nothing is ever going to happen!"

I truly hope Maverick has learned (from his own experiences?) that he would not side with Bradley if it was the case, for Carole and Goose the otp 🫰🏻

When Maverick hummed and went silent, Bradley said, "I know how ridiculous it sounds." "It doesn't," his godfather replied immediately.

Mav in his head:

"But she texted you before that. When you never explicitly gave her your number." Maverick looked up at him, shaking his head. "Bradley, what were you thinking? She seems to have some sort of agenda. You should have come to me immediately after the first message." Bradley stood, stomach lurching. His marriage, career, and reputation were somehow all on the line, and he hadn't even done anything. He couldn't help but think of his parents and the fact that his dad probably never put his mom through this kind of shit when she was seven months postpartum.

I think it finally catches up to Bradley... And yes his dad probably didn't put his mom through that but nobody compares to Carole and Goose🫶🏻

"You work in a high stakes field where women routinely outperform men. They are capable of anything you are."

As they should lmao

"I know that!" Bradley snapped. "But I'm married! I'm not looking for that shit. I never let on that I was." "Oh, you sweet summer child," Maverick sighed, checking his watch. "Literally," he added as he dug his own phone from his pocket. "If Lieutenant Jeffries is sending you photos and playing coy, she doesn't care about your wife."

Good god finally someone really laying it down so Bradley gets it too

You were crying. You didn't want Bradley to see you cry right now, but you couldn't stop. "This doesn't look like nothing. And you didn't tell her to stop." Now he looked panicked, eyes wide as he saw the photo on his phone in your hand. "Okay, I know this looks bad, but I reported it, I swear! I've never been alone with her behind closed doors. You can call Mav!"

This is not looking good...

Violent sobs shook your body, and when Bradley slowly let his hand settle on your arm, you shook him free. "You expect me to believe nothing is going on? When you get home late every day? When she told me that it's no wonder you prefer her since I let myself go?" you gasped, swiping at your tears. "What?" Bradley barked as you blindly handed his offending phone back to him. "She said that to you?"

If one thing can set Bradley's head straight, is Indigo going directly against his wife, I feel like this is a big line that has been crossed

You nodded miserably, taking a step away from him. "I don't want to know if you said that to her, or if she formed her own opinion after spending time with you. And I don't want to know if you're fucking her or just considering it. But I want you out of the house." Bradley looked like you just slapped him. His mouth was hanging open, brow creased while you sobbed. "You want me out?" he whispered, hand going up to rake his fingers through his hair. "Yes," you squeaked, trying to stay strong not just for yourself, but for your daughters as well. Every word hurt as you forced them out of your mouth, but you had to say them. "Go. Until I can talk to my parents about canceling the sale of their house. I'll transfer to Annapolis. Take the girls with me."

no words... just tears 😭😭😭

Bradley closed the distance to you, tears already pooling in his eyes as he dropped to his knees. His lips found your belly, and you sobbed harder as he wrapped his hands around your hips. "No. You can't," he said so softly, you could barely hear him. When he looked up at your face, you almost believed he would never be capable of hurting you. "Baby Girl, you can't leave me. I need you. I need my girls." When you stepped out of his grasp, his arms fell limply to his sides. You'd never seen him look so miserable before, and you had to stand firm instead of reaching for his hands.

💔💔💔

The implications of your own words stung your heart, and you had to watch him slowly get to his feet. He kissed your forehead, and your eyes blurred with fresh tears when he went down the hallway to Rose's room. Less than a minute passed, but each second felt like a day. You had plenty of time to tell him the truth. That you didn't want him to leave. That you couldn't blame him for wanting someone else, and you still needed him as much as he said he needed you. When he reappeared, you pressed your lips together even as he kissed your damp cheek. "I love you," he rasped. "I'm never going to stop loving you. I'll figure out some way to make you believe me."

Aim for the Sky Part 34 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Maverick makes time to have a conversation with Bradley, but you've already lost faith in him. Your words hurt him more than anything else could. 

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, pregnancy, jealousy

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

When the mattress dipped and you felt the bedding shift around your legs, you opened your eyes to find Bradley climbing out of bed. The room was still dark, but his face was illuminated by his phone screen. The baby was thumping against your tender insides, making you wince, and your husband was playing around on his phone in the middle of the night. Or texting someone.

"What are you doing?" you croaked. Bradley's gaze snapped toward your face, and he leaned down to pull the covers to your shoulder.

"Uh, I need to head to base a little early," he whispered, tracing your cheek with his thumb. "To meet with Mav."

"What time is it?" you asked, rolling toward him to see his phone.

"Almost six," he replied, kissing your forehead as he tipped his screen away. "I love you. Try to get some more sleep."

You swallowed hard, rolling away from him as he started pulling his uniform from the closet. The rustle of fabric set your nerves on edge, and you squeezed your eyes shut as he got dressed. Maybe he thought you fell asleep again, because he didn't say another word before he left the room. But you were pretty sure you heard him stop in Rose's nursery before leaving the house.

Now you were wide awake and alone. Your phone told you it was 5:28 which was completely absurd. Neither you nor Bradley ever got to base before 8:00 unless you were working your ass off on a project.

He used Maverick as his excuse which seemed ridiculous. Bradley wasn't in the middle of training for a special mission which would require extra hours before daylight. And he had to know Maverick would only cover for him for so long.

You sat up and laughed miserably. Your husband was lying to you. And you thought you knew what he was lying about. Tears filled your eyes as your hand rested on your belly where your younger daughter was moving around. Why was Bradley doing this to the three of you? 

It wasn't like you couldn't tell how bad you looked at the moment. You knew it. You were bloated and chunky and broken out, but it was at least half his fault you were pregnant again in the first place. And you would make it a priority to get in shape after she was born. You would.

Your fingers were curled around the sheets, trying to keep yourself on your side of the bed, but you crawled toward Bradley's nightstand anyway. The lamp was too bright, taking your eyes a beat to adjust. You yanked the drawer open which offered almost no insight to anything except his Nugget Notebook with the pink and blue striped cover. But then you saw something underneath it.

You grabbed the second notebook, this one bright pink, and pulled it from the drawer. Only the first few pages were covered in his writing, but you soaked the words up greedily.

To my second daughter, you are the third love of my life. I realize that sounds a little unfair, like you're coming in third place, but I promise that's not that case. It's only because I met your mom and your sister first. You're not even here yet, but I already know I love you just as much as I love them. And I can't wait to meet you, too.

Before I get carried away, let me introduce myself. I'm your dad. It's my job to love you and take care of you. I'm not perfect, but I love you so much, I'll always try my best to be here for anything you need. To be honest, I never expected to have a family at all. And to be extra honest, you were a bit of a surprise. But a very good surprise. My favorite kind of surprise. I can't wait to teach you everything I know, which isn't much, but I do know how to love my three girls. 

"How?" you gasped, dropping the notebook back into the drawer. You sobbed into Bradley's pillow, unable to make sense of this. How was the man who wrote notebook passages to his children the same man who was sneaking around behind your back. With Indigo. It simply did not make sense, but both versions of him seemed to exist at the same time. And somehow you were the one who was more at odds with yourself than he was with himself.

You could feel the love he had for his daughters. It was so obvious. He was so good with Rose, and he seemed excited about having two kids.

You weren't sure if you'd be able to kick him out. You didn't know if you could leave him. If push came to shove, you didn't know if you could be that strong. You wished he wasn't making you consider it at all. 

--------------------------

"Oh, God."

Bradley was awake as soon as Maverick replied to his text at five in the morning. He'd barely been able to sleep anyway, but when Maverick told Bradley he was heading to Lemoore in a few hours for a meeting, he begged his godfather to meet with him first.

Now Bradley was sitting in his office in a silent building waiting for any help he could get. As far as he had worked out, Indigo had been devouring his extra attention for weeks for a less savory reason than he originally thought. All the times she invited him out for a drink left him shaking his head while he stared at the wedding photo perched in his desk. 

He never tried to hide the fact that he was married. He fucking flaunted it. You were perfect; why wouldn't he? If someone else thought they had a gorgeous wife? Ha, Bradley could lay it down in spades. Someone else claimed their wife was smart? Well, his was a goddamn genius. Someone wanted to brag about their kids? All he had to do was pull up a photo of Rose, and he had everyone around him swooning.

He found it easier to make small talk about his family than anything else these days, and he was sure Indigo knew he was married before he even left Texas to fly back to San Diego. It still seemed unlikely she wanted to sleep with him, but he wasn't going to deny that Nat was usually right about these things.

"Oh, God," Bradley groaned for probably the tenth time since he woke up. He wanted to rewind and go back to Texas and never select Indigo in the first place. 

But would that have been fair? To leave her behind when she was the best? When she was clearly one of the pilots who should be moving forward with new programs? It wasn't like she ever touched him. Other than persistently inviting him for drinks and showing up for all of his office hours, she never made an advance. But now he was uncomfortable. There was something about the way she always looked at him that.....yeah, Nat was right.

But if Bradley couldn't handle his first assignment in his new position, how was he supposed to prove he could do this going forward?

There was a knock on his already open door, and Maverick stood there looking perplexed. "Bradley? What did you need that couldn't wait until later this week?"

Bradley groaned again as he stood. "Can you shut the door?"

"Sure."

Maverick let it slip from his fingers, and Bradley waited until the echo of the door closing gave way to silence. He could feel his godfather's gaze on his face as his eyes closed. He swallowed hard, not wanting to waste the other man's time, but now that he was here, he felt so stupid. 

"I need your help," Bradley rasped, voice hoarse as his eyes opened. "It's work related."

"Okay," Maverick replied, voice between a statement and a question. "What can I do?"

Bradley's fingers curled around the edge of his desk as he looked down at his phone sitting there. "Uh...Mav, this is embarrassing."

When Maverick took a step closer, he reached across the desk to cuff Bradley on the shoulder. "Just hit me with it."

Bradley took a long breath and let it out slowly. "There's another officer who... well, it's been brought to my attention that she..." He let go of his desk and rubbed his fingertips against his eyes. "There's a chance my wife thinks something's going on between me and another officer on base. One who reports to me."

Maverick's expression gave nothing away, but he shifted his weight from one foot to the other before taking a step away from Bradley. "To be clear, Bradley, are you asking me to help you hide an indiscretion from your wife?"

Bradley's head tilted slightly. "Huh?" he grunted, thoughts already swirling around his mind so rapidly, it took him a few seconds to catch up. "What the fuck, Mav? No!" he gasped. "An indiscretion?" He could barely even say the word as he shook his head. "No. God, no! Nothing happened! Nothing is ever going to happen!"

He realized he was shouting when Maverick's hands flew into the air in surrender. "Okay. Alright. I hear you loud and clear. I just needed to be sure I understand what we're dealing with here. Why don't you have a seat and explain everything to me?"

Bradley was raking his fingers through his hair as he dropped down into his chair. "It's Lieutenant Jeffries. Indigo." Her intense blue eyes filled his mind as he shook his head. "Phoenix and Hangman pointed out that she..." He paused and glanced at the ceiling. "This is so embarrassing, Mav, but they said it seems like she wants to sleep with me."

"Hmm."

When Maverick hummed and went silent, Bradley said, "I know how ridiculous it sounds."

"It doesn't," his godfather replied immediately. "This sort of thing happens sometimes. You said nothing happened? You should keep your distance moving forward, and if she contacts you outside of work or does anything inappropriate, we can write it up."

Bradley groaned miserably, unlocked his phone, and pushed it across the desk with his messages open. "She did text me outside of work."

While Maverick reached for the phone, he said, "Did you give her your number?"

"No. Why would I do that?" he replied. "But honestly, it's not hard to get access to that kind of information. I didn't think much of it the first time."

Maverick shrugged. "Well, what did she text-" His eyes grew wide when he looked down at the phone, his cheeks turning pink as he was surely looking at the photo that had been in Bradley's messages for less than twelve hours.

"Yeah," Bradley croaked. "She sent that last night."

"But she texted you before that. When you never explicitly gave her your number." Maverick looked up at him, shaking his head. "Bradley, what were you thinking? She seems to have some sort of agenda. You should have come to me immediately after the first message."

Bradley stood, stomach lurching. His marriage, career, and reputation were somehow all on the line, and he hadn't even done anything. He couldn't help but think of his parents and the fact that his dad probably never put his mom through this kind of shit when she was seven months postpartum.

"An agenda?" Bradley whispered. "Shit, Mav. This is the kind of thing that happens on carriers. Not on base. I thought this was something men did way more than women when they wanted to cheat."

Maverick handed his phone back across the desk with the photo of Indigo open. Bradley swiped out of the text thread immediately, sick to his stomach. 

"You work in a high stakes field where women routinely outperform men. They are capable of anything you are."

"I know that!" Bradley snapped. "But I'm married! I'm not looking for that shit. I never let on that I was."

"Oh, you sweet summer child," Maverick sighed, checking his watch. "Literally," he added as he dug his own phone from his pocket. "If Lieutenant Jeffries is sending you photos and playing coy, she doesn't care about your wife."

Bradley winced. "Fuck."

"Yeah," Maverick grunted, taking a few steps toward the door. "And your wife is pregnant and vulnerable, and now I'm going to have to tell Admiral Simpson that I'll be late getting to Lemoore. Follow me. And bring your phone."

-------------------------------------

Bradley was late getting home. This was happening almost every night now, and you were hanging on by a thread as Rose screamed in your arms. She was fed, but she always seemed to prefer the way Bradley burped her over your technique.

"He's not here," you said through gritted teeth. "I don't know where he is or when he'll be back. I just need you to burp so you can go to sleep."

Your texts had gone unanswered. You weren't sure if Bradley had been in the cafeteria at lunchtime, because you hid in your office. Dinnertime had come and gone, and his cold plate of food was currently sitting on the kitchen counter.

"I don't know where he is," you repeated to your daughter while her younger sister did somersaults against your bladder. Rose's sobs finally started to taper off as you rubbed your hand firmly against her back. She finally burped, and that seemed to do the trick. Her fists curled up next to her face as she yawned. You barely had enough time to change her into a clean diaper and pajamas before her eyes were closed.

You were mentally, physically, and emotionally drained. You stood in her nursery, watching her sleep while you decided you needed to say something to your husband tonight. There was no way you could keep punishing yourself for not being enough. If he wanted someone else, you deserved to have him say it to your face.

But when you heard him open the front door thirty minutes later, your heart lurched into your stomach at the sight of him. You'd known how handsome he was since the day you met him, and he only seemed to get better looking with age. Each year added more silver to his hair and laugh lines to his face, but he was undeniably sexy.

Today, however, he looked exhausted, and your brain went wild with awful ideas. What had he gotten up to? Why was he so late? The top buttons of his uniform were undone, and his hair was mussed. He was staring down at his phone in his hand while you stood silently at the end of the hallway, terrified of what he was looking at.

Suddenly everything you'd been holding inside for weeks was bubbling up to the surface, and you were done holding it back. You cleared your throat, and his gaze snapped up to your face, phone hanging in his hand by his side.

"Hey, Sweetheart. Is Rosie already asleep?"

You nodded, taking each step slowly until you were standing right in front of him. When he reached for you, his fingers skimmed your shoulder before you pushed his hand away. Those beautiful, brown eyes you loved so much went wide, but he didn't look surprised. Not at all.

"Why are you so late?" you snapped. "And don't feed me some bullshit about office hours, because I know your schedule. Or, at least, I know what they are supposed to be."

Bradley licked his lips, gesturing between the two of you with his phone. "I had to take care of something important with Maverick."

You wanted to laugh in his face. "You're really going to use the same excuse as this morning? Another meeting with Maverick? What, one was at the crack of dawn and the other was after dinnertime? I've been texting you for hours, Bradley."

You watched his Adam's apple bob. "I didn't have my phone with me for part of the day."

"You have it now!" you laughed sardonically, pointing at his hand just in time to see his phone light up. 

It was her. You saw her name there. Indigo. She was texting your husband well after work hours, and you could already feel the tears stinging your eyes.

You grabbed his phone before he seemed to realize what was happening. Your fingers shook as you entered his passcode to find it was still your birthday. He wasn't even trying to hide this from you. He wasn't trying to take his phone back. As you braced yourself for what you were about to see, you whispered, "What the fuck is going on with her?"

His brown eyes were so sincere, and once again, you couldn't understand how this was the same man who wrote journals for his unborn children. "Nothing," he replied, voice taking on a tone of defeated exhaustion. "There's nothing going on."

Your eyes dipped down to his phone to find not one, but two flirtatious selfies. One new one, and one that was sent last night while he was working out in the garage. Indigo's eyes stared back at you from the screen, mocking you, making a fool of your family.

You were crying. You didn't want Bradley to see you cry right now, but you couldn't stop. "This doesn't look like nothing. And you didn't tell her to stop."

Now he looked panicked, eyes wide as he saw the photo on his phone in your hand. "Okay, I know this looks bad, but I reported it, I swear! I've never been alone with her behind closed doors. You can call Mav!"

Violent sobs shook your body, and when Bradley slowly let his hand settle on your arm, you shook him free. "You expect me to believe nothing is going on? When you get home late every day? When she told me that it's no wonder you prefer her since I let myself go?" you gasped, swiping at your tears.

"What?" Bradley barked as you blindly handed his offending phone back to him. "She said that to you?"

You nodded miserably, taking a step away from him. "I don't want to know if you said that to her, or if she formed her own opinion after spending time with you. And I don't want to know if you're fucking her or just considering it. But I want you out of the house."

Bradley looked like you just slapped him. His mouth was hanging open, brow creased while you sobbed. "You want me out?" he whispered, hand going up to rake his fingers through his hair.

"Yes," you squeaked, trying to stay strong not just for yourself, but for your daughters as well. Every word hurt as you forced them out of your mouth, but you had to say them. "Go. Until I can talk to my parents about canceling the sale of their house. I'll transfer to Annapolis. Take the girls with me."

Bradley closed the distance to you, tears already pooling in his eyes as he dropped to his knees. His lips found your belly, and you sobbed harder as he wrapped his hands around your hips. "No. You can't," he said so softly, you could barely hear him. When he looked up at your face, you almost believed he would never be capable of hurting you. "Baby Girl, you can't leave me. I need you. I need my girls."

When you stepped out of his grasp, his arms fell limply to his sides. You'd never seen him look so miserable before, and you had to stand firm instead of reaching for his hands.

"Find somewhere else to sleep."

The implications of your own words stung your heart, and you had to watch him slowly get to his feet. He kissed your forehead, and your eyes blurred with fresh tears when he went down the hallway to Rose's room. Less than a minute passed, but each second felt like a day. You had plenty of time to tell him the truth. That you didn't want him to leave. That you couldn't blame him for wanting someone else, and you still needed him as much as he said he needed you.

When he reappeared, you pressed your lips together even as he kissed your damp cheek. "I love you," he rasped. "I'm never going to stop loving you. I'll figure out some way to make you believe me."

You watched him retreat to the front door with his keys, shoulders sagging as he gave you one last lingering look before slipping out into the darkness.

------------------------------------

Ouch. Ouch. Okay. I want BG to believe Roo beyond any doubt, and I think I know how to make that happen. Please stay tuned. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[angelluv16]

Lose something good, Win something Great

-------------------------✩-------------------------

✩ : You broke things off with your long-term Boyfriend due to Emotional and verbal abuse. You did what any Singer-songwriter would do, write a song. Thanks to that one song You met the one and only Lando Norris

faceclaim: Maddison beer

pairing . . . lando norris x singer!reader

request . . . no!!

warnings . . . none If their is let me know

-------------------------✩-------------------------

69,654 likes

TMZ: ynuser and joshrichards were seen having a heated argument outside of a restaurant? y/n was seen in tears as Josh Left. Is there trouble in paradise?

View all 7,710 comments

username43: I will beat his ass for hurting my girl

username44: I'm with you

username45: Count me in too

username46: I bet she cheated

username47: go eat rocks No one asked for your unwanted Opinion

username48: Okay But Like Where tf is their Privacy like I know if I were them I wouldn't want to see this the next morning like wtf

username49: rightt ugh poor girl

username50: And what about josh she probably caused this.

username51: I don't give two shits about him he caused my girl to cry he can eat shit

username52: Who is she???

username53: only one of the greatest singers rn and one of the most underrated singer ever

username54: I know I shouldn't but NEW MUSIC NEW MUSIC

username55: Bad timing but I agree

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

ynuser hasn't posted in 5 months

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

ynuser has added to their story

[caption 1: In the Studio!!] [caption 2:🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍 ]

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

ynuser

Liked by lando, addisonrae,gracieabrams and 877,168 others

ynuser: My New Song "Good In goodbye" Is Out on all platforms

View all 11,909 comments

username56: Girl wtf no warning no nothing?!?!?!

username57: We should know by now she did that with her last album

username58: this song omfg.

username59: lando??? What are you doing here

lando: The same as you 😁

lando: such a banger

username60: hahah Not lando shooting his shot

username61: Okay but they would make such a cute couple like

username62: "I would take a bullet for you just to prove my love Only to find out you are the one holding the gun" Has me sobbing my girl was in love

username63: "I'm just tryna get focus Take some time for me People started to notice all the shit you couldn't see" Like?????? Girl we've been noticing.

username64: This song is going to be her Expresso I just know it

username65: Me and my delulu are agreeing with you

username66: Same this world doesn't know what good music is anymore 😪

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

lando has added to their story

(let's pretend it doesn't say madison beer)

[caption 1: On repeat ! @ ynuser]

replies:

ynuser: Awww thank you. Glad you liked it 🥰

lando: wow okay u replied. I don't like it I love it. You did amazing as always

carlossainz55: Mate pls she's not going to notice you

lando well well well

oscarpiastri: Damn it are we going to have to listen to this every day in the garage now?

lando: You know it mate

username67: wait this is so cute he's supporting

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

lando

Liked by ynuser,carlossainz55,maxfewtrell,oscarpiastri and 891,472 others

lando: Only playing ynuser

View all 12,670 comments

ynuser: Thank you for the free promo

lando: I'll give you all the free promo you want

username68: okayyy shotting his shot

username69: are they.... are they flirting ?????

carlossainz55: You finally got her to notice you 🥳🥳

lando: shut up

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

ynuser

{caption 1: the view!} {caption 2: The fit is fitting}

replies:

username70: Wait what?

username71: were are you going??

username72: Pls pls pls be a grand prix

mclaren: See you soon !!

ynuser: Can't wait !!

username73: Gorgeous

username74: I want this fit

username75: Were are you tf???

username76: You look so cutee!!

lando: Looking beautiful 💕

ynuser:💕💕 Thank you lan

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Liked by ynuser, carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, lando and 1,081,828 others

f1: Just arrived: The Great ynuser Just arrived to the Miami Grand prix.

View all 8,325 comments

username77: She looks so good

username78: ew what is she doing there

username79: right can we actually give the chance to a real f1 fan to attend not these influencers who pretend to like it

username80: hate to break your little bubble of hatred but yn has been an f1 fan since a kid her dad was a huge fan and even took her to races when she was a kid but she stopped going when her dad sadly passed. I'm glad she's attending she hasn't been to one since 2018.

ynuser: Mom I made it! And dad He's proud of me for making the f1 page

username81: Oh girl he's the proudest

username82: girlll

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Liked by lando, oliviarodrigo, alexandrasaintmleux and 891,472 others

ynuser: P1 BABY!!! So proud. So Happy I could be there to see you win your first grand prix this year.

View all 12,480 comments

lando: I won because my lucky charm was with me (you)

ynuser: No, You won because you are the best

username83: This is so cute

username84: THEY MET I REPEAT THEY MET

username85: I KNOW LIKE HOW CUTE IS THAT PHOTO HE'S ALL SMILEY!!!!

username85: The photo?? y/n you should be a Photoghrapher

ynuser: hehe I wish. I did do it when I was a kid from middle school to high school (while I was doing singing) so that's why I'm so good.

username86: I love how this post is only Lando.

username87: So Now you've met now date 😁

username88: ugh she better get away from lando he's too good for her

username89: Lando make her drop an album pls.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Liked by lando, alexandrasaintmleux, charlesleclerc and 2,377,677 others

ynuser: Life Support is out now !! This album helped me say the feelings I couldn't say out loud. And Because you guys loved Good In goodbye so much... The music video is out now !! Thank you so mich for all the love this past year.

View all 17,809 comments

lando: 🧡🧡🧡

ynuser: 🖤🖤🖤

username90: the hearts what???

username91: Ahhh It's happening stay calm

username92: Holy shit !!! A whole ass Album

username93: Okay But can we just talk about the Good in Goodbye music video what the actual fuck

username94: Right, My girl can sing, Do Photography, and now Act ugh to be her

username95: The album is sooo good like Selfish omg I want lando to run over J*sh with his car

♥︎ by lando

username96: hahah Lando We see you

username97: he's not even trying to hide his hatred for J*sh

username98: We love ourselves a man who supports their gf or crush whichever is fine.

♥︎ by lando, ynuser

username99: Ugh This album is and forever will be on repeat

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

ynuser

{caption 1: were matching}

replies:

lando: Ohh Are we soft launching now?

ynuser: yesss

username100: Who is this???

username101: Girllll this better be lando or I'm going to ur house and taking his ass out. All love

username102: pls be lando

alexandrasaintmleux: This is so cute

ynuser: he didn't want to match with me at first

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

lando

{caption 1: she thinks she's a better driver🙄}

repiles:

ynuser: Okay in my defense You looked hot so I got distracted

lando: whatever you say baby

username104: Yup that my girl I know

username105: Yall couldn't make it more obvious

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Liked by ynuser, carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 1,081,828 others

lando,ynuser : You lose something "good", You win something greater 🧡🧡

View all 14,994 comments

ynuser: I love you so much🥺🖤🖤

♥︎ by lando

username109: That's soo cute

username110: LANDO WTF HARD LAUNCH

username111: I'm going to act surprised

username112: Now we need A love album or song

ynuser: 🤭🤭

username113: OH SHE'S WRITING A LOVE SONG

username114: Stopppp This is so cute. The pictures, the caption my dude's in love love

♥︎ by lando, ynuser

username115: I want someone like lando.

-------------------------✩-------------------------

a/n: So I might have to do a part two since it doesn't let me post more photos. Let me know what you guys think in the comments. Love you guys.

-------------------------✩-------------------------

©angelluv16// do not copy, rewrite, or translate any of my work on any platforms

[intimidatingpuffinstudios]

Progress Update Jan 2025

Hey, everyone!

First update of the year, yay! And it's a GOOD one! 🤩

Writing has been going marvelously this month! For TSSW, I am pleased to announce that Morkai's route has been FINISHED!

Yes, you heard that right! His route is complete! Next up is finishing Straasa's,  which shouldn't take more than a week and a half or so since his route is pretty much 3/4 done!

So yeah! Once I finish Straasa's, too, I will focus on getting ALL the routes published to the public demo.

That's probably coming in March or thereabouts, so something to look forward to!

As for BtM, things are BEAUTIFUL on that front, as well! I managed to commission lots of art this month, so we're at the halfway point with the backgrounds,  maybe even a bit further along!

And writing for it has been going amazing! I'm well into the second to last big segment, and the situation is escalating rapidly across the board!

Homicidal entities? Check. Obsessed love interests? Check. One hapless MC along for the ride? DOUBLE CHECK! 🤣🤣

Aaaand I found music that I like for the game! So there's that, too!

Everything is coming together so beautifully, and I just can't wait to show you guys!

Thanks for all the support! And if you want to gain access to the current early access builds for TSSW 3 and BtM, you can find them here and here!

Cheers ✨️

[keyaho]

Okay! So here is what I've thought of!

First, its a fluff and smut type request. Very domesticated scene, getting ready for work together with healthy banter and then the heavy making out starts and heavy - and I mean HEAVY - groping or petting…i don't really know the proper term LOL. After that, Terry gives her a cute little tap and on the ass and he tells his girl, “ go kill em” or something like that. Like leaves her hot and bothered the rest of the day😂

Second, is Terry in a relationship with a girl who's never lost her virginity, cause same, and him being the gentle giant he is, talks about it with her and they get it on. There is no representation for us virgins out here 😂. Idk if you can write that in 3k - 4k words tho I'll literally accept anything lol.

Goodnight!♥️

Let's Do It

.summary: While getting ready for work Michelle gets into a make-out with her boyfriend Terry. .paring: virgin!reader x Terry Richmond

Clingy. 

Terry Richmond was clingy. Especially when he was off work. Michelle was trying to step into her pants when Terry walked up on her; sweat low on his hips, hand tucked under his shirt as he rubbed his stomach. His tongue had darted out to lick his thick lips, distracting Michelle long enough to not realize how close he was until he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. She looked at him in the mirror. Standing by the foyer she was about ten minutes from walking out the side door to her car in their covered garage. 

"Just because you're off doesn't mean you can make me late,' she smiled, turning her head to look at him. 

She had heard him call out ten minutes ago. He was probably one of the best instructors at the dojo he taught jiu jitsu at. It was very rare he took days off considering the price people were paying him to teach their children. 

"You sure?" He says before turning her around. 

His lips found hers and what she thought was a quick kiss so she could be out the door turned into her panting and clinging to him as he backed her against the wall.  His hands were rough; yanking and pulling one her clothes like he wanted to talk them off. She breathed in and he attacked her mouth with his tongue, plunged it across her until she was a whimpering and wet mess. He'd never kissed her this way before. Michelle wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Her nails scratched at the back of his head. 

"You're right,' he said while pulling away. 

Swollen lips parted as he picked up her lunch bag and keys. He passed them to her and led her to the door, his hand rubbing down her back as he kissed the side of her head. 

"You can not just do that,' she replied breathlessly, "just kiss me and send me off." 

Terry chuckled, walking her barefoot to her car. He opened her door and as she was sliding in, his hand graced her ass with a few love taps. 

"Have a good day, baby." He closed the door whale Michelle sat in the drivers seat with her arms folded and a pout on her glossed lips. She rubbed her thighs together and looked up at him as she felt the damp panties rubbing against her sex. His fault. His brow raised and she  quickly started the car, pulling out of the garage as Terry watched, giving her a small wave and smirk.

She arrived at work fifteen minutes later with a text from Terry.

[ big ears ] :: I can't wait 'til you get home so I can tear that cherry out

She was barely back home when Terry hoisted her up over his shoulder and carried her to their bedroom.

"Take out is coming in about two hours,' he says, plopping her down on the bed. "So, I have about an hour and a half for my appetizer."

Michelle whimpered out a soft please. Another orgasm rippled through her arched body as Terry sucked on her swollen clit. His arms were heavy on her thighs as he held her open. At his mercy she could only grab the sheets with one hand and the back of his head with the other. He pulled away and flicked his tongue against the swollen flesh surrounding her clit. Puffy, he hummed against her supple flesh while finding fun in pinching and rolling her nipples between his fingers. 

He had given her a ten minute massage before his mouth was sucking bruises into her back and shoulders, marking her in places only he got to see. Terry played her body like an instrument, strumming her clit like strings on a guitar, using his fingers like a pick against her nipples until her mouth let out the most melodic of moans. His own symphony he got to conduct. His wet lips smacked against pliable flesh as Michelle pressed against his head for relief. 

“Wait,’ she said, ‘oh……fuck, Terry.”

He pulled her clit into his mouth again and sucked. The pressure was building and she began to rock her hips back and forth on his mouth. 

“That’s it pretty girl,” he hummed. “You’re made a big mess.” 

She watched him thumb her clit. Her body jolted as her back arched upwards. Tears spring from her eyes as her fourth orgasm stole the wind from her body. She was a warm, wet, heap of whimpers and pleading about how good it felt. Overstimulated, she tapped on his shoulder when he began to lick around her swollen fruit again. 

He kissed up her body. Proud of making her feel so good he kissed her lips and sucked them slowly. His tongue pushed past hers and made itself home in her mouth. His kiss was nasty, sloppy, and wet as he played with her mouth the same way he played with her pussy. Michelle reached between them and tugged the band of his sweats down. She needed to keep her hands busy and what better way than touching him? Her hand crept along his pelvis and she swallowed some of his moans as they kissed. Michelle felt his body twitching beneath her finger tips, the slight shudder in his breath as he looked down at her, and the way his hands trembled as he held himself up above her. He wanted to stop her, take things slow. He had driven her insane with his mouth and he wasn’t so sure he could control himself if things went further. 

Terry spared her a glance through his own foggy thoughts and hooded eyes. Her naked body was trapped under his and had been at his mercy for the past hour. Pliant, needy, she was tugging at a part of him that wanted to wreck her. 

“Tell me you want to stop.” Terry said as her hands slipped into his sweats. 

Michelle was still riding cloud nine and only the sounds came out her mouth as she tried to speak. She looked up at him and pushed her hands lower, fingertips brushing over the base of his dick, thick and leaking precum. Her hand wrapped around the base of his dick. He was rigid and stiff in her hands. 

They both knew this was the point of no return. Instead of replying, Michelle reached over to him and pushed down his sweats, his thick dick springing free and slapping up against his stomach before hanging between them, resting against her stomach. They had planned this night two months ago. And since that moment, Terry had been teaching her new things to do in the bed. He fingered her in front of her floor length mirror, making her watch. Michelle learned to suck his dick and perfected it so quickly he took her shopping as a thank you. His mind was blown as how quickly she learned and wanted to learn.

"I'm so ready for you, Terry,' she hummed, legs falling apart as his eyes dropped to her dripping sex.

“Oh, don’t talk to me like that," he mumbled, dropping one knee to the bed so he could balance better. 

Michelle pushed his sweats down his hips, his dick springing up and slapping his stomach before resting between their bodies. A w e l l endowed man. 

“It’s been two months,’ she noted, “I don’t want to wait anymore.” 

Terry looked down between their bodies as her hand wrapped around his thick length. The tips of her peach tinted acrylic nails faintly dragged across the sensitive skin. His mouth dropped open, tongue damn near out his mouth, as she ran her thumb over his tip, smearing his pre-cum around her fingers and palm. Michelle’s other hand found his balls and squeezed. Between her stroking and squeezing so gently Terry groaned loudly. His hips started to rock into her hand, creating a friction that had been festering for weeks.

Terry leaned down, hovering over her naked body with his own. His lips found hers as the tip of his dick rubbed between her slit. He rolled his hips, side to side, teasing her. He grabbed her hands, pushing them above her head as he slowly sank into her pussy. He watched her face for discomfort only continuing when she relaxed. She was tight, warm, gripping and he grit his teeth to anchor himself. He wanted to ruin her, but tonight was about taking it soft and slow.

"Make love to me, Terry,' she whimpered. "I know you won't hurt me."

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